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#I’m grabbing you as a sign of respect
oobbbear · 5 months
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Please understand that when I say I grab you, I don’t mean grabbing your face or arm thats rude and creepy please don’t do that to anyone
When I say I grab you I’m saying it like I’m grabbing you like a potato. It’s my way of saying hey I appreciate and respect you let’s be friends
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emmyrosee · 6 months
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“Baby, I promise I was kidding.”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rintaro.”
“‘Rintaro?’ Baby, it was a joke! If I knew it would actually make you upset, I wouldn’t have done it.”
Your eyes are watery and pouty when you look at him, and he blinks down at you expectantly. Then you huff, “of course I’m upset! It’s a sign of disrespect.”
Rintaro groans and squats down in front of you, head moving back and forth to keep his eyes locked on yours as you try to move your own gaze, “baby, I swear, I didn’t mean it, I thought it would make you laugh.”
He never thought hitting your Pompurin plush would have you in such shambles. You’ve been ignoring him all ride with a small grimace on your lips, playing with Pompurin’s arms and tiny feet, sometimes answering questions about what’s on the tag. You’re deadset on ignoring him. It’s destroying him.
With a small sigh, he leans up to try and plant a kiss to your lips, despite the fact that the last thing he’d think you’d want is a kiss. It’s something he knows you adore, though, he hopes you see through your anger to see him.
You do pout out slightly to try and chase his lips, and it fills him with relief.
“It was pretend, baby,” he mumbles, trying to convince you. “I’d never mean to hit him, I was pretending to be mad that he’d take you away from me.”
Well. It was only half pretend.
But you don’t need to know that.
You gently twist pompurin’s ears in your fingers, shrugging and shaking your face from his hands slightly. “You hurt my feelings Rin.”
Once again, he grabs your chin, leaning up to press another kiss to your lips. “I know, baby. I thought it’d be funny.”
“Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m so sorry-“
“Not to me,” you grumble. “To him!” You hold up the new pompurin plush, and Rintaro tucks his lips in his mouth to hide the annoyed sigh that wants to slip out.
Annoyed, albeit still endeared.
Green eyes hyper fixate on the doey eyes of pompurin, smacking his lips and nodding in respect. “I’m sorry, Pompurin. I never should’ve hit you. And I hope you’ll consider forgiving me and taking care of them while I’m at practice.”
In his peripheral, he sees you smile, your fingers shifting to move pompurin’s head to nod.
“Thank you for apologizing,” you say as you lower the new plush animal. “I love you.”
He smirks and leans forward one final time to kiss you, and you giggle in the kiss and toss your arms around his neck.
If he could guarantee you’d always be this affectionate after, he’d playfully smack all your stuffed animals.
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cozage · 9 months
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hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !
Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k
Silent Treatment
Sabo
Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.
He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace. 
“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”
“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?” 
He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders. 
Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed. 
“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”
“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”
“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”
Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either. 
He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”
Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning. 
When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning. 
He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.
He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon. 
If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything. 
He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you. 
“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”
Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come. 
“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss. 
“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”
“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil. 
“Well…bitchy.”
Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground. 
“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room. 
“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible. 
He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off. 
“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.
“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”
“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.
He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”
His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”
“If you want me to.”
“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”
“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.
“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”
“You WHAT?!”
Law
You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”
“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him. 
After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”
The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”
“Well, I just thought-”
“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head. 
“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.
He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.  
“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”
“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”
You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him. 
“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.
Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”
“Like how?”
A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”
“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”
Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.
“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.
Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?” 
“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle. 
“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut. 
That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today. 
Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.
Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.
“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.
Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence. 
“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”
“I should go talk to-”
“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in. 
It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.
It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty? 
He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check. 
They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”
“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”
“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse. 
He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping. 
“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”
You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up. 
“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.” 
“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment. 
Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him. 
“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir. 
You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”
Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”
“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”
Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”
“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”
Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.
So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it. 
Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape.  “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear. 
You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on. 
You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen. 
“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”
You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it. 
“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”
Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”
“I promise I won’t.”
You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?” 
“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.
You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”
“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room. 
Ace
Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one. 
Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient. 
“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”
But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them. 
He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar. 
Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man. 
Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test. 
Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.
“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it. 
“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.” 
Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”
“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“
“MARCO!”
“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”
“How?”
“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”
It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory. 
“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”
“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”
Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”
“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”
You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door. 
The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long. 
He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”
Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”
“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”
“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully. 
“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”
Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work. 
Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed. 
He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself. 
He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line. 
“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked. 
“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”
You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”
“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed. 
“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”
You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings. 
He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you. 
“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line. 
Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”
“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”
“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”
“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”
Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him. 
He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees. 
“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish. 
You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away. 
“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. 
You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down. 
“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile. 
“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try. 
“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology. 
“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”
You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds. 
“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”
You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more. 
“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 
“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.
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sturniolosass · 2 months
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Quiet. - Matt Sturniolo
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Summary: You and Matt are bored of the movie you’re watching and a few things go down… including the bed frame being broken
-based on this post i made a few days back..
Warnings: smut, swearing, choking, biting, Dom!Matt, Sub!reader…etc.
You and Matt had been together for a while now, around seven months to be exact.
Tonight Matt had decided to invite you over something you’re always down for. But as of now you we being somewhat ignored while he played a couple games of fortnite with his friends.. Chris included, Unfortunately I couldn’t help but become more and more bored by the second… wishing he’d get off the game and give me more attention.. Something I felt too bad to admit considering he’s always getting off the game when I’m around… Eventually (after 2 hours) I got fed up with just sitting around in the background so I decide to grab a extra chair from the Dinning area and sit next to him
Upon sitting the chair down Matt looks up at me and smiles.. only a quick glance so he could assess my facial movement hoping I wasn’t as mad as I seemed.. I just look at the screen..
After around 5 minutes i start to focus on the way his hands are moving.. super fast.. over the keys he pressed so delicately, it turned me on, fast.. “shut the fuck up pussy” Matt shouts at a player he killed.. I could slowly feel my pink underwear get soaked, an extra large T shirt Matt had given me keeping me from staining the chair..I slowly run my hands down to my underwear to check if i’ve made a mess on the chair, hoping Matt doesn’t catch me when my hands between my legs.. I remove my hand quickly after realizing I’ve made a nice sized puddle on the seat running to my bag I grab a clean pair of underwear and rush out to the bathroom.. Not even thinking of the puddle on the chair..
I return from the bathroom and am immediately greeted with darkness.. I was confused for a second until i hear Matt, “come over here” he speak from his bed in the darkness.. “Did you get off the game? why is it dark.” i ask still confused.. “just come here” he spouts. I climb in the bed with my two knees, immediately sweep off them and laid flat on the mattress.. Matt above me with my wrists pined down with his hands.. “you made a huge mess on my chair..” He spoke leaning down directly in my ear.. “ how am i supposed to clean that” he added
“i didn’t mean to..” i spoke… “he turns his head.. “hmm what was it? what got you all worked up” he asks one hand trailing down my stomach to reach for my pussy… “i-it was.. you playing the game.. well—your fingers specifically.. they really made me hot..” i reply lightheaded.. “is that so? what about them?” he asked pushing his hands in my underwear slowly “was it? my hand on the mouse or the keys? or was it how fast you correlated it to me holding you down and rubbing your pussy” he questioned hand reaching my hole, eventually diving in with two fingers.. I couldn’t reply, too stunned to speak as he pushed his fingers further lathering them up in my juices, he pulls his hand out sucking both fingers.. pulling my underwear down from underneath me..
Kissing down my stomach as he yanked them down.. arriving at my area placing a soft kiss almost as a sign of respect due to the fact that he’s about to devour the poor thing.. Face immediately digging in causing me to spur a few profanities “oh fu-shit- Matt” i moaned, as his tongue run up and down on my clit, sucking and slobbering all over it.. “please Matt” i beg, worried I’d make a even bigger mess than before on the chair.. He just continues to eat me out, licking in somewhat of a figure eight formation.. moaning in between every one of my moans..
Coming closer to my climax i can’t help but grab his head pushing him deeper in my ocean, tongue diving deeper than the titanic, as i begin to orgasm i start to cream, him sliding two fingers in and out of me as his tongue does the two step on my flit sends me into over drive.. In less than two minutes I’m finishing, him still pumping two fingers in and out as he smiles up at me, gorgeous blue eyes staring in my soul
Rising over me and pulling my legs down he looks me in my eyes causing me to get more wet by the minute. He leans down closer to my neck kissing down to my collar bones, “Matthew please just fuck me” I beg not being able to take his soft lips kissing all over me.. wanting for him to just be inside me already.. “i’m going as fast as i can love..be patient.” he speaks finally making it to my nipple, sucking it him between his teeth immediately, rolling his tongue around it like a lollipop, he then grabs my waist pulling himself down closer to me.. his warm body hovering over me.. he releases my nipple “are you ready love?” he asks staring up at me from my boobs “yes matt please! i-I need you!” i beg in to which he pulls his pants down his ankles and off his legs.. He positions himself to my hole, mesmerized by the juices flowing out. “ok” he smiles and slides in for the first thrust, his hands gripping his headboard above me, “aghh-Ma-you’re so big oh my-“ i moan feeling every inch of him enter me.. being shadowed by his arm hanging from the bedpost.
He continues to thrust deeper and deeper in me, brushing that spot each time “oh f-fu-Matt” i stammer. “look at me?” he tells “huh” i react unable to keep my eyes open.. “look at me, i wanna see you cum, i wanna be the last time you think of when you climax” he asks thrusting in and out in such a quick pace.. eventually i hear a crack.. unbothered by it he continues to stroke deep gripping the bed frame tighter and tighter with each thrust, becoming deeper and deeper with each stroke..
“FUCK” he moans almost as a shout.. “ouu- matthew..fuck me..goodness” a few moans utter from my breathless mouth.. I can feel myself arching my back as i let my orgasm take over me. “MATT-fuck” i scream in to which he grabs my face preventing me from screaming any louder.. I can feel him begin to increase his pace looking in my eyes “yeah, i know baby” he says “cum for me” he adds.. “just like that” he says as he pushes me to orgasm..
I watch his face contort as his thrust get violent, getting closer to his high. eyes closing as he lets out the breathiest moans “o-oh fu-ck, shi- god you feel like heaven” he breathes. eyes rolling back, and just then that’s when i hear the bed frame crack, both of us falling 20 inches to the floor, mattress and bed cot underneath us, matt still inside me. He hurriedly gets up “are you ok? are you ok?” he stammers worriedly hopping off the bed “i’m ok im just on the floor” i laugh from the angle im looking up at him.
He then helps me up and stands there thinking of a way to fix his bed, now on the floor.. He decides to remove his bed frame completely for the time being.. “Can you sit over at the desk?” he asks looking at me with a concerned look.. I just laugh and walk over and sit in his chair. He then lifts the bed up off the ground leaning it against the wall and then grabs each panel one by one taking them down to the garage..
I just decide to hop in the shower..
Once i’m out the shower i come back in the room for the second time to see Matt sitting on his bed, that is now on the floor completely made up with no bed frame.. “I didn’t know what else to do.. I can order a new one tomorrow” he states.. “haha ok, what are we gonna tell Chris and Nick” I laugh thinking of all they’d have to say… “I don’t know..Nothing for now” he chuckles.. I just hop into the bed.. “your TV is up wayyyy too high now” i laugh at his TV mounted to the wall. “stop- i’m gonna have a bed frame!!” he whines jokingly.
3 hours later…
You hear Chris and Nick in the hallway talking about a fortnite game they were playing which spikes Matt’s attention. He hops up and runs out the room..
Minutes later you hear Matt nearing the bedroom door talking to Chris.. They both enter the room in a rush to what i’m assuming is get to the fortnite launch.. “Yo what the fuck-what happened to your bed” Chris states, Nick walking in behind them.. he gives you a funny disgusted look walking out the room “You both are nasty- oh my god” he fake gags. Matt and I both look to eachother. Chris shaking his head in disapproval “i can’t believe that’s what i was hearing earlier” “I need to go” He adds walking out the room and down the steps to his. “NICK ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE” I yell.. “GIRL BYE” He shouts back from the steps leading to his room making his way up the stairs so they can all get on the game.
You and Matt just giggle with eachother before he puts his headset back on…
De End 🧌
A/N: aye i wrote this as fast as i could for yall,so you know… my bad if it isnt “perfect”, also idk if i should’ve had a tag list but.. idk lmk if yall wanna be on a tag list.. also btw message me yalll!! I BE BORED!!
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tonysbed · 22 days
Text
Love, Cars and leaked tapes | MV1 & ???
max verstappen x driver!reader
Summary: Max Icloud gets hacked, which resolves in a sextape leak. Max suddenly gets scared that he still has the tape of Vegas 21 on his phone..
warnings: Talk abt sex, leaked sextape, sexual language, swearing?
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Your face was pale, hands gripping your phone and eyes wide. You had told Max hundreds of times to not keep any tapes on his phone in case of things like this.
Someone had gained access to Max’s Icloud and leaked your sextape. You were a little relieved when you saw which one it was. Just a simple ‘vanilla’ missionary sex video. Nothing to special. It could’ve gone worse.
The front door of your shared apartment slammed shut “Schatje? Where are you?” His voice seemed stressed “Living room” You yelled back.
His frame appears before you “Lifje I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was still on there. God I’m so stupid” He sat down at the other end of the sofa.
You sighed “See the positive” He raised his eyebrows “What’s positive to this?” You crawled over to him and laid your head in his lap “It wasn’t anything worse”
His eyes widened “Oh god, Did I delete Vegas 21 from my phone?” His fingers trying to fish his phone out of his pocket “Max”
He frantically starts searching his phone “Max” He didn’t show a reaction.
“Max Emilian Verstappen.” You hissed. His eyes shot up to you “You didn’t. There aren’t any more leaked tapes, AND Vegas 21 was one of the first that went into a USB-Stick” You smiled gently “It will be okay”
He nodded, opening his arms for you. You smiled again and climbed onto his lap, his arms locking around you.
“At least everyone knows who makes you feel so good, mh?” His eyes lock onto yours “Mh..Could say the same for you. You kept whimpering” He chuckled “Cause your a dirty little minx and kept clenching around me”
Your voice lowered “Oh and you didn’t like that?��� Max eyes glinted with a hint of lust “I didn’t say that, did I?” You shake your head and place a kiss on his jaw.
“Lifje, jesus. We have a meeting over this.” You chuckled but kept placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck. His hand suddenly grabbed your throat.
“Enough, before you’ll see what happens. You know I don’t like bad girls” He grumbled “And you’re my good girl, right?” You nod, unable to form words “Good. Now let’s go”
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The walk into the paddock the next day was weird to say the least. Even tho you both showed up confidently.
Headline over headline was thrown your way.
-
Enews
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739.540 likes
Enews Even after yesterdays Events, Max Verstappen and Y/n Y/l/n strutted into the paddock. L/n more than Verstappen. He seemed more quiet and intimidated by the loud media and quickly went into his garage. Y/n went over to fans, signed stuff and took pictures with Fans. Once the tape was mentioned she rolled her eyes but laughed a little “Of course it’s not great but there’s nothing I can do now so..Yeah We’re good.I think there could’ve been worse leaked so..” She shrugged and then answered why Max simply slipped into the garage “He’s just annoyed by it so leave Max be a little, yeah?”
user93 NOT GREAT? Maybe not for you but jeez..Mans been hitting it good :o
user29 No wonder the man is always calm, he’s got himself a relief there 😨
user74 can’t get over the fact that he called her ‘good girl’ HOW IS SHE SURVIVING?!
user82 There’s more proof that they’re the hottest couple ever
user26 love how light she’s taking it (the leak not max)
user97 just died at this 😭
user63 man is packing 😃
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After the race, neither you or Max went into the interviews. To exhausted by all the pressure and questions about the tape. Yet you had to because you both got on the podium with Charles.
You were sitting between them, fidgeting with the microphone. Max seemed more relaxed than he did this morning. He looked over to you and nudged your knee with his.
He mouthed ‘You okay?’ You nodded and smiled shortly. Luckily the reporters respected your wish that there were no questions about the tape. Well, until the last reporter started asking about the tape. Before you or Max could say something, Charles spoke up.
“I don’t think this is necessary. They both have been so kind about the prying eyes and questions, kept their calm but it’s enough. This was a complete invasion of their private life and it’s so disrespectful. You wouldn’t want that happening to you either, right? It’s so brave that they actually sat down here, even tho they knew there was a high chance of this happening. This is supposed to be about our cars and performance, not any disgusting invasion of privacy.”
You smiled at Charles and so did Max. He shot you both a smile back and the reporter just went back to his seat.
After you wrapped up and walked to your car with Max, you saw charles walking across the parking lot. You pulled at Max’s shirt “We should say thank you, don’t you think” He nodded “I’ll go” You say and jog over to the Ferrari driver.
“Charles!” He turned around and his tense expression immediately relaxed “Yeah?”
“I-No we wanted to thank you again. It was really kind of you in there” He smiled “No problem. It’s just so unfair for you two. Really sorry that people are like this” You chuckle “As long as you’re not like them” He shook his head and laughed “Absolutely not”
She gave him a quick hug “See you next week” He nodded “Rest well” You smile “You too”
You walked back to your car and sat in the passenger seat “Still glad that it wasn’t Vegas 21 to be honest” Max said while keeping his eyes on the road “Yeah, That would’ve been a bigger scandal than this one.”
Max nodded and laid his hand on your left thigh “Well be alright” You placed your hand on top of his “Yes we will. Especially with you by my side” He chuckled “I love you”
“I love you more”
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I randomly had this idea while making a Lewis edit. Don’t ask how the hell that was connected but here we are.
Do you want a part where you see what happens in Vegas?:0
I didn’t proofread cause it’s like past midnight and I’m way to tired to I apologise for any mistakes 🤧
Vegas Part
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verinarin · 4 months
Note
recently found your blog and I really love your writings about Dr. Ratio 💖 I was wondering if i could req a headcanon or a scenario where him and the reader were engaged or arranged marriage, and the reader feels a lil left out in their home bcz he seem to not GAF 😮‍💨 I'd love to see how he'd open up to the reader, feel free to ignore this req or decline it, and of course take your time, thank you! ♡♡♡
Aaaa thankuu so much for supporting mee !, tbh Ratio is the only character that I want to write rn ahahahaʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ
Fluff & Angst | Angst w comfort because I refuse to write angst without comfort !!!
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It’s not a secret anymore, your engagement with Veritas is widely spread throughout the Intelegensia Guild, even the Genius Society heard about the news, how can it not spread ?. You’re both highly respected scholars although both have different approaches to teaching you both still excel in your respective fields. However, no one knows that this arrangement of yours is out of convenience, but you and he agreed that it’ll be mutually beneficial if you both marry
“Let’s marry, I know well that this proposal lacks romance since I’m not marrying for love it’s just I’m quite tired of people pestering about my personal life and it seems you too are tired of people pursuing you, even if it is a loveless marriage I would take care of you and be loyal to you till the end of my breath, so please do think about my proposal because to be frank I can’t seem to imagine spending the rest of my life with someone else,”
That was what he said while you were in the middle of discussing a project with him, the sudden proposal shocked you of course but after mulling it for a week you decided to agree with his proposal, you weren’t expecting a ring but he did give you one, surprisingly it first your ring finger perfectly
You know very well that love is out of the equation in this future marriage of yours, Veritas never seemed to be interested in pursuing love and you respected that but now it seems like you’ve been craving more than you signed up for, it’s started when he first asks you to live with him, it was shocking of course but you’re going to be his wife anyways so why not start early to assimilate to the new environment and dynamic
Things start to go downhill from there since he does these little things. For example, all of the cutlery, knives, plates, and spices were high up on the shelves when you first moved in. He noticed that you struggled grabbing simple things from the shelves, hence he redesigned his whole kitchen to make things more accessible to you
Well the other thing that made you develop feelings for him is your sleeping arrangements, he made you a room inside of his house fully furnished with your favourite books and even your own office inside, the room is hand painted beautifully with your favourite colour when you ask who decorated the room he bashfully replied that all of the things inside your room is fully constructed and decorated by him, is this a loveless marriage you keep pondering over and over as you lay your restless body on the couch
Veritas promised you that he would come home early today to help you with your dissertation, but it seems he’ll be late again. You can’t help but wonder if he has someone out there, but it can’t be he told you himself he would be loyal to you, but you can’t seem to dismiss such a thought
You knew what you signed up for but you still can’t help but fall for him, how naive. Your eyes crystallised as you tried to conceal your feelings, the warmth of your cardigan couldn’t help to warm the loneliness you’ve been feeling, if Veritas was here he would laugh at you, you thought to yourself
You fell asleep on the couch, tired from the stress of your upcoming dissertation. It seems that when you’re already blissfully unaware of the real dimension Veritas comes home. He calls your name to no avail only to see you sleeping soundly on the couch, your cheeks wet from the tears you shed, it tugs a string on his chest as he examines you curled up all by yourself to produce some kind of warmth
Without much thought he quickly took off his coat and put his briefcase on the coffee table in front of you, he sat beside your head before slowly lifting it and resting it upon his thighs. He had always hated to admit his feelings towards you, he thought it was a weakness for him to have, but he has always liked you
He finds it hard to express himself and find it harder to acknowledge that he wants more than this loveless marriage, he was too afraid that you’re not keen towards the idea of loving someone with his track record, and he certainly does not have the best qualities to possess as a husband, yet he would try to become better to make you happy
But it seems he fails to do so, he silently gazes upon your expression, his thumb wipes away the tear stain of your soft skin, he can’t help but question himself, if you wake up would you hate him for this ?
He quietly sighs as he drags his coat and covers your body with it, his hand brushes through your hair softly while grabbing your dissertation off the table, he feels worse than before seeing that you prepared a hot drink and snacks for him before you accidentally fell asleep
So the least that he could do is to let you rest while he reads the contents of your dissertation, your hair feels soft so soft that he can’t seem to focus on your dissertation without petting it
Reading your dissertation is like reading what’s inside of your captivating mind he loves so much, he can’t help but feel lucky that you’ll have his last name soon, that he could flaunt you as a partner as someone equal in future events because he truly thinks that you are his other half
You both have disagreements on certain things yet somehow complement each other so beautifully that he can’t help but feel like he was made to be yours, feeling your skin against his palm as he cups your cheek further proves his hypothesis that his hands are made to hold you, love you, worship you
But his foolish ego seems to restrict him from such necessities, his inability to profess his love verbally would cost him you sooner or later, he just hopes that you could feel how he cares
He never explicitly told you about his adoration for you, yet he’s willing to show you instead hoping one day you’ll see how badly he has fallen for you
He kept lightly tracing your cheeks as he continued to read your dissertation, that’s when you flutter your eyes open, feeling ticklish from the light touch, “Veritas ?,
“Yes dearest ?,” once your eyes meet with his, he knows very well that’s the moment the walls he built and the ego he has dissipate into thin air
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lovelytsunoda · 8 months
Text
glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri
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summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)
“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”
oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“but why?”
oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”
y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.
who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.
“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”
oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.
“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”
she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”
it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).
it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.
she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.
this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?
she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.
“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”
oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”
that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.
why on earth was she agreeing to this?
“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”
the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.
“oscar, what are you doing?”
he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”
god, this man was going to be the death of her.
————
she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.
from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.
she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.
they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.
"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.
oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.
"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"
"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.
she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.
"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.
my boyfriend oscar.
"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.
oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."
carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."
"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.
oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.
australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.
but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.
________
"you've got to be shitting me."
she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.
except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.
a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.
"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"
she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"
oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.
"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."
did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?
she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.
"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."
"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.
she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.
if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-
nope. we're not going there today.
she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?
when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?
he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.
all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?
wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.
he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.
it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.
he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.
the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.
god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.
he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.
he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.
and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.
“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.
she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.
“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”
“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”
they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.
"yes."
she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.
she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.
she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.
"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."
oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"
"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."
god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.
"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."
"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."
oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."
"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.
"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."
"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."
"i look forward to it."
oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.
"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.
she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.
"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."
she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.
in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.
"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.
it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.
"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."
he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."
he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.
-------
they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.
"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."
"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."
"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"
fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.
the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.
she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.
"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."
she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."
oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."
"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."
"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."
-------
the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.
that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.
but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.
oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.
"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."
oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"
y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."
oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"
all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.
y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.
sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.
"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."
"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."
the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.
"can i have this dance, my love?"
she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.
man, she could really get used to this.
get used to oscar.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc
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frost-queen · 22 days
Text
My mortal flaw // part 4 (Reader x Zuko)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget,
@ficsmoothie, @reallysparklychaos, @deafeningartisancandy, @multifandom-lover01, @smilefortae, @bravelittlebastard, @mysticwitchcraftco, @roseazura, @katie-tibo, @savannah0111, @defnotriri, @darkened-writer, @avrilh, @anea08, @mymoonempress, @tcey0, @romantic-reader, @lionheart178, @pink-www, @aloe-7, @tomblythslut, @camilo-uwu, @lunalixya, @karmaswitch, @vewnyy, @h33seungs-babe, @junieshohoho, @buggs-1, @elakari
Summary: Returning to a massive city in the earthkingdom. The three of you are rather greeted with brutal force... from fire benders. What might cause them to lash out to the fire prince and what will this mean for the future. [ part 1  & part 2 & part 3 ]
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The ship neared land. You stood at the railing, still feeling a bit out of sense. You weren’t your full self yet. Still recovering from the Northern water tribe battle. Turning your head you caught Zuko arriving on deck. His fire nation clothing set aside. Settling for something plain. More natural to the earth kingdom colours. It made you look at your own clothing for a moment. Stating it so obvious you were from the water tribes. The brightest blue and silver.
Zuko went over to the other side, watching a small boat be lowered into the waters to head for land. Not a moment later came Iroh in sight. No sign of his fire nations colours as well. It made you wonder for a moment if you needed to change as well. One of the soldiers approached you. – “Princess.” – he greeted with a bow. He then gestured at Zuko and Iroh, who were waiting to get on the boat.
You gave him a respective nod before following him to the boat. Iroh took you by the arm, moving you forwards. – “Are you sure you are up for it?” – Iroh asked. – “Yes.” – you told him, not wanting them to be on their own. Also you didn’t want to look weak in front of them.
You got helped down in the boat. Iroh already sitting down with you. Looking up, you saw Zuko speak to his closest soldier. Slipping him something as it made you wonder what it was. Zuko then made his way down. You decided not to ask about it. Iroh handed an oar over to Zuko. They wanted to set it in the water as you got up, undoing yourself from your cloak.
With a deep sigh you sometimes wondered if they were truly dumb or just pretending to be. – “Put the oars down boys.” – you told them. Zuko and Iroh gave each other a glance. – “Princess you are not fully healed yet… let us row.” – Iroh suggested. You didn’t want to hear it. You could easily bring them to shore in a few minutes, while their rowing might take you hours.
“I’m not made of glass.” – you commented taking a stand in the centre of the boat. – “Y/n sit down!” – Zuko ordered bothered. You puffed loud, swaying your hands. The boat got pushed through the water, making Zuko fall back. Annoyed he grabbed onto the railing.
The water rippled smoothly around the boat as you steered it to land. Iroh enjoying the breeze. Zuko sitting with his arms crossed, moping grumpily. In a matter of minutes, you arrived at land. Iroh and Zuko pushed the boat further onto land to hide. You left your coat in the boat as it wasn’t cold anymore. – “Where are we going?” – you asked joining Zuko and Iroh.
“Anywhere!” – Zuko responded bitsy. Rolling with your eyes, you followed them further into the earth kingdom. After a while of wandering the forests, you started to recognized bits and pieces of previous travels. You had been here before not so long ago. Once you found a pathway, you knew enough.
Seeing the mountain of a city up head. Omashu. Frowning you wondered where all the people were. People used to line up to the gates to try and enter. Now it was deserted. You didn’t appear to be the only one confused, as Iroh was as equally confused yet didn’t commented on it. Zuko was leading the way.
Bushes ruffled as it made Zuko and Iroh take a stand. You turned around taking a stand for yourself to protect them from behind. There was more rustling till some men appeared from behind it. Zuko and Iroh lowered their firm hands with a soft sigh. They were fire nation soldiers. – “It’s the prince!” – one of them called out loud. Something about their tone alerted you.
Two or three men joined as they performed a sequence to conjure fire. Iroh and Zuko stumbled confused back. You tensed your jaw pushing between them as their fire unleashed. Moving your hands across, you caught the fire with a stream of water. They were shocked for a moment. Your expression turned serious, staring coldly at them.
“What is going on?” – Iroh called out confused why some of their own would attack. – “This is Prince Zuko!” – he told them. The soldiers ignored Iroh’s talk, pushing their fists forwards to blast fire at them. You held your hands in front of you, blocking the fire with a wave of water. Zuko grunted loud with a shout, letting his hands blaze fire.
Zuko threw fire at them with loud grunts of anger. Iroh joined keeping himself composed while he bended. Two of them turned their attention to you. Chuckling thinking this would be an easy win. You smiled witty back at them before letting water swish around you. Swiping your hands below while you spun, sweeping them off their feet with water.
A little change of your hand posture made the water go cold and turn into ice. You caught Zuko stumbling back, arms up as he blocked a wave of fire. You rushed over to him as Zuko lowered his hands. Doing a little jump, you moved your leg from up to down as you had seen Zuko do numerous times. A stream of water slashing the soldier like a whip.
The soldier got whipped to the ground. Zuko stared with wide eyes at you, recognizing the fire bending move. Zuko’s attention fell on a soldier coming from the side. He grabbed your wrist, pulling at it. Stumbling over your feet, you got moved behind him as he blocked the fire coming your way.
Another one came in view as you turned your posture towards him. Fighting back to back with Zuko against the soldiers. Water droplets nearing fire flickers. Iroh came closer as the three of you stood up right, panting as you looked at the soldiers out bested. Zuko puffed angered walking up the them. – “Who send you!” – he called out.
The soldiers were too worn out to reply, barely finding the strength to get up. You joined Zuko’s side, grabbing one by the collar. – Don’t mess with the prince again!” – you told them coldly. You then punched him in the jaw, sending him back down. Zuko turned towards you, touching your elbow.
“I’m good.” – you told him before he could ask it. He nodded firm in return. – “We cannot stay here.” – Iroh spoke urging Zuko and you to leave with him. The three of you went on, trailing up to the great city of Omashu. – “The fire nation so close to Omashu… they never dared before.” – Iroh mumbled to himself.
The city peaked up. Eyes widening as your mouth fell open. The flags of the fire nation waving gracefully in the wind against the sturdy walls of Omashu. - “How?” – you questioned. – “The water tribe was a distraction.” – Iroh commented firm. – “Who could’ve done this?” – was your next question as your eyes fell on something. You walked past Zuko closer to the walls. It first seemed little, but when you came closer it was a thousand papers sticking to the wall.
You gasped tearing one off the wall. – “What do you have?” – Zuko asked in a loud tone. His question made you move it behind your back. Not that it was many use as it was plastered a thousand times more behind you. Zuko approached you, keeping his gaze at you.
Coming to stand in front of you. – “Y/n!” – he simply said to demand you to give him what you were keeping hidden from him. Shaking your head, you didn’t want him to see. Zuko moved his arm around you, snatching the paper from your hands. It was a bit wrinkled so he smoothed it over till his eyes widened as well.
The shock in his eyes when he saw his own face on a wanted poster. He then looked up seeing a thousand more of them sticking to the wall. The poster crumbled in his hands as it flared up in flames. Turning to ashes. Zuko grunted turning sharp on his heel. Iroh neared looking at the posters for himself. – “Is it the fire lord?” – you asked him.
Iroh exhaled deep. – “Perhaps…” – he muttered. Iroh took you by the arm, leading you away from the walls of Omashu. The city wasn’t save anymore. – “Those soldiers… is that why they?” – you questioned. – “I fear so.” – Iroh commented, eyeing Zuko up ahead. Pacing like a mad man.
The three of you moved back towards the waters. Iroh keeping a close eye on every bush. They might be the first, but they won’t be the last. Not now when Zuko is being seen as an enemy of the nation. A shadow fell over the ground as it caught your attention. It made you look up, blocking the sun out to get a better look. High up in the sky, you saw the sky bison soar over the woods.
Knowing it was the Avatar. He probably knew about the fall of Omashu as well. Having been falling a bit behind, you jogged over to join Iroh. Iroh caught up with Zuko catching him by his shoulder. Zuko pushed his hand off with aggression. – “Three years I fought to restore my honour and now! I am seen as a traitor to the fire nation!” – he yelled, losing his temper.
Iroh wanted to reach out to his nephew but Zuko just pushed him away. – “I don’t need your sympathy old man!” – he cursed out. – “Zuko!” – you yelled for his temper. – “I certainly don’t need yours!” – he made clear with an angry point.
“Good because you don’t deserve it!” – you answered loudly. Zuko crossed his arms, turning away from you like a grumpy defeated child. – “You have two choices here Zuko. You can either complain about it or do something about it!” – you explained having enough of his whining. Zuko kept his clenched posture for a moment, till he exhaled deep, loosening his muscles.
He slowly turned his head back to you, ashamed that he got scolded by you. – “Now I assume we can’t go back to the ship?” – you asked Iroh who nodded. – “So we live on as fugitives until we get to the bottom of this.” – you took the lead as it seemed he wasn’t capable of taking decisions that were of ration. Zuko looked over at his uncle who only shrugged his shoulders, agreeing in silent with you.
Zuko puffed loud going right, heading away from the ship. Iroh gave you an approving nod. You were getting better at tempering him. Proudly you smiled in return. The three of you arrived at a stream. Zuko sighed soft as he came kneeling before the stream. Iroh on his right as you came kneeling on his left. Zuko took out a knife as you wondered what he might do.
He brought it up to his ponytail. With a bit of hesitation he cut it off. He then handed the knife over to Iroh, who cut the little bun on his head off. You looked down, closing your eyes for a moment. Opening them, you brought your hands to your neck. Unclipping the necklace of your tribe from your neck. You brought it forwards in your hand. Zuko and Iroh threw their cut off hair into the stream.
Staring at your necklace, you knew the sacrifice you had to do. Moving your hand forwards you wanted to toss your necklace into the water with them. A sudden grip around your wrist withheld you from doing it. Surprised you looked at Zuko. His hand tight around your wrist, his gaze focused on the water.
“It’s my sacrifice.” – you explained. Wanting to show them you were with them till the end. – “No.” – Zuko simply said. He took the necklace out of your hand, bringing it away from the water, closer to him. His hand disappeared under his shirt, where he tugged your necklace away. Your heart warmth by this, you touched his cheek, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek. Still wanting to give something up of yours, you ripped a piece of your dress. Tossing it into the stream.
Glancing to your side, you saw Zuko stare in silence in front of him. Caught off guard by your kiss. Taking a deep breath, you accepted your new faith. Not sure who portrayed Zuko and Iroh as traitors to the fire nation.
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jaylaxies · 9 months
Text
THE PATH TO A NERD’S HEART
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PAIRING: nerd!jay × fem!reader
GENRE/CW: sub!jay, dom!reader, smut, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, slight biting and marking, mentions of bullying, room sharing, kissing, handjob, mentions of sunghoon
WC: 8.1k (8169) words
SYNOPSIS: the annual debate competition was just around the corner and you were thrilled to meet your partner, who turned out to be park jongseong. from you studying together to him asking you how it feels to kiss someone, how would your relationship progress? especially when you offer to give him a demonstration, even more so when he asks if he could get a bit more.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! i've re-edited this fic and i’m reposting as per the request of my anonnie! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3
“What have you done to her?” The principal sighed in distress, slightly turning his head, glancing at the girl who sat next to you with an expression filled with misery, a girl with a broken nose to be more precise.
“With all due respect, sir, she was bullying a student, which clearly goes against our school policies, and further, she tried to punch me when I asked her to stop. She had it coming,” you calmly explained the whole situation, fake politeness dripping off your tone.
The girl next to you screamed like a maniac after hearing your statement, flailing her arms and legs, claiming that you were the one who attacked her first. She never failed to show her spoiled-child behaviour in public.
“I request you to please check the surveillance camera of the corridor, it'll make it more clear to you, sir,” you faked your smile as Hana Lee, the bully, started crying, knowing that nothing could save her from the upcoming punishment now.
She was soon dismissed to go to the medical room, her wound bleeding, yet she didn’t show a sign to stop protesting.
“Miss Y/N, I understand that what Miss Lee did was wrong, but that does not give you any right to punch her.” He looked at you with an expression that clearly displayed disappointment.
“It was just self defense from my side, sir,” you said with wide eyes, plastering your most innocent face in front of him, wanting to leave his office as soon as possible.
He sighed, “you’re one of our top students, miss Y/N, and I appreciate you caring for the other students, but please refrain from using punches next time. You can leave now.”
You finally smiled in victory, muttering a ‘thank you’ before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the office.
As you got out of the office, a hand immediately grabbed your wrist, causing you to widen your eyes at the sudden gesture, your own hand curling its fingers to punch until you saw who it was.
He softly pulled you to the empty staircase area.
“I’m sorry,” he slowly whispered, he had a busted lip and red eyes, the sight made your heart hurt, a frown settling on your face.
“Jay! Oh my god! Does it hurt?” You asked, hand extending towards his face.
You barely knew the boy, in fact, your first ever proper interaction with him took place this morning.
“You shouldn’t have stepped up for me,” he sighed, eyes not meeting yours as he looked at his shoes, confused as to why you would help him.
“I don’t care what you say, I cannot stand bullying, Jay,” you simply told him, getting closer to see his wound, the wound caused by Hana.
Now, the question is: How did you reach here in the first place?
Let’s start by replaying the morning events.
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The yearly Inter-school English debate was two months away from now. Meaning, that you’ll soon know who your assigned partner is for this year’s competition would be.
Your English teacher had asked you to meet her, so you made your way towards the staff room. You greeted her as soon as you saw her, eyes soon moving to observe a guy with specs standing next to her.
“Y/N, c’mere! Meet Park Jay, he’ll be your partner for this year’s debate competition,” your teacher explained.
You smiled, extending your hand which he shyly took into his bigger ones, “nice to meet you, Jay.”
Your radiant smile caused Jay to crack a small smile of his own, “it’s really nice to meet you too,” he said.
Further, the teacher explained how your school won’t be the host for the debate this year, instead, the Busan branch will be the one to do so.
Conclusively, she informed you that all your expenses will be paid by the school, except for the extra souvenirs you would purchase there for yourself.
You listened to it all, giving small nods at the end of her sentences, your eyes also shifting to look at the guy standing next to you, his gaze focused on what your teacher was telling.
A hotel will be arranged and she will accompany you both for your two day trip to the competition.
“The topic will be provided to you both soon, I hope both of you will get along well, please don’t hesitate to ask for any sort of help from me,”Ms. Hwang smiled at you both and ensured that you were okay with this setting.
Park Jay. You knew him, of course you did. He’s always been exceptionally smart in studies, him being the only one in school who matched your own pace.
The only difference between you was his shy nature. Your nature screamed enthusiasm and boldness, hence, making friends came easily to you. You were one of the popular students, not to mention how you were good at academics too, which was also paired with your kind nature.
However, you didn’t know much about Jay, except for the fact that he was good at studies and closed off, with little to no friends at your school.
This piqued your curiosity.
After Ms. Hwang left, you turned to look at the shy boy, asking him if he’d be up to eat lunch with you, to get to know each other better.
His eyes slightly widened at your suggestion and you theorized it must be because he never eats with anyone else, which worried you as you thought you had crossed a line.
His small smile just after, ensured that it was not the case, “I’d love to,” he said, and you noted how sharp yet cute his smile was.
The whole student body was shocked to see Jay interacting with the popular girl herself, their eyes fixated on your table.
It wasn’t your concern though, you were enjoying having a simple conversation with him, asking him about his hobbies. He got excited that you were willing to talk to him, not forcing yourself like the other students did. And he tried his best not to show how excited he was.
He told you about his love for fashion, his smile growing at each word he spoke, you found his deep voice pretty as you paid attention to everything he had to tell and offer.
He stopped his sentence midway, looking at you as you stared at him with shiny eyes.
“I talk a lot, don’t I?” His shyness came back to him all of a sudden.
“No! I think that it’s really beautiful that you’re so passionate about something, I could hear you speak about it for hours,” you reassured him, reaching forward to hold his hand which was kept on the table.
He breathed out softly, gulping at the sight of your joined hands and your reassuring smile, his cheeks heating up and a sudden warmth spreading through his chest.
Just one conversation and he already wanted to trust you, to spend more time with you, to get to know you better.
He looked forward to it all.
You wanted the same, to get to know him better. Jay was cute effortlessly, and you were quick to notice that even slight proximity made him nervous to the point his ears got red.
You found it adorable, promising yourself to keep a check on him to make sure he doesn’t feel lonely at school anymore.
So, when you saw Hana cornering and punching him for not completing her homework, you knew you had to step in.
He watched how you pushed her away from him, standing as a barrier between them both. He noticed how you raised your voice at her, the demeanour completely changed from the sweet one which you had in the morning.
He noticed how you didn’t hesitate to block her punch, your own hand swiming to counter punch her instead with no regrets whatsoever.
He stood there in awe, he knew was thankful to you, however, he was too shocked to even form words.
You turned back to look at him, his lip bleeding and his bloodshot eyes made you worried and angry at the same time.
Before you could say anything to him, you were dragged to the principal's office.
Which brings you back here.
Jay silently cried in front of you, “you don’t deserve this,” you softly said with a sad frown before hugging him
His hands grabbed your waist as he softly weeped into your shoulder, your hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.
You weren’t sure how long Hana had been bullying him into doing his homework, but now, you had this sudden urge of wanting to protect him, your hands tightening around him.
He calmed down after a few minutes, body still holding on to you.
“Thank you,” he softly whispered, taking a step back, his eyes meeting yours for a second before he turned away, rushing to leave.
He did not stop when you called out his name, thrice.
You sighed, stuffing your hands in the jacket pocket before leaving for the next class.
The boy never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the lecture.
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The news had spread all around the school as the newest gossip. Some said that Jay was your new boyfriend, while some assumed you to be his bully. Nevertheless, no one bullied him after Hana got suspended for using violence in school.
Soon after, the theme for the debate was announced and Ms. Hwang had called you both to inform you about the same.
You observed his face, seeing him for the first time after that incident and you were glad to see that all his wounds were healed and didn’t leave any scars.
When he felt you looking at him, he turned to look at you, smiling softly to say hello.
After some minutes of general discussion with your teacher, she left you both alone as she had to grade other test papers.
You never brought up the topic of Hana again, only paying attention to the debate. Jay kept on glancing at you from time to time.
“Thank you,” he whispered shyly, passing you a bottle of your favourite drink, which made you tilt your head to look up at him, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I asked Sora,” he rushed to speak, mentioning how he asked your best friend about it.
“You didn’t have to.” A smile graced your face at his sweet gesture.
He felt more confident talking to you now, and he even attempted to make silly jokes just to see you laugh, which you did, heartily at that.
Your hand grabbed his arm as you tried to support yourself while laughing. He found it beautiful and he wished to hear your laugh more often. Your hand felt soft on his arm, sending tingles to his stomach.
You hugged him softly before leaving, your sweet scent sending Jay into a state of frenzy, his ears turning red while his heartbeat felt faster than usual.
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Being teased was like a routine for you now, your friends did everything in their will to constantly remind you how 'soft' you have gone for that nerd kid.
“Your jealousy is showing,” you smirked at Sunghoon, who repeatedly mentioned Jay in each of your conversations.
“Of fucking course! You haven’t kissed me in weeks,” he retorted.
It had been a while since you ended your friends with benefits relationship with him, you just couldn’t do it anymore, it felt wrong to you, seeing how attached he was getting with your setting.
Yet still, you decided to humor him this time.
Laughing at his pouty face, you grabbed his chin as you kissed him, trapping him against the lockers and he eagerly kissed back, not caring if anyone saw you both.
The makeout session was short lived as the bell was quick to indicate the time for your next class, a groan leaving his mouth as he punched the locker, muttering how nothing works in his favour.
You left him there, a boyish smirk spreading on his face when you winked at him.
You were breathless, but then you realized why you had left this in the first place, the guilt seeping deep inside you, knowing that it would lead him on if your suspicions were right.
You’ll say no the next time, that’s what you decided, not paying attention to the lesson the entire class.
You didn’t like him, you just needed a distraction from a certain someone who invaded your mind at the most random times.
You weren’t going to use Sunghoon as a distraction anymore.
You couldn't.
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Jay met you at the library after school, for research purposes and collecting further information on your topic to be prepared as much as possible.
“Hey,” you smiled, hugging him, which had now become a usual thing for you two.
You noticed how he was a bit hesitant somehow, his arms not pulling you closer like they always used to.
Not paying much attention to it, you both got inside and searched for your respective books and topics, noting down all the information you needed. No words were exchanged for a long time, your focus solely on the text in front of you.
“How does it feel?” A whisper was heard from beside you.
“Excuse me?” You asked, looking up at Jay, confused at his unusual antics and sudden silence. “H–how does it feel to kiss someone?” He completed his sentence, not looking up at you while he kept fiddling with the hem of his uniform sleeve.
“Wait, you saw?” You asked him, eyes widening as you thought that he might have gotten the wrong impression.
You realized that he might have seen you kiss hoon earlier today, hence his question.
“Have you ever kissed anyone before, Jay?” You enquired slowly, not missing the way his eyes turned big for a second.
“N—no,” he whispered.
“Have you ever wanted to try it?” You softly asked.
Jay was probably the purest person you had ever met, the thought of corrupting him kept on swimming in your mind, the fact that he might want to try something with you made you smile.
“Will it be fine?” he hesitated again, “isn’t he your boyfriend?” He asked, referring to Sunghoon.
“What?” you almost shouted, apologizing once you got looks from the nearby students.
Maybe the library isn’t the best place for such conversations.
“He’s not my boyfriend, Jay. We’ve had something but it was not a relationship,” you revealed.
He listened to you with all his attention, a small smile on his face when you told him that you were single, which you didn’t fail to notice.
And he nodded, saying that he wants to try. His ears were red, which you found adorable.
“Of course, we’ll stop the moment you feel uncomfortable, yeah?” You assured him.
“But, here?” he kept on asking like a kid, his heartbeat beyond control as he tried not to seem too flustered.
You laughed, “we’re meeting at my place tomorrow, right? We can try it out then, if you’d be comfortable with that,” you suggested and he agreed shyly, nodding and looking down at his fingers.
You only looked at the pretty boy next to you, wondering how far he would want to go with you.
Jay was overwhelmed by the fact that you agreed to kiss him, he had been staring at your lips ever since he saw you kiss sunghoon in the morning, deeply wishing that it was him instead.
It was pretty strange of him to think this way, but he couldn’t stop, especially when he saw how you took control of the kiss, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side and kissed him deeply.
You saw him looking dazed as you were about to leave, his actions being so cute, which left you wanting to fluster him more.
A cute yelp left his mouth as you softly pecked his cheek, tiptoeing to do so, before bidding him goodbye.
He blushed a lot in general, but you being around him took it to another level, you found it adorable to say the least, excited to see how he would behave tomorrow.
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The next day, Jay woke up early. He wanted to look perfect, to smell perfect, to be perfect for you. Not that he needed to do anything, yet he did some extra research for the debate and printed them out for you, to make up for the time you’d invest to kiss him today.
He paid more attention to his clothes, for this would be the first time you would see him without his usual uniform. He even devoted his time to do his hair, finally reaching your place at the exact time you had given him.
Releasing his breath and cussing once, he rang the doorbell.
You were quick to rush down to open the door, not wanting him to wait for long, chuckling when you saw how he rang the bell at the exact time you had given him.
His breathing hitched as he laid his eyes on you.
It was the first time he saw you looking this comfortable as you wore a soft and loose top along with sweatpants.
“Jay! Come in,” your enthusiastic voice dragged him out of his daydream as he nodded.
He followed you like a lost puppy, “are you home alone?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh, yeah! My parents come home late,” you explained with a wink, “don’t worry, baby,” you said and he almost passed out with the nickname you had used.
You smirked at his state, making him sit on your bed.
“You look good,” you complimented seeing his attire and he muttered a small thank you, a shy smile spreading on his face.
He likes to be praised, you noticed.
Without much delay, you started scripting your research papers. Jay noted how you were always serious when it came to studies and the competition, he paid attention to the way you bit your lower lip while concentrating.
Some part of him wanted you to do the same to his lips, he waited patiently for you to remember your promise to kiss him but you never once brought it up, his mood turning sad.
Taking the matter into his own hands, he spoke up.
“Can we—” he took a deep breath as you stared at him with big doe eyes, urging him to continue.
“I—it’s nothing actually.” He backed away.
You laughed, “I didn’t peg you to be the impatient type,” you smirked, well knowing what he wanted.
Closing your laptop, you urged him to come near you, patting the space next to you.
“We’ll start off with a simple peck, yeah? Pinch me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop,” you told him and he shivered as you got closer to his face, gulping his anxiety down.
“May I?” You finally asked, searching his eyes.
“Y—yes,” he whispered, nodding.
Softly placing your hand on his cheek, your lips touched his lips in a short peck. They merely touched, yet it was enough for Jay to get butterflies, heart beating out of his chest at the sensation.
You leaned back to observe his reaction, he still had his eyes closed, a soft rosy glow spread on his cheeks.
Getting closer again, you grabbed his chin, tilting his head as you dived in to kiss him, longer this time, your lips moving in sync once he got the hang of it, low whine leaving his mouth, making you smile.
You wanted to play with him even more.
So, you gently bit on his lower lip, causing him to gasp, giving you enough opportunity to taste him.
It felt so right yet, forbidden somehow.
You had invaded all his senses, you pushed him down on the bed, his eyes looking at your every move as you made him lean against the head frame, you sat down on his lap and he cussed.
“Does it feel good?” You asked with a small, teasing smile.
“Fuck, y—yes it feels so good,” he whispered out.
“Yeah? So good that my good boy is using bad words now?” You teased.
“Please,” he whined, “sorry, I’ve never done this before and it just, it felt so good I couldn’t help it,” he rambled and you shut him up with a peck.
“Lord, you’re so adorable. It makes me want to ruin you,” you breathed out, brushing his hair away from his forehead, gripping his chin and running your thumb on his swollen lower lip.
His heartbeat sped up at your words again, head dizzy as he said, “please,” and you pulled him into a deep kiss for the second time.
Your fingers softly tugged on his hair, finally causing him to moan out loud, his pretty voice resounding all over the room.
You both pulled back from the kiss after a few minutes, breathing hard and deep to come back to your senses.
“How was it?” you asked him in a gentle voice, sitting down next to him, slightly worried if you had gone too far for his first time.
His stare on your face and silence only made it worse.
“Can we do that again?” He asked after a few seconds, trying not to sound too shameless, but he couldn’t help it, not when you had offered to kiss him so nicely.
He slowly pulled the hem of your top, and you understood, coming back to kiss him, your hand on his jaw, as he shifted his position for you to take full control.
He laid underneath you as his heart pounded harder than ever, he could only focus on how soft your lips felt against his mildly chapped ones, his eyes closed as he took in everything you were willing to offer.
The said practice of your debate ended with you making out with Jay, he didn’t wish to stop, not even after his lips were swollen, his eyes shining as he looked at you as if you were a goddess.
He had to excuse himself when his cock felt painfully hard, he was beyond embarrassed and you looked at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself back before it gets too much for him.
“Here’s the washroom,” you guided him, “let me know if you need help,” you said with a smirk.
“I—thank you,” he rushed to go inside.
You knew what he was going to do, and you wished it was you who’d be the one to please him instead, his voice wasn’t silent when he took your name, as he reached his orgasm inside the washroom.
You chuckled, wondering how he’d look while doing so into your hand. He left soon after, face red and hot.
It left him wanting more.
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The debate was a week away from now, and you both were well prepared for it yet, you kept on studying from your notes. That wasn’t your concern right now though, a certain nerd had occupied your mind from the past few days.
You found it adorable how he would request you to kiss him in the empty classroom, his room, or any place where you both were alone, he wanted you guys to be alone together.
You were corrupting him, and truth being told, you wanted to corrupt him even more.
Jay had always been attractive, his knowledge was a plus point to it all. You absolutely loved his shy demeanor, no matter how comfortable you both got with each other, he could not help but blush around you.
Meanwhile, Jay was confused. He had never had girl problems before, so why did it feel so different when it came to you? Even more so when you were so good to him.
He loved how you took care of him in the most minimum way possible, you made him feel like he mattered, giving him motivational speeches (and your kisses were a cherry on top).
He knew it really well that the other students wanted to date you, or they wanted to be closer to you. Why wouldn’t they? You were perfect in their eyes, but this did not stop Jay from wanting more. He wanted you to claim him yours. You were beyond perfect in his eyes.
But he wondered if you’d ever be willing to like him back, to be with someone like him. Kissing was one thing, maybe you did it just to make him happy, but more?
He could only wish.
“All participants from the same school will be given one room to share, will it be okay for you both?” Ms. Hwang informed you both, also asking for your comfort.
Jay stiffened, he was sure to lose control if left alone with you at night.
“It’s alright for me ma’am,” you smiled.
“Yeah, for me too,” Jay shakily let out.
He wanted this, he finally decided, he’d even go as far as confessing his feelings for you.
“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” Ms. Hwang confirmed as you both nodded, you had to leave early tomorrow for the competition.
As you walked back home with Jay, saying that you’d drop him off, you spoke, “are you sure that you’ll be comfortable?” you asked as your fingers were interlocked with his, giving him butterflies.
“You’ll take care of me right?” He asked in a low whisper, suddenly stopping and looking at you.
He definitely meant more than the normal care but you were willing to give him anything.
“I will,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll take care of my pretty boy,” you said before pecking his lips and leaving him blushing on the sidewalk.
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The next morning, he didn’t have to wake up, for, he didn’t get to sleep. That’s how excited he had been, the fact that you were going to be in the same room as him at night made him blush.
His excitement only grew when he saw you at the station wearing a skirt, it was short lived as Sunghoon came into view, holding your hand, holding your luggage with his other hand.
Jay frowned at the sight.
Sunghoon looked like your boyfriend with this setting, he did not like it a bit.
You spotted Jay in a second, smiling and hugging him without thinking much, it was not returned though.
You bit down your smile, making him jealous seemed like a great idea to you, knowing well how adorable and needy he is.
Naturally, Hoon got a cheek kiss as a goodbye while Jay had a frown plastered on his face, almost like a pout.
Your teacher came to the station soon, informing you that her seat is not near you both and telling you her seat number so you can approach her for anything you’d need.
You nodded and thanked her before getting into the train, which arrived right on time.
You sat down next to him on the express train, which gave you two hours to spend with him.
“What’s wrong?” You innocently asked him, your hand resting on his thick thigh.
“N—nothing.” His breath hitched as your hand neared his upper thighs.
You softly massaged that region, “you’ll be a good boy and tell me, won’t you?”
He shivered with the tone you had used, your hands making him feel weak in the knees.
He rushed to keep his backpack on his lap to hide his private area in case something went wrong.
He whined your name as quietly as possible, “tell me what's wrong, baby?” you asked again.
He grabbed your hand, staring at you with doe eyes as he placed it high up on his thigh, near to his hardening cock.
“Not so fast,” you said as you moved your hand away, “you’re not getting anything until you tell me what’s bothering you,” you urged him.
“I was jealous,” he whispered, red adorning his face.
“Yeah? Go on,” you hummed, softly brushing your fingers in his hardened and clothed member.
The thrill of you touching him in public only made his cock hard.
“You kissed Sunghoon,” he whined, placing his head on your shoulder, trying to calm himself from the pleasure he was receiving.
“Yes I did, and what about it?” You sped up, placing your hand on his cock, thankful that he had covered himself using the bag, so that others won’t be able to see you both.
It caused him to squirm in his seat.
“I—I wanted it too,” he struggled to form words.
“Being needy, are we now?” you chuckled as he softly moaned into your neck.
“What more do you want, pretty boy?” You asked, pleasuring him.
“Your kisses, y—your touch and—ah! You,” he barely spoke.
“That’s my good boy.”
You continued your actions for a few minutes, allowing him to release his mess without you having to touch him directly.
You looked at him in awe, you wanted him to be yours. Your baby boy.
“You did so well, baby,” you cooed at his teary face, kissing him swiftly.
“Go and clean up in the washroom, yeah?” You said and he nodded, somehow making his way towards the room.
He was clingy the entire ride, and it made you smile as you gave him all your attention.
“Did you like it?” you questioned.
He bit his lip, “yes, I did,” his answer was short as he was shying away again.
“How cute,” you said, “get me a list of things you like, yeah?” you requested him just before getting off at your destination.
The whole ride to the hotel was silent as your teacher was with you both, Jay still couldn’t think straight, his mind going back to when you touched him and how devastatingly good it felt.
“Here’s your room key, you are both free till tomorrow, so you can roam around a bit but be careful! Don’t forget to meet me at the same place at 11 am sharp with your proper attire on tomorrow,” Ms. Hwang commanded and you both nodded, leaving her to settle in her room.
After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, you both sat down side by side at 9 pm. You noticed him writing something, but didn’t ask what it was, only looking at his face which had a cute pout, an expression he held whenever he was focused.
You settled down and scrolled through your messages on the phone to pass your time, even though deep inside, you wanted to spend time with Jay.
He soon came up to you, calling your name softly as you looked up at him.
He gently placed a note in your palm.
“I made the list,” he said, referring to the time you asked him to make a list of the things he liked back on the train.
You raised your brows, “come here,” you patted the place next to you before you grabbed his chin, making his heartbeat rise again.
“Let’s see now.” Holding the note in your other hand, you started reading, “degradation and praise kink? Oh, so you want to be called a dumb slut now?” you saw him nod and shiver, enjoying the way you called him a slut.
You wanted to ruin him.
“Choking? Who would have thought that our president ‘good boy’ would be into such filthy stuff,” your hand traveled from his chin to his neck, putting in a bit of pressure just enough for it to feel pleasurable.
Jay whined at the constricted feeling yet his eyes never left your face.
“You wanna be tied up? Cuffed even? And used as I wish?” Your eyes widened after reading his fantasies, the list amusing you beyond words.
You knew that Jay was willing to try stuff but you never expected it to be this wild, you loved it and you bit your lips as you looked his way.
“Please?” He requested you, eyes innocent.
“What do you want me to do, baby boy?” you finally asked as he gulped, coming closer to whisper something in your ear.
“Want you to touch me, please.”
“Like this?” You pulled him closer by the neck, your hand traveling down from his torso to his lower abdomen, and you noticed how he shivered with your touch.
“I—yes,” he let out desperately.
Switching to a better position, you got close to him, almost sitting on his lap as your fingers further trailed up to his mouth.
He was quick to part his lips, taking them in and sucking on your two digits, your head tilting as you noticed how devoted his look was, tongue swirling around your fingers.
“How cute,” you commented, amused with the boy, the same boy who you thought was innocent, however, that wasn’t the case.
All he wanted to do was to please you, and he wanted you to call him yours.
Your other hand rested on his thigh, soon going up and resting on his hard on, causing him to moan around your fingers.
“My needy pup, do you want me to take care of you?” You asked, loving how he reacted to your touch.
As you softly touched him through his sweatpants, he unconsciously jerked his hips forward, suppressing a moan.
“Let me hear it, I need your answer,” you slowed down your actions, causing him to whine.
“Yes! I w—want that so much,” he said out loud, as you took your fingers out of his mouth, wrapping them around his throat.
“Good, now, don’t move, and don’t you dare suppress your pretty noises, am I clear?” you asked for confirmation.
He nodded swiftly as you removed his pants.
His hard member came into view, thick and veiny, begging to be touched. Jay bit back his moans as you teased his tip with your thumb, your fingers wrapping around his length before you bent down to softly swirl your tongue on it, your eyes never leaving his.
“Fuck,” he cursed out loud as you took him in your mouth.
“Good boys don’t use bad language, do they?” You said slapping his dick. Your slender fingers gripped his neck again, this time capturing him in a passionate kiss.
“Y—yes,” he whispered against your lips.
“Open your mouth,” you ordered and he complied, you spat in his mouth, observing how it traveled down his tongue, “swallow it.”
And he did, opening his mouth again to show you the same, causing you to smirk.
“Such a good slut for me.” You kissed him as he whimpered at the degradation coming out of your sweet mouth.
He also whined at the lack of your attention to his cock.
He was needy, and you loved it. You had wanted to take care of him from the very start, seeing the boy in front of you, all naked, you wondered how he’d look full of your lipstick marks, which you’ll leave on his sweet hickeys.
You slowly started stroking his cock again, taking him in your mouth whilst massaging his balls. His breathing got heavier by each second, face red and voice shaky as he took your name sweetly.
Tears stained his rosy cheeks due to the immense pleasure he received, it was unlike ever before, his hands never felt this good, this perfect.
What made it better was the fact that it was you who was touching him, who was making him go crazy.
He liked you so much.
You felt him twitching and you got down to take him in your mouth before saying, “cum in my mouth baby boy,” and he did, moaning your name in the process as you hungrily gulped everything he had to offer.
You got up with a small smile on your face, seeing how he had closed his eyes, lip bitten and his chest heaving up and down.
You softly cupped his face, his eyes opening with your gentle touch.
“How are you feeling?” You asked him with a small smile, thumb caressing his cheek.
“Euphoric,” your laughter bloomed at his answer, a shy smile on his face, “can we do more?” He asked.
Your eyes softened at how vulnerable he looked at the given moment, and you knew if you’d do more, then you’ll probably won’t ever let go of him.
You kissed his forehead, “win that debate with me tomorrow and I’ll give you your victory gift, alright?”
He whined, not wanting to wait till tomorrow, but agreed nevertheless.
“C’mere, let’s get you cleaned up.” You took him to the bathroom, asking him to stay still as you cleaned him up, ensuring that he felt okay and you laughed whenever he felt ticklish at your touch.
“Can we cuddle at least?” He asked before sleeping, he loved being close to you. He had given you most of his firsts without any hesitation, and he was willing to give you even more. You grinned and took him in your arms, you both drifting off to dreamland soon.
Jay’s heartbeat clearly out of control as he only got closer to you, taking in your scent and watching you sleep, softly saying.
“I wanna be yours.”
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The next morning was in a frenzy as you both tried to cramp up last minute information before your awaited debate.
Jay kept shying around after last night, and you had to pull him back and ask him to look into your eyes, making him laugh.
You couldn't help but notice how hot Jay looked in a black blazer, wondering if it was the same guy who begged you to touch him last night.
More importantly, you were also aware of that one girl who kept staring at Jay as you waited for your turn at the big auditorium where the competition was being held.
She was just behind you in the line, meaning, she might be your rival team for the final round, where you had reached with ease, courtesy of Jay.
Not being able to handle her constant stares and shy whispering about Jay, you rolled your eyes as you turned to him, calling out his name.
He turned to look at you, his face looked so innocent it made you want to smile, that’s the exact second you decided to peck him, tips of his ears turning red instantly
“W—what was that for?” He asked wide eyed, checking if someone saw you both.
“Just a good luck kiss for my baby,” you spoke loud enough for the girl to hear. A satisfactory smirk rested on your face as you saw her frown from the corner of your eyes.
Your turn came by soon, you listed out all the cons about the given subtopic with Jay smoothly.
However, you got stuck at the doubt round where the judges had to ask you questions, it was smooth until that one last question came up, which you had no idea how to answer.
You looked at Jay with worried eyes, but he kept his composure, remembering that particular piece of information from that one morning he made extra notes before going to your place, which he answered with full confidence, earning applause from the seated judges, and also you, a proud smile adorned your face.
You were sent back to the waiting area where you gushed about how cool Jay looked while answering with such confidence.
“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to act as if his ears weren’t turning red at your compliment.
“You’ll always be my shy baby,” you gently laughed.
He adorably rested his head on your shoulder as you praised him for being so intelligent while waiting for the result declaration.
“Now, for the most awaited first position, congratulations to ms. L/N and Mr. Park, from the Decelis Academy, Seoul!” The announcer declared.
You hugged him with joy, taking his hands in yours as you went on stage to accept the trophy, your teacher cheering and clicking pictures of you both from the audience seat.
Jay was overjoyed, somewhat because of winning the competition, but mostly for the reward that awaited him tonight. You both hugged again and got your trophy, Ms. Hwang treated you to dinner afterwards, being proud of you both and informing your principal at once.
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Now that you were alone in your hotel room, without any distractions, you could easily see through Jay and how he was trying his best not to mention the reward you had promised you’d give him.
You smirked.
“My baby is so smart, shouldn’t he be rewarded now?” You asked, getting closer to him as he gulped down his nervousness.
“Please,” he breathed out.
“Please what, baby? Use your big words to tell me how you wish to be rewarded?” you encouraged him.
“Please, I want you,” he whimpered.
Your hands wandered around his torso, unbuttoning him one by one just to test his patience. He started helping you unbutton him, but you stopped him grabbing his cheeks.
“Did I give you permission to do anything?” You asked sharply while he shook his head, saying no.
“Be a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded as your lips captured him into a deep kiss, your fingers gripped his hair while he held on to your waist, low hums and grunts were heard as you started grinding on him.
“Fuck me, please!” He cried out loud,
“Undress me,” you ordered.
He shakily took off your white blouse, leaving you in your lace bra, his eyes fixated on your body, and how pretty you looked in lace.
“Can I touch you?” He asked for your permission, you nodded.
He removed the remaining of your clothes and softly trailed his fingers down your body, as if trying to memorize you. Holding his hand, you guided him towards your wet pussy.
“Prep me, baby,” you instructed him as he hesitantly touched your core, spreading your juices in a circular motion.
He observed how you bit down on your lips and closed your eyes. Getting further validation from you, he pushed in a finger, slowly pumping it, he soon added another digit, his fingers curling inside of you sending you into bliss.
You felt your high nearing, “fuck, Jay I want to cum on your cock,” you said switching your positions so that you were straddling him, he cried out loud as your wet cunt came in contact with his throbbing dick.
“Moan louder, babyboy, tell everyone who the winner is tonight,” you said against his lips.
That let him loose, lewd sounds filled up the room.
“Louder,” you encouraged him, finally letting him enter inside you.
Your walls clenched around his thick member, adjusting to his size. You looked at him for permission.
“Please, you can move,” he allowed you.
Without wasting much of a second, you started riding him, your tits bouncing up and down in the process.
Jay couldn’t think straight anymore, his mind was corrupted by you, small dumb mumbles leaving his mouth and he loved how you were being equally soft and rough with him, considering it was his first time.
“Moan louder before I stop,” you threatened him, finally causing him extra stimulation when you clenched around him.
The pleasure was enough for his tears to run free, his cheeks blotchy with red speckles all over, and he moaned, just like you had wanted him to.
“Good boy,” you kept muttering, loving his sweet and needy voice.
“Let me cum, please?” He asked for your permission.
That is when you got off him.
“Not so fast, baby,” you replied with a peck on his lips.
Harsh whimpers left his mouth as you slowly stroked his leaking dick for the next few minutes.
“Please,” he begged after he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick twitching with how close he was.
“Impatient slut,” you slid into him again, your walls contracting around him, it was too much for him to take in.
You fastened your pace, “I’m about to—” he cried.
“Hold it in,” you warned, loved how he closed his eyes shut.
It was so fun teasing him.
You decided to be a bit gentle with him now that he was close, just like you.
“Cum inside me, love,” you encouraged
With a few more bounces, and his thrusts from below, he muttered a string of curses, emptying inside of you as you reached your high just a moment later.
You cupped his cheeks, not getting up but looking deep into his eyes.
“You did so well, I’ll arrange a nice hot bath for you to relax, yeah?” you softly caressed his cheeks.
He weakly nodded, still high from the activities done minutes back. Soon, you helped him into the tub, sitting on his lap as you softly washed his hair for him while he stared at you with stars in his eyes.
“What’s it?” you quietly asked, a small smile on your face.
“Thank you,” he pecked you, this time with adoration, catching you off guard as your heartbeat rose.
“I did nothing,” you smiled at him as he returned it.
You traced his red bruises, applying lotion to them and giving him a massage as well. Jay was thankful to say the least, eyes on your face.
“You’re staring,” you noted.
“You’re pretty,” he said, lowering his eyes as he did so.
“God, you’re so cute.” You kissed him softly, a shy smile gracing his face as you wrapped him in a towel.
“Come on, let’s sleep,” you patted the space near you.
“Can we cuddle?” he excitedly asked and you brightly nodded, taking him into your arms.
The room was silent, however, it felt comfortable, especially when you could feel Jay’s warmth in your arms.
“Y/N?” He called out your name.
You hummed, “yeah?”
“What are we?” he asked as he sat up to look at you.
“What do you mean?” you asked, also sitting up.
“I—what’s our relationship?” he gulped as he asked that, not sounding too confident, wondering if he’d be rejected.
“What do you want us to be?” you questioned, raising your brows.
Being with Jay was like a rollercoaster, you had grown a liking to him, more than you would like to admit.
His demure ways made you adore him, but he never hesitated to put a brave front for you and those cute efforts of his made you fall for him even more.
“I want us to be more than just friends,” he admitted.
You had bewitched Jay since the day you first talked to him, and the feeling only grew. He looked forward to spending time with you and soon it turned into yearning. He wanted to hold you in his arms and call you his, not wanting to share you with anyone else (ahem, Sunghoon), the phase might have been of only two months, but that was enough for him to fall for you.
“What’s more than friends?” you teased.
He pouted without even trying to, wondering if you were trying to ignore the topic because you didn’t want him, but seeing his expression, you frowned.
“Be my boyfriend,” you suddenly blurted out, not regretting it after.
Jay’s eyes widened comically, “w—what?”
You took a deep breath and laughed lightly, “Jay, baby, you’re so precious to me. Fuck! I like you so much, please be mine?” you expectantly stared at him.
His lips turned upwards and into the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face as he leaned forward and kissed you wordlessly, conveying his answer through it.
The kiss was deep and meaningful, “yes! yes, yes!” he squealed as you kissed him again.
“Hey, boyfriend,” you smiled.
“Hey, girlfriend,” he spoke with confidence, melting your heart as you pulled him down and into a hug which soon turned into a cuddling session.
Both of you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, your arms holding him tight.
Even after the competition, he couldn’t help but miss you every second of his day, texting you constantly, calling you at night just to stare at you during the two day holidays you had gotten.
The next time you met was after the competition was three days later at the school.
Jay saw Sunghoon approaching you, but he was faster as he stood in front of you, causing your eyes to widen at his sudden entry.
“Hi, baby,” he cooly said before placing a kiss on your lips.
You laughed at his childish behaviour as you see Sunghoon fuming from a distance.
“Getting protective, are we now?” you raised your eyebrow.
“You’re mine,” he tried to sound authoritative, but his voice came out in a whine.
“I’m yours,” you laughed, kissing him softly.
Safe to say, Sunghoon left after the little show Jay had put up and soon, the whole school knew about you two dating, half of them crying about how wrong the pairing is, you couldn’t care less though.
Jay was everything you needed and more, and you were going to cherish him for the rest of your life.
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ma1dita · 2 months
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solipsism
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.1k
summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)
The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)
(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )
solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)
You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 
“Holy shit, you scared me!” 
There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.
“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.
“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”
You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.
“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”
Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.
“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.
“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”
To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.
“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”
“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”
These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.
“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.
i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)
Flick. Flick.
“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.
Breathe in.
It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.
“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”
Breathe out.
“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 
Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.
“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”
You’ve always been able to see right through him.
He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 
This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.
“I can, if you want me to.” 
He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.
“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.
“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.
“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”
He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.
Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.
“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”
“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.
Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.
“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.
“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”
You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.
You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.
ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)
Knock, knock.
There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.
“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.
The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”
“Who’s Kit?”
Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.
“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”
He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.
“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”
Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.
“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.
“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 
Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”
There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.
“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”
His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.
“A few months ahead.”
There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”
You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.
“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”
You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.
“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”
And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.
“What happens next?”
Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.
“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.
“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.
“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.
“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”
It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.
Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.
“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”
When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.
“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.
Knock, knock.
Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.
iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)
Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 
Clack, clack.
The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 
“What are you doing out here alone?”
You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”
He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.
“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.
“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.
“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 
He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 
Clack, clack.
Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.
“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 
You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.
iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 
It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 
The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.
Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 
Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.
So, what are your future plans? 
Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 
Gods. 
How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 
Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?
A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.
“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.
“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.
“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”
Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.
You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.
Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”
“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”
A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”
You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.
“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”
He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.
“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.
“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”
“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.
“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”
“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.
“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”
Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.
The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.
“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”
He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.
“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.
“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”
It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 
“Just someone I used to know.”
“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)
1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
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dweebfics · 2 months
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I’ll Take Care of You…
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Alastor x Reader
Warning: Praise Kink, Masturbation, Bathroom Sex… I believe this is everything 😅 if I miss something, let me know!
MDNI‼️18+
Reader’s P.O.V
You just arrived home from an exhausting day from work. You quickly open the door to your and Alastor’s shared home, placing your keys and bags to the side and closing the door behind you.
“I’m home!” You yelled out while taking off your shoes, quickly Alastor appears in front of you.
“Welcome home my dear” He says in his cheerful, radio static fill voice.
“Hello honey, how are you doing today?” I asked as I pass by him.
“I’m doing quite alright, you on the other hand look terrible.” Alastor said following behind you.
“Geez, thanks Al.” I said as I took a seat on a near by couch.
“You’re not too far off, today was super busy at work. One of the girls didn’t go in and I had to do my job and hers so we wouldn’t be backed up.” I explained as I looked up to an attentive Alastor.
Alastor without saying anything grabs me by the arm and makes me get up.
“Al? What’s up?” I asked not knowing what he had in mind.
“Come my dear, I’ll help you feel better” He said making me blush at that sudden remark, not knowing what he meant by that. Alastor was dragging me to our shared bedroom and sat me down without saying a word. I noticed he made his way to our bathroom and I knew what he meant by “help you feel better”. A little sign of relief comes out of me.
“Come my dear, it is ready for you” Alastor said opening the door and extending his hand to you for you to grab. I quickly got up and walked towards him. Once I walked inside, he had prepared me a little bubble bath for me to sit in.
“Awe Al… This is so cute. Thank you for your gesture” I said turning to look at him, Alastor simple nodded as his smile grew.
“Now go ahead and get undressed and enjoy your bath, I’ll go ahead and grab a book to read as I accompany you.” He said turning around, making you open your eyes wide in realization.
(Al is going to watch you take a bath?) You thought to yourself. You looked back and noticed he had left the bathroom already and you quickly took off your clothes and stepped inside the warmth water. You grabbed your hair and made it into a little bun so it doesn’t touch the water, then you lean your head back to rest it on the neatly folded towel Alastor had placed for you to rest.
“Ah good, you already look like you are enjoying yourself” Alastor said making you open your eyes and look at him take a seat next to you near the tub. I placed my arms crossed on the edge of the tub and placed my head there, looking up to Alastor.
“Thank you again for this, such a sweet gesture” I said and it made him chuckle.
“Why of course my dearest, anything for you. Now enjoy” He said going back to his book. I leaned back to the folded towel and started to slowly work on my arms to lather soap on them. Then I felt so heavy to even continue, my eye lids were starting to close by themselves.
“Hmm” I heard Alastor say and then his chair moved, this made me open my eyes. When my vision wasn’t blurry anymore I noticed Alastor was taking his coat and bowtie off and placing it to the side, he then turns around and starts to unbutton his shirt walking towards me. I looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I’ll help you with your bath, you’re falling asleep my doe” Alastor said taking off his button shirt completely and he started to take the rest off, out of respect I turned around and didn’t look at his bare body, even though I really wanted to. Suddenly I hear his voice behind me.
“Excuse me dear, I’m going to join you now.” He said, I instantly moved a bit more to the front to give him space to join me in the bathtub. I felt the water move slightly and then I felt the skin on skin contact of our legs together. Alastor then grabs me by the shoulders and brings me back to make me rest against his chest. I am currently stiff against him, I have never imagined doing this with Alastor.
“Relax my dear, I’ll take care for you” Alastor said as he grabbed the luffa and lather my back and shoulder with soap. He was going in circle against my skin, really making me melt my stress away. I leaned my head against his shoulder as he kept going to different parts of my body to cover with soap, I softly let go of a breathy moan. I was feeling too good.
“My~ you’re quite enjoying this aren’t you?” Alastor’s voice made me come back from the daydream I was going into.
“S-sorry, it felt very good actually.” I said as I got up again and tried to shift a little on my sitting when suddenly I felt something poke me in my back. I looked back to look Alastor to the eye.
“Al?” I asked.
“Sorry my dear, I couldn’t help myself. I have quite an exquisite view in front of me.” He said as he let go of the luffa, he placed his hands on my forearm, making me come back to my position of laying against his chest.
“Like I said my sweet doe, relax for me” Alastor’s arms go around me and grabs hold of my breasts. His fingers quickly started to play with my perked up nipples, making me bite down a moan. As Alastor played with my breast, his mouth was on my neck leaving me kisses and small bites.
“A-al…” Is all I could get out, I felt Alastor grin against my skin.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” I asked smiling back to him.
“Oh! I really am my dear. Now, don’t hold back and let me hear you” Alastor finished saying and quickly dipped one of his hands on to my core first paying attention to my clit. I instantly released a moan at the sudden touch in my area, his other hand still on my breast. This feeling was so much, it felt so good. Suddenly, Alastor moved from my clit to my inner core and dipped one finger inside me.
“Al! Aah~” My hips were moving by themselves with his movements. Alastor chuckled against my ear and started to whisper.
“That’s right my sweet doe, be loud for me” Alastor said inserting a second finger, he was pumping in so deeply and curling his finger right at that sweet spot making me moan out loud. I could feel his twitching member against my back. I reach behind me to grab the back of his neck to hold on to him and bring him closer to me to pull him in for a kiss, Alastor moaned into the kiss and his pumping got faster. Suddenly, he broke the kiss and took out his fingers, making me clench on nothing so pathetically needy. Alastor without any words softly pushed me off his chest and placed both his hands on my hips. I felt the water of the tub move slightly as he got closer and said in a very low and seductive tone.
“Jump for me darling~” Without any questioning, I raised myself a bit and with Alastor’s firm hold still on my hips he guided me. I grabbed his cock and lined it up with my core, ever so slowly I lowered myself onto him, feeling that delicious stretch. Alastor groan throwing his head back, slightly making his hold more harsher against my skin. I started to move slowly up and down, the water inside the tub following my motion. I grabbed hold of the edges of the tub for assistance since we were in such a cramped up place, but anything for my Alastor… anything he wishes.
I noticed Alastor was humping up, trying to meet my hip movements. I suddenly and harshly bottomed out on him making his deer like ears move back and making him bite his bottom lip with his sharp teeth.
I started to move my hips in circular motion against him, making Alastor release a whimper.
“Such a good little doe… Nngh~ my pretty little girl” Alastor was saying to me praise after praise and it was driving me wild. I proceeded to make my jumps a bit more faster, the water in the tub making splashes and making a mess of the bathroom floor. Alastor went up from my back to my neck to my hair and holds on to it tightly making me arch my back and make my jumps more sharper and smaller.
“That’s it darling~ Are you going to cum?” Alastor asked. I nodded as I kept jumping for my high. Alastor slightly pulls on my hair making me go a bit more back.
“Use that pretty little mouth of yours and speak” He said, that last part with a bit of radio static to it.
“Y-yes..” I was able to get out.
“Good, good. Now how about you ask me nicely and I’ll let you come? Hmm?” Alastor said pumping up to my hips, I could feel my knot in my lower belly about to burst. I was not even able to form coherent words to answer him, until I noticed he started to slow down and hold me in place.
“YES! Y-yes ok ok” I said frantically.
“Hmm? What was that darling? I didn’t hear you ask..” Alastor said with a smug grin on his face.
“Please… Please Alastor.. let me cum please”
“Hmm, well since you asked so nicely” With no hesitation, Alastor grabs me by the hips and aggressively started to move me up and down, my eyes started to roll back and the sudden and harsh movements. Alastor was starting to groan and huff out moans as his thrust were getting sloppy.
Then with a final thrust I felt my pussy tighten around him as I felt his seeds covering my insides. Alastor pulls me and lays my back again his chest, we were both panting and catching our breaths.
“My, we left quite a mess” Alastor said stroaking pieces of hair off my face.
“At least we had fun doing said mess” I said reaching up with my hand and softly stroking his cheek, Alastor leaned against my touch.
“Yes my dear, that we did” Alastor said showing me his signature smile.
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slut4thebroken · 2 months
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Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator hcs
Tommy Shelby, Cillian Murphy, Raymond Leon, Jackson Rippner, Lenny Miller
(All accurate to the universe’s time period)
Tommy Shelby - To say he was shocked would be an understatement. At first he was concerned— were you suffering from hysteria and he didn’t even know? But then he remembered that vibrators have very recently started being used for more… personal activities. He confronted you about it anyway though. You blushed and stuttered out “I- I can explain..” and he found it amusing at first, but he kept his expression stern. It was when you broke down crying that he suddenly softened. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t be mad..” You cried out, making him pull you into a hug and shush you, trying to calm you down. “I’m not mad, love.” He said gently. “Just… tell me what it’s for.. I promise I won’t be mad.” You looked up at him with wide, teary eyes to see if he was being truthful. When you found no sign of a lie, you whispered that you use it for self pleasure, which he already knew. He just wanted to hear you say it. He sighed and shook his head. “You think you’re old enough to be playing with adult toys like this?” He asked, and you muttered out an excuse of how you just turned 18. “Maybe so, but I still don’t think it’s appropriate at your age.” That triggered something inside of you and you whined about how you’re an adult and you can do what you want, acting far too bratty for his liking. “Is that so? An adult, are you?” He had a condescending smirk on his lips and he pretended to think it over, then scoffed a laugh. “Fine then. If you’re an adult I guess I should start punishing you like one.” His tone was noticeably darker now. “Get on the fucking bed.”
Cillian Murphy - He knew he should’ve ignored it, respected your privacy… But he just kept thinking about you using it. The pretty sounds you probably made, the way your cheeks probably became flushed… But then he started thinking about you using it with someone.. Did you have a secret boyfriend? Or were you exploring your sexuality all on your own… Deciding to do the responsible thing, he started planning out when and how to talk to you about all of these new things you may be feeling as a developing young woman. One day he sat down with you, gently told you what he knew and reassured you when you immediately became embarrassed. He told you that it was natural and nothing to be ashamed of… “A young girl like yourself needs someone to guide her, teach her what’s right and how to be safe.” He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “As your father, I’m afraid that role falls on me.” He tried not to seem too excited by the idea. Standing up, he walked over to where the toy was hidden and brought it back over to the bed, handing it to you. “I need to make sure you’re using it the right way. I’d hate for my little girl to get hurt.” He frowned, watching as your eyes widened. He didn’t let you protest as he helped removed your clothes and laid you down on the bed. “Now show me exactly how you’re using it, sweetheart.”
Raymond Leon - At first, he almost mistook it for something else, but when he did a double take, he realized what it actually was. A rush of emotions hit him, the main ones being anger, disappointment, and arousal. Were you turning into a whore? Did he do something wrong when raising you? When you came home one day, he was waiting on your bed, the vibrator next to him. You were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment and humiliation- good. You started trying to defend yourself, saying it’s not what it looks like. “Don’t try to play innocent.” He scoffed. “Get over my fucking lap.” His voice was so harsh, it made you tear up as you begged him not to. So he roughly grabbed you and pulled you over his thighs, then flipped your skirt up. He spanked you until his hand was burning and there were little welts on your ass. You were sobbing loudly, the pain becoming too much, and with the way you kept squirming and rubbing against his cock, he eventually got hard. He forced the vibrator between your legs, making you apologize for your whorish behavior as you came over and over again until he was satisfied. “Get on your knees.” He demanded and you slid off his lap to the floor, still sobbing and almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. “There are consequences for acting like a whore.” He spat, quickly opening his pants to free his cock, making your breath catch in your throat. “So, be a good girl for once and finish what you started.”
Jackson Rippner - He had been trying so hard to be a good father figure- god knows you desperately needed it. But as soon as he found a vibrator hidden away (very poorly) in one of your drawers, he just lost all control. He managed to wait a few days until it was only the two of you in the house, then confronted you. This wasn’t his proudest moment… but he didn’t regret it. “What would your mom think, huh?” He asked, subtly threatening you. “I would hate to have to tell her… but maybe we can work something out.” He said coyly, enjoying the way you blushed and squirmed and pouted. He made you beg for it, for his cock and for him to not tell your mom. Once he had you underneath him with his cock fully sheathed in your little cunt, he practically plowed into you until you cried. “This is your own fault.” He hissed. “The only reason this is happening is because you teased me by leaving it somewhere for me to find.” You sobbed harder and shook your head, unable to do anything else to protest. “You’ve been a fucking tease since day one with those tiny little shirts and the skirts that barely cover your ass… I’m fucking sick of it.” He growled, getting more worked up. “From now on, you’re gonna let me use this cunt whenever I want, or I’ll tell your mom about your little secret, and how you seduced me and begged me to fuck you.”
Lenny Miller - You should’ve known better than to think you could hide things from him. Just like you should’ve known better than to think you could lie to him. But when he confronted you, you denied it. Which he figured you might do… That’s why he set up a camera in your room, hidden in a vent but angled perfectly at your bed. The quality was not the best, but it was good enough to still obviously show what you were doing. He can’t even count the amount of times he came to that footage of you. When you tried lying, he sighed and reached for the remote, already having the tape ready in the tv. The second it turned on, you lips parted in shock and your face paled, then a very dark blush took over your cheeks. “There are a few different ways this can go. Option one: the camera stays up and you can keep the vibrator. Option two: I punish you, then confiscate it, but I’ll take down the camera.” He paused, lowering his voice into something darker and thick with arousal. “Or option three: you show me just how sorry you are for owning something like this. I’m still going to punish you, but if you do a good enough job begging, I might just let you keep it.” He said coyly. He waited impatiently for you to choose and when you couldn’t get any words out, still glancing at the tv, he chose for you. He spanked you until you cried and made you suck his cock to prove you were sorry, then forced you to ride him while you begged for his forgiveness.
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lesservillain · 2 months
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inmate!eddie munson x teacher!reader
cw: drinking, explicit fantasies
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September 16th,1994 
The idea to you was asinine from the moment Principal Williams brought you into her office to explain the program details to you. How no one else thought that the idea of thirteen-year-olds becoming “pen pals” with prisoners wasn’t insane baffled you. It was dangerous at worst and inappropriate at best, but,  despite your best efforts to reason with her, your opinion as a “newer” teacher was dismissed. 
Now here you are listening to the speech of the prison rep, Mr. Bridges, as he explained the program to your 7th grade class. Not like you had a lesson planned for them today.
Mr. Bridges stands a whole 5 feet and 6 inches with a short stack military fade and the most unsettling sunny disposition. He reads as incredibly fake, like a snake oil salesman, and his shiny, white, slightly too big for his mouth veneers not doing him any favors. It doesn’t surprise you that your newly divorced principal was able to be persuaded by this guy's charms, but thankfully you’re used to his kind of tactics from your own previous relationship. 
Before leaving, Mr.Bridges approaches you at your desk. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he starts, leaning too far into your space. One of his thick fingers points at a paper he had given you before he started his speech, “but is a student absent today? We have an unassigned inmate—”
“We had a student move,” you say shortly, keeping your voice monotone and not bothering to glance at his paper, “so I’m short one student in this class.”
Bridges nodded, clearly deep in thought. His brows furrowed for a moment before perking up. 
“Maybe you’d like to take on a pen pal?’” He proposes, his chipper disposition coxing on the migraine that wants to break through behind your eye.
The look on your face must have said it all as he tried to convince you further. “The inmates that signed up are all trying to better themselves before being re-released into society, ya’know?” His eye’s shift, landing on the floor with a solemn look. “We thought talking to kids that grew up while they were incarcerated would help them get in touch with the times, be able to cope with time they’ve lost. Give them something to look forward to when they get out.” 
The pads of your fingers dig into your temples, eyes rolling to the back of your head before finally giving him the eye contact he so desperately craved from you. 
“Fine, I’ll take whoever you have left, I guess. What’s his name?”
“Perfect!” Bridges hands clap together next to your ear, “The leftover inmate wants to go by The Banished One and he—”
“Banished what?” You ask, confused.
“Oh, The Banished One! It’s his nickname for the project. We have all the inmates disguise their names just in case the kids may be related to one of them.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, resting your head in your hand, “Okay, fine, sure I guess that makes sense.” 
 Bridges continued to assure you that all the letters are anonymous and would be vetted both ways, adding that only ‘good behavior’ inmates were allowed to take part in the program as a last push for your participation, you reluctantly agreed. Mostly just to get him to leave your classroom before your head explodes, but not without the stipulation that if you thought it was too much for your kids that you would pull them out. That seemed to be enough to satisfy him.  
October 7th, 1994 
The first writing session took place on a Friday, the soft sound of music from your mixtape playing for the kids to help them relax. It had been a long week of testing and you felt like an easy day was in order for both you and the kids, most of your other classes would just be doing free work. 
You grabbed the stack of letters from your desk, Pictures of You by The Cure filling the air as you hand each student their respective letter. 
“Don’t forget to keep personal information like names and where you live out of your letters. Once you’re done, bring them to my desk.”  
Once the kids were settled, you returned to your desk and grabbed your own letter. The envelope before you had “Teach” written across the front, the pen name you chose to go by. The handwriting was like chicken scratch. Not much different from the 13 year old boys whose papers you grade, though, so you were confident in your ability to decipher the rest of the letter. But still had a roughness, an edge to it.  
As you opened your letter, unfolding the paper to it’s full state, the first thing to catch your attention was the graffiti like drawings along the margins of the paper. It reminded you of a flash sheet at the tattoo shop your friends took you to for your 21st birthday, a permanent reminder of that day on your inner ankle in the form of a small butterfly that was already starting to fade. There was nothing too offensive; a rose, a sailor ship, a dove with an olive branch, all impressively done for just being pen on paper. 
Once you got past the artwork, you began to take in the letter's contents. The single page was filled from front to back, barely any room for the signature at the bottom.
“Hey there, “Teach”... if that is your real name…” the letter starts. The lame opener makes you crack a small smile that you quickly cover with your hand. You read on, taking in each sentence, and you start to get the idea that your pen pal doesn’t take this pen pal assignment too seriously. 
The letter is casual, a few puns here and there, with some Tolkien references that would have been missed if one wasn’t familiar with his work. It’s clear that this person is young, or at least young at heart, which saddens you to think about, but you try not to dwell on it. 
Getting into the meat of the letter, your pal explains that went to prison in 1989 for drug related charges, but is set to get out in about a year if he keeps up his good behavior.
 “I’m ready to get out of this place and get back to my hometown in Hawkins.” 
A shiver goes down your spine for a moment when you read that he’s from Hawkins. Bridges assured you that the inmates wouldn’t know what school the kids would be from, but you weren’t expecting to be talking to someone from this small town. You wonder if Bridges knows more than he’s letting on with his comment about the kids being related to the inmates.
Once the creepy feeling dissipates you continue to read on. The details your pal gives about himself tell you that he’s very different from the people you usually hang out with. His favorite genre of music is metal and he used to play guitar and do vocals for a band every week before he started working as a mechanic full time. They’d have a crowd of 20 or so some nights, but it was usually just the regulars at the place they would play at. 
The final paragraph of the letter consists of a seemingly scripted warning about the dangers of drugs and that no one should make the same mistake he did. You wondered if this was obligatory for the project. At the bottom of the page your pal signs with his chosen moniker “The Banished One.” When thinking about it, you find that it’s very fitting for an inmate.  
After taking a moment to check in on your class, Morrissey’s somber voice serenading them as  “I Know It’s Over” plays from the small radio’s speakers, you pull out your own pen and paper to start your response.
 As you ponder on where to start, a thought that crosses your mind; does your pen pal even know they’re talking to an adult? The pen name you chose might be on the nose but you didn’t want to assume. Granted, your handwriting itself may be a dead giveaway if you were to compare it to a teens.  
It took you a couple of tries to start your letter. Instinctively, you wanted to be formal, but the longer you thought about it the more you didn’t want to come off as a boring writing companion. You tried and failed to come up with something witty to match the vibe of your pal, but comedy wasn’t your strong point, though you’d argue that it wasn’t his either. Instead, you approached it as if you were writing to a friend.  
“Hello! Nice to meet you “Banished One." Though, it sounds like you won't be banished much longer.” 
Erring on the side of caution you chose to only respond directly to things he wrote, slipping in that you also enjoyed the works of Tolkien with your own reference. You mention that you listen to metal from time to time, more into radio rock at the moment, but you’d really listen to anything.
 It took you a minute to calculate how to respond to the reveal of his dealings in drugs, ultimately deciding to lightly say that you hoped he learned his lesson unless he saw himself returning to prison in the future. You shared that you were familiar with Hawkins, noting that you loved the milkshakes from the old diner in town, but left it at that. As you closed the letter you complimented his artwork, informing him that the rose was your favorite and that you looked forward to seeing his artwork on future letters.
You’d manage to write enough to cover the majority of the back of your lined paper, signing your pen name a few lines away from the bottom. Going over your letter again, you can't help feeling like it’s a bit dull. Safe, but that’s what it's supposed to be.
October 24th,1994 
It only took two weeks for Mr. Bridges to return with new letters for your class. Truthfully, you had almost forgotten about the letters entirely while trying to keep your students on track as the holiday season approaches. The emotional whiplash of seeing your ex out with his new, younger girlfriend while you were out looking for Halloween decor for your apartment wasn't helping either. It felt like no matter what you did, how much your friends tried to help, you just couldn’t catch a break. At least the manager of the local liquor store was nice to you. 
When your students seemed too preoccupied with the stack of letters on your desk to pay attention to your lecture, you decided to call it a day and give all of you a break. You click on your small stereo and let the tune of Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah take over the room while you pass out letters. 
Once the letters were distributed, you settled at your desk where your eyes met with the same chicken scratch handwriting as before. It was tempting to reach for it… until you glanced at the pile of ungraded papers that sat next to it, taunting you. You desperately needed to go over them, the deadline to turn in grades fast approaching.
You deliberated on what to do. You had to admit you were curious about the letter. Part of you wondered if you’d even get one back. You didn’t want to give any personal information away, so you couldn’t blame the random man in prison for not responding if he thought he was talking to an old lady teacher. 
But the stack of papers is practically glaring at you.
A thought; you could always finish your papers later at home. But you did tell yourself you would be better at bringing so much work home with you this year…Your friends had an influence on that decision, making sure you took at least every other weekend to go out and do something — anything to keep you from shutting yourself in again. 
With a sigh, you tuck the letter into your work bag, grabbing your pen to start grading.
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“Damn it, why can’t I find one stupid pen!” 
Slamming drawers and stomping around, the red liquid of your cup sloshing around in your glass as you grew more and more frustrated in your search for a pen to write out the checks for the coming month’s bills. 
After searching the kitchen, you make your way to the living room and spot your school bag on the coffee table. In your rage, you slam the glass on the table and begin haphazardly pulling the contents out of the bag, praying you still had a pen that hadn’t been “borrowed” to never be returned by one of your students. 
The feeling of plastic on the tips of your finger almost brought you to tears of joy. Pulling out a purple ink pen you decided that it would have to be good enough if your landlord wanted your rent on time. 
After finishing with the checks, you return to your bag to put the envelopes inside to drop off tomorrow at the post office. As you lift the bag, your eyes meet with chicken scratch again away. A burst of buzzed excitement runs through you at the sight, even if for just a moment before you shook it off. It was just an envelope from some random man sitting in a jail cell, why are you getting so excited? Is it because you’re at home and not feeling the pressure to be uptight and rigid? 
Or maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you received a letter that wasn’t a bill. It sort of gave you a feeling of nostalgia, taking you back to a time when you wrote letters to your mom when you were at camp, or when you would write to your grandparents around the holidays. It even reminded you a bit of writing in your diary, if your diary could write back that is. It’s not like he would have room to judge you from his jail cell, right?
You snatch the letter from the bag and walk back into the kitchen, grabbing the dark bottle of wine to refill your glass and plopping down at the table. Ripping open the envelope, you pull out the letter and immediately notice that it is covered in artwork just as the last one was.
This time you notice a 20-sided dice with a banner that read “critical hit”, a very detailed dragon head, and a stylized version of the skeleton guy that you’ve seen on the cover of Iron Maiden albums. The biggest piece was of another rose, but in the fully bloomed center was an eye. It was…interesting. Well done, but not what you were expecting. Not that you were expecting anything anyway.  
Getting the artwork out of the way, you take a large sip of your drink and begin reading.
“Hello again, Teach,” the letter starts, “I think we need to discuss the elephant in the room before I can write anything else.” Your brow quirks up, a slight nervousness begins to creep in your mind. 
“I was already suspicious when I was told the person I was writing to wanted to go by Teach. And no seventh grader I’ve ever known can write as nicely as you. Not that I know a lot of seventh graders...Anyway, can I ask how I ended up being pen pals with the class teacher? I know I could ask Bridges, but I think it would be more fun to hear it from you.” 
Your lips tug into a smile, but this time you don’t feel the need to cover it. Why did it feel like a game he won or a riddle he solved? It wasn’t exactly like you were hiding it. But something about him figuring out something about you was…exciting.
As you get into the meat of the letter itself he goes on to ask you what subject you teach and how long you have been teaching. He asks if you like working with kids and if they ever made you want to pull your hair out. The phrasing of his words make you giggle. 
“I was never good in school,” he states. “It took me three tries of my senior year to graduate. I used to blame my teachers saying that they didn’t like the way I dressed or my taste in music. I guess now I have to admit that it was probably because I didn’t bother to show up to class or do any of my homework…” 
A full laugh shook you in your chair. Was he actually funnier in this letter? And why did it come off feeling so personal? The air about it was different, like you were talking to a long-distance friend rather than a felon, your cheeks starting to ache from smiling as you continue read his sketchy handwriting.
He went on to ask more about you, like what your favorite band was since you “liked rock so much more than metal,” with a little frowny face to punctuate his disagreement. He says the prison lets them watch MTV sometimes, which has been his main exposure to new music. Sometimes he gets a hold of new music every once and a while, but usually just listens to his old cassettes on his Walkman that his uncle gave him when he first entered the system.
“Some people have tried to steal it from me, but they learned pretty quickly that I have my ways to get things back, and that I'm not one to be messed with.”
That left you curious. A small glimpse into the inner workings of prison. You never really thought about what a person in prison could or couldn’t have. It was nice that he could have at least a small luxury, an item of value if it was under constant threat of being taken. You also couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by not being messed with.
Before you know it you’ve hit the end of the letter. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It felt like there could have been so much more to say, but his pen name barely fit at the bottom of the paper as it is. You take a piece of paper out of your notebook, pulling the frayed pieces off the edge and replacing the one in front of you with it.  Hopefully your pal won't mind the purple pen or the probable lack of coherence compared to your first letter as you feel the wine really start to kick in.
Referring back to the paper like a student answering a question in class, you make sure to answer all of his questions to the best of your ability.  
“Hello again, Mr. Banished. I see you have uncovered my secret that I am, in fact, a grown woman and not a 13-year-old. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I have been teaching English since I graduated college, coincidentally in 1989. It's like we traded places; I got to leave the prison of being a student in college and you went to prison for whatever drug related charges you acquired.” You laughed at your own joke as you continued. 
“As for why you are stuck with writing a late 20’s school teacher rather than one of my students, that would be because of the aforementioned Mr.Bridges. We had a student move a few weeks into the school year and Bridges practically got on his knees and begged me to take on a pen pal.” You left out the detail of not being totally comfortable with the program. Not that you weren’t still hesitant, but the last thing you wanted to do was offend him by insinuating anything about the type of person he was for being in jail. The wine had rationalized with you that sometimes good people do bad things when they’re in dark places.
Continuing on, you wrote that he was probably right in both his opinions on why his teachers failed him. The older teachers at your school were stuck in their ways and judged students before really trying to help them. You did your best not to be the same way, hoping to be a teacher that your students could trust and come to if they needed help. It was a passion of yours since you were small, wanting to help people learn and grow, so what better way to do that than to teach?
“I am interested in what you wore that would call for such harsh judgment. I try to be as unbiased as I can with all my kids. If you asked them, they would say that I’m stuffy or rigid most of the time, but it’s mostly because I care about their education. And partly because being a new teacher is…really freaking tough if I’m being honest. These older teachers don’t take half of the things I say seriously because their own kids are older than me. It’s kind of bullshit, actually, but I just deal with it until I can get more experience under my belt.” 
A sigh slips through your lips, pen tapping against the kitchen table as you feel the frustration bubbling. It’s not fair to dump these feelings on him, but the anonymity made it so easy to just put everything out there. He doesn’t know anything about you, and if you were to weird him out by getting a little real, then he could just not write back, right? 
After taking a moment to collect yourself, you decided to just move on to a different topic. 
“Sorry, that was a lot of feelings on my part. Is it too personal to ask what you do in prison? You mentioned getting to listen to music, but what else do you do? I’ve seen in movies that inmates work out a lot and play basketball outside. Is that real or made up for the audience? If it is real, does that mean you are super buff from working out all the time? Do you beat people up if they try and take your Walkman, or do you stab them? I’ve seen people do that in movies, too. I hope you don’t stab them, that would be scary.” 
You can feel yourself getting a bit rambley in your tired state, so you decide it’s time to call it a night. You wrap up the letter by telling him that you’re going to go to sleep and that you were looking forward to his next letter. You sign your name and draw a small doodle of a flower next to it.
November 18th,1994
It was 3 am when you woke up the first time. A nightmare had you shooting up from your pillow, cold sweat drenched the collar of your sleep shirt, chest heaving as you caught your breath. 
He had been knocking at your door, your pen pal. You never saw his face, but heard the anger in his voice as he yelled for you to let him in. You remember sitting in front of the door begging for him to leave you alone, telling him it was too soon. That you weren’t ready.  
The nightmare became reoccurring, waking you at least 2 or 3 times a week. Sometimes it’s your ex, but most of the time it’s your pen pal. Even though you have no inkling of what he looks like, you just know it’s him on the other side.
The disturbance in your sleep was starting to affect your daily life, one of your coworkers asking if you were okay after over pouring a cup of coffee in the teacher’s lounge.
“Are you okay?” Mr.Clarke asks, helping you mop up the spilled coffee with some paper towels.
“Yes, I’m sorry, yeah,” you say, trying and failing to reassure him.
“Hey, I know that midterms can be rough with the holidays coming up. But, try not to stress out about it too much. I’ve heard good things about you from the kids in my classes that have you this year. You’re doing a good job, so don't kill yourself, okay?”
It was damn near impossible not to burst into tears at your coworkers words, but you held it together until you could hide in the faculty restroom.
The dreams didn’t stop though. Even Mr.Bridges felt the need to comment.
  “Holidays stressing you out?” he asked with an energy that seemed inhuman to you, his sunny disposition could make the snow outside melt.
“No.” You stated shortly as you looked through your lesson plan for the day.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said with a nod, “This is the most wonderful time of the year after all. We try to stay busy at the prison, keep the morale high and what not.” 
He placed the stack of letters on your desk, along with a small box that read “Greeting Cards” with a wintery scene displayed on the front. 
“These are for the students to give to the inmates.” You look at him with “no shit” written on your face. He cleared his throat, “But, uh, I’m sure you could figure that out. I know this time of year can be hectic for everyone, but we all deserve some holiday cheer, right?” Your expression remains unchanged as he continues on.
“Right, well, I’ll be giving the inmates their own cards to send to the kids with their letters. It might be a bit difficult for me to come back before Christmas, family affairs to attend to and all that. So, I went ahead and wrote the address and stamped the envelopes for the cards. If I don’t come back by, oh, let's say the 15th? Just go ahead and stick those in the mail and I’ll make sure the inmates get them!” 
Before you could protest having to go out of your way to do his job, Mr.Bridges quickly made his exit as the warning bell rang, wishing you a happy holiday as he disappeared. 
With the lack of free class time as you all crammed for test week, you decided to let the kids take their letters and cards home for the weekend to work on. As you passed them out, keeping the addressed envelopes in the box, you told the kids to write something nice in their cards. 
“This may be the only card some of these men get, so think about that when you’re writing them this weekend.”
Getting to the last letter, you feel your stomach twist as you read your actual government first name in the familiar chicken scratch handwriting instead of your pen name. You hadn’t even realized that you had stopped dead in your tracks until the sound of the bell brought you back to your body. 
“U-uh, ge--get your letters done by the end of class Tuesday!” You yell over your class as they begin migrating out of the room.
Quickly, you return to your desk and rip open the letter. Unsurprisingly, it’s once again covered in artwork. The pumpkins and bats and other Halloween inspired art felt out of place, putting in perspective how long it had been since your last letter. But before you could look much further into the writing your next class began to file in, forcing you to set the letter aside for later. 
You’d felt nauseous the rest of your morning classes, You wracked your brain about how the hell your pen pal could have figured out your actual name. You may have been...a little tipsy when you wrote that letter a month ago, but you’re sure you didn’t say anything personal enough that he would know who you were. Could he have asked someone on the outside to look into you? No, Mr.Bridges assured you that the inmates don’t know what school they are writing to. Maybe Bridges said your name to someone at the jail and the inmate overheard?  
As soon as the bell rang for your lunch period, you practically rushed your students out the door and closed it. Throwing yourself into your chair, you grab the letter and begin reading. 
“Well, well, I wasn’t expecting to be getting more lore in your newest letter! You have a very cute name by the way…Sorry I hope that wasn’t weird. Anyway! I guess I can tell you my name, too. Call me Eddie.”
  Eddie. 
So you had included your own name in your letter somewhere. You sigh with relief, though it still makes you a little uncomfortable that this stranger knows something personal about you. Sure he’s been nice, but he was still a felon. Though knowing his name made you feel a little better. Made him feel a tad more human to not use silly nicknames.
“Can I start by saying I loved reading your last letter?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise.“The purple pen was a nice touch. Something about a teacher complaining about other teachers is really funny to me, too. Nice to know the torment of some teachers isn’t just limited to students! And I doubt your kids think you’re stiff or whatever. You seem pretty cool to me. Even if I’ve only gotten to talk to you through a couple letters, you talk to me a lot nicer than I probably deserve.”
The smile that had made its home on your lips from his sentiments dropped into a frown. You felt yourself wanting to get defensive, wanting to tell him that he shouldn’t think that way about himself. That even if he was a felon, he still deserves respect.
“Being a younger teacher must be hard. You did all the college stuff to be a teacher so that should be enough to get their respect in my opinion. I don’t think I had a teacher who wasn’t at least in their 50s so they probably can’t see anyone under 30 as anything other than a kid I guess.”
“Hit the nail on the head,” you say to yourself with an airy chuckle. 
As you keep reading, he changes the subject to something you don’t remember asking in your previous letter.
“So you wanna know what I look like, huh? Well back before I was in here I would wear my band shirts, Metallica and Judas Priest and all the bands that make the old ladies cringe. My jeans had holes in them, too. And I have this battle vest that I’ve put together with some patches of my favorite bands on it. My uncle Wayne says he’s keeping it safe for me at home. It’s not much, but I learned how to stitch patches on by myself, so it means something to me. Gives me something to look forward to when I get out.” 
Your mind paints an image of a gangely teen trying to look cool to impress his friends or scare off the old ladies at the mall. Sounds like the kind of guy you had crushes on in high school. There may have been a picture or 2 of Kirk Hammit or Vince Neil or Eddie Van Halen tapped to the inside of your locker door in high school, but you’d never admit that now.
“I also had long hair when I was younger. Can’t call yourself a metal head without having long hair ya know. But I’ve had to cut it since I’ve been in here. I’ve got pretty curly hair and it was getting hard to keep up with it. It’s short enough to keep out of my face most of the time. I’m actually due for a haircut, so thanks for reminding me! Hair cuts are free in prison so I get it done way more than I ever did on the outside. You gotta tip your barber though or else they might “accidentally” shave all your hair off next time. Learned that one the hard way.”
He goes on to answer some of your questions about the inner workings of the jail. They do get to work out a lot, but says he’s not a “big meat head” like some of the other inmates. He doesn’t like basketball for “personal reasons” so he prefers to run laps. “When you’re trying to get out of a big fight it’s better to be faster than stronger.”
“I am also proud to admit that I have never stabbed someone. Almost been stabbed myself, but I used to get my shit rocked in high school so I’ve learned to dodge over the years.” Your hand comes to your face, almost forgetting that you asked such a stupid question. Of course he hasn’t stabbed anyone. You could excuse it if it was out of self defense maybe. But then you recall him saying before that he doesn’t get “messed with”, so what is he doing that people aren’t bothering him if not stabbing them? Your head spins with possibilities as you think about it more.
As you are about to read on, you are interrupted by a knock on your door, the sound causing you to jump in your seat. Quickly closing the letter and shoving it into your bag, you rush to the door to find a student from your 3rd period class, a shy one at that, needing clarification on the newest assignment. You let her in, forgetting the letter for the rest of the period. 
The rest of the period then turns into the rest of the day. It goes by like a blur as everyone seems to be getting last minute things turned in for the week. Grades for the upcoming report cards would be due by the end of next Tuesday, so you told your classes to get any missing work in by today and you would give them partial credit. It was setting yourself up for a busy weekend, but anything to keep your mind off the upcoming holiday was welcomed. 
It would be your first Thanksgiving single in almost 10 years, and your 4th since your mom passed. Your soon to be ex-husband, Henry, had convinced you to move to his hometown of Hawkins after your mother died to be closer to his family and to help his dad’s business as his accountant. It wasn’t your first choice of places to live, and after looking back on the situation, you realized that he had used your vulnerability to get a lot of what he wanted. 
Things seemed fine at first. His parents bought your house and he had a good paying job. All you had to do was cling to his arm and keep quiet. You were kept well manicured, your appearance catered to his liking as he paraded you around at office parties.
The not so hushed whispers from the women in his office always talking about how lucky you were to bag an older man reached your ears. But you kept your tongue against your cheek. They could be jealous all they want, because if they knew what happened behind closed doors they wouldn’t be singing the same tune. 
Waking up early in the morning, way before he ever did, just to put on your face. God forbid you weren’t presentable to him always. Afterwards you’d iron his white button ups and khaki slacks, make him a huge breakfast, present his clothes to him, and be waiting by the door on your knees for him to use your mouth before he walked out the door. 
At the time, you felt like you had a purpose. That being a housewife was what you were meant to be. But the degree you had worked so hard on stared at you as you cleaned the house everyday. Your passion was just in reach, boring you every day.
That is, until fate, and the well timed retirement of your predecessor, gave you the opportunity to start teaching that year. When you got the call, you were over the moon. Henry even said he was proud of you. 
Until you forgot to iron his clothes. It was just a stern talking to the first time, an anger in his eyes like you’d never seen before had you on edge the entire first day of class. You made it up to him by waking up extra early, using your mouth to start his day since you couldn’t be at the door for him anymore.
But, then you started falling behind on chores during the week as grading papers took up most of your free time when you weren’t tending to his needs. It’s not that you didn’t clean, it just wasn't the only thing you had to do every day anymore. Passive comments about becoming lazy were brushed to the side until they collectively spilled over into your first big argument. You told him he could help, too. He smacked you across the face. 
Too busy juggling work and cleaning the house full time caused you to miss the signs that things were declining. It started when Henry had to start staying late for work, claiming that they had a “big project” that was going to require him to stay over longer. He made it seem like a temporary arrangement that ended up becoming a pattern for months. But, he assured you that a raise could come from his hard work. So you continued to sit at home, a cold, untouched plate sitting across from you as you finished another bottle of wine. At least he wasn’t there to put his hands on you.
Then it was the pair of panties that you didn’t recognize when you did his laundry. When you confronted him, he told you that it must be a pair you owned back in high school that was mixed in with his clothes somehow when you moved. When you pressed on, he gave you a black eye. 
Then it was the perfume you didn’t recognize on your pillow case when you came home from a weekend trip to see your new nephew. He told you it smelled like your perfume, you just hadn’t been home all weekend to smell it. You didn’t argue this time.
Then it was his father’s secretary, Missy, calling your home and telling you that she was sleeping with your husband. She had been nice at last year's Christmas party when you first met her. Nineteen, dumb as a box of rocks.
“Are you and Henry still married?” she had asked with her valley girl accent, “Because when I stayed over I saw that he still had pictures of you two at his house.”
Now you’re stuck in this tiny town, your closest relative being your brother who has his own family out in Chicago. Thankfully, you had made friends with the ever charming Steve Harrington, who’s father also worked with Henry. He came as a package deal with his roommate Robin Buckley, and the two of them quickly became your best friends. They were as blindsided as you about Henry’s affair and helped you move into your new apartment. Steve offered to let you live with him and Robin, but you didn’t want to live in the same house as your ex’s coworker, even if he was never there.
“We should make a grocery list for next week.” Robin called from the kitchen to where you and Steve were sat in the living room. “Do we want to bother making a turkey or should we do something easier?”
“Do you know how to make a turkey?” you asked looking over the top of your wine glass as she taps a pen to paper scowling.
“She can barely make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, d’ya really think she can make a turkey?” You watch as a roll of paper towels is launched from the kitchen into the side of Steve’s head and your laugh erupts.
“Well, then were fucked,” you say between giggles, “because I can’t make a turkey, and I know Steve “grabs a pan without a mitt” Harrington also can’t cook one.”
“Oh, that was ONE TIME!” 
Steve goes to throw the paper towel roll at you, but you dodge, “One time is enough to never let you live it down, Steven. Maybe we should get some chicken instead.”
“Oh, I can make us some potato salad!”
After some back and forth about what to make for your “Friendsgiving” as Robin had been calling it, claiming inspiration from a new episode of Friends, Steve was begging to talk about anything else. 
“School seems to be better this year,” he looks at you carefully, “You haven’t been talking about it as much lately. Not negatively at least.”
“Yeah the only thing you’ve complained about is that prison thing your class was supposed to be doing.” She looked at you with a look of curiosity, “How’s that going?”
You blink and suddenly remember the letter that you had gotten earlier. It was sitting in your bag back home where you had left it on your coffee table again. You were so busy getting ready to go to Steve’s that you had forgotten to finish it.
“It’s going okay. Hey, did you guys go to high school here?”
They both look at each other, then back to you. “Yep, graduated a year after dingus, though. Class of ‘86.”
Steve gave Robin an annoyed look at the nickname before returning his attention to you, “Why do you ask?”
You pondered for a moment if it would be okay to tell them about Eddie. The program was supposed to be anonymous, but that was just to protect the kids. If he wasn’t allowed to give you his name they would have confiscated the letter, right? Bridges said the letters were vetted both ways, so if it was a problem he would have told you. But this seemed like a breach of privacy. You only had a first name to go off of and a vague description. He never said his age, so could be older than even you, or younger than Robin. 
“Um, do you guys know anyone that goes by Eddie?” 
They both perked up at the name, giving each other a look that you couldn’t read. You swore they could communicate telepathically.
Steve was the first to speak after a moment of silence. “Yeah, we know an Eddie. Why?” His tone was curious as he side eyed you.
“Oh, well my pen pal from the, uh, the prison thing. See his name is Eddie, and he told me that he’s from Hawkins. I don’t know much about him, but I think he may be close to my age and maybe he was in school with you guys-”
Robins laugh caught you off guard. “If it’s the same Eddie we know, then yes he was in school with us. Way longer than he was supposed to be, and we didn’t really get close until the end of my senior year.”
The look on your face prompted Steve to elaborate, “Eddie was -- is, a friend of ours that we got to know better through a mutual friend. He did go to prison a few years ago, but it was because he was scapegoated by a guy he bought weed from. We thought he was gonna go to jail for, like, the rest of his life or something. I had to convince my dad to get our lawyer that he keeps on retainer to represent him in court. The guy owed my dad a favor and he did it, Eddie only got five years.”
“There’s no way,” you said incredulously. Your jaw had to be on the floor. You knew this town was small, but was it really this small? Robin and Steve would be the type to forget to mention they had a friend in prison, too. 
“What’s his last name?”
“Munson. Eddie Munson. We still talk to him on the phone every once in a while. Usually his uncle gets a hold of us, tells us that he’s going to call at a certain time so we can stay by the phone. Oh!” Steve stands up from his spot on the couch, clapping his hands, “I have my senior year book up stairs. He should be in it as long as he showed up to picture day.” 
As Steve walks away, you turn to Robin, who has an amused look on her face.
“What?” You laugh, still in disbelief at the information that has been given to you. She shrugs, lips turned in a downward smile, “Nothing. So what do you and Eddie talk about?”
“What do we talk about? Not much really. We’ve only sent maybe two letters to each other. He always covers the letters in artwork though. They look like little tattoos.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely our Eddie,” She shakes her head, “His notebooks that he would carry around with him are covered in art. He told us he’s given himself some tattoos while he’s been there. We keep telling him he’s going to look like a felon when he comes out.”
“Isn’t he a felon, though?” 
“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to look like it!”
“Found it!” Steve yells as he comes back into the living room, blowing the dust off the book. He plops down on the couch between you and Robin and starts to look through the pages. “See, the funny thing about Eddie, he was supposed to graduate in ‘84, but he kept fucking around and ended up repeating his senior year -- three times.” 
“Holy shit,” you were in absolute disbelief, “he told me that in one of his letters. He said he was because the teachers didn’t like him, too.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something he would say,” Robin chuckles. 
“Ah-ha, He did show up! Here he is right here!”
Your eyes snapped to where Steve’s fingers pointed to the tiny black and white square. Eddie wasn’t kidding when he said his hair was super curly. The close up of his face makes his hair almost completely take the background out of the picture. You can barely see it but it looks like he’s wearing a Judas Priest shirt under a leather jacket and what you suspect to be the leather jacket he seems to treasure so much. When you finally let yourself focus on his face you’re met with a bright smile and dimples on either side. Dark eyes scrunched up from how high his cheeks were. You definitely would have had a crush on him if you had gone to the same school. 
“Soooo…what do you think?” Robin sing-songs with an expectant look on her face. 
You can feel yourself smiling and try to reign it in, “Well, he’s not a 40 year old biker looking guy with a beard so that makes me feel better. He looks nice, actually.” 
“He’s a good guy,” Steve starts flipping through the pages of the book, “but everyone gave him shit because…of…this.” Stopping on another page in the book, you see a picture of a group of students leaning up against a wall, all of them wearing matching shirts. 
“Hellfire Club?” You look between Steve and Robin. 
“He hasn’t mentioned Hellfire Club?” Robin was baffled. “That’s like, his whole thing!”
You shake your head, brows furrowed,“What is it?” 
“His D&D club? He’s seriously never brought it up?”
“No, not yet at least.” Taking the book from Steve, you get a better look at the picture. “Like I said, we've only sent a few letters back and forth. I wouldn’t say we’ve exhausted all of our topics for discussion yet.”
“You’ll never run out of things to talk about with Eddie,” Steve states sarcastically, “You’d think prison would have had an effect on his social skills, but that guy could talk for an hour about a crack he saw in the sidewalk.”
Hearing that made you wonder if he ever held back when writing to you. His letters were usually front and back all the way to the bottom of the pages. You wonder if they only allow him one page or if has to pay for the paper. Hopefully he wasn’t wasting his money to talk to you. 
“When was the last time you guys talked to him?” 
“Uh-“ Robin starts.
“It was still hot outside I think,” Steve interjects, “Like early September?”
“Yeah,” Robin nods, eyes wide, “September sounds about right.”
“Hmm, that’s around when we started writing to each other. I guess he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t know about me yet.” 
“If it’s been that long we’re definitely due for a call from him.” Robin looks to Steve, you miss the mischief in her eyes, nor do you see the look he gives her back. “Maybe you could talk to him next time he calls us?”
Your head snaps up, eyes wide meeting Robin’s gaze. You saw the look now and immediately started shaking your head in protest. 
“No, no, Robin I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You stand up from your spot on the couch, handing the yearbook back to Steve. Taking a few steps back to look at them, you bite one of your nails, thinking about the situation you’ve gotten yourself into. “Actually, if he does call, I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t tell him you knew me either. I’m sure he’s a nice guy but…”
“Hey,” Steve stood up and placed a hand on your arm, “It’s cool. You didn’t know Eddie before, and you barely know him now. I think Robin just meant that you could get to know him more since he is our friend. He’s gonna get out of prison eventually and we promised him that we’d just continue on like how things were before.”
“But,” you look at Steve with worry in your expression, “being in prison that long can change a person.”
“Eddie is too stubborn to let anything break him of being himself. He didn’t repeat his senior year twice because he’s dumb. He did it because he was too busy with what he wanted to do to bother with his schoolwork.”
“Actually,” Robin says, “he said prison is easier because he gets three meals a day and doesn’t have to do math, so…”
“But,” Steve gets your attention again, “My point is that you don’t have to go out of your comfort zone to be his friend for our sake if you don’t want to. Just keep talking to him on your own and see how you feel.”
You swear these two really were the only good people in Hawkins. 
“Yeah, okay,” you nodded,” I’ll keep writing him, but I won’t mention that I know you two. Not yet at least.”
November 27th, 1994
Ever since your talk with Robin and Steve, your nightmares have changed. Now that you have a face to the name they’re not really nightmares anymore. Instead of a nameless, faceless voice at your door, you can see him through the peephole. He’s not knocking on your door with rage, but out of desperation. Still begging to be let in, but the lock is on his side. You hold the key in your hand, you just have to slide it under the door…
A sharp, grating ring wakes you from your sleep, eyes shooting open and taking in the room around you. The sun peaks from behind your bedroom curtains, the light just bright enough to pester the hangover migraine that’s already in full effect. You have to strain to get your eyes to focus on the numbers on your alarm clock that read just past noon. 
The continuous ringing of the phone finally throttles you out of bed and into your kitchen. When you pick up the phone you hear Steve on the other end. 
“Oh, good, you lived,” he exclaims, “Robin, she’s still alive!”
A muffled, “oh thank god” comes from the background in the receiver. You hadn’t anticipated being so emotional the night before, thinking you were past feeling sorry for yourself that you were alone on a holiday while your bastard ex had someone keeping your side of the bed warm every night.
All the emotions came up at Steve’s during dinner. It was just the three of you there, all with broken families. They had other friends who were home for the holidays, but they were doing their own thing this weekend. Robin and Steve insisted that you join in on the festivities but you declined, using not knowing them as an excuse.
Really you just wanted some alone time. Time to yourself, to let yourself feel whatever you need to feel without having to mask in front of strangers, brush off any awkwardness if the topic of your failed marriage were to arise. 
You think Robin and Steve could tell that you were in your own head. They suggested taking you out to the only dive bar in town still open on the holiday, and assuming the place would be pretty dead, you said fuck it and all piled into Steve’s car. Sharing drinks and playing pool while metal music that made you think of your pen pal. You wondered what he was doing as you stepped outside to smoke a cigarette you bummed off an older, balding guy sitting at the bar. 
After drinking so much that Robin had to drive your car home for you, their phone call really didn’t come as a surprise to you. 
“Yes, god, I’m alive. Don’t yell into the phone, please.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to try and relieve some of the tension. The phone call is brief, Steve just wanting to check in on you and confirm that you didn’t want to participate in their outing. 
“We’re going ice skating! And if you can’t skate, our friend Max would enjoy having someone sit on the sidelines with her.”
“Sorry, Steve,” you press your forehead against the cool wood of the door frame, “I’m sure everyone is very nice, but I’m just not feeling up to it.”
After a few cups of coffee and a long shower, you settle on your couch, flipping through the channels on the tv for something to watch and settling on a Beverly Hills: 90210 rerun marathon. It didn’t take you long to lose interest and you began fidgeting for something else to keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see your work bag on the floor at the end of your couch. The memory of tripping and knocking the bag over last night comes back to you, making you internally cringe at yourself. You grab the bag and see that the contents were an unorganized mess compared to how you normally keep it. The longer you looked the crazier it made you feel, so you carefully took the papers and folders out, laying them in front of you. 
When you picked up your first period folder, the familiar envelope that you had forgotten a week ago fell out, landing in your lap. You quickly pick it up and open it, remembering that you hadn't even had the chance to properly finish reading it. 
Something about seeing the letter again made you feel good. As you look at the artwork, you see the picture of the shirts his club members wore and smile as you realize he made the shirts himself. 
You reread the description of himself and can laugh because he must have worn the same thing every day, recalling the holes in his jeans and his battle vest from his pictures. It was hard to imagine the wild mane of hair he had being cut short. Do they get conditioner in prison? Because his hair must be a mess without it. 
Finally, you get to the part of the letter you hadn’t read. You felt your heart beating in your chest, an anxiousness building that you couldn’t explain. 
“I’m running low on space to write and I don’t know when I’ll hear from you again, but I just wanted to ask-“
You’re thrown off when you see two lines of the letter have been blacked out with a black marker or sharpie. There’s no way to make out what was written, and the last line is just him wishing you a “happy whatever holiday you celebrate,” his real signature greeting you at the very bottom of the page. “What the hell?” You asked the empty apartment. The first assumption that comes to mind is that Eddie must have messed up what he was going to write and decided to black it out since he wrote in pen. Or maybe he wanted to write more, but realized he was running out of space? That would go with your theory that they are limited in the paper they can get. 
There’s also the possibility he said something inappropriate and whoever checks the letters made him redact it. That was probably the least likely, but it makes you laugh to think about. Robin and Steve brought him up a few times while you were drinking and gave him the highest praises. But, you never know what someone would be willing to say or do when they’ve been touch starved for almost 5 years.
Butterflies invade your stomach when you think about it more. He’s probably had to take care of himself quite a bit while he’s been locked up. Where does one even do that in prison without prying eyes?
Your thighs clench together at the image you’ve conjured in your head. Steve had shown you some pictures of Eddie that he found from not too long before he went to prison. Sure, he resembled his yearbook picture, thin and lanky he once was. But the picture of him and Steve at a lake, both of them shirtless and clearly soaking wet, displayed muscles that he had likely gained from the mechanic job Robin mentioned he had. The tattoos that he had on his body were taking over, almost covering one of his arms completely. 
The image of soaked curly hairs clinging to his face as he’s leaning into a shower wall comes to the forefront of your mind. Toned arms flexing as he holds himself against the wall with one hand, stroking himself with the other. You imagined his hands were rough and calloused from playing guitar and working on cars. He was long and hard as he pumped himself, water dripping off the tip with each down stroke. God, you can only imagine his face as he cums, a loud groan falling from his lips as he spills onto the shower floor, calling your name…
You throw yourself into the couch cushion next to you and physically cringe. Where the hell did that come from? Was this the result of your dry spell since you left Henry? A guy that you’ve never even met before gives you a little attention and your brain automatically goes into the gutter. Sitting up, you rub your face in your hands in an attempt to keep the scenario from replaying in your mind. At least you had successfully distracted yourself from the self pity you were wallowing in. 
You roll onto your back, holding up the letter in your hand. You admire the artwork, the sloppy handwriting. A person wrote this letter. Someone who did something illegal and paid the price for it. Someone who is very loved and has an uncle waiting for him somewhere in this town, and friends who would do anything for him. And now, he’s writing you letters, and you wonder if he is feeling the same way that you are starting to feel…what are you feeling, exactly?
Sitting up from the couch, you grab a pen and paper from your bag.
“Hello Eddie” no.
“Hey, stranger” no.
“What’s up!” definitely not.
Another balled up paper tossed to the ground. 
“Dear Eddie,” sure why not, “I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season yourself. Hopefully your uncle can come and see you for whatever you celebrate. If not, at least a phone call would be nice. Does the prison give you anything special for the holidays? Like a turkey for Thanksgiving, ham for Christmas, the traditional stuff. I spent the holiday with-”
Steve and Robin. You know them! I know who you are, too. Totally not weird, right?
“-my friends. They called it “Friendsgiving,” I think it had something to do with a TV show. None of us like to cook, so we ended up just picking up stuff at the store and then going out to a local bar. I’m writing this letter the next day, a little hungover I have to admit. But, writing this letter has helped distract me from the migraine I’m trying to stave off. It’s been very busy at school lately with projects, exams, a choir…thing? All that means for me is that I have mountains of paperwork to grade, and I spent the last month trying to get kids to turn in anything missing. It’s like trying to get squirrels to stay in a basket.
Winter break is just around the corner, though. Which means two weeks of getting to sleep in late, watching terrible TV reruns, and using the cold weather as an excuse to stay inside. Although, I think my friends will manage to get me out of my apartment one way or another. I feel like a cat who was adopted by two dogs who share the same brain cell. But, they have helped me a lot over the last couple of months so I owe it to them to be their voice of reason sometimes.”
You pause and have a laugh to yourself. You think about all the ridiculous adventures the two of them have taken you on in the last few months, doing things that you would never have done before Henry. They’ve taken the hard metal bones out of your binding and started loosening the strings. You wonder if you would have even said yes to doing this letter thing if you hadn’t already had your boundaries pushed a little.
“I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but do you have any big plans for when you get out? Places you want to go? Food you want to try? People you want to see?”
You smile when you dot the last question mark. It feels sneaky to ask when you know that your meeting is inevitable, and there is a small voice in your ear telling you that he wouldn’t want to meet you. You’re boring. Simple. Dull. Only shades of grey fill your wardrobe, your heart, where there was once colour. Broken.
The new bottle of wine you got at the gas station stares at you from the kitchen.
Anyway.
“Hopefully you’re able to get out in time for the summer. Wouldn’t it be nice to walk outside as a free man and get to feel the sun on your skin? I think Hawkins is having a Rose festival again next year. There could be some inspiration there for you for your art, and if not, the funnel cakes are worth the admission price. Everything else is overpriced, but what isn’t nowadays?”
Filling the last bit of the back of the page, you felt it only fair to give a few details about yourself. Just a general description, nothing too revealing. Not that there was much to give away since becoming a professional educator has taken any creative freedom from your sense of style. You did tell him that on the weekends you treated yourself by wearing comfy clothes all day. You didn’t tell him that you only felt okay to do that recently, since your ex husband always expected you to look your best.
As you reached the bottom, you remembered the redacted section of his last letter. Do should you ask about it? Would he even be able to tell you? You went ahead and brought it up.
“Before I close this letter, I am curious to know why the last bit of your letter had been marked out. I can only imagine what you could have asked that it had to be taken out. I hope it wasn’t inappropriate, Mr.Banished.” You added a little “ha ha” in parentheses so he knew you were just joking, careful once again not to offend.
“Looking forward to your next letter,”
You signed your name, fighting the urge to draw a heart next to it like the girls in your class writing notes to their crush. There was no way that feeling like this for someone that you’ve only had correspondence through letters and the bit of hype from your mutual friends can be healthy. Grabbing the box of greeting cards that you had sat on the coffee table, you wrote some well wishes and folded your letter to fit within the confines of the red envelope. You took a look at it for the first time since Bridges had handed them over and your heart dropped. 
In one of the ethics classes you took in college a classmate did a presentation on Pendleton Prison. It had just come out the year before that there had been an abuse of power and prisoners were basically being tortured. It was hard to observe but informative. You couldn’t even imagine something like that happening to Eddie. You wondered if the reason they were participating in this program to begin with was to help with their reputation. We’ll let them talk to some kids and it will seem like we’re not abusing our inmates.
You look at the wine bottle again.
It’s fine. If Eddie was going through something like that, surely he would have told Steve and Robin, his uncle. But you wanted to be sure. You walk into your kitchen.
December 25th, 1994
“…You can say hello when you see me. You don't have to be afraid. There's a lot of things going around about me, but none of it's true. Okay?”
Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly close them when the harsh light of your tv playing Home Alone was too bright. Another dream about Eddie had taken over your mind in your sleep. You sit back to the door, the key in your hand. He doesn’t push you anymore, says to only give the key if you want to. That he enjoys your company no matter what. 
Sigh.
As you sit up from the couch where you had dozed off the night before, you decide to make a cup of coffee and ring your brother. 
“I could have come to get you. And brought you back. You know I don’t mind-“
“No, no, it’s okay, really. You have your own family now, I don’t want to dampen the mood,” you say as if you mean it. Coffee swishes around in your mug as you talk. It was true that your brother had a family of his own and was living the American dream. You liked that he invited you to be part of that, but you just couldn’t get past the notion that everyone would just look at you with pity. You’d rather be alone
Steve and Robin also invited you to Colorado with them. Steve’s parents had a house in Aspen where they were hosting Christmas this year. Steve insisted his parents wouldn’t care if you tagged along since they started to become fond of Robin. As much as seeing the beautiful snow covered mountains of Colorado sounds like a great reprieve for your mind, you still lied and told them you were going to your brothers. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 
The sound of Kevin McCallister’s hijinks in New York got your attention. The movie distracted you for a while, until it didn’t. You watched the tv -- well, rather you looked at it for until you stood up, deciding to get out of the house, even if just to drive around.
The movie-esque scenery of small town Hawkins covered in snow was quiet and still, say for the few cars that you passed likely on the way to see family, traveling between houses. Something you and Henry did to make things fair for both of you. Your mom’s house first, then his parents.
Cars sat outside the Hideout, piquing your interest as you watched a man get out of a pick up truck and walk inside. It was close enough to five o'clock that you decided to pull into the lot, pulling into a spot by the door. Inside you were surprised to see it fairly occupied, mostly by men who looked like they worked at the factory in town or drove the big rig that was parked on the side of the building. The patrons seemed to talk amongst themselves, some semblance of holiday cheer keeping their spirits alive as their glasses clanked and boisterous laughs filled the air.
Sliding into an empty bar stool, you grabbed your purse to get your ID and some cash. 
“Ain’t ya little young to be sittin’ alone at a bar on Christmas?”
You looked up from your purse at the man sitting next to you at the bar. He sipped from his glass, cigarette smoke seeping from his lips, attention set on nothing in particular. He was an older man, bald on top and plenty of aging on his face, but you had the feeling he was younger than he looked. Some of his features felt familiar to you but you weren’t sure why.
“Um, well, I guess so,” you stutter as you set your purse down between your feet. “But, uh, I really didn’t want to spend Christmas alone.”
A hum and a nod, “I guess loneliness knows no age.” He huffed a laugh before getting the bartender's attention. “What are you drinking?”
“Oh, no, please, you don’t-” you begin to protest, but he puts his hand up and waves you off.
“Trust me,” he takes a long drag from his cigarette, “I would be buying it for someone else if they could be here.”
Ah. You tell the bartender your order and the man tells him to put it on his tab. 
“Thank you,” you give him a genuine smile, turning towards him to speak as the bar patrons become louder. You paused for a beat before speaking again, “I’m sorry you’re alone today.”
“Makes no difference to me really, just another day to me,” he takes a sip of his beer. You almost miss it, but you see the flash of a smile on his face. 
“Just another day, huh,” you say smugly, dipping your head into his line of vision. He must have realized he was smiling because he covered his hand with his mouth shyly, the motion a contradiction to his hard exterior. Clearing his throat, he sat up in his seat, opening from his hunched position to talk with you properly.
“It’s just another day, always been to me, but,” He looks at you for a moment, then back down into his beer, “I used to celebrate, for my boy. Haven’t gotten to do that properly in a while. I’m hopin’ this year will be the last, that next year will be different.”
His endearment made your eyes misty. “That’s so sweet,” you coo, putting a hand on coat covered arm, “I’m sure things will work out.” You pull back when your drink is dropped off, quickly taking a few sips. 
The man watches you, his head shaking in your peripherals. “So, what’s really got ya out here celebrating with Hawkins finest? Besides the, uh,” he gestures vaguely, “cheerful atmosphere.”
You stay quiet for a moment, eyes focused on the straw floating in your drink. Deep breath in, and out. “Do you want the half truth or the full truth?”
His body bounces from a chuckle, “I got a little time.”
Pouring your heart out to a stranger over drinks felt therapeutic, and not in the same way as talking to Robin and Steve. He just listened, nodded his head, grunted in what you assume to be agreement. This man, who looks like he hasn’t taken a day off in his life, made you feel more valid with no words at all than anyone else has in your entire life besides your own mother.
“And now I’m, like, kinda into this guy, but he doesn’t know I exist,” your words are a little slurred as you take down another drink. “Sorry, no, he knows I exist, but he knows nothing about me. Like, he knows some things, but he doesn’t really know me, ya know?”
His head bobs up and down, takes another drag of his cigarette.
“I feel weird feeling this way, because I would never have even considered a guy like him before. Henry, I told you about Henry, he was super uppity, snotty. A real tight ass. But, this guy is funny. Genuine, and his friends talk him up. Who wouldn’t fall for a guy like that? Even if he is rough around the edges.”
“Well, if it doesn’t work out with you and this guy, I outta introduce you to my nephew. He was always picked on in school for being different, but he’s a good kid. Just got into the wrong stuff,” the mans face sunk a bit, “My fault really.”
You tilt your head in confusion, “How so?”
“Heart attack. Had one while at work. Stayed in the hospital for a few, got the bill and almost had another one,” he chuckles at that. “I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘em, but he came over to visit and I forgot about it. Saw it sittin’ on the counter. Next thing I know he’s callin’ me sayin’ he’s booked on ‘possession with intent to distribute’. Buncha bull for some grass.” He put his cigarette out with a harsh stab. “But, he’ll be good soon. My deadbeat brother’s been keepin’ an eye on him in there and he’s been keeping his good behavior streak.”
“He sounds like a good kid,” you rest your cheek against the cool counter as you smile up at him.
“Yeah, he is.” His smile reaches his eyes, and so does yours.
“Well, gotta go, darlin’,” he slaps a couple bills on the counter and nods to the bartender, “Excpectin’ a call here soon. Get you some pretzels or somethin’ before ya take off.”
“Thank you,” your brows come together, “sorry, I don’t think I ever caught your name?”
“Names Wayne.”
“Nice to meet you, Wayne.”
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nanawritesit · 2 years
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Obey Me! Demon Brothers Imagine: MC is kidnapped by a lower demon and summons them to save them
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor
Dateables Ver.
Trigger Warnings: mentions of torture, punching, kicking, and choking. Slightly suggestive with Asmo? MC is tied to a chair and slightly manhandled.
Scenario:
You thought all of this would be over. You had been at RAD for half a year now, all the demons seemed to be used to your presence and no one had so much as given you dirty looks anymore. When you first arrived you were the target of some bullying and pranks, but after the school learned you were under the protection of the seven brothers, that ceased to exist.
So when Judas, a popular and nice demon in your history class offered to help you study after school, you gladly accepted it. It was your worst subject, and exams were quickly approaching. He was smart, pretty, and seemed to get along well with everyone.
That was what you thought until you woke up in a dark room, tied to a chair looking up at him horrified. Your mind drifted back to when he offered you a drink when you first came to the study room. He must have slipped you something and then drug you off to some secluded area.
“Why would you do this?” you demanded, tugging at the ropes that bound your fists together behind the chair.
“Because I think Lord Diavolo’s plan to unite the three realms is blasphemous.” Judas spat back. “Humans could never stand as equals to demons, and when I’m done with you, he’ll feel the same way.”
“I’ll give you one chance.” you told him with an ice cold stare, doing an awful good job at hiding your fear. “Let me go right now and I won’t summon him.”
Judas laughed maniacally, throwing his head back to the ceiling and clapping his hands. He then grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to look up at him. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’d love to join me. You may think those brothers like you, but they only protect you out of pity.”
You gave Judas a small smirk before screaming out your demon’s name, pact mark glowing brightly on your skin.
Lucifer:
His vision immediately turned red as soon as he gained sight of what was before him. Some lower level demon was touching his human. In a few short strides he had already made his way over, picking up the scum with effortless strength and throwing him to the ground with such immense force. As Judas was whimpering beneath him, Lucifer gave a low chuckle as he cracked his neck and put his boot against Judas’ skull.
“So you’re the one who’s been stalking them? I should have known. Lower level scum like you always want to go after a stronger man’s treasures to prove something of themselves. I can always sense when someone is after my MC. I just never thought it would be someone I used to respect.” He pushed his foot down further on Judas’s temple making him cry out.
“Mark my words, heathen.” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. “You’re in for a fate much worse than you were planning to give my MC. You messed with the biggest bull in the devildom, and now you’ll be impaled by my horns.” Lucifer gave one swift kick to Judas’ abdomen, rendering him unconscious.
His demon form instantly vanished as he turned to you, practically sprinting over to you. He knealt down to your level, scanning over your body for any signs of injury with such soft eyes. “Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you did he?”
“No he didn’t.” you told him, finally feeling safe enough to release a few tears. “I called for you right away.”
“Oh my love…” he immediately wrapped his arms around you, placing your head in the crook of his neck. He pulled back to look at you with such admiration. “You were so brave, you did such a wonderful job. I only wish I could have been there to help you sooner. But don’t fret, you’re safe now.”
Now that he new you were safe, Lucifer couldn’t resist the swell of pride in his chest at the fact that you immediately called him for help. But of course, he couldn’t tell you that.
Mammon:
When he was summoned he was actually facing away from the two of you, arms stretched behind his head as he cracked his back. His physique alone was truly incredible, immediately striking fear into the heart of Judas, who thought you were bluffing about being able to summon your demon.
“Ah, MC, I didn’t think ya would need me so soon.” Mammon said, his words dripping with cockiness. He turned around, ocean eyes zeroing in on Judas, making him go frozen. Greed soared through every cell in his body as he realized: someone thought they could take you away from him. And there was no saving Judas after that.
At the speed of light, Mammon had him pushed up against the wall, right hand locked around his neck in a tight chokehold while his left snapped off one of Judas’ horns.
“Now, mind explaining to me what made ya think you had the right to touch my precious human?” he spat, seething with rage as he tossed the severed horn over his shoulder.
“Come on man, it’s not what you think!” Judas stammered, practically shaking against Mammon’s enourmous frame. “I just wanted to shake them up a bit! You don’t really care for this worthless human do you?”
At that Mammon lost it and socked him right in the jaw, so hard it sounded like a cannon. He then grabbed the back of Judas’ neck in the same way that he had seen him do to you. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever, call them that. You’re about to incur the wrath of The Great Mammon, then you’ll know what it’s like to feel worthless. But you’ll have to wait for that treat until I can get MC out of this hellhole.”
In another quick flash of movement, Mammon untied you from the chair and set you down on the floor gently, then tied Judas up to the chair the exact same way. Once he was out of the way, Mammon rushed over to you, cupping your face in his hands.
“Are you okay? How much happened before I got here?” he pleaded, eyes watering the tiniest bit.
“Not much,” you told him, placing your hands over his. “You came right away, my demon.”
“Of course I did. I’m your Great Mammon.” he smirked, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “But what were ya doing hanging out with some shady guy like this?! You should be more careful!” he shook you lightly in a scolding tone.
“I’m sorry, you’re right! I shouldn’t have been so careless.” you confessed, tossing your head against his chest.
Mammon was shocked that you agreed with him so easily without any push back. He realized then that you were probably tired from the adrenaline rush of everything. He just thought of you being so strong, he didn’t even consider that you might have been scared of Judas.
“It’s alright, MC.” he said affectionately patting the back of your head, trying not to soil the moment with the ego boost it gave him. “I’ll take care of everything for ya.”
Leviathan:
Levi didn’t like to admit it, but he could get extremely protective over you. After all, you’re his person. You guys had such a special connection that he hadn’t found in anyone else. Well, other than Henry. And while he never took much pride at all in his sin of envy, you were the only thing he was not willing to share with anyone, not even his brothers or Lord Diavolo. He would defend his right to be your demon against all odds, and the fact that this joker thought he had the right to mess with his favorite person was just unacceptable.
This was the angriest you had seen him since the TSL quiz showdown, and to be frank, you were just glad he was on your side. Levi took slow, suspenseful steps toward Judas who was paralyzed with fear, before stopping dead in front of him. Without warning, his tail wrapped around the lower demon like a boa constrictor, lifting him up into the air as he gasped for air.
“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” he hissed, practically shaking the room with his rage. “Let me tell you this, they have more of a beloved place in this realm than a normie like you ever will!”
“C-calm down man!” Judas choked out. “I wasn’t going to hurt them! I just wanted to teach them a lesson!”
Levi giggled in that devious, maniacal way that he does at times, leaning in closer to the inferior’s face as he spoke. “Well then allow me to teach you a few lessons, hm?”
With that, Judas was thrown across the room and slammed against the hard stone wall. The force was so much that some of the rock began to crumble around his body.
“Lesson number one.” Levi began. “Never touch something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“Lesson number two…” he continued, giving the inferior a harsh slap on the back with his tail as he tried to get back up, making him fall flat on the floor with a thud. “When you do wrong, you must suffer the consequences.”
After all this, Levi yanked Judas’ head up by his hair and forced him to look him in the eyes. “And lesson three- never mess with the Avatar of Envy or his human.”
When Levi felt that his work was done, he sprinted over to you and undid your restraints, then scooped you up in his arms and carried you away to recuperate in his bathtub/bed.
“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner MC-chan! Can I make it up to you with a TSL marathon and Ruri cosplay photo shoot?”
Satan:
O-ho-ho no. No no no. That scum picked the wrong human to kidnap. Satan has been known to be quite the sadist, and quite knowledgeable in the subject of torture. And this was no exception.
Satan didn’t really like to use his sin. He felt that if it was only born out of Lucifer’s rage, then giving into his wrath would push him further into his brother’s shadow. Normally, Satan would use his acquired intelligence against this demon. However, this was most certainly not one of those times. The second Satan looked into your teary eyes, he was an absolute beast. He sprinted up to the demon and tackled him straight to the ground. He threw punch after punch, until the miserable thing cried out for mercy.
“Shut up, you worthless worm!” Satan practically roared, clutching the demon’s collar with both hands. “How dare you, how dare you put your filthy hands on my irreplaceable human!” He then yanked Judas up to his face and hissed with a whisper into his ear, “No amount of pain you incur will ever atone for what you put them through, but I’ll be damned if I let you go without a punishment. I’ll see you in the dungeon.”
Then with a snap of Satan’s fingers, Judas had vanished to another location. After he untied you, you practically leapt into his arms. You were so shook up, clutching onto him for dear life and not being able to hold back your tears any longer. He of course immediately went soft and cradled you in his arms, sitting down with you in his lap.
“It’s alright my darling.” he told you, running his hand along your back, not realizing how tightly he was holding onto you until he leaned back to look you in the eye. “I guess the only thing I’m afraid of in this world is losing you. Could you ever accept such a wrathful heart?”
You put your hands around his cheeks which he immediately blushed at, turning as still as a statue. “You’re absolutely beautiful Satan. You’re so strong, but still so delicate. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have saved me.”
At that, the sound of a cupid’s arrow plucking a tiny green demon heart could be heard throughout the entire devildom. No one had ever described him so kindly. Satan now knew for sure that the only kind of demon he ever wanted to be was yours.
Asmodeus:
At first glance, Asmo didn’t seem very intimidating. With his slender frame, cute voice, and soft facial features, no one expected him to be so lethal. But Judas underestimating his love for you was a big mistake.
Asmo swooped into the room, his black wings spanning out behind him as he landed, standing tall in front of you. His doe eyes widened at the sight of you. He had only seen you in this position once before, and he could tell by the look on your face that this was not the same kind of scenario.
“MC… do you want me to take care of this?” Asmo chirped, his face looking sweet and innocent but you could see the danger that lurked behind his amber gaze. You gave him a frantic nod, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
In mere seconds, you watched your sweet little avatar of lust transform into the most terrifying being in the devildom. His eyes darkened, his veins stood out against the skin of his arms and hands, wings and horns gleaming in the faint light of the dimly lit room… to you, he looked hot as hell, but to Judas, he looked positively terrifying.
“So, you think you can tie my MC up?” Asmo sneered, striding up to Judas who was already backing away from you. “Only I get to do that, little demon. And that’s with consent.” In a flash, Judas was on his knees, absolutely captivated by the darkness that Asmo radiated. Asmo took advantage of this and kicked him up the head with his heeled boot, rendering him unconscious.
“MC!” he called out, instantly turning on his heel and running to you, tearing the ropes away from you. He wrapped you up in his wings and embraced you for a moment before pulling back to look you over. “I’m so happy you’re safe! Sorry you had to see that side of me, I know it’s not so pretty! How about I make it up to you with a night of pampering? I’ve got face masks and a rose petal bath with your name on it!”
“Oh, don’t worry Asmo…” you reassured him, pushing his honey colored waves back. “I didn’t mind seeing you like that. It was sort of sexy.”
“Oh?” he smirked, caressing your cheek. “Would you like me to take you back to my room and show you more?”
Beelzebub:
Beel was especially shocked at the scene that played out in front of him, considering he and Judas were teammates on the Fangol team. He couldn’t believe that someone he fought and played with could hurt his beloved human.
Beel’s a big boy. Like, he’s very tall. And muscular. His build alone was enough to leave Judas quaking in his boots. But that was nothing compared to the way his violet eyes pierced into him, making him feel about two inches tall.
“You’re trying to hurt… my human? MY human?” Beel demanded, towering over the inferior creature who was scrambling backwards. “What makes you think you have the right!” This was just as bad as… no, worse than when his custard was stolen.
“Beel, I…” Judas stuttered, looking around for any sort of excuse for what he had done. “I’m surprised you don’t want to share this snack with me! I mean, they do look delicious don’t they?”
Oh that did it. Beel’s large hand clasped around the demon’s throat, raising him up into the air by only his neck. He then pushed him up against the wall, still holding him up.
“Now you listen to me…” Beel growled in such a deep voice you could barely hear him from where you sat. “They are not a snack. And even if they were I sure as hell wouldn’t share them with the likes of you. Do you understand?” Judas was dumb founded, stammering and stuttering from his place on the wall. Beel was getting impatient, and slammed his body against the wall once more. “I said, do you understand!”
“Yes! I do! I promise!” Judas pleaded.
“Good.” Beel continued. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna let you go, but you’re going to run far away and never show your face in this realm again. If I ever see you around here again, you’ll wish you hadn’t been so bold as to fall from grace in the first place. Got it?”
“Yes! You won’t ever see me again in your life!” Judas cried, and with that Beel thrashed him onto the ground. He scuttled away, never to be seen again, and Beel turned back into the giant puppy that he truly was for you.
“Are you okay love? Did I not come soon enough?” He asked so softly he was almost whispering. He was feeling all over your body looking for the slightest abnormality.
“No my darling, you came just in time.” you told him, feeling so much better now that it was just the two of you in the room. You gave him a kiss on the forehead that made him smile so bright. “My hero.”
“Let’s get you out of here, yeah?” he suggested, and after you gave him a nod he carried you off to your room bridal style. He cuddled you all night after that. Well, at least until dinner time.
Belphegor:
You were the only one allowed to disturb Belphie’s sleep. And even you thought it was best to choose your battles wisely. So when you summoned him without any warning, he knew something was wrong. All the sleepiness in his face faded as he saw his darling in the hands of some monster. He was suddenly wide awake.
“This is your demon?” Judas chuckled, pulling your neck back even further in his hand. “This is the lowest ranking of the seven brothers! I’m not so easily intimidated.”
Belphegor simply chuckled at this remark, then yawned and stretched like he normally does after a nap. “MC dear, you may want to look away. I don’t want to trigger you by acting like I did the night I attacked you.”
That was all you needed to hear before you craned your neck away from the two demons. You had forgiven Belphegor for that night long ago, but you certainly didn’t want to see that terrifying side of him again.
“Little Judas…” Belphegor went on, striding over to him with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not the first person to underestimate my power as seventh-born… and you probably won’t be the last.” He snickered, cracking his knuckles. “But I am still one of the seven brothers for a reason. And it’s a good reason too. That’s something you’ll never forget.”
After that, all you heard was a bunch of frenzied noises, mostly of Belphegor’s blows and Judas’s begging for forgiveness. Once the noise stopped, Belphie suddenly appeared in front of you, the exact same way you saw him before you looked away.
“He’s taken care of darling.” he smiled, kissing your cheek before untying you. As soon as you were free, you sprung into his arms, burying your head in his chest and squeezing his torso super tight. He was taken aback by this for a second, but then smiled at your affections, holding you against him softly.
“Thank you so much.” you uttered quietly. “You really saved me Belphie. This definitely makes up for when you tried to kill me.”
“I’m honored, but I’m still going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you. Starting with taking you up to bed and holding you close until you fall asleep with only sweet dreams.”
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bunnylovesani · 5 months
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Daddy Issues
(This is what I imagine him looking like in this fic)
Content warnings: MDNI, reader has daddy issues, 20 year age gap, Anakin is your best friend’s dad, drinking, fingering, dirty talk, general smut with a bit of fluff
WC: 2.6k
You and Leia met in your first year of college and your friendship quickly blossomed. Despite being from the same town, you’d never bumped into each other. If you had, you’re sure you would’ve remembered him. The first time you’d met him was Christmas, 4 years ago; it was your first time coming round to the Skywalker residence and all you knew was that Leia was raised by a single dad, who was now in his 40s. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were fascinated. He had dark blonde hair which curled into golden ringlets at the ends and a mysterious quality about him you were sure made the women weak at the knees- how he’d managed to stay single for most of his life was beyond you.
Despite your fervent initial attraction to him, you tried your best to put all of it aside. Besides the obvious reasons to restrain yourself, he was also the first positive male figure you’d had in your life. He was a damn good father; always present in Leia’s life and, since you two were joined at the hip, by extension yours too. You ignored every sign, every impulse, every sizzling moment of tension that came between you two- tension you naturally assumed was one sided- he’s a decent, respectable man after all.
You had it all under control- until you received a call confirming the graduate program you’d applied for months ago had been accepted. The subsequent week was spent getting daydrunk while hesitantly packing your entire life into a van full of brown boxes- or rather, directing Leia to do it for you since you were too inebriated. It all boiled down to your final night; one last night in the suburbs you’d felt suffocated by your entire life before you moved to the big city to start your shiny new life.
So why did you feel sad? You suspected you knew the reason but spent the better half of an evening denying it and battling the growing urge to pay him a visit. Eventually, when the reality that you were about to leave him forever sunk in, you found your feet taking you out the door of their own volition. Preparing to ambush him with the help of some liquid courage you’d choked down prior to leaving, you rung the doorbell of his house for what you thought may be the last time.
“Oh, hey honey. Leia just left to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house, you just missed her. I thought you’d already said your goodbyes?”. He innocently questions as he opens the door and lets you in.
“I know, it’s you I came to say goodbye to.” You say anxiously, staring at him intensely through your lashes.
“I see, I’m honoured.” He smiles and approaches you, pulling you into a hug. “Good luck with everything sweetheart, stay safe and above all- remember to have fun! Life passes you by in an instant and one day you’ll wake up as old as I am and kick yourself for not grabbing every opportunity you had.”
“Funny you say that, Sir. That’s the exact mantra I’ve adopted recently. Fuck it, right?” You help yourself to the glass of whiskey he was holding out of his hand and take a sip.
“Can I sit with you for a little while?” You plop onto his cushioned couch before he can reply.
“Erm, yeah of course, make yourself at home.” He says welcomingly, though with a perplexed expression on his slightly wrinkled face. “Are you okay?” He wonders if there’s a reason you’re acting so strange. You don’t usually drink.
“I’m great, thank you Sir.” You bat your lashes. “Just feeling sentimental with the circumstances and all.”
“How many times have I said, call me Anakin. I know I’m old but after so many years I’d say we’re on a first name basis.” He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance. “I know I’m nothing much to you but I really do think of you and Leia as my girls. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” He says endearingly, smiling at you kindly.
That’s when you’re reminded of the reason you came here tonight. You had every intention of telling him how you truly felt, how you’d had a raging crush on him from the moment you met him- and now that you might never see him again, you saw no reason why you shouldn’t act on those feelings.
But hearing him compare you to his daughter filled a hole you felt inside you ever since your father abandoned you- while simultaneously making you feel sick to your stomach.
You stared into his warm eyes, encased with crows feet and accompanied by two prominent creases on his forehead. You shouldn’t find a man of his age so attractive but you do.
“You know, I don’t think you’re old.” You state simply.
“What?” He asks somewhat confused by your meaning.
“You said one day I’ll wake up as old as you. I don’t think you’re old at all. If anything, you’re in your prime.” You look away. “You’re not nothing to me either.”
He looks visibly stunned, though he tries to mask it by refilling a glass of whiskey, the brown liquid almost spilling everywhere.
“Right back at you, kid. Well I’m sure you’ve got a lot of packing to do so I won’t keep you. You need a ride?” He shuffles in his seat.
“No. Not the kind of ride you’re thinking of anyway.” A wave of boldness overcomes you and you feel the alcohol burning through your veins as you shuffle closer to him.
“Uh, I think that whiskey’s gone straight to your head. Why don’t I get you some water?” He’s about to get up but you grab him by the hand and force him to stay seated, holding onto it longer than necessary.
“You know how I feel about you Anakin. I know you know.” You stare deep into his mature blue eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with an apprehensive gulp.
“Now that’s enough young lady. You absolutely should not be thinking about me in that way. I’m almost twice your age.” He sternly warns you and you can’t help but wince. The way he’s scolding you is triggering some deep rooted daddy issues. You knew you always had them to some extent but you never knew just how bad they were until you met Anakin.
“I dont mean to make you uncomfortable, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. I’ll leave right now if you want me to, you’ll never see me again. Just tell me you don’t feel anything towards me and I’ll be on my way.” You’re huddled over him with your legs on the sofa, hand slowly inching its way towards his thigh.
A flash of conflicting emotions run through his eyes- he’s obviously embarrassed, perhaps shocked - though you find it hard to believe he had no clue at all- but there’s something else. He’s debating with himself, you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.
“I can’t say that.” He meets your gaze. “I care about you a lot, you know that. Which is why you need to leave. You’re not in the right state of mind.” He gets up again but you pull him down and climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I have been in love with you for 4 years, Anakin. You are my every waking thought. I know it’s wrong and you’d never be with me but I can’t control myself. If I can’t have you forever, let me have just this one night- please.” You wait for him to object to the way you’re sitting on him but to your surprise, he doesn’t.
“Alright, honey.” He grumbles softly after a little while, looking at you with a subdued expression that conveyed both concern and understanding. “Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. I’m yours for the night.”
You sit there, stunned. You were fully expecting him to kick you out of the house and tell Leia everything. You were expecting anything other than him giving in. Is he just taking pity on you and thinks this will help you get over your daddy issues? He knows you have them. Or is he as sick and twisted as you are?
“Can…can I…” You lean in, pressing your fingertips against his lips.
“Leave it all to me sweetheart. Daddy will make it all better.” He wastes no time taking your hands into his own and kissing your fingertips softly, before pressing his lips against yours.
You’re too stunned to react so you allow him to kiss your motionless lips, your eyes still wide open in disbelief. You’d never been so grateful to someone for taking the lead.
“Close those pretty eyes for me baby, you’re safe now.” He kisses your eyelids softly and his gentle caresses awaken a deep urge within you.
You grab at his collared shirt, loosening his tie and unbuttoning it. “Been working more late nights at the office?” You mumble into his lips as you push the crisp white shirt off his shoulders, leaving his muscles exposed.
“That’s because I have two women in my life who bleed me dry.” He chuckles and you smile at the memory; he’s shelled out for you on more than one occasion- from plane tickets and birthday gifts to a new MacBook for college because your one broke and you couldn’t afford another since you’d been fired from your waitressing job- he even agreed that that guy deserved to get a drink thrown in his face for grabbing you. He said that if he were there, he would’ve done worse.
Before you freefall into a psychoanalytical hole, Anakin rips your skirt off - it’s as if he can hear your mind working overtime. You gasp a little as he kneads the fat of your ass cheeks roughly, guiding you until you’re grinding against him. You can feel him getting hard, and oh did it feel big. You’d stolen subtle glances at his crotch on numerous occasions, contemplating what it might look like, what colour the tip might be, what it might taste like. You couldn’t bare to be left in the dark any longer so you reached for his belt and impatiently started undoing it- but you were stopped by his large hands cupping yours.
“Not just yet princess. I wanna take my time with you.” He whispered coarsely and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Before you knew it, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on his lap with your back facing his front. He traced his tongue in big open kisses along your neck while his hands trailed up and down your thighs, before he hooked his fingers around your panties.
“Lets get these off shall we?” He purred and his words sent sparks straight down to your core. He lowered your underwear only down to your knees, before spreading your legs a little, his hand placed under one of your thighs to keep it up. You felt the cold air hit you and knew instantly that you were soaked.
You breathing was reduced to short little pants as his fingers reached the inner folds of your pussy, and it felt like every caress touched your soul. You started squirming about in his lap as two of his fingers slid into you.
“Goddamn… oh baby, I didnt even mean for that to happen but you’re just so wet they slipped right in.” You mewled at his lustful words as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your clit with the base of his thumb.
“Oh Ani…ah fuck!.” You cried. “Anakin!”
“Yes sweetheart, what is it?” Gaining speed, he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and turned your head to force you to look at him but you were too stimulated to respond.
“Do you hear how wet you are? And here I thought you were a good girl.” He maintains eye contact and your cheeks flush at the lewd sounds coming from your core. You take a glance and see his hand is glistening with your arousal, wetness squelching as it pours down to the Rolex on his wrist.
“Aah…I, I’m sorry daddy! Mm can’t help it” You manage to squeal out, embarassed by how wet and helpless he made you.
“Don’t you dare apologise sweetheart. Daddy loves how wet this pussy gets. Is this all for me?”
“Yes, yes Sir it’s all for you- mm all yours!” You moan as you feel your climax fast approaching. “Please can I cum? Pleasee daddy!”
“Yes princess, cum for me.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you at such a tempo you have to hold onto his arms for stability.
As if someone opened a dam, your orgasm washes over you and you let out a stupified scream- you wanted to say his name but your brain is so scrambled all you can manage is a mumbled moan of incoherent syllables.
“Such a good girl baby, well done honey.” He plants kisses all over your cheek and neck as your heart rate climbs down.
As you come down from your high, the realisation of what you’re doing dawns on you. As if he could read your mind, he takes your face into his hands.
“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? If you think you’ll regret it, tell me now. I don’t think I could handle it if we made love and you woke up regretting it.” He speaks softly, as if being too harsh might scare you away.
“No, no it’s not you.” You quickly respond. “I just feel a little cheap. I don’t ever have one night stands so I’m kinda out of my depth here… and the guilty thoughts about Leia creeping up on me don’t help either.”
“Hey, you’re not cheap.” You scoff at his attempt to reassure you. “Stop that, I mean it. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you regardless of the outcome of this. But…I mean I’m out of my depth here too. If we’re being honest, I haven’t had sex in years.” Anakin admits and your jaw drops. How could a man this damn fine not get laid for that long?
“It’s a personal choice.” He corrects before you jump to any conclusions about what might be wrong with him. “I don’t like one night stands either and if I’m not in love, I have no real interest in sex.” Your heart leaps at the insinuation- if he’s willing to sleep with you, that must mean…right?
“So let’s not have a one night stand then.” He continues and your heart drops. I guess you thought wrong.
“Let’s keep seeing each other. I ache all over at the thought of this being the last time I see you. I need you in my life. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what people say. Leia will come round to the idea eventually, she has to.”
“I love you.” You reply a little too quickly, staring at him with so much admiration you think your heart might burst.
“I love you too, my sweet girl.”
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Part 2
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eumivrse · 4 months
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HOUSE OF CARDS : nanami kento
summary when nanami catches up to you in kuantan, he vowed to make it up to you for lost time.
warning(s) IMPLIED SHIBUYA INCIDENT SPOILERS!!! i tweaked it from canon obvi, nanami & reader are married, dirty talk, fingering, fem receiving oral, squirting, creampie, breeding, kitchen sex, lots of profanity, some fluff and angst !!
word count 4,435
note manifestation of ‘me and nanami are actually in malaysia rn’. also title inspo from house of cards by bts bc the song is angsty yet it sounds raunchy?!! that’s the intention !!!
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“You’re going to hurt your neck sleeping like that.” A familiar voice awoke you from your slight doze, blinking twice to see your husband crouched in front of you.
Tears welled up in your eyes, lips trembling as you clasp your arms around him. Sniffling against his chest, you crumple your hand on his blue button up, a way to convince yourself that this is real.
That he really made it out alive.
“I hate you.” You sob, jabbing at him with light punches. Fellow passengers exiting from their respective flights are staring at you two, but you couldn’t care less when a huge lump in your throat has been removed.
He pats the back of your head, your chin resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. Have you been waiting long?”
This trip has been something you mutually have been anticipating since last year. Your husband had always wanted to visit Malaysia and naturally, you decided that the first time you two will ever go out of the country as a married couple will be here at Kuantan.
Getting your schedules aligned for a 2-week long getaway— well, it wasn’t easy. Working as sorcerers under the jujutsu society doesn’t grant you much vacation time. After all, there’s not enough people to compensate for your absence if the both of you go under the radar for two weeks straight. And it definitely didn’t help that Kento is highly valued as a first grade sorcerer.
Your flight was scheduled for 8:30PM until he got a call saying he was needed at Shibuya urgently even though it has been settled months prior that he will be out of the country by this time. To say that you were livid that they even asked for him doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.
But of course, in his old Kento fashion way, he reassures you, “Go on the flight without me, love. I’ll catch up with you. I promise.” You knew his words were empty— you had an intuition especially since it was an urgent request and people’s lives were already on the line.
It was selfish for you to want him to ignore the calls that night but you knew there was a chance— even if it’s a mere 5% — that he would never be able to catch up with you.
His sweet voice convinced you enough to go on the flight anyways, but the 10 hour flight to Kuantan was the probably worst 10 hours you’ve had to live through in your life. Being on a plane with an empty seat next to you where your husband is supposed to be sitting had you thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts, your heart sunken. You damn near already prepared a eulogy in your head from the thoughts intruding your peace of mind.
It wasn’t until you were waiting at the airport that slumber had overtaken your paranoia and you fell asleep in one of the waiting areas near the boarding terminals, although uneasy.
“Is everything at Shibuya okay now?” You choke, face flushed with heat, eyes streaming with tears that had no sign of stopping any time soon.
“There are problems, but everyone’s fine. I don’t want you to worry about that right now, though.”
He presses a loving kiss on your forehead before parting from the hug and standing up from his knees.
He holds out his hand for you to grab onto. “Let’s go,” he looked so fatigued, but he couldn’t even think about his body crashing down on him when he’s just relieved that he’s able to see you again.
You take his hand, using the back of your free one to wipe your tears away. “Okay.”
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It was easy to find out why Kento was dreaming of this place. It was simple, yet the natural scenery was what made it so beautiful. Palm trees swaying along with the wind’s grace, the water in its crystal glory, reflecting onto the sky’s clementine hue, indicating the sun’s time to rise. You took your time to walk through the beach before settling in your rental, waves crashing across the shore far enough that it grazed your ankles.
Kento stood right where the seas met the land, letting his shoes get soaked despite it being completely out of his usual self. He’s very particular about keeping things neat, after all.
You lock your arm around his, gazing up to see him completely immersed with nature, eyes closed and head stretched back towards the sky. The bags under his eyes were apparent under the sun, the corner of his lip slightly upturning into a small smile. It’s not common to see him at such serenity considering he was just at the verge of death hours prior.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“This is everything I’ve ever wanted.” He cherishes, always having an appreciation for the simplest of things. If he could just run away and live here with you, away from the trauma he constantly experiences. He knows that’s not productive and that neither of you would actually approve of it, but he couldn’t care less about technicalities right now.
It’s a good change outside the chaos and turmoil you constantly experience at work and living in the city. The gentle breeze glides past Kento’s hair, and you stay still for a short while, taking advantage of this moment as it’s rare to do so back at home.
The vacation rental you chose was perfect— walking distance from the beach and all the local businesses. The owners even left a welcoming note for the both of you and complimentary slippers to walk around the house in. It’s nothing grand, but you preferred this over a resort to keep things relaxing.
Kento plopped himself down on the couch and you decided you wanted to explore around to find something to eat. The anxiety was eating you from the inside earlier and you swore you would have puked if you ate.
You quickly changed from your previous outfit which reeked of airport air to a sundress you thought would be perfect for the tropical weather. He was dozing off on the couch with his neck craned, arms crossed, face towards the ceiling with his eyes closed, so you sneaked out of the house with quiet footsteps.
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You came back just in time to see Kento in the same spot, except shirtless with a towel draped over his head. His damp hair gave you the impression that he had just taken a shower and you realize how long you took outside just to end up back here with a bag of Laksa and rice that you purchased from a nearby canteen.
Although it was safe to say that you got lost.
He was sitting with his elbows propped on his lap, fingers laced together like something was clouding his mind. “Are you hungry?” You ask as you walk across the living room and to the kitchen.
“Not necessarily,” he briefly replies. Exploring the cabinets for some plates, Kento got up from his position and helped you prepare the food by untying the plastic bags and pouring it on bowls. You set the food on the island, taking a step back and almost tripping on his foot, unaware that he was right behind you with utensils in hand.
You giggle and he chuckles while he places the silverware on the counter, one of his hands catching your shoulder. “Careful, love. Forks are no joke if they hit your eye.” You roll your eyes, finding it ironic that he’s so careful with forks knowing he’s seen you fight against things far more dangerous. Turning around, you only notice now that his bare chest is smeared with faint marks that resembled burn scars. It’s not uncommon for him to be wounded, but you always tend to get emotional when you see him hurt.
Concerned, you express your thoughts. “These look serious, are you okay?” You look up to meet his eyes, pursing your lips with the intent to suppress your tears. Trying to stay calm and collected was your way to not make Kento feel bad again, but how could that work when he already knew how you felt from the moment you asked?
He uses the tip of his thumb to catch the tear on your right eye before it even had the chance to trickle down. “I’m more than fine. Ms. Ieri got treated right away, it’s just that some of it is still healing.” His dulcet tone almost immediately made you feel a sense of tranquility as if his voice can make you forget all the problems in this cruel world.
“I’m glad,” you croak.
He leans down, eyes peering down your lips as he whispers gently, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore, okay?” And with that, he kissed you with a hint of longing and zeal, lips sealing onto yours with eagerness to go further. Your body had shifted due to his weight, your lower back hitting the ledge of the island, mouth opening into a small gasp. Kento grabbed that as an opportunity to shove his tongue inside as he curled his hands onto the edge of the counter to sandwich you in between.
Your hands roamed around his back, pulling him in closer that your chests are pressed against each other, tilting your head in intervals all while saliva started to seep out of your mouth from how messy and needy Kento seemed to be. You were tired— he’s tired, but the adrenaline rush of being under pressure for an extensive amount of time allotted you the energy to want something like this.
Kento is hungry, but not in the way you initially assumed.
You nibble on his bottom lip before he pulls away, his face rosy. “The bedroom— we should go there.” It was difficult to be coherent when you’re growing impatient and in heat, hiding the wet spot forming under your pretty little sundress.
He refuses by grabbing onto the back of your thighs and picking you up, placing you on the quartz counter. Your arms are laced around his neck, tucking your lips with enticement at how he was able to pick you up so swiftly when you don’t necessarily consider yourself light. He shakes his head, “I wanna have my food now though.”
Rolling your eyes, you giggle in embarrassment, “You’re a damn tease, Kento.” After all, nothing else could satisfy his cravings and relieve his pent up stress besides you.
He did the honors of lifting your dress up, seeing the huge spot of your arousal apparent on your panties. You hold onto the hem of the garment as he pinches on the garter of your underwear, pulling them down all the way, then letting it fall past your ankle and on the wooden floor. Your cunt glistened with slick already running down the middle of your slit, Kento collecting it with his index and middle finger before spreading it all over your folds. Legs trembling with anticipation, you twitch when he taunts your pussy by inflicting force on your sensitive clit with the tips of his fingers.
You hum, “Are you done playing with me yet?” He slips his fingers under and down where your hole is, pushing them in and letting you adjust around it before kneeling on the floor, so he could be eye-level with your cunt.
He blinks towards you, eyes glued onto yours as he spreads your legs apart with his free hand. “Not playing with you, baby. Just making sure you’ll feel comfortable.” Kento reveres as he pulls his fingers out from your hole to replace it with his tongue. Your upper body leans back as reflex, palms placed on the surface of the counter to keep leverage.
You cry out moans of his name mixed with a few curses as he switches between giving your clit small kisses and licking you all over your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Ken’. You’re making me go crazy…” It also didn’t help that he would look you in the eye periodically as he slides his tongue all along your slit. Just seeing him in between your legs with slick smeared on his cheeks was more than enough to make you cum.
Likewise, Kento’s shorts were starting to feel rigid, his cock rock hard under the tight confines of his clothes. Hell, he feels like he might cum now before he even gets the chance to do anything with it. He takes a pause, teasing your throbbing hole by flicking his index finger against it. He coos, “So beautiful…” Gazing up to meet you eye to eye again as he suctioned his lip against your clit, sucking on it like there’s no tomorrow. He wondered for a moment why he was even dreaming of Kuantan when he already gets the best view in between your legs whenever he wishes to.
One of the spaghetti straps of your dress fell loose on your shoulder, your tit almost peeking through the sorry excuse of a paper thin fabric. You take a chunk of his hair to pull onto as Kento pushes the base of your ass, giving him more allowance to make sure no drop of arousal is left wasted by catching it with his tongue. Heat rushed up to your cheeks as you threw your head back, snapping your eyes shut for a quick second before whimpering his name.
It probably isn’t smart to be so loud when the town is just getting started with their day at 9 in the morning, waking them up with noises you’d only hear at the dead of night. You could only pray that these walls are thick enough to mask the lewd noises from your neighbors.
A puddle of drool and slick pooled right below you as Kento proceeded to shove your thighs apart, not letting them get near each other to keep you wide open. He spits on your cunt, watching his drool drip down your ass while he aligns his fingers back against your hole, slipping them in as he continues to lick your clit.
You suck your breath in, “Kento, please, please, please—! Keep going—“ He had to chuckle in amusement that you’re already so worked up when he’s barely even begun, shoving his fingers in and out of your slippery pussy, far enough that you feel the desperate need to release.
He exhales, keeping his digits in steady speed, “Need you to cum all over my tongue, baby.” That request was a little selfish from his end, rushing you to your orgasm as he plunged his fingers in deep enough that clear liquid projectiled out your hole. You screamed his name while he used his mouth to slurp it all off, giving your clit small little pecks in between to ease you from your release.
His knees were sore as he stood up, coarse hands massaging your inner thighs as you wiped his chin with your thumb. “Are you okay?” He asks, sweeping his hands up to your waist then your shoulders.
“Mhm,” you hum, still trying to catch your breath.
He examines your state, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face. “Was this the dress I picked?” He pinches the loose strap on your shoulder and you nod.
“Yeah, and the one you paid for.” You wink.
He slowly lowers the strap on both sides, letting the dress fall enough for your titties to spill out, nipples all cute and perky. “It looks perfect on you, honey. But do you wanna know something?” He leans in closer to your face, his breath puffing against the tip of your nose.
“Hm?” Your curiosity is piqued, although you were becoming impatient with the growing need of him inside you. You knew he was holding it off as a way to taunt you.
“I think you’d look better with it off.” He whispers cheekily.
You look up with a scrunched face, half out of flattery and the other because of his crassness. “You’re so filthy,” you giggle, but you weren’t going to deny the throb of your pussy when he said those words.
He chuckles with a low gruff before locking his lips with yours, tugging you closer by gripping onto the side of your ass. You hop off the counter for a moment, parting from Kento with bated breath as you frantically shed the rest of your clothes off, leaving you bare. Not being able to get a good view prior, you finally see the tent poking through his shorts.
With a faint voice, you egg him on, “Need your cock inside me, Ken.” Cupping his clothed bulge, you graze your hand in a slow up and down motion, your husband cursing under his breath. You close in the space in between you, lips just right against his neck. “I want your cum shoved deep inside me, wouldn’t you like that too?” With a kiss on the crook of his neck, he could see that smug grin plastered on your face from the corner of his eye. You knew the weight of your words and how much that affects him. If he hadn’t had the self control he could’ve came right here and now.
He seethes, trying his best to save himself from the embarrassment. “Such a dirty girl you are.” When he grabs the back of your thighs, you use that as a gesture to leap back up on the counter, lacing your arms around his neck to keep him near.
You pout, “I learned from the best.”
Kento pulls his shorts down along with his boxers, his fat cock springing out, tip all pink and angry with translucent pre smeared on the surface. Your pupils dilate at the sight even though you’ve seen this in more scenarios than you can begin to imagine. His size has always been intimidating, biting your lip out of anticipation and slight nervousness.
With your legs already wide open, he presses the curve of his cock against your folds, sliding it up and down to warm himself up, his tip poking on your clit. Kento praises, “You’re so pretty,” cupping your cheek as he uses his free hand to align his cock right on your hole, pushing himself inside of you as slowly as possible.
You were squeezing onto him and he watched how your eyes knocked at the back of your head, mouth agape. Your cunt was sucking him in so well, it didn’t take long for him to thrust to the hilt, grunting from how tight you were. “Holding up okay?” He asks, hands wandering from your waist to your boobs, putting pressure on them with his palms to massage you, coaxing you to his size.
Your breath was shaky as you responded with a laugh tinged with an anxious tone, “Yeah… let’s stay like this for a minute.” You felt so full, you swear you could feel the veins on his cock pulsing against your walls.
“Okay, love. Take your time.” He presses a delicate kiss on your forehead. As soon as he flicks his thumbs on your nipples, you tightened around him again followed with a squeal slipping past your lips.
Your arms are still hung around his neck, using that to pull his face closer to yours. You could see every detail of his face from his prominent cheekbones to a few tiny red scratches he probably obtained from his mission earlier. You faintly hum, “I love you so much, Kento.” He smiles at that, his cheeks flaring a light pink tint. “I love you even more, sweetheart.”
A prompt, yet languid kiss closes off any other distance you may have had and you break away not long after just to give him the green light. “I’m ready now.”
Kento pulls his dick out halfway, then takes his sweet time to thrust it back in, testing the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting you. Your thighs tremble as he pulls away even further the second time, to the point where only the tip is inside. Sighing at how hollow you felt, you nearly choked on your gasp when he suddenly stuffed you full of cock.
Your jaw hinged open, Kento holding onto the back of your knees to bend your legs and spread them outwards to resist your urge to clamp them close. He moves his hips in slow, yet deep strokes, his balls pressing up on your ass with each thrust. He keeps your head from falling backwards by grabbing the back of your neck with one of his hands, fingers pressing on the sides. Your cunt was fluttering around him, staring at his face perspiring with sweat from his conscious efforts.
He looks up, meeting your eyes. His damp hair was sticking to his forehead, his bare chest rosy from this heated moment. Your eyes are glazed over, half lidded as if you’re already drunk on his cock. From the moment he sheathed into you, you already knew walking properly wasn’t going to be an option for at least the next day. He praises, “You’re taking me in so well, love. So well…” He places his hand on your tummy, pressing over the soft pudge of your stomach.
You squirm, your lips were moving, but not a word actually came out, just feeble whimpers and moans as drool dribbled from the corner of your lips. The sun was shining a little too brightly across the kitchen window, somehow it felt dirtier to be doing this in broad daylight, let alone in the kitchen. “Wanna…” you start, pausing for a moment when the head of his cock plunged further in your cunt than just a second before. “Fuck, hah— Kiss me—“
It’s not like you gave him a choice anyways when you drew him back in for a sloppy kiss. You were eager, sticking your tongue out for his to swirl around with. He groans into your mouth when he picks up the pace, slamming his cock fast and deep enough that his pelvis would press against your tummy. He grips on the plump of your ass to keep you in place and you wince the rougher he would fuck into you. You teased him by digging your teeth onto his bottom lip, in which he murmured a slurry curse in response.
You were being split in half, the slight curve of his cock making you feel like it’s nudging through your abdominal walls. Kento seemed like the composed one as he kept consistent with the speed of his hips, fast enough to keep you on your toes, but also slow enough so that you aren’t in pain. Although the thoughts running through his mind don't pale in comparison to you.
Kento is fucking obsessed with everything about you. He almost came earlier just eating you out and he hadn’t even been touched at that point yet. The saliva running down your chin, your lashes fluttering as you moan into his mouth — oh god he truly thinks you’re the most precious thing on earth. He felt nothing but guilt making you go through hell by letting you go on the plane with ambiguity if he’ll be safe or not, so this was really the least he could do to make up for it.
You part from him, a thick strand of saliva snapping the connection between the two of you. He curved his cock up enough that it prodded your g-spot and it was obvious he did when you gasped, the sharp stream of air reaching your throat nearly making you cough. “Right there, fuck yes, just like that baby—“ you moan, Kento pounding his cock into you over and over, making sure he hits that spot again until you let loose.
His balls are throbbing with the sole desire to empty inside of you, his cum just sitting on his tip, waiting to fill you full. He grunts, “Want me to cum inside? Hm?” You nod feverishly, curling your upper lip into your lower.
Kento has a bruising grip on your ass that you knew for sure would leave that spot sore after this. He snaps his hips, just waiting for you to release already, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. Blood rushed through your cheeks as you mewled a soft ‘Kento’ before reaching your high.
He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “Oh yeah, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Feeling the sudden warmth around him, Kento’s hips stuttered, the compression of your cunt milking him dry. He lazily drew circles on your clit to help you come down from your orgasm and with your arms still locked around him, you pulled him back, his forehead clashing onto yours. “I love you.” You grin meekly.
“I love you more,” he repeats, keeping himself buried inside you, draining all his cum in your pussy ensuring that not a drop is left wasted. You let go of your embrace and he holds your waist as he pulls out, his cock pearled with a mix of your slick and his cum.
White, thick cum leaked out of your hole and Kento plugged his thumb back in your walls to shove it back in. You shiver when he took it out and placed it over your lips, willingly lolling your tongue out to take kitten licks on his finger.
You almost fell to your knees when you stepped off the counter, your husband catching you by the arms. “I don’t think we can go out later.” You laugh the ache off, referring to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to walk.
He holds your hand and kisses the top of your head when you are able to stand up straight. “That’s fine. Let’s just catch up on sleep today.”
“So do you still want that food over there?” You tilt your head towards the Laksa you purchased earlier. Kento takes a glance towards the other side of the counter where it sat and laughs, “Well now that we’ve kicked up our appetites, that’s looking really good right now.” You look at the surface you were just getting fucked on and realize how gross and sticky you feel right now.
“After I take a shower.” You smile with a flustered expression.
“Want me to start you a bath?” He offers, bending down and using his free hand to pick up clothes that were scattered on the floor.
You squeeze his hand, limping in wobbly steps as you lead him to the bathroom. “Only if you’re going with me!”
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