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#boy of so many parents its what he deserves
kineticallyanywhere · 9 months
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Hunter OwlHouse 🤝 The Fix Mentopolis
intimidating you with knowledge
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kazoologist · 9 days
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congratulations to Mme. Pascale Leclerc, who has surely just experienced both the funniest and most unhinged weekend a mother could ever have. Dear fucking christ, I hope your middlest son brought you a bottle of champagne for yourself, ma'am.
#kazoo noises#charles leclerc#cl16#monaco gp 2024#zoomies posting#sports posting#like man. where to begin. one of your racecar children is back in town for the weekend. he has yet to have a truly good work#weekend it seems in town. now this year. we're feeling ourselves a bit. we're feeling optimistic even. and then ur son becomes talk of town#because he keeps doing fucking bits on twitter about adopting his coworker who is friends with your youngest son. this goes on long enough#for actual reporters to comment on it. no one is willing to blink first so by friday night we've yes-anded ourselves to a grandson#(congratulations mme leclerc)#things go well. and then at qualifying they go DAMN WELL#BETTER THAN EVER REALLY! but man. im superstitious. i dont trust shit until its over and the dust has cleared#(the adoption jokes have continued by the way) and MEANWHILE everyone is eyeing that starting grid. were humming. we're making vague hand#gestures when commenting. we're all thinking. Maybe? (the streets can hear u tho. keep it down)#race starts. lap one CHAOS. so many fucking crashes. i'd faint if i had a child even in karting honestly.#(every parent in this sport deserves a prescription for laudanum)#but he's not in it. hes at the front. and he. well. he just Stays There. Through It All. and the laps tick down. until the race is run. and#there he is. your middlest son. cross the line and into the books. first place. home town. what curse indeed. thats your boy!!!!!!!! THERE!#they play the radio of him winning and the audio is peaked because he screams out so loudly. you can hear the water in the laughter.#later theres gonna be videos and photos taken of him pushing his boss into the harbor and diving right in after the man. those photos are#gonna be fucking studied in photography classes one day. and STILL! everyone involved with that goofy joke about him adopting his coworker#(who. despite all the silliness of the race stayed second place and got a podium) is still carrying the bit like a baton relay. Do you have#him over for family dinner? might as well add a plate i guess! people are joking about your youngest son having two nephews? a dog born#maybe a month ago and a man born about... what twenty three years and about a month ago? fuck it! family dinner#sorry this bit got away from me but as someone who loves my homecity and my mom so much it might actually be like.#a visible growth inside my body if they do an autopsy on me at time of death or like. my love will eat me alive. sometimes the charratives#gets to me#anyway cheers mme leclerc i hope you party so fucking hard this week
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ystrike1 · 3 months
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Corrupted by the Mercenary King - By Okonogi happa (8/10)
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What happens when you push kindness to the limit? Our protagonist princess always tries her best, but her family just sees her as a pretty body. An item to be bought and sold. A violent Mercenary King wants her, but her family thinks he's not rich enough. He invades the country, and she accepts his twisted love to escape her cruel life.
It hurts.
It hurts to do good and be rewarded with pain. Estelle is a caring princess in an uncaring, perverse castle.
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Her parents literally tell her to dance in skimpy outfits for their guests.
Her own brother tells her she can "visit his room" if she wants to.
It's implied that she is a nurse/doctor and she helps people when she can, and this is her only escape from the perverts who own her future.
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One of her many suitors, The Mercenary King, comes when she falls into a deep depression. She always cries alone in her room, alone in this world. Surrounded by people who see her as a womb for some future heir.
She falls deeper into despair. The King is insulted. He sent many generous proposals, but Estelle's greedy family wanted more.
He decided to invade. The people...Estelles only source of strength...burn in droves below her.
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Dante is so excited to see her.
She doesn't remember him at all.
Its been so long, and she's been too depressed. He was once a boy who blushed at the sight of her.
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The violence escalates quickly. Dante says he's here for her. Not her land or her money or some future heir.
He loves her.
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He's super freaky and toxic about it.
He wants Estelle to know that he is the only one who loves her.
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The proof is his body.
He went to war to increase his fame and power. To become someone who could conquer a castle.
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He knows she is so desperate to be loved.
By someone, anyone, that doesn't just see her as the pretty princess everyone wants.
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He proves it.
He kills the king and the queen and every rich guest they have ever hosted. All to prove he just came for Estelle. Only Estelle.
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Her kindness melts away, and she decides to be selfish for once in her life.
Why not?
Kindness never got her the love she deserved.
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bluerosefox · 5 months
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Our Well Deserved Break
Its
Shenanigans (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Time again!~
-x-x-
Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.
This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!
Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.
An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...
Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."
"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.
This was totally going to be fun!
-x-x-
When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.
He smiled and said
"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."
Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.
"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"
After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.
Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)
"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."
Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'
"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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'Tis the time for cuddles -141
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^COD men bc they are so cute and deserve this
Based on a request:
Hi, could I request a 141 cuddle pile on a cold fall morning with platonic reader? It could be gender neutral or fem, up to you. :) ---GN!Reader, fluff, platonic!relationship, cuddling --- A/N: Niall Horan is the reason I write fluff tbh…so let's thank my favourite husband
Autumn, the season for the golden leaves, pumpkin lattes, cardigans, the snuggle you get to your blankets on cold mornings and this moment right here, cuddling your teammates. You were in the middle. Your head on Price's lap, Soap getting caressed by your soft touch and on your right side, his head on your chest. Gaz between your thighs, smiling now and then when your hand would scratch his head. Ghost on your left, head on your stomach and looking up with puppy eyes if you stopped playing with his hair. This was the only time he took his mask off, just in the comfort of your room and with his mates.
"Price," you look up, begging for more head rubs. He chuckles, "You're so needy and for what," he pretends to be annoyed but smiles when your face softens from his touch. It's peace for once in your life. You can't control most things in this life, not where you get deployed, not where you die, not how you die and how you live on as a soldier. Yet, there is one thing that can be controlled, this, this moment right here with your people. The fucked up family you made along the way, the soldiers that find reasons to finally let go and sleep in the comfort of your bed. A tight cuddle, trying to keep anyone from falling off the bed but it's nice.
It's not perfect, nothing will ever be perfect and yet for a moment in this life, being in bed, cuddled on a chilly autumn morning, is the closest it gets to perfection. You sigh, content with the life you've been given. No wars, no grenades thrown, explosives scattering bodies or blood on the walls, it was just a cosy room. A room, filled with snores, warmth, too many body parts begging to be comforted and you, in the middle of such a beautiful moment. "Sleep," Ghosy whispers as his thumb caresses your tummy. You smile and then Soap nuzzles his face to your neck.
"Don't leave me out," Gaz whispers and you nod. "Like I ever would," you smile and he hums happily. His face is now on your tummy, Ghost tries to move him aside so he could be the one on your soft tummy. "Stop mate- R/N, tell 'im to stop," Ghost looks up at you like a child looking at its parent. "Boys," you say in such a way they look at each other and nod. "Sorry," they both mumble and coexist as they comfort themselves with you.
This is how the day is, you all get up, hair all messy and Price keeps snoring loudly. For the first time, everyone has a lazy day, with takeout for lunch and takeout with beers for dinner. Conversations about life, memories, lazy laughter, promises for the future and memories for old soldiers to tell their grandkids. All in one day, a life far from their usual, just for one day.
Tags:
@airghostlyfox @aethelwyneleigh27 @liyanahelena
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ihatehomework · 2 months
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yall i miss jily😭😭😭 not like its gone but like the marauders used to be so happy sunshine gryffindor vibes. but also i feel like we collectively all forget how much james potter HATED slytherin. idk i also think that yes death eaters were humans BUT they also killed so many people like are we forgetting that barty crouch jr literally tortured alice and frank longbottom he is at fault for neville growing up without his parents😭 i genuinely think that people forget that evan, barty etc. actually killed people and killed people who were probably friends with the marauders. ik that everyone deserves a second chance but seriously???? do you actually think that the rosiers were good people and didn't hate and discriminate against muggleborns??? NOT EVERYONE HAS A TRAGIC BACKSTORY IDK SOME OF THEM ARE JUST EVIL. the way everyone defends evan rosier (love his character but i have beef with the way he gets away with being a death eater later on) but snape, who i absolutely detest, hate and think should have died earlier, who also actually did something that was not evil in his lifetime, is the most hated marauders character like????? and the black sisters???? yes love a complex female character but are we seriously trying to redeem bellatrix? do we not remember WHAT SHE SCARED ON HERMIONE LIKE WHAT. and love the newer marauders fandom but everyones so emo and depressed this is supposed to be FUN. also the characters feel so ooc. everytime i see casanova remus lupin im like 'huh thats supposed to be sirius and james???' love remus but my boy aint rizzing anyone up hes a shy af introvert. and jegulus is so cute but remember that james is #no.1slytherinhater and he was absolutely smitten with lily evans FROM THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. REMEMBER WHEN JILY WAS THE BACKBONE OF THE MARAUDERS? like they ate fr. this became a whole ass paragraph damn i did not know i had so much to say about this. i can lowkey already sniff the comments or thoughts saying 'oh let us have our fun its just a story' im not stopping you this is just my opinion. 'oh none of this is actually proven' please give me a break😭🙏 like most of the source material goes against the fandoms perception of the marauders. 'fuck jkr we'll do what we want' youve basically just made 10 million ocs and give them names of characters like im eating up all the marauders content but genuinely can we go back to the happier times??
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peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, dom!eddie, bratty!reader, squirting, anal play, angry jealous sex, garage sex, throatfucking, angst, aftercare, fluffy ending
summary: following the events of good boy, eddie finds himself conflicted about your relationship. when he catches a case of the jealousy bug, eddie just has to show you how much you actually mean to him.
note: thank you for the love on good boy! this can be read as a oneshot, but i do highly recommend reading its predecessor here!
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Eddie is on cloud fucking nine. He can’t get enough of you. Not really. Five out of his seven days are spent in the fantasyland that is the suburban neighborhood of Hawkins, the remaining two saved for warm nights downtown together — wind in your hair as you’d lean out the window of the van that has become a near-second home, tired eyes shut in bliss, Eddie’s hand on your thigh or, occasionally, your smaller hand on his.
Kisses at the red-light. Kisses at a stop sign. Kisses when Eddie has to pull over to the side of the highway after you’d arch a brow and let the words “road head?” spill from your mischievous, grinning lips. 
You insatiable girl, he’d growl out.
To which, you’d reply: My good boy.
There’s something different in your friendship — or, relationship? He doesn’t know what this is, but he knows that it’s real. And maybe that’s what confuses him the most, that this arrangement lives outside of those stark white-picket fences, more than just hot afternoons on the yard or late evenings inside the back of the van. Still just as perfect as the day he looked at you, really looked at you.
Mine?
He can’t call you that. But he can call you a plethora of things. Sweetheart. Laid out on the hood of your car or back arching against crumpled blankets, knees tucked to your hickey-tattered breasts as Eddie sinks his cock into your puffy cunt after three already tantalizing rounds, he’ll call you sweetheart then. Baby. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, tears blurring your vision as Eddie shoves your stubborn head further, the light curls of his happy trail tickling your nose as you spend minutes of torturous pleasure gagging wetly around his base and balls till you can’t breathe, he’ll whimper out a desperate baby then. 
Honey. Babe. Slut. Minx. Doll. Angel.
Eddie can call you many things, but he cannot call you his. Just as you cannot call him yours, as much as he dreams of you doing so. As much as he’d let you. You wouldn’t even need to ask.
But maybe there’s hope for him. After all, you couldn’t possibly just be fucking him just to fuck him, right? 
Or perhaps, is he that stupid for thinking he actually stands a legitimate chance with the girl next door? In an arrangement that consisted more than fucking, than meeting at night, than sneaking out behind your parents’ back because he’s a bad rap?
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins who deserves dates at Enzo’s rather than quick stops at twenty-four hour diners, who deserves more than rusty vans and makeshift beds in the backseat, who deserves more than stick-and-poke tattoos and drugstore cologne. The girl next door who deserves more than a metalhead who works at a record store and lives in a goddamn trailer park.
Eddie is eternally fucked.
He is also even more eternally fucked because he knows there’s a large part of him that can’t even fathom the idea of you with another guy. Another boy who’d spent five out of his seven days with you in the suburbs. Another boy who’d act like he knew your body as well as Eddie did — and Eddie knows your body, knows how much pressure you need on your clit to cum, knows what kind of kisses makes you desperately press your tits against his chest, knows how to angle your leg just above your head so he can hit that favorite gushy spot, knows how to calm you down with snacks and beer after just one orgasm or three. 
He can feel the last weeks of summer dwindling down. 
Yet, the sun is still attuned to a blinding wash of golden, the birds loud, grass still greener on this side of Hawkins. 
And you still take Eddie’s breath away everytime you walk down that front porch. Denim shorts, a studded belt that’s actually become yours more than his, a black Corroded Coffin tank and that damned pair of red Chucks… but yeah, you’re totally not his girlfriend. 
So why is he seething at the visual of you bent over the hood of your car, sudsy sponge in hand as you scrub at your new Corvette while Steve fucking Harrington hovers around you like an irritating fly around forbidden fruit? 
Except, is it forbidden if he knows exactly how it tastes?
Fuck. Eddie’s fist clenches around the steering wheel of his van, knuckles turning alabaster as you make — what he assumes — a variation of your witty one-liners that causes Steve to throw his head back in a booming laugh, so loud that it echoes through the bustling streets of young children riding their bikes and playing hopscotch.
You’re funny. But not that funny.
Eddie knows you’re allowed to have friends. He knows that. He also knows that Steve Harrington isn’t a threat. They’re buddies for Ozzy’s sake, but could you even blame him? 
Harrington, who was the star of the highschool basketball team. Harrington, who lives two blocks down in a fancy two-story house with a fucking pool. Harrington, who’s popular with all the ladies and has charisma like a true gentleman. Harrington, who is the definition of Hawkins’ beloved boy next door. 
And what a perfect pair you two could be if Eddie just removed himself from the equation. 
“Boo!” 
You slam your palm against the van’s windshield, chuckling heartily with crossed arms as Eddie jumps at the sudden disturbance. There’s a youthful crinkle by your eyes, lashes fluttering wildly against your cheeks as the dark-haired brunette scoffs at you and cranks the window down with a flexing jaw. “The hell, Y/N…”
You giggle at the slight twinge of irritation in Eddie’s tone of voice, wringing your fingers together against your stomach as you playfully narrow your eyes at him accusingly. “Were you spying on us, Munson?” A gasp falls from your rose-tinted lips. “And here I was thinking we finally got over that phase.”
Bashfully, he massages the nape of his neck. “Well, when you’re bending over the hood like that…”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” You fire back immediately, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you regard him affectionately with a knowing smirk. “Am I under… arrest for just trying to clean my oh-so-dirty car?” Your face scrunches into a theatrical worry, “Damnit, will I be serving time, mister?”
Maybe you are that funny. 
“You really wanna hear the damage?” Eddie winces, slowly reaching over and tucking a wisp of hair behind your ear, bright dopey irises following the movement of your pursed lips. “Tsk, it’s not looking good for you, ma’am. Five years on one count of bribery. Another five on one count of indecent exposure. Under the state of sex and drugs, I hereby must declare you guilty of all two counts, miss Y/N. Behind bars you go!”
You bite your tongue, the muscle poking from between your front teeth as you prop your forearm up on the window and rest your chin on it. He could absolutely kiss you right now. Kiss you in front of Harrington. Kiss you in front of the whole damn town and make his worries all go away. Kiss you until the entire universe knows you’re his.
“You won’t even let me make a statement?” You whisper airily, voice rasping through your permanent fixture of a giddy smile as you hold Eddie’s gaze, tiptoeing so that your level with his eyes. 
“Another three for coercion, woman.”
“So it’s working, then?” You quirk your head at him curiously, lips twitching with excitement. “And since when were you… so in tune with the law, Eds?”
He brushes a relaxed knuckle over your cheek. “Never said I was, sweetheart. Just on the watch for dangerous girls like you, yeah? Total heartbreakers.”
That shuts you up. 
Eddie’s heart blossoms at your falter, the slight part in your lips as a shaky sigh leaves you and fills the intimate air. It’s warranted — given that you’ve been nonstop fuck buddies for the past couple months already. There hasn’t been a day where he hasn't touched you in some heated, loving manner. Although, maybe you’re confusing loving with sensual. Who knows?
You step back, recovering from your flustered speechlessness before you’re making a beeline for your car. “You gonna come out and say hi, Metallica? Or are you just gonna keep watchin’ from there?”
And to Eddie’s dismay, Steve is still propped against the side of your Corvette, honey eyes squinting past the sunlight as he watches the metalhead finally take reluctant steps to your driveway.
“Hey, man! What’s up?” He wants to play friendly? Oh, he’ll play friendly then. Steve claps a gentle hand against Eddie’s shoulder, grinning widely. “You taking Dustin to the arcade today, or am I?”
“Nah, nah. I just…” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly, stuffing his clammy palms into his back pockets with one eye shut. “… was in the area. Wanted to, uh, you know… just drop off some records for Y/N. Huge sale at the store today.”
“Yeah? Shit, might stop by.”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.”
Totally not.
The conversation doesn’t get much better from there. In fact, Steve nearly ignores him for the rest of the time being as the yellow-shirt fiend follows you around your car like a dumb, lost puppy. Eyes drifting over the sweaty back of your neck as you reach over the hood, tongue darting out to lick his lips as you mindlessly wipe at the soap on your arms or your legs while chatting him up.
Eddie knows desire and he sees it clear as the goddamn day on Harrington’s stupid face. He knows his friend means no harm, that this — whatever this is — is far from a competition, just two guys with a similar admiration for a pretty, smart-mouthed girl.
Fuck off, man. Anyone but her.
Eventually, Steve leaves. Something about Robin still not having her license and needing a ride to this girl’s house. But his stay lingers for more than it should and god, is it painful to watch. A quick, cheeky hug, arms encircling your waist. A blushing cheek nuzzling the top of your head. A giggly whisper to your ear that makes you laugh hard into his neck. A soft exchange of ‘I’ll see you soon.’ and ‘Call me, Y/N.’
You pull the garage door down behind you.
And somehow, you’re still able to turn to Eddie and look at him as if that whole interaction wasn’t a total slap in the face. Hands on your hips as you approach him, sponge discarded on the roof of the car, dimples tugging at your cheeks as you lean beside him — almost nostalgic as the first day you spoke — and cross your ankles out in front of you with a questioning tilt of your head.
“You’re quiet.” Your elbow nudges him. “That’s a first.”
He scoffs exasperatedly under his breath, fiddling with the chain across his belt loops with a self-wallowing shrug. “Mm, well, there wasn’t much room for me to talk back there.”
You watch him, smile fading awkwardly as you pick at your nails. “Okaaay, um…” 
“I had no idea that you and Steve were even close. Let alone… talked to each other. I mean, should’ve… should’ve expected it given you two live in this fairytale bubble together.” He laughs, dry and far from genuine.
There’s a heavy, uncomfortable tension that hangs in the air. Wafting between the two of you. Filling the empty gap between your anxious bodies. It irks you. His tone, the dull edge of it. The screech of nails against chalkboard.
You itch at the bridge of your nose, glancing away when Eddie turns to look at you. “We’re just friends. Always have been.”
Always have been. He should have known. Always have been — even when you were fucking, even when he took you to those diners and searched for you backstage at his tiny gigs, even when he taught you how to drive in his janky van, even when he made all those mixtapes for you. 
All of that just to get an always have been, while Eddie himself remains a never will be.
“Fuck…” He chuckles venomously, wiping his hands on his thighs as he storms off towards the garage, while you follow hot behind his aggravated trail. “Okay, Y/N.”
Why did he ever get his hopes up?
“Is there — hey, what is your goddamn problem, Eddie?” You pull at his shoulder, scowling as he pries himself away from your touch like you’ve burned him. It baffles you, eyebrows falling in a blunt unfathomable line as Eddie sends you a look that can only mean: don’t. Don’t what? Don’t care? Don’t talk to me? Don’t speak? “What’s gotten into you? We were fine earlier, no?”
“I dunno, you tell me.”
“I-Is this about Harrington? Eddie, I don’t even know why you’re upset… listen, me and Steve are literally just friends, I told you before and I’m telling you again.” A dry laugh slips out of you, “There’s just — we share a lot in common, okay? He lives, like, just down the road, we were in sixth grade together, our parents get along, he — get this — he likes The Cure, and it’s just… we just work. Friends, end of story.”
“And us?” 
“Us.” You repeat. Borderline incredulous. Perplexed. “I’m so confused right now. Hold on—“
“What does all… that make us?” Eddie turns quickly on his heels, closing the gap between the two of you as he gestures passionately with raised brows, lips tugging into a poisonous laugh. “Because it sounds like we’re just having fun and wasting each other’s time, Y/N.”
You gape at him, widening your eyes and tilting your chin up in defiance. “Isn’t that exactly what we’re fucking doing?” You snarl, canines on display as you poke at his sternum. He inhales deeply, watching the ferocity in your gaze heighten. “I don’t know if you’ve ever realized, but I am not your girlfriend, not some fantasy that—“
“Don’t.” He interrupted with a growling snap, your ego rising progressively with the determination to defend yourself.
“You can use to escape…”
“Really? Christ, really? What, like you haven’t been playing pretend with me either? When you have this — this perfect life with a perfect car and your perfect prince charming and your perfect neighborhood.” Eddie drawls mockingly, stretching the dramatics of his voice for emphasis. You hold each other’s stare, eyes coated with a film of indignation. “What’s the perfect girl next door wanna do with me anyways…”
Your face falls, breath hitching in your throat as you feel your chest tighten immensely. “You’re being mean, Eds.”
“Open your eyes, Y/N!” He retaliates with a menacing step forward, head tipping to watch the flicker of emotions across your daunting features. “You basically said it yourself. That Steve has everything that I-I don’t and if that’s what you want…”
“Is that what you really think of me?” 
Oh.
Oh.
He’s hurt you.
In an effort to spew out all of his own doubts, his feelings, his insecurities, Eddie wounded you. Had he not realized the weight of his words? The loaded gun he had been waving around all this time, letting himself snap only for you to get caught in the crossfire of his (valid) fears? He’s fucked up. Royally. And judging by the quiver in your bottom lip, the welling tears of frustration in your eyes, the bitter frown that’s taken over your once sweet-smile, he’s struck a bad nerve. 
A harsh blizzard in the summertime. A rainy day while the sun shines. A thunderstorm amongst a blue sky. Beauty in the madness.
Even when you’re angry, you devastate him.
“Sweetheart…”
You keep him at arm’s length. Guarded. Distant. The walls he had been so eager to break at the beginning of summer had rebuilt themselves right in front of him without difficulty as you looked away, pained. “Don’t sweetheart me.”
“I got… listen, I got carried away back there and I just…” 
“Fuck you, Eddie.”
All clarity has left his head. He’s too far gone into this, too deep into the grave he dug for himself, six feet under and somehow he still keeps digging and digging. 
What’s a little more salt to an already open wound?
Eddie stalks over towards you with a chilling swiftness, invading your personal space and trapping you against the hood of your car. “Fuck me, huh? Yeah, cause that’s what you do best, Y/N.” He repeats sarcastically, the words dripping from his quirked lips and seeping into the warmth of your skin. 
His voice holds a rasp to it, one that makes your body react in ways that are neither appropriate or helpful. Get a goddamn grip.
“Yeah? Sorry, am…” You challenge, feeling Eddie’s body drive into yours. Can’t get distracted. Can’t. It’s wrong, especially when your argument is — oh, he’s hard. His erection throbs against your thigh, stiff denim pressing against naked skin. “… am I the one who’s too pussy to put a label on whatever the hell this is?”
“I’m the pussy?” He pushes. You push back. “Says the spoiled little princess who has to sneak out at night because she’s scared mommy and daddy are gonna find out she’s been messing around with someone other than prince charming.” He bites out cruelly. “Who’s the pussy now?”
No backing out this time.
“And yet, you seem to have a lotta trouble staying away from a tight, wet cunt and a girl who’ll suck you off.”
“Oh, fuck off, Y/N.” The heavy aggression makes the hairs on your arms prickle, the inherent awareness that Eddie has you trapped, nowhere to escape this poisonous confrontation, makes you squeeze your thighs together. 
He exhales raggedly, recovering from the large blow that you just threw at him. 
“Did I stutter?” 
He blinks at you. “You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?” You almost growl, a cruel laugh slipping past your lips in an effort to say — don’t even try me, but Eddie’s turning you around forcefully and bending you at the waist with a hand between your shoulder blades, the other hovering over your ass before you can even say anything. “A tight cunt, huh? Is that what you wanna be? Just a tight, wet cunt for me to use whenever I fucking want because I’m — what was it again? — too pussy to put a label on this?”
“Munson, don’t you fucking—“ You glare at him over your shoulder, gasping as he tugs your shorts down and warms his palm over your outer thigh, leisurely bringing it over a soft ass cheek before a loud, erotic slap fills the garage. 
The surprised moan that leaves your body betrays you.
The fucking audacity of him to spank you? After all of that? After everything you just spewed at each other?
Eddie fucking laughs in your ear, studying the way you take your fleshy bottom lip between your teeth and a wave of embarrassment floods your face. “I bet you’re soaked right now. Bet you’re getting off on how upset I am with you, sweetheart. That’s kinda fucked up, don’t you think?” His knee nudges itself between your thighs, the cool edge of the car digging into your stomach while a familiar needy heat fills your cunt. “Yeah, I fucking know you.”
He knows you. 
You stand your ground, holding your nose up high even as he sensually traces the lacy trim of your panties with haunting fingertips. “M’not your s-sweetheart. Or your princess, you know.”
He hums, nodding his head slowly as he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Oh, you’re not? M’not my little slut either then, huh?” He strikes you again, your bruised hips jerking forward against the hood with a subdued whimper, palms splaying out helplessly on the metal beneath you as you thrash in his grasp. Your ass stings with every strike to your cheeks, reddened and sore with the force of his wide open palm. “Insatiable fuckin’ girl, how much more can you take? How much more till you realize how much I… fuck…”
Till you realize what?
A gasp rips right out of your throat when he roughly pulls your panties down the swell of your ass. His hands come to spread your thighs to reveal the slick between your folds, a testament to your hidden arousal as another slap comes down to your puffy lips, leaving his palm wet and shiny. 
You muffle your merciful whining with a groan, knowing full well that you shouldn’t be enjoying this, this stupid fucking foreplay, this stupid masculine show of dominance, being turned on shouldn’t have even crossed your mind in the first place.
Men.
You jeer at him over your shoulder, teeth baring like an animal when he grabs onto a fistful of your hair, arching your back up from the car as he mocks your own gasps against your ear. “Very mature of you.“
“I’m not the one who’s practically dripping on my thigh right now, babe.”
“Yeah? Well, your cock seems pretty happy to see it.”
Eddie shoves you back down onto the hood, releasing his suffocating hold on your hair with a disgruntled hum. You push your ass back against his erection, feeling him grip your waist harshly for leverage. 
You must be purple all over, darkest at where he bruises you. Not that you’d complain. He’s done worse. 
“Fuck, s-stop that, Y/N.”
“Taste of your own medicine.”
“Stop it.”
“You literally spanked me.” You bite out while he takes a painful hold of your wrists, twisting you to face him despite your struggling efforts. He’s seething, messy bangs cascading in front of his face as he looks down at you through long lashes, jaw clenched visibly. “You spanked me, Eddie.”
Yet god, does he look good.
But, no. You’re furious. You’re bubbling with absolute distaste for the boy in front of you. So angry, that you can’t help but scowl as your own hands fly out towards his heavy buckle, chains jingling against his thigh as your dexterous fingers undo his belt. 
His nose nudges desperately against yours, panting against your parted wet lips as you roughly press your forehead to his with a pained expression. “How is it you can be a total asshole but I still…” You speak through gritted teeth, cut off by a guttural groan from Eddie when you reach into his boxers and take his velvety, stiffening cock into your hand. “… still want to fuck the shit out of you?” 
“Y-Yeah?” He cups your cheek, firmly dragging his thumb down your bottom lip and watching it bounce back into its natural place. “Fuck, too stubborn to even say you want me.” He dips his finger between your lips, studying the way your cheeks hollow out instantly to suck the digit, your warm tongue coating it in thick, stringy saliva with a muffled moan.
There, you see a piece of the kind metalhead you met that one summer day.
You nip at his thumb, smiling when he hisses at the sensation and pulls away. “I’m already getting on my goddamn knees, Munson. Just shut the fuck up and let me do what I want.”
“Always doing what she wants… typical.”
“This is the part where you say...” You sink to the concrete, looking up at him with narrowed eyes as you tug his pants all the way down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being a fuckin’ dick who doesn’t know the first thing about communication.” You shove his boxers down to his ankles, nipping at his thighs before you’re running your wet lips across the side of his shaft with a whiny, teasing drawl. “I’m so sorry for getting absolutely mad at you for no goddamn reason. I’m sorry for calling you a spoiled brat. I’m sorry for putting you up on a stupid fucking pedestal. I’m sorry for assuming that you and Steve can’t be more than—“
“Okay, you’re done here, sweetheart.” Eddie grips the base of your head, ruthlessly pulling your mouth down onto his cock with a throaty grunt. You gag from the sudden sensation, eyes welling up immediately as he wriggles himself snug between your lips. “C-Christ, you’re perfect like this. Mmm, fuck. Fuckkkk. Gonna fuck your face till you cry, how does — shit, how does that sound?”
And you can’t even reply. Can’t even refuse his offer (not that you wanted to anyways). Can’t even have the last word because your mouth is full of his throbbing cock, your nose buried in the heady scent of his happy trail, his heavy balls squished against your chin as you try to even out your breathing. 
But, fuck, he’s big. And you’re panicking. You’d know he’d never hurt you, not even if he’s angry. It’s just… he’s so thick. And well, a mouth can only take so much, right?
Your hand darts out to catch yourself against your car as Eddie thrusts himself forward, the sloppy tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he holds your face in place — one hand cupping the underside of your chin and the other just above your forehead. “Shit, Y/N… yeah, can’t fuckin’ yap your ass off now, can you? Pretty girl with a big, talkative mouth… can’t even take my cock.”
Now, that flips a switch in you.
You grip the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer to you until a pathetic hmpf! leaves your mouth. Eddie’s just as surprised, fingers tangling themselves harshly in your hair as you bob your throat up and down. There’s spit bubbling from the corners of your lips, pre-cum dribbling down your jaw as Eddie grips onto the edge of the hood for dear life, his chin dropping to his chest in awe. You make the effort to glance up at him, nearly smiling at the visual of his furrowed eyebrows, the choked moans that echo through the garage, the pink flush that crawls up his straining neck.
There’s a good boy.
God, you’re practically dripping onto the floor.
“F-Fuck, you know just how I-I fucking like it, don’t you? Always a messy girl. Always so goddamn insatiable, jus’ takes and takes… even with my cock down your throat, I bet you want more. Fuck, never s-satisfied, are you?”
You pull off of his cock, coughing wetly for air as you jerk him slowly in your hand, tears blurring your dizzy vision. 
“And yet you still don’t believe that I don’t want anyone else’s cock e-except yours, Eds?”
An unspoken translation of saying: I want you. Just you.
His gaze softens, jaw still clenched, but his eyes change. They sparkle with relief, rather than anger — his mouth purses into a resigned, close-lipped smile and before you know it, he’s tugging you back onto your feet, gingerly running his palm across your cheek, inhaling the flowery scent of your hair before you’re drowning in a heated kiss that can only mean ‘nothing matters except how bad I need you right now.’
His fingers card through your scalp, your ear resting between his forefinger and middle as you grind against each other, pumping him in your grasp as he switches between tongue and teeth and his lips and fuck—
“You’re so pretty. S-So beautiful, it makes me so fuckin’ angry.” Eddie rasps, biting down the column of your throat as he holds your face tenderly. “I don’t want anyone else but you. Just y-you. Even if you piss me the hell off.”
You chuckle in amusement, your laugh quickly transitioning into a high-pitched yelp as he suddenly picks you up and places you on the cold hood of the car, spreading your thighs apart with a warning slap to either one. 
“Aw, you love me, Munson. It’s hot when you go all alpha.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me.”
Forcibly, he pulls your hips to the edge, dribbling a thick white glob of spit onto your messy cunt before he spreads you open with the calloused pads of his fingers. You lean back on your forearms, jaw unhinging as Eddie cooes at the embarrassing string of arousal leaking from your needy pussy all the way to your puckering asshole. 
His touch is hot and heavy, marking your trembling frame with another purpling bruise as he hooks an arm under your knee and presses a kiss to your leg. “You’re damn gorgeous like this.”
“Touch it already.”
He tsks. “Insatiable.”
“I’m getting bored.”
“This isn’t gonna fucking work.” Eddie snarls under his breath, and you nearly see the frustration beading off of him as he drags you off of the hood, palms and fingers flying all over your body as he forces you onto your feet and bends you over again. You jerk forward as he buries his face between your ass cheeks, his nose nudging at your cunt while he laps at your swollen clit. His fingers keep you spread open, kneading the fat of your thighs before he’s fucking his tongue into you. 
“Ah — you fucking — ah — taste delicious,” He chuckles, “You’re literally such a messy girl. Pussy already leaking with my spit.”
Your mouth falls open, nails scraping against the metal before Eddie slurps at the arousal between your folds. “F-Fuck, Eds… I’m… fuck, your mouth feels so — so good, need m-more…”
“Need more, huh?”
“Mmm.”
“Didn’t know my mouth was the key to getting you to finally shut the fuck up.” He cooes, his dominant tone exuding false pity as you rock back against his face.
“Eddie— fuckkkk…“ Your entire body lurches when his mouth drops to the tight fluttering ring of muscles above your cunt, two fingers scissoring your cunt as he dips his tongue into your ass. “Okay, fuck… that’s — that’s h-hot. E-Eddie, god… I’m… you’re…” You shudder violently, burying your face into your forearms with a pathetic laugh of disbelief, “… that’s gonna make me cum…”
“You see, that’s the fucking goal, dumbass.”
“Call me d-dumbass one more—“
“Dumbass.” You cry out as his hand comes down on the back of your thigh, leaving the skin raw and red. “Yeah, that fucking turns you on. Cum on it. Fuckin’ cum, sweet girl. You like this shit.”
Yeah.
You like it too much. But Eddie doesn’t need to hear that when you’re practicing spasming on his fingers, a warm gush trickling down the heel of his palm as your cunt swallows him all the way to his knuckles. You feel him lean over you, his chest molding to your back as you come undone for him and let out a choked sob of pleasure. He pulls you up by your throat, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you reach up to fist your hands through his hair and draw him nearer. 
“Fuck — Eddie — it’s, fuck… I’m… I’m cumming, s’too g-good, f-fuck...”
He sighs blissfully, “Yeah, baby. That’s it. Ride it out. You got this.” Your moans fill the air in broken, choppy gasps and breaths, Eddie’s free hand massaging your clit as you twitch against him. “So hot when you cum, don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to it.” 
Your lashes flutter wildly as he reaches up to brush your bangs back away from your forehead, tucking them behind either ear as he peers down at you. 
The gesture is so tender, you and Eddie almost forget why you’re mad at each other. 
He’s the first to draw in a breath, shaky and nervous. 
“Hey, you with me?”
“Mm.”
A beat, then a waft of uncertainty fills the air.
“I’m… I’m sorry for, uh, spanking you.” Oh. Not what you were expecting… surprised, you start to snicker in amusement, hiding your face in his neck as he chuckles shyly. “I’m being serious, Y/N. Stop — stop laughing, it’s making me laugh.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Well, I mean… I didn’t, you know, ask you.” Eddie strokes his palm up and down your torso, hand dipping beneath your tank top. “I always ask you, like, if that kinda shit is okay. Consent and stuff.”
He sounds like a child, unsure and guilty. Struggling to find purposeful words, to make sure he’s doing this right.
“Consent and stuff…” You repeat in a smiling whisper, running your hand gently down the side of his face. You turn to face him, slinging your arms across the back of his neck. “Eddie, I liked it. Thought it was obvious.”
“It was obvious. I felt it,” He grins in return. “I just… I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m… making you do shit that you don’t want to. Like ever.”
“Never that, Eds. I feel…” I trust you. I adore you. I’m better with you. I like you. Maybe I love you. It’s only been a couple months and you’ve ruined everyone else for me. “I feel safe with you, always.” You drag your knuckles across his sharp jaw, watching the way his throat bobs when he swallows. “Are we gonna talk about the Steve thing?”
“Definitely not off the hook with that one.”
“You know that totally hurt, right? What… what happened back there?” Eddie sighs, clasping his hand on top of yours, eyelids shutting as he leans into your touch. 
“Overreacted.” You hum in response, giving him a soft nod. “I just… got too into my head about all of it. Like — like seeing you with him felt like a wake-up call. As if I was… god, I don’t know. Back in school all over again, just realizing how I didn’t fit in there, and then with you since you have Harrington who’s all… preppy polos and hairspray, everyone’s fucking favorite, the goddamn equivalent to whatever the hell you are, Y/N.”
You smile sadly, realizing just how deep the extent of his frustrations are coming from. “And what am I, Eds?”
“Perfect.” Eddie whispers, his words hot against your lip like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re perfect. You… I’ve never been this obsessed over a girl before. God, it’s pathetic.” His hands find the back of your neck, and he guides your mouth onto his. “You’re the worst.”
He’s addicted to the heat of your tongue, the way your body so eagerly caves into his as he backs you up against the hood once more. 
“Crazy you t-think I’d ever flirt with Harrington.” His cock hardens against the inside of your sticky thigh, the tip of him catching on the swell of your clit as he topples over you and hungrily runs his teeth along your neck. “When clearly, I have my eyes set on a whole different guy.”
“Yeah?” Eddie’s hands squeeze your ass harshly, gripping you impossibly closer. “What about him?”
“S’kinda the jealous type…” You gasp as he guides your fingers around his cock, pumping him once, twice, three times before he’s lining himself up with your soaked entrance. “Fuck — but it’s hot when he is… makes me wanna get him all riled up…”
“Sounds awfully familiar, sweetheart.”
“Great smile, a pretty laugh… ugh, fuck…” Your forehead falls against Eddie’s shoulder as eases himself between your folds, filling you up with his shaft until the bush of dark curls at the very base of him brushes against your clit. “A-Amazing tattoos… even better hair…”
“Better than Harrington?”
You snort, nails digging into his bicep. “Nine-hundred and ninety-nine percent better.” 
A moan falls from his lips when you shift against him, cunt clenching around his prick helplessly as he stills inside and lifts your head off of him. “Couldn’t have j-just made it a thousand, hm?”
“S’cause you stink, Eds.” He carefully draws his hips back, only to thrust inside you hard and slow as lighthearted laughter rings through the air. “F-Fuck, there had to be… had to be something wrong with you, or else you’d be too…” You hiss as his thumb finds your clit, circling over the sensitive bundle of nerves before he’s hooking his other hand under your knee. “Oh, my god… don’t stop.”
“Words.” He whispers against your lips, eyebrows raising for emphasis. “C’mon, babe. Talk to me.”
A sob nearly rasps out of you when you feel his cock deep in your belly, every stroke deeper and wetter than the last. “Or else you’d be too g-good to be true. Shit, just like that. Fuck, I only want you. Fuck. Eddie—“ 
You cry against the incursion of his tongue — a rough, open-mouthed kiss. Riddled with frustration, with pleasure, with anger, without caution or grace, with words neither of you can really say.
“Taking m-me so well, Y/N. That’s it. You like this?” He gasps between each slam of his hips, locking you in place with a bruising hold. “You like me fucking you on this car, yeah? You insatiable girl.”
Fuck, it’s good. It’s erotic, the glistening slick of your cum sticking to the curled hair around his shaft, the shine of your thighs as you squirt around him, his teeth digging into your shoulder as his cock wedges your stubborn cunt open and spread, gaping for him as you angle your ass up to meet each sloppy, harsh stroke he gives you.
Filthy slut, stretched you open, didn’t I?
Pretty girl, you’re doing so good for me.
Your mind gets lost in his endless swirl of degradation and praise, deliciously reeling in his back and forth of calling you a whore and then calling you an angel not even a minute later as he drives into your cunt.
“Fuck. Fuck, Eds.” 
“If it’s too much, I can — god, we can stop, Y/N.” He drops his head, shoulders shaking as he tries to go easy. “Jus’ say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll stop. Fuck, whatever you want.”
“No. Keep going. Please. Please. Please.” You don’t fucking care. The stretch, the sting of him, it feels almost like the first every time you have sex. “Does it look like I want you to stop?
Eddie snarls and fucks you harder. The thick head of his cock near-bruising your cervix as he punches up into you, your pleas and the sounds of skin slapping against skin ringing through your skull.
The lewd squelch of his shaft driving into your cunt turns him hysterical, and before you know it, he’s hiking you up further onto the hood of the car, grasping the hinges of your knees and forcing them against your bouncing tits.
He’s turned you into nothing but a looping mixtape of fuck-fuck-harder-please-Eddie-Eddie. And fuck, does it overfill the cup of pleasure deep in his belly.
“Baby, I’m…” Your hand reaches for his, desperate and frantic as you interlock fingers and Eddie presses reassuring kisses to each of your knuckles. “I’m gonna…”
“What’s up, hm?” He whispers gently, the sincere concern in his voice tugging at your heartstrings while your ribs rattle with another pleasurable sob. “G-Gonna cum on my cock, sweetheart? Your pussy must need it so bad, yeah? Yeah, I know. Fuck, m’gonna get you there. I’m gonna do so good for you.”
He rears back, before spearing fully into you. Sweat rolls down the side of your forehead, your back arching into Eddie’s sticky chest, his thumb slipping between your wet lips while he works your sore cunt open. 
You can barely speak, torn between a fluttering consciousness and the rising warmth between your thighs that your mouth seems to move faster than your brain. “M-My good boy.”
Eddie lets out a huff. 
Then, smiles as bright as the innocent, summer sun. 
“Fuck yeah, mama. Cum for me. Cum on that shit.” 
Your orgasm hits you before you even realize it’s coming. 
Such a suffocating build-up, that you almost forget that your pleasure is a reward, your belly cramping and spasming as the walls of your cunt squeeze around Eddie’s cock. 
You open your eyes as the high flows through you, and when Eddie meets your fucked-out hazy gaze, a word dangles from the tip of his tongue, burning through his throat and stabbing at his chest as he grits his teeth and restrains every part of him that wants to say: mine. 
The raw claim of it. The power of such a minuscule word that implies something deeper than fucking behind closed doors and spending midnights in parking lots. Bars and motels turn into cafés and a shared apartment. Cuddling in the backs of janky old vans turns into ‘good mornings’ and ‘how’d you sleep?’ in a queen-sized bed. 
Eddie realizes it now, how he’s never had something to call his. To call his own. 
But then you laid out on that lawn one day and…
He’s scared, though. Horrified. You’re free-spirited, you’re open, you’re the rose and the thorns all at once, bright and optimistic and kind. And yet, he can’t risk scaring you away with something so… possessive and certain. 
Instead, Eddie tightens his arms around you and thrusts deeper, slotting his mouth over your lips before he offers you a promise. The only promise that’ll give him some sort of peace, to keep him at bay in case you can’t meet him halfway. 
“I’m yours.” 
The words are muffled against your skin, but either way, you inhale sharply at it. Your hands fumble around Eddie’s neck, cupping him at the nape before you’re pulling him in closer and easing your mouth onto his with furrowed brows and watery eyes.
“And I’m yours.” He chokes on his moans as he strokes into you, your tongue rolling against his as you kiss him hungrily, the warm press of it taking his breath away. “I’ve always been yours.”
Eddie whimpers at that, cumming with his head buried into your shoulder. “M-Mine.”
His last desperate thrusts have you reeling, gasps and sobs being pricked out of you as Eddie fills you with his warmth. His cum slowly seeps out from your cunt when he pulls out almost too quickly for your personal liking, body falling against yours as he places a palm on the hood of the car to steady himself. 
You’re sore. 
Eddie takes a few moments to catch his breath, panting against your chest as you entangle your fingers at the back of his head. “I meant it…”
“What?” He exhales out, a tinge of confusion clear in his tone. 
“Meant that I… I only want you. S’true.” You smile and hold him gently by the chin, picking his head up and off your shoulder. “Jus’ you, Eds.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Eddie chuckles heartily, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before he presses a kiss to your arm. “Hi, by the way.”
“Mmm. Hi, you. You feel okay?”
“Fuck, I’ve never been better honestly. Came so hard and you’re — oh, look how stretched out you are.” He hums, running a thumb up your drenched slit. A shy laugh bubbles out of him, “Should be the one asking you if you’re okay, sweetheart.”
“I’m on cloud nine. I dunno about you.”
“Baby, I’m past the damn clouds. I’m all the way up in the sky with the big man himself.” Eddie dips his digits between your folds, mewling as you jerk your hips against him. He collects the mixture of your juices on the tips of his fingers, raising it up to his lips before he’s sucking on it like his last meal. “Delicious.”
“Perv.” You duck your head, shying away from his kisses before he catches your mouth, sighing against your lips. “Do it again.”
He pauses, brown eyes glistening with adoration.
“Insatiable, I tell you.”
He helps you to your feet, hand outstretched in front of him like a proper gentleman as you wobble onto your legs, pulling your panties and shorts over your ass as Eddie mirrors your movements. He kisses you once more as soon as he’s buttoned his jeans, securing his heavy belt buckle while your teeth knock against each other.
“Eddie…”
“Yeah?”
“My carrrr.” You whine, wringing your arms around his neck as you glance back at the Corvette. “It’s all filthy again. Thanks to you, you know.”
He gasps, placing a hand over his heart while you sneak out from under him and snatch the sponge atop of the car. “Well, call me a dick then.” 
“Dick.” 
And before he can even see it coming, you’re throwing it at him, the sponge landing against his bicep with a loud squelch! that makes you burst into laughter. “Oh! Oh, we’re playing dirty? Okay, fuck you too, then.”
You squeal as he runs at you, soap drenching your clothes as he grabs you by the waist and squeezes the sponge over your front. 
“Eddie!”
Again, Eddie Munson is eternally fucked.
But that’s okay, because not only can he call you a plethora of pretty names, he can also call you the only one that truly matters: mine.
His. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins who — okay, sure — one hundred percent deserves dates at Enzo’s rather than quick stops at twenty-four hour diners, who deserves more than rusty vans and makeshift beds in the backseat, who deserves more than stick-and-poke tattoos and drugstore cologne. The girl next door who deserves more than a metalhead who works at a record store and lives in a goddamn trailer park.
Yet, all at once, the perfect poster girl of Hawkins who somehow likes twenty-four hour diners and the greasy food that comes with it. Who likes throwing fries at him from across the table because he still abhors The Cure and still thinks his music taste is superior. 
The girl who prefers his rusty van over a regular car because the smell is comforting, and that it reminds you of a home away from home. Reminds you of your nights downtown and the really early mornings he’d spend reading Lord of the Rings to you in the back, surrounded by blankets and clothes.
The girl who demands that your first tattoo not be done by a professional, but someone with stick-and-pokes and bat tattoos on his arm. Someone who smells like cedar and wood, gasoline and a fresh pack of cigarettes. Steady hand or not, as long as it’s done by him.
The girl next door who loves the metalhead that works at the record store and lives in a cozy trailer park.
So yeah, maybe Eddie is eternally fucked.
But at least you’re by his side through it all.
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117luv · 11 months
Text
THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 6
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synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.
genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff
pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication
taglist: CLOSED!
a/n: hi my loves! apologies since it took LONGER than my usual sched for updates which is average of 2 days, it just i have many things in mind and im having a minor writer's block hence the slow update but rest assured my update sched will be consistent since its my final week of school T.T ne ways enjoy n love ya <3
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Having dinner with your ex is an awkward event, especially if it's your own kid who asked for the event to take place. Yn can't say no to her son, whom she hasn't been with for almost 15 years; it's the least she can do for him. As she got ready, the boys waited for her downstairs as they watched a show on the TV. A doorbell rang just after she went downstairs. She opened the door and met the eyes of the man who is not only the father of her children but also the guy she still deeply loves and cares about despite being apart for more than a decade. They got in his car and drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with the boys playfully teasing each other as she looked at the rear mirror. She was met with a scene she didn't think could be possible after all these years. Her twin sons are playfully bantering as Heeseung hums to the tune of the song playing on the radio. It felt like a family enjoying the weekend and having dinner together. A complete family she had wished she could have fought for in the past.
They stepped into the restaurant and sat at their table. The boys were busy looking at the menu while the two tried to avoid each other's glances. As the waiter got their orders and, after awhile, came out with their food. They peacefully ate while the boys shared stories while they were in the camp. She can see that the boys indeed have a bond with each other despite being apart for such a long time. It pains her that this could have been their reality if things had turned out okay. It was time for dessert, and Heeseung excused himself to go to the restroom, which she quickly followed as she instructed the boys to wait for them. As she found him, she quickly grabbed his arm and asked him if she could talk to him in a private area.
"What do you want us to talk about?" he asked. "I think we should tell them; I can't bear waiting any longer to see them not know about their situation, she responded. Heeseung gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Okay, if that's what you want, then we can tell them. They deserve to know about it." — "Thank you. We should wait and tell them when we arrive in my place since we are still in public, to which he nodded and agreed. They got back to the table, and the boys were just talking as they saw their parents. She told them that her and Ni-ki's dad would tell them about something. The ride back was silent as the boys felt nervous for what was about to happen.
"So, what do the both of you want to tell us?" Jungwon asked as they all sat on the sofa. "Okay, me and Heeseung have been hiding something. I know this might come as a surprise and if you two are angry or feel betrayed by the both of us, its completely understandable. Jungwon and Ni-ki, the both of two are twins. Ni-ki, I understand if you feel hatred towards me. I been nothing but an useless mom to you. I failed to give you the right to experience to have a mother. I as your mother would like to apologize deeply. I know my apology doesn't make up for the 15 years but I hope you know that I always have you in my mind. I prayed everyday that you and your dad are safe. That you're eating well and growing into a respectfully man. I'm always proud of you and I'm grateful to be your mother." as she spoke Ni-ki cant help his eyes to tear up. He finally found his mom, the woman for whom he had longed for a long time. He can finally have someone he can call 'Mom', or someone who will shower him with affection. The day had come, and he was the happiest he had been for the longest time. "Can I hug you?" he spoke to her, and she opened her arms as the boy hugged his mom. "I've been wishing to feel your hug for the longest time. Whatever reason you and dad have, you can just explain to us next time. I just want to hug right now. Also, does this mean I can call you 'Mom' and taste your meals?" the boy finally looked at his mom, who shared the same tearful eyes as she looked at him: "Yes, Sweetheart. You can call me 'Mom, and I will cook you anything that your heart desires. Anything for my baby." as she placed a kiss on his forehead.
As the scene unfolds in front of Jungwon. He can't help but look at Heeseung, who is sitting near him. His dad is within arms reach; he can't believe he can finally meet him. He got up and hugged him tightly. "I can't believe I can finally hug you, Dad, he said while the older male hugged him tighter. "Me too, Kid. Me and your mom want to apologize about everything. The both of you don't deserve this but we can't undo the past anymore. Let me make for years I wasn't there for the both of you." Heeseung replied, "Thank you for telling us. As Ni-ki said, just explain to us next time. I want to be with you, I really want to be close to you." he said as Heeseung caressed his hair and placed a kiss on top of his head while hugging him. The day ended on a good note. There were many emotions poured out, and the four of them hugged together. The family is finally complete.
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taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @aefolrin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1
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imaginesappho · 23 days
Text
She Is a Mess, but She Is a Masterpiece
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Summary: As if crushing on a Muggleborn wasn’t enough to slander your family name, having a crush on a female Muggleborn was infinitely worse. You’d tried so hard to squash the feelings down for the sake of your family, but when you see her crying on what was supposed to be her perfect night, you realized you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her.
Note: I wrote this while horrendously sleep-deprived. Enjoy my gay delirium.
Masterlist
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Growing up, you were taught that balls and formal events were a thing for only the most prestigious families. You couldn’t count how many you’d been forced to attend—how many hands you’d had to shake, how many fake smiles you’d pretended were real, how many listless tales you’d had to endure to help make a good impression.
You’d never liked them. The women were always so conceited and the men pompous, all having been born with a silver spoon in their mouth and contempt in their hearts. Not to mention the horrid gowns your mother would force you to wear or the company your father would threaten you to keep.
You were their perfect little porcelain doll. They played with you while they had company and then they shoved you back into the closet until the next time.
If only they knew…
The Yule Ball proved to be just as boring as you’d imagined. None of those ballroom lessons seemed to have stuck with your peers as they’d bumbled their way through the horrid music. Watching the champions take the first dance had been more exciting than your date. Some older Durmstrang boy named Stoyan—he was about as interesting as grinding up lacewing flies.
You were finally rid of him after he grew annoyed at your lack of engagement. He’d thrown a small fit about how you were lucky for him to have asked you and how it was only a pity date—you were quick to cast him aside and wish luck to the next girl who fell victim.
The long walk back to your dorm had never seemed so tempting. You itched to strip the dress from your body and replace it with your lounge pants, curl up next to the fire, and lose yourself in another world written in ink. No more socializing for the night.
Unfortunately your plan was thwarted the moment you rounded the corner for the staircase. Sat at the bottom was a Gryffindor you had come to know all too well. Her hair fell from its sleek updo like the tears tracking down her face. Thank Merlin for magic—her makeup surely would have been ruined otherwise.
You hesitated for a moment before approaching her.
“Those tears are wasted, you know.”
Hermione sniffed in surprise and lifted her head. She roughly wiped at her face as though to hide the evidence. Your name slipped from her lips with a suspicious lack of apprehension.
“What do you want?” Her voice, low in exhaustion, cracked. She’d had quite the night from the looks of it.
You followed up with, “Boys aren’t worth crying over. Especially not the bellends around here.”
Her glassy gaze lowered back down to her hands. She mumbled something. You assumed it was a request for you to leave her be. She probably expected the usual malice from the generational rivalry. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find it in your heart to live up to the stereotype.
“Look, Granger, whoever made you cry is not worth your tears.” And you wanted to find who did it. “Not to mention the depressing image you’ve painted of yourself,” you added.
Whoever caused those tears deserved what would come to him if she ever found out who it was. It was a pity for such a fair face to be streaked with despair. But even rimmed in red, those charming eyes captivated you.
Your parents would disown you…
You stuck your hand out. “Come with me.”
Hermione glanced from your proffered hand and up to your face. That apprehension crept onto her features as you’d expected. It usually wasn’t wise for a Gryffindor to go with a Slytherin of different blood.
You rolled your eyes before letting your mouth curve into a small smile—your first genuine one of the evening. “I don’t bite, Granger,” you said. “Unless you want me to, that is.”
It took the young witch a few minutes to trust you had no ill will towards her. The walk down to the kitchens was mostly silent save for the occasional couple enjoying each other’s company after the ball. Your finger tickled the pear on the painting, allowing you to slip inside once the entrance revealed itself.
She rubbed at her eyes again. “Why did you bring me here?”
In lieu of answering, you called for a house elf with whom you had come to adore greatly. Mila eagerly conjured up the hot cocoa and cookies you’d requested.
You nudged her mug and the plate towards her. “Eat,” you encouraged. “You’ll feel better.”
Hermione finally cracked a small smile at your words, like they’d stirred up a fond memory. She slowly took a sip of the drink, noticeably careful not to let the marshmallow stick to her upper lip.
You watched as the warmth started to take its effect.
“Mila makes the best cocoa here,” you commented lightly. “It’ll lift anyone’s spirits.”
She hummed and gingerly grabbed a cookie. Instead of eating it, though, she played with it between her fingers a second. Her eyes sought yours curiously.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Because you’re I hate seeing you cry.
“You’re a good person, Granger. You don’t deserve to feel the way you do.”
Because I want you to be happy.
Because I think I love you.
Hermione Granger had been on your radar since first year. You’d admired her intelligence and resilience, her courage and empathy. It was only last year when you’d looked at her and realized how beautiful she was. You were entranced with the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed and how bright she smiled when praised by a professor.
And tonight, in that periwinkle dress that hugged her slender frame, you realized just how much she’d blossomed.
You’d always been able to tamper down the festering feelings towards her. Their worlds weren’t meant to collide—you were a Slytherin from a noble line of Purebloods, and she was a Gryffindor with Muggle parents. But you could feel that nova collapsing the longer you spent in her company.
You didn’t care what your parents thought or how your peers would react. Hermione Granger was what you wanted, in whatever way she was willing to give, so long as she was in your life.
Rosy blotches colored her cheeks. She averted her gaze shyly, like she wasn’t used to such compliments. Maybe it was just she wasn’t used to them coming from someone like you.
“You know, Granger,” you continued when she didn’t say anything, “there’s always been something about you. Something that… that I can’t stay away from.”
Her eyes darted back to yours. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve admired you since our first year. At first I thought I was just jealous—I mean, you’ve the best grades in our year, and you weren’t even raised with magic.”
“And now…?”
“And now…” You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling your chest clench with something you weren’t incredibly familiar with. “And now I realize it was never the grades I wanted.”
You held her gaze to convey the deeper meaning behind your words. Her lips parted slightly, and you could see when her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly than before.
She swallowed. “Oh… I, well…” She chuckled quietly, biting down on her lip as she thought of how to respond. “I-I never realized…”
“No one else does, either,” you admitted. “I’ve tried to ignore it because of, well, who I am—what I am. But I don’t think I can anymore.
“When I saw you come down those stairs, all I could think was how you were the prettiest one in the room.” The words kept tumbling from your mouth of your own accord. It was a dam that had been unleashed, years of pent up secrets dying to finally be free. “Then I saw you crying, and all I wanted to do was hold you. I wanted to take that pain away. I wanted… Well, I wanted you.”
Hermione’s fingers curled into her fist nervously. “Wanted?” she whispered.
You leaned over and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched as your palm then rested against her cheek. Your thumb stroked the soft skin, admiring the way it felt beneath your touch.
“Want,” you clarified softly. “I want you, Hermione. Whatever that means to you. Acquaintances, friends… something more…”
She looked down and, afraid you’d scared her off, you started to pull back. To your surprise, she reached up and laid her hand on yours, keeping her cheek pressed into your palm.
“I… I wasn’t crying over a boy.” Her quiet voice might have been missed if you weren’t so close to her. “I mean, Ron did upset me, but… I was crying because I wanted to talk to you and I couldn’t because…” She trailed off.
“Because why, darling?”
“Because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen, and I’m just… I’m me. I can’t compare to you.”
“Don’t compare yourself to anyone, Hermione.” You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but now you were mere inches away. If you just tilted your head… “Nobody can compete with you, love.”
She made a small noise in the back of her throat before her lips touched yours. They were soft, their pressure gentle and unsure, but it was the best thing you’d ever felt. It left you almost empty when she pulled back.
She smiled softly before running her fingers down the side of your face. “I… I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she confessed. “But… what are we going to tell people if they ask?”
“We can tell them whatever you want.” You grabbed her fingers before lacing them with yours. “But I know it would ruin Krum and Weasley,” you smirked.
“I don’t care about them. Not when I’m with you.”
“Then stay with me for as long as you’re happy—and I promise, sweetheart, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
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astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
love languages | charles leclerc instagram au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
charles and y/n show off their love languages, gift giving and words of affirmation.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 661,083 others
charles_leclerc: sometimes facilitating your girlfriend's hyperfixations works out
view all 11,045 comments
yourusername it's defo better than the cupboard full of yarn from when i wanted to start crochet
charles_leclerc you're a much better dj than crocheter (sp?)
landonorris you're coming for my brand
yourusername hush child i've been playing guitar hero since before you were born
landonorris you're two years older than me?
yourusername i was a cool fucking kid
danielricciardo so all i'm hearing is flat party
yourusername if you bring the alcohol i'm down
charles_leclerc it's literally my flat?
user223 they're my parents omg
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 40,133 others
yourusername: who said boys don't like flowers?
view all 3,077 comments
charles_leclerc i love anything from you <3
user521 the way they just use their instagrams to flex their relationship
user762 like we get it you're happy LEAVE US ALONE
landonorris you posted your rizz on instagram ???
yourusername it's called a love letter loser
landonorris cringe
yourusername just say you're lonely and bounce
charles_leclerc you guys good?
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charles_leclerc posted to their story
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[caption: learnt how to bake because there's no good cinnamon rolls in monaco for y/n]
carlossainz55
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[caption: ever want to feel lonely? sit with charles when he's on the phone to y/n}
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 773,087 others
charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you've changed my life more than you can know. with only a few races left this season, we can celebrate properly soon xx
view all 14,076 comments
yourusername i love you so much charles, virginia woof and i shall be cheering for you all the way til the end xx
user12 god when is it my turn
user44 i beg she gets to give a radio message if charles wins in abu dhabi
user77 OMG PLEASE I NEED IT
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n!!! looking forward to seeing you in abu dhabi
user404 it's happening ITS HAPPENING
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: nowhere i'd rather be, believe always]
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,076,223 others
charles_leclerc: what i'm feeling right now can't be put into words. we've been working for this my whole life, sacrificing so much and losing so many people. i can't say it doesn't hurt not having them here to see it, but i know they're proud. to the tifosi, i am beyond happy to bring the championship back to maranello and take ferrari back to where they belong. y/n has always said my love language is gift giving so consider this my gift back to you for all the support you've shown me over the years. and finally to y/n, you're not only my escape from racing at home but also my focus on the road. i take your letters to every race and will always think of you when i cross that line, i love you and this championship is just as much yours as it is mine. forza ferrari
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pierregasly congrats calmar!! everyone is so proud of you
yourusername this is yours charles, and yours alone. you've worked for it, you deserve it. i'm so proud and honoured to even be a part of your journey. i love you.
charles_leclerc i hope you're ready for three months of nothing but me
yourusername i can't wait
scuderiaferrari CONGRATS CHARLES FORZA FERRARI
user16 omg he actually did it !!!! congrats charles
user689 her radio message, they're really in love man
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, daniel ricciardo and 70,458 others
yourusername: thank god i got my nails done. no joke i love you so much charles, i can't wait to write you letters for the rest of my life.
view all 17,842 comments
charles_leclerc i'm glad i booked the right nail salon. no jokes i can't wait to buy you random shit for the rest of my life.
user44 OMG HE DID IT
pierregasly congrats!!! bagsy best man
carlossainz55 that'll be me actually
arthur_leclerc it's me actually
yourusername you know he already asked seb right?
user88 so do we think he planned to wait until he won the championship to propose or?
charles_leclerc i did want to wait, but i was proposing this year no matter what, needed her to be mrs. leclerc as soon as possible
user88 AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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distressedjellyfish · 5 months
Text
Things I think about with frequency
Amy March
How we deserved to see Amy and Laurie's wedding, and them falling in love, and just more of them
How Amy March is hated by many because LMA based the characters off her own sisters, and Amy was obviously written with some bias (as were all the sisters), which shines through and makes us feel similarly about Amy that "Jo" felt about her younger sister.
That line where Amy says "I've been second to Jo my whole life" hits A LOT harder when you realize that Louisa's (Jo) middle name is May, and her younger sister, who she based Amy off, is named May, after LMA's middle name.
I think that people see Amy as this vapid little bitch because she always knew she wanted to be a wife, and she knew she wanted to be rich. But what people fail to consider is that a lot of the time the youngest is the one that sees all the flaws in their family’s lives and feels responsible for taking care of them, even if its not expressly stated. Jo was a wild card. She was free to do as she wanted and nothing could stop her and God love Marmee for never trying. Meg was docile and almost polar opposite of Jo, and as the eldest sister she felt the same burden but lessened because yes she had typical Eldest Sister Syndrome where she had the need to take care of the family, but she also was the first, and therefore had no pre-set markers and expectations that she needed to meet or surpass. She wanted to marry and all that, but it didn't super matter about finances to her. Beth was unable to do "better" than her sisters "mistakes" flat out. And its not through any fault of her own, its just the way it was.
Speaking from experience, its always been clear to me that as the youngest of 3, I would have to do better. My half brother got a girl pregnant on his gap year when he was 18, so I was never allowed to take one, even though it would have probably helped in the long run. My half sister has always been mean to my parents, and won't let my dad see his only biological grandkid, which rips my dad apart, so of course I feel the pressure to have a child to give my dad a bio grandkid to dote on like he does with his non-bio grandkids, even though he's never outwardly expressed to anyone ever that he feels any disconnect from my niece because they aren't related, or that he wants me to have kids for any reason other than he wants them.
Anyways, my point is that Amy felt that pressure from a young age, hence always saying this or that about marrying rich. Add onto that when Aunt March tells her she's her family’s only hope of not being in the lower class/lower middle class for the rest of their lives. And just because that's the only time we see it, but that doesn't mean that there weren't other similar conversations had. Do you really think Aunt March never made her snide comments about the family and their status in front of Amy?
Amy's entire character revolves around this point, she's focused on being a proper lady, being delicate and pretty, in hopes of one day being able to bag someone rich, for her family.
Obviously, she falls into infatuation with Laurie when she meets him at the ripe age of 12??? She idolizes Jo, and Laurie is basically just the boy version (with some exceptions). He's also rich, young, handsome, and charming, and adores the family for who they are, including all their flaws. He's exactly what Amy had been saying she would marry, with the added bonus of him loving Jo the way she is, the exact opposite of Amy, proving that there are rich lovely men out there who will love you even if you aren't perfect, even if you falter. He's proof she can have the life she knows she needs to have for her family, and also still enjoy it and not be stressed all the time about being perfect.
Of course Laurie loves Jo first, for very similar reasons that Amy is infatuated with him. At 15, his whole life has been spent at dinner parties with girls the exact opposite of Jo, all proper and lovely and so so similar to one another, being told he'll marry one of them, everyone expecting him to be polished and well spoken and everything that no 15 year old boy wants to be. So then in comes this whirlwind girl who is completely different, a breath of fresh air that never wants to marry and can't ballroom dance for shit and laughs too loud, and shows him that life can be the Something Different he so desperately craves.
And of course, he ends up with Amy. He was Jo's best friend, so for 6 years all he knew of her was the way she was presented through Jo's eyes. A bratty little girl, who was the same as the other vapid girls he knew, that wasn't worth a thought. And he never paid her any mind because he spent 6 years thinking Jo loved him back, so why would he think of other girls? Then, at 21, he is essentially dumped by the love of his life, and travels abroad to find who he is without her. He meets Amy again, the girl who was always happy to see him. Of course he's going to spend time with her, she's familiar enough to feel like home, but different enough from Jo that it doesn't hurt. And there's the added validation of her liking him, which sometimes you need after your heart has been ripped apart. Plus, she's the only one he really knows in Paris. So they spend time together, and in that time he learns that she's not at all the way he's seen her over the last 6 years. Where he always saw someone not very bright, with a dim personality, that didn't stand up for anything or really rock the boat unless seriously provoked, who would do anything for him, he now finds a strong, funny, kind, beautiful girl, who is very intelligent and has a deep understanding of how cruel the world is (maybe ((definitely)) moreso than her sister) and knows how to manipulate said world in such a way that she can come out close to on top, who cares about her family enough to put everything else aside in order to become the person they need her to be in order to support them, who would still do anything for him but will absolutely call him on his shit and put him in his place when necessary. And how could he not love that?
She's not all that much like Jo, sure, but she is so much more. And she deserves so much more than people calling her his second choice.
Also I think that its criminal that most people don't see that obviously Jo loved her family but she loved herself more. Her sense of duty was to herself, and finding the place that would make her happy. She was also kind of a brat? Things didn't go her way? Editor is a dick? Boy critisizes her writing? Tantrum.
Whereas Amy loved her family more than herself. She was willing to put aside her dreams in order to support her family, and growing up was very rarely bitter about it. She decided, on her own, that her family was her number one priority, and that regardless of the fact that she could be happier doing other things, she wanted to do what she could to provide for her family. She knew how the world treated women, and she learned how to take that, and general criticism, on the chin.
Personally, I think that Amy is a way better character, and I'll die on this hill
Amy March
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anniemika · 2 years
Text
All yours
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NSFW Content!
Eren Jaeger x Female Reader
Summary: Leaving your toxic boyfriend seems to be a mission impossible, especially when he shows you just how good you could have it with him every single time.
Word count: 4.9k
Warnings: cursing, oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, spit, dirty talk, degradation, choking, impact play (slapping), creampie
.....
Ring ring
He’s calling you. Again.
Your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.
You’re lying in bed, hugged by your favourite warm blanket with a bowl of popcorn sitting right next to you, a glass of sparkling wine in your hand as you watch the last season of The Bachelor and wipe your running nose every now and then. Ideal.
After a long crying session that consisted of the occasional scream into your pillow, you think you’ve finally made peace with it. You’re dumping him. For good this time.
He’s not worth it anymore. 2 years is a long ass time to go through the shit you’ve gone through. He’s an asshole, he’s toxic, he doesn’t deserve you. Simple as that.
You reach for the little glittery notebook you’ve been keeping as some sort of journal, get your favourite pink fluffy pen, and let the thought process begin. You’ve been writing in it for some time now, noting down all the things you want to do this summer as a single woman. Get a summer job, party, travel with your friends, all the things you’ve wanted to do for so long but didn’t have the.. permission to do.
When you first met Eren, you didn’t think for one minute that he was going to end up being the narcissistic asshole you’ve come to know. He was like a dream come true at the start. No one had ever treated you as good as him, paying you so much attention, you became addicted to it, and singing you so many praises, it was like you’d made him in your head. The honeymoon phase was the most amazing part of your relationship, filled with love, happiness, and so much sex, you couldn’t walk straight for a whole day after your usual marathons.
But then, as the months went by, you started seeing another side of Eren. It began with the occasional “when are you coming home??” text when he knew you were out with your friends, and the “you’re not going out in that, are you?” when you’d wear something he didn’t have any problems with before. He became possessive, jealous of the people who were close to you, he wanted you all to himself. He was a master manipulator too, succeeding in making you feel like you weren’t making an effort to understand him and why he had a problem with the otherwise normal things you did, like having a girl’s night with your friends or going to your parent’s house without him once. Now, having guy friends was a whole new problem on its own.
You could hang out with his friends (when he was there, of course), but not with the guy from your biology study who you were assigned to make a project with. It was out of the question, the name of any guy from your classes or even old friends’ was met with a scowl and a look that let you know you should probably never mention or see them again. All the bar fights when he’d see someone so much as glance your way, or the fights you would have with him for the stupidest things, like asking a bartender what kind of cocktail he would recommend to you almost always ended up with Eren pressing you against a wall and asking “you wanna fuck him, huh bitch?”
Oh, but the sex. You think that maybe that is the reason why you stayed with him for so long, even with all the bullshit. It was out of this world. Eren is a fucking beast in bed, an experience that any woman dreams of. He is rough, full of passion, knows exactly which buttons to push to bring you over the edge every time, and the dirty talk.. oh boy.
“That’s it, that’s it you little fuckin’ whore, make a mess on my dick.”
“Wanna cum so badly, you crying, huh? Beg for it then.”
“Open that filthy mouth, come on. Wanna see the place I’m ‘bout to feel my cum with.”
Just thinking about all the times he’s used your body like a fucking rag doll has you licking your lips and clenching your walls. But, you’ve made up your mind for good this time. The dick may be good, but you’re done with his shit.
The clock shows you it’s 20 minutes past midnight, and you decide to call it a night and try to catch some sleep. You check your phone, the 10 missed calls from your soon-to-be-ex making a long, exhausted sigh leave your lips. All the crying had made you tired, and all you wanted was to finally lay your head on your soft pillow and forget all about Eren. Only if it was that easy.
A ring on your doorbell startles you out of bed, and you begin to feel the dreading feeling of who is standing on the other side of it. You put on your slippers and with angry steps make your way to it, tippy-toeing to see who it is through the tiny hole in your door. And, of course, you’re right.
There he was, on the other side of the door, Eren Jaeger in all his drunken glory. He looked roughed up, his shirt a mess, with a couple of his rings and bracelets missing, the knuckles on his right hand swollen with a blue undertone. Amazing.
“The fuck do you want, Eren!?” You shout through the door, anger bubbling up like a volcano ready to explode.
“Y/n, baby-“
“Do not call me your fucking baby!” The nerve of him. Last time he saw you, he called you a “fucking whore” for wearing a freaking ruffle skirt.
“Baby, I’m really s’orry, please open up!”
“Yeah, fuck you. Go home, Eren.” You decide to be as stern as possible. He had to understand that there was no coming back from this. Not anymore.
“Y/n, fucking please, you know I’m sorry!” You see him lean against your door with both hands, his head hanging low in between them.
“No, I don’t. Wasn’t I a fucking whore, Eren? Why would you want anything to do with such a disgusting whore like me, huh?” You don’t know why, maybe it’s because of all the anger you have nestled inside, but you begin to feel tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t wanna be with you anymore! You treat me like shit, Eren!”
You shout at him again, and in response, he begins to punch your door. You feel the vibrations of his punches, and for a moment, you think about calling 911 to have him escorted out of the building. You didn’t want your neighbours to become witnesses of yet another one of your fights.
“Stop or I’ll call the cops!”
“Fucking call them, then! I don’t care anymore! I fucking lost you..” the last words become whispers, and then you hear it. He’s crying. His sniffles echo in your ears, and that’s when you break, too. With your back against the door, you sit on the cold floor and begin to sob quietly, trying not to let him hear you. He wasn't going to see you cry again, you’d promised yourself.
“Y/n, I.. I know I'm a shitty person, okay? But baby, if you ever loved me, please.. just open the door. I h-have to see you.” He slurs his words, and you hate yourself for it, but you begin to feel bad for him. Truth was, Eren had a lot of problems with himself. All the uncontrollable anger, the jealousy, the possessiveness. You tried to help him with some of them, but he wasn’t serious about getting help. So, naturally, you stopped trying at some point, because all he did was try and push you away, continuing with his behaviour. And look where it got him.
“I haven’t slept for days, I can’t reach your phone, I- I just need to see you.. please.” His words are like a dying man’s wish, at least that’s what it feels like to your ears. That’s how much you care about him and want to believe he's actually not the asshole who treats you like his property. So, with a few last sniffles, you get up from the tiles in your hallway and grab your keys. When you open the door, it’s like his eyes light up and get filled with hope. You still loved him.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty..” the compliment rolls off his tongue so naturally like you weren’t just screaming at each other. You look down at your feet and move to make room for him to get in. Eren feels the need to touch you, bring your body close to his, smell your scent, but no matter how much he’s had to drink, he knows it won't be right. He moves slowly inside your apartment, head low like a schooler who’s been scolded. You keep your distance, eyes concentrated on the floor.
“So,” you begin, “talk.”
He turns to look at your face, disappointment gracing his when he sees you’re not looking back at him. He rests his back against one of your hallway walls, emerald eyes glued to your figure.
“I miss you.. I really fuckin’ do.” You don’t like the way your heart stings from his words.
“I hate myself, d’you know that?” He ends the sentence with a short, bitter laugh. “I’m such an insecure piece of shit. I know you deserve better.” There’s a ball in his throat when he says the last sentence, feeling his tears ready to fall. “I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry for all the shit- for just screwing things up. I’m sorry.”
Don’t cry, is all you keep repeating to yourself. He always does this, he’s manipulating you, don’t fall for it.
“You’re the most amazing person in the world, and I feel like a fucking failure for losing you. You loved me, only me, and I always found a reason to pick a fight. I’m just so.. helpless, I don’t know what to do anymore. I fucked up.”
You snort, finally bringing your face up to send him a piercing glare. “You don’t know what to do? Oh, poor you, Eren! And what about me? What am I supposed to do with this, huh? Every time I try to end things, you always pull this shit! It’s fucking exhausting!” Your voice bounces off the walls, filling the space with your frustration. Eren can feel it, can feel your sharpened nerves, and how no matter what he says, you’re on the offensive.
“I- I know! I get tired from it too, I swear, I hate myself for it, but.. I can’t let you go like this.. please..” you hate, hate, hate how his apologetic tone and pretty voice play with your heart and mind, how it drives the tears to accidentally spill from your eyes, how all you want to do right now is kiss and hug him.
“Fuck” you clench your teeth, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I hate you..” But I don't. Not really.
Eren feels like this is his cue to try and move a bit closer to you, doing his best not to stumble on his feet. You begin to feel his warmth when he stands a few inches away, catching the mix of the alcohol and the musky scent of his perfume.
He bites his inner lip, “I don't think you do, though..” His hand raises to try and touch your cheek, and to his delight, you don't flinch away, “I love you.”
You wince. No, no. “Don’t say that.”
You try to move away from him but he quickly cups your face in his hands, “But it's true. I love you, I love you so fucking much, it's killing me.”
He's lying, don't fall for it. “That’s not love, Eren. It’s ownership. You can’t own me.”
“I don't want that, baby, I swear.” He washes your tears away with his thumbs, “I just want you.”
He inches closer until your lips are just a centimeter away. You debate pushing him off and telling him to get out of your apartment, but something inside you doesn't let you move a muscle. And so, you taste him. You taste the vodka and the tears, and maybe even the regret, as he kisses you softly. It's so unlike Eren, he's usually the type of person to overwhelm you with his presence, with his harshness and passion, but this time, it's different. It's sensual, but still, so tender, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly slips his tongue inside your mouth to get a better taste. That tongue of his, and the way it pushes against yours, driving you to press your head against the door and let him explore your mouth further. You're screaming to yourself to just push him away, but the little tingle in your lower belly tells you that this is exactly what you want. It's embarrassing.
You break away, placing your palms against his chest, “Eren, stop.. I can’t.”
You can see him trying to hold back from kissing you again, his lower lip trapped between his teeth, “Fuck, y/n, please..”
He rests your foreheads together, and an internal war commences inside you. You want him, you can’t lie to yourself, you need his touch, crave it, but it’s a mistake, a big, huge mistake to let him in again. Stop this, chase him out. Kiss him, let him touch you.
Screw it.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he takes it as a chance to slam his lips against yours so vigorously, it takes your breath away. You brush your fingers through his hair, ruffling his bun, and he grabs you by your waist to push you further against the door. He sneaks his hands to your lower back, and you instantly know what he wants. You wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you by your ass, squeezing the fat your absurdly short jams aren't able to hide.
“So fuckin’ soft.” Eren whispers in your ear, kissing your earlobe and going down the side of your neck. You relish in the way his mouth sucks on your skin, leaving marks you know would be there for days to come. He loved it when he marked you. He wanted everyone to know that you were his.
A moan of his name reverberates through the air when he licks a long stripe down your neck to your collar bone, traveling straight to Eren’s dick. And so, a leap of courage enters his body when he cups your sex with his palm, enjoying your little gasp when he presses his hand firmly against it.
“Gonna let me fuck your tight pussy, baby?” Another moan, this time coming from somewhere deep within, leaves your lips, and it pulls a smirk from his. “Gotta tell me with your big girl words, ‘kay?”
There he was. The person he became under the sheets, the one with no filter and so much confidence, it made your cheeks the darkest of reds.
“Open that pretty mouth and tell me.”
“I want..”
“You want..?”
“I- fuck- I want yo- oh!” He rubs his clothed dick against your heat while your body is still crushed against the door, massaging your clit.
“Feels good?”
“Shit, i-it does..” it’s no point hiding it anymore, the slick between your legs already smearing against your panties and shorts for him to feel.
“Want it to feel better?” He’s still rubbing himself all over you, knowing damn well you’re way past the point of refusing him.
“Fuck me, c’mon, just-“
You needn’t say anything more than that. He lets go of your legs to give you a harsh, sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip, a move that sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. He quickly removes your shorts and panties down your thighs, kneeling to get a look at what he's been craving for the past week.
“She's dripping.” He uses his fingers to gently pull your pussy lips apart and catch the watering sight of your cunt.
“All that talk..” he moves his thumb across your swollen clit, “and now this?”
“Fuck you.” You grit through your teeth, shuddering from his touch.
“You’re about to.” He snickers, beginning to draw circles around your cunt, watching you squirm above him. You curse inwardly for being so weak, your only thoughts being how desperately you want to ride his smug face. And it’s so uncanny how he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
“Want my tongue in there, hm?” He tilts his head upwards to look at your flushed face, breathing hitched as you wait for him to fuck you with his tongue.
“Well, don’t mind if I do..”
He’s plunging that long, slick muscle of his until it reaches your entrances, chuckling at the guttural moan that passes your lips. You’re already a mess and he hasn’t even started fucking you yet.
“Ride my face.” His tone is commanding but you don’t care, it only contributes to your arousal and the rapidness of your heartbeat. You begin to move back and forth on his tongue while he watches you with hooded eyes from bellow, moaning from your taste. You grip his hair with both hands and pick a pace, getting yourself off and waiting for the rush to hit. It was going to be powerful, you knew that much from the burning feeling in your tummy that slowly but surely traveled to the place you most wanted it to.
“Oh fuck, Eren” you whine, throwing your head back against the door while you continue to pleasure yourself on his tongue, “I’m ‘bout to- fuck -I’m ‘bout to cum!”
What you get in response is something you can only compare to an animalistic growl, followed by his fingers plunging into the fat of your thighs, trying to steady himself as you lose your mind above him.
“‘m cumming!” you gasp out as your legs barely hold you from falling, the intensity of your orgasm making you bend your knees and hold onto Eren for support. It takes all your strength away and leaves you limp in his arms as he carries you to your bedroom and unbuckles his pants like someone’s chasing him.
He throws his clothes onto the floor, moving in front of you on the bed as you mewl out his name when his leaking tip probes against your entrance.
“Haven’t felt this pussy in so long.” He moves his head along your puffy clit, still feeling your swollen lips throb from your orgasm.
“We fucked last week.” You say with closed eyes and your head against your pillow, amazed at how rock-hard his cock is.
“Felt like forever.” He pushes in with a hiss and your mouth is falling wide open from the stretch. It really does feel like forever, his cock ready to tear you apart no matter how many times you'd taken it before. “There you go, swallowing it all up.” He smirks as he watches the way his length disappears inside your tight walls, placing a harsh smack on your ass. He turns both your legs to the side, pushing them down with his palm, his hips beginning to move.
“So damn tight, shit” he throws his head back, grip tightening around the back of your knees as he pumps his cock into you. Your tits begin to bounce because of the fast pace, slapping against your skin, and he swears it’s the hottest thing ever, along your pretty cherry lips and the way they’ve parted so your moans can spill out. “You know nobody else could give it to you like I do.”
You bite your lip when his tip pushes against your g-spot, not gracing him with a response. Which isn’t left unnoticed.
Your left leg is quickly moved to its rightful side, Eren’s hand going to the back of your head so he can fist your ponytail, yanking it forward until you squeak and are able to see the way he absolutely ravishes your pussy.
“You don’t think so, huh?” He’s forcing you to look, to see just how fast he moves in and out, amazed at the bulge of his cock inside your belly, “Tell me, who else could make you babble like that, hm?”
Your lips might draw blood from how hard you're biting them, eyebrows screwed together, desperate whimpers the only sounds you can manage because his thrusts become hard, so hard, you’re sure you can feel him in your deepest core.
“Can’t even answer. Am I fuckin’ you stupid, baby girl?”
He pushes your head further down until it almost bumps into his abs.
“Fuck, Eren, it’s too hard-“ he’s not letting you finish your words, yanking your ponytail downward until you’re forced to look up at him and his predatory gaze.
“And you’re gonna take it, right?” His eyes are ablaze, locking contact with yours, bewitching you. He still holds your hair with one hand, while two of his other fingers tap twice on your flushed cheek. “Open up.”
You do as you’re told, opening your mouth like a good little student, pussy throbbing at what you think he’s about to do.
“Want my spit or my cum?”
“Both!” Your answer is so quick, Eren is left with no choice but to chuckle.
“Thought so.” He pushes his pointer and middle finger inside your mouth, still fucking you at a merciless pace. “Not gonna give you my cum yet, tho. Think there’s another place I wanna fill it with.”
Your eyes widen at the thought. Yes, you know it’s wrong, but you want it, want it so bad, it’s beyond your control.
“I think you’d like that better.” He removes his fingers and roughly grips your jaw, his cheeks hollowed when a string of saliva leaves his lips and enters your mouth. He mutters a low “fuck” when you swallow it. “What do you say?”
“Thank you.”
“Mhm.” Your obedience only earns a slap to one of your bouncing tits, rough hands going to the back of your neck and interlocking his fingers behind it, holding it in place as he rams inside you like you’re his own personal fleshlight.
“You like watching?” He talks down on you, feeling your folds squeezing him in after every sentence, “Getting used like my little cum slut, hm?”
There’s mirth in his otherwise stern voice, and you just know he’s enjoying this, the way you’re falling apart for him after pushing him away for a whole week. He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him long.
“Wanted to leave me, baby? Give my cock to some other girl?” Your head shoots upwards in an instant, eyes wide with a mix of shock and anger. And by the low laugh he lets out, you get that that was just what he wanted. “Now, now, don’t get mad. You and I both know no other pussy could take me like this.”
God, you want to break up with the guy, you really do, but just the thought of him fucking someone else the way he does you could make you straight up murder someone. You don’t know what comes over you, but when you reach to grab him by his shoulders and push him on top of you on the bed, you sink them as hard as you can into his sun-kissed skin.
“Fuck!” Eren wails into your ear, the pain from your long nails and the pleasure from your drenched cunt sending him straight to cloud nine. You can’t help but smile devilishly into his shoulder, he definitely deserves the scratches that are going to grace his soft skin for at least two weeks.
“You enjoyed that, huh?” He switches positions in a flash until you’re on top of him and he’s holding you in place by your ass cheeks. “Do it again. Be rough with me.” He takes your tiny hand and moves it to the base of his neck, encircling your fingers around it. “Squeeze, come on.” He encourages by driving his hips upwards into your heat, making you cry out, knowing he just hit the spot that could make you absolutely lose it.
You apply pressure to his neck, feeling it pulsate in your palm, and he starts moving again, rushing his cock into you. “Harder.”
You listen, squeezing that pretty neck of his and watching as Eren’s jaw ticks in response to the pressure, and oh is it an image. It’s moments like these when you truly appreciate his beauty and think that maybe, just maybe all the toxicity is worth getting loved and fucked by this beautiful, flawed man.
“I can cum like this, just keep squeezin’” his voice is strained, shaky even, you really put your strength into it because you knew just how much pleasure it was giving you both, with Eren thrusting inside you as hard as he could, “C’mon, stay still and squeeze my neck, that’s it.”
You put your whole body weight into the hand that is wrapped around his neck, your thoughts flying out of your head as you feel him reaching his peak. It’s too much, his cock is entering you too fast, and you’re not even able to stand up straight anymore, “Eren, I can't hold on much longer, fuck-”
You feel a stinging pain on your right cheek, his palm having just made contact with the skin. “I said you were gonna take it, didn't I?” The shock he sees on your face only makes him snicker, “Like the nasty girl you are.”
Releasing your hold on him, you move your hand to gather the force you need to strike him right back, but he's quicker, catching it, pushing you onto the mattress, and sliding right back into your slick walls.
“Now, slapping’s where I cross the line” he pins both of your wrists on the bed, slamming himself inside you so deeply, it feels like he wants to live there, “You see, I'm not a slut, baby” you clench your jaw, glaring at him, but when his thrusts speed up to the point your whole body begins to bounce on the hard mattress, you’re only able to whine and close your eyes shut, orgasm approaching with full force, “Only filthy sluts get slapped across the face like that.”
His low chuckles get jumbled with your desperate whining, and you hate yourself for getting pushed over the edge with the help of his obscene words, but it does happen, and soon you find yourself screaming his name and squirting your cum all around his cock, while he’s still mercilessly hammering it into your cervix.
“There it is, let go on this fucking dick, it’s all yours.”
You’re still cumming and contracting around him when you cry out, “Fucking give it to me Eren, fuck, fuck, fuck-“
Last words get lost somewhere on the road because Eren is next, his hips losing control as he marks your walls with his warm cum, whining from how strong his high is. He doesn’t stop even when you’re sure he’s given you all he has to give, filling you up to the brim with his load, continuing to slowly rock his hips into you.
“Holy shit,” his voice is barely a whisper, and you’re still so out of it, you can’t concentrate on anything else but the feeling of his cum dripping down to your ass, “you were so fuckin’ good for me, love.”
He places a soft kiss on your cheek, gathering your face in his hands to look at your droopy eyes, “Hey, pretty girl. You okay?”
A tired nod is all you manage to give him, but it is enough to pull a tiny smile from his full lips, “That’s good.” It’s so bizarre how this same person was the one fucking you into oblivion just minutes before, talking to you like you were nothing more than a filthy whore, but is now staring at you with the most intense, loving eyes, those emeralds of his pulling at your heartstrings. After a moment, he looks down at your lips, his expression turning sorrowful, “Want me to go?”
You should want him to. You should tell him that this doesn’t change anything and that you’re sure there is nothing he could do to make up for all the damage he’s caused to your relationship. But instead, your heart screams at you to let him stay, to let him take care and love you like he said he would.
“No…”
Eren tries to contain the happiness that simple word evokes in him, nodding twice in acknowledgment, then lying on your side to cuddle you into his arms. He whispers adoring words and gentle praises into your ear, and it’s what causes you to drowse off into a much needed sleep.
The next few weeks are something out of a dream. Everything is different. Eren is different. Showering you with gifts, letting you have all the space you need, that includes going out with your friends, doing the things you love, and then being there for you when you need him. And, as the days go by, you become as you were at the beginning of your relationship, too in love to pay attention to anyone or anything else, just locking yourselves inside your own little world.
But even so, you still can’t help but wonder.. where the hell did that glittery notebook go?
.....
A/N: Never did I ever think I would one day write about toxic Eren, but here he is. I guess that's the mood I'm in🙄 God he’s so manipulative but also so hot, it’s like damn. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this fucker<3
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witheredallium · 10 days
Text
Thank You, Clyde
(I could not find the original post. However, this fic is based on the idea that Clyde could mimic Lewis Williams/William Lewis' voice for Alex. Be prepared, it's a bit longer than my normal fics.)
Being on the run allowed time for a lot of thinking. Alex thought about many things; Clyde, Winfrey, Lankmann, Patient 66, the situation they were in, etc. The thing that came with a wave of grief every time they thought about it, was their brother, Lewis Williams. 
Lewis was the best little brother that Alex could ask for. They got along well, he was well-behaved, had many friends at school, and tried his hardest to make Alex proud. After the death of their parents, Alex had taken care of Lewis for a few years before his untimely death. Although Alex had seemed put together in that news segment, they were internally shattered to pieces. 
His death hurt less now, but sometimes the grief just came around every once in a while to punch them in the gut. It’s been happening more often now since Alex and Clyde were on the run. When they did think about Lewis, Alex wondered what he would think of where they were now; hanging out with the creature that killed him. How fucked up was that? They often thought that Lewis would be rolling in his grave at the thought. Then, they would remember that there was no grave for Lewis or the other children at all.
Alex hadn’t even noticed that they were crying until Clyde loudly cleared its throat. They wiped their eyes furiously, they hadn’t cried about Lewis in months. 
Clyde watched the human in mild concern, wondering if being on the run was getting to them. “What are you thinking about?”
“Thinking about my dead brother, Lewis,” Alex sniffled lightly. 
Clyde didn’t know how it had never made the connection before. Alex was Lewis William’s older sibling. And Clyde had killed him. 
Clyde had never felt any grief or remorse for the ones he had killed until that moment. Clyde never got particularly close with any of the humans he killed, but this situation was different. One of its closest frie- companions had been harmed by his actions. However, it then realized that it would have never met Alex unless he had killed Lewis, so it felt a little less bad. Despite that, Alex was still upset and Clyde did not know how to handle an upset human.
Suddenly, Clyde was hit with an idea.
“You can absolutely say no to this, but I can mimic his voice and create a hallucination of him for you. You could at least talk to him one last time,” Clyde suggested quietly.
“That’s kind of fucked up, but you’d really do that for me?” Alex sniffles again, eyes wet with unshed tears.
Clyde nodded, “Whenever you’re ready.”
Alex hops down from the tree they are hiding in. They knew it was probably unsafe to be so in the open, but they would rather fall to their knees on the ground than fall from the tree. Alex whispers almost inaudibly, “I’m ready.”
Suddenly, a small dirty blond-haired boy appeared in front of Alex. He looked disorientated for a moment before locking onto Alex’s face.
“Allie!” the boy cried, racing toward his older sibling.
“Oh, Lew,” Alex almost choked out a sob. They crouched and held their arms out for a hug for just a moment before realizing they couldn’t do that. As real as Lewis looked, he was just a hallucination. Alex frowned for a half second before smiling again at the young boy.
“Allie, don’t be sad, I’m right here!” Lewis beamed as if that would take all the pain away. He was still in his Halloween costume, Alex noted. They had saved up for Lewis’ Halloween costume and were so excited to take pictures of the boy, but they never got the chance before he was taken. Lewis noticed Alex checking out his costume. “I love my Halloween costume. It must have been a lot of money.”
Alex nodded, “It took me a bit to save up for it, but you had been doing so well in school that I thought you deserved something nice.”
Lewis sits in front of Alex’s crouched form, “You didn’t have to do that, y’know. I’m grateful for all you do for me.”
“I know, bud,” Alex sits down fully. “But, doing special things for you made me feel good because it made you happy. And I love you so much, I would’ve hated to see you upset.”
“I love you, too,” the boy smiled. “But I have to go very soon, my friends are waiting for me.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Friendship is very important,” Alex sighs. “I’m sorry I ended up in this situation, I hope you can forgive me. I just have to survive for now and Clyde is the only way for me to do that. I love you so much, Lewis.”
The boy smiled and tilted his head, “I could never be mad at you. I love you, too, Alex.”
And the boy faded away.
Alex had been holding everything in, so the moment Lewis disappeared, Alex began sobbing. Fat hot tears trickled down their face. Snot clogged their nose, making it hard to breathe. Alex almost threw up. They had worked so hard for that boy. They had struggled with taking care of him while Alex still had to finish high school and work a job to make ends meet. Alex worked so hard and he died.
Clyde hadn’t anticipated such a visceral reaction from Alex. It quickly and not so gracefully landed on the ground and wrapped Alex in a blanket. Alex hardly, if at all, acknowledged the action.
“Shit,” the veldigun sat in front of the human. “Can you hear me, Alex?”
Alex coughed harshly and nodded. “Okay. Uh… everything is fine. Just try to follow my breathing.”
It took several minutes for Alex to calm down. Even as they did, it seemed as though they were dazed and unfocused. The veldigun carefully placed its claws on the blanket covering Alex, hoping that the pressure would ground them. Slowly, they raised their eyes to Clyde’s and spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand,” the veldigun looked confused. “What are you sorry for?”
Alex sighs, “Because you had to see me like this and I used you for something so selfish.”
Clyde removes its claws from Alex’s shoulders. “Eh, I’ve done worse to others. Plus, I’m using you for something selfish, too. Least I could do.”
Alex chuckles mirthlessly, “That doesn’t reassure me… but, thanks for doing what you did, though.”
“Like I said, the least I could do.”
The rest of the day was slow and uneventful. Clyde silently made plans on how to get food for the night while watching over Alex’s sleeping body. It had thought about running off to steal hot chocolate from somebody’s house but decided that he shouldn’t leave the human all alone. Another thing that crossed its mind was to sneak back to Alex’s house to get their scrapbook. It knew it would have to do that soon. Being on the run was difficult for the veldigun and it had no idea how the human would continue to respond to such dire circumstances. Getting the album would put Alex into higher spirits so they could keep surviving, Clyde justified, and not at all about the fact that sometimes it needed to see a smile on Alex’s face.
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persage · 2 years
Text
CAN YOU STAY WITH ME TONIGHT?- S. HARRINGTON
Summary: It's a rainy night when Steve Harrington knocks on your door for help. This time, however, it has nothing to do with the upside down and its monsters but that doesn't make things any easier.
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Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader
Words Count: 2.5k
Warnings: None, just Steve's shitty parents, some angst with comfort and the breakdown our boy deserves. Hopper!Reader. Let's pretend Hopper never "dies" at the end of season 3. (set between s3/4)
He can see it in the distance, warm and familiar. At every step the Hopper house is closer and you with it. In the dark of the night Steve Harrington needs you like never before. The rain beats quickly against his jacket as he runs fast, regretting not having taken the car and having decided to run away on foot, like an unconscious stupid child. If he lived in a normal city, he might  be afraid of catching a cold or a fever at most, but he lives in Hawkins since and November 6th 1983, the day Will Byers disappeared, he has much more to fear. He knows that rationally nothing has happened for months, that you are theoretically safe, that you have overcome the Russians and the Mind Flayer, but every time something terrible has been thrown at you it has been when you felt the safest. He trembles. He should have at least taken the bat, which he keeps under the bed, but he ran away from that hell of the house without thinking and immediately found himself running to you, like an unstoppable impulse.
To say you've had a hell of a night would be an understatement. His tear soaked face is red and puffed, his hair disheveled and even if he's been running he's cold, lips chapped and he just wanna stop moving and sleep. It seems like an eternity goes by before reaching the familiar doorstep. Though the hour, he knocks at the door and it doesn't even occur to him that the Chief Hopper can open it in your place. Also he is ashemed of being seen this way by you,  but by your dad ... It would much more embarrassing.
Luckily what he sees after a few minutes and a few reminders is your sleepy and confused face.
"Steve? What's wrong?" You ask as you open the door. You haven't looked at him well yet, not enough to realize he just cried, you rub your eyes to wipe out sleep, your hair is unkempt, the pajama you are wearing is turned upside down and you seem to have the pillow still glued to your face . Guilt grips Steve's heart.
I shouldn't have come. He thinks. He needs to go away, is nothing important.
Sorry y/n, it is nothing, I'm going home. But what comes out of his lips is something else. "Can I stay here, tonight?" He asks, his voice trembling. Idiot Steve.
Your brows knit together with concern as you let the door open fully. "Of course. My dad is working late so it's just us. What happened?" You look him up and down, resting yout hand on his chest once the door is shut. You finally notice his eyes swollen with tears, despite the rain you can clearly distinguish his tears. Something between his chest and stomach tightens. A lump rises in your throat.
You never saw Steve cry, not when Billy beat him, not when Nancy left him, not when he was tortured by the Russians. Something very serious must have happened and you are afraid to know it, because the person in front of you, even if he does not know it, is the human  you care about most in the world. The same one you were willing to die for so many times. When you stood between him and Billy, when you stood by his side in the tunnels, when you offered to take his place during the you never managed to stop him from hurting himself.
And now, again, something has already happened to him and you are here, helpless. You can only listen to him.
"I.. I shouldn't... I didn't know and... I just. It's raining." He avoids eye contact as his voice shakes as well as his hands. You grab them, squeezing them with both of yours. They are cold and wet. "You're all wet Stevie, you're gonna catch a cold." You say in the sweetest tone. He lets out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have come".
"No, no don't say that. We're gonna get you into some dry clothes and get that cut cleaned up, alright?" You rub your thumb over his cheek, pulling it away to show the trail of crimson liquid. Steve haven't even noticed he was hurt, he is just so used to it.
Even if you are shorter then him, you awkwardly try to put an arm around his shoulders to warm him. Steve lets out a little laugh and you let an arm slide along his side and bring him closer to you as if you need him to have both hands on him in fear that if you let go, he'll fall completely apart.
You walk him to your room signing him to be quiet for El who is sleeping in the near room. You pick out a red sweatshirt that he lent you once and you never gave him back and some unlikely basketball shorts that must have belonged to your dad when he was young  and they certainly won't fit him well but as they are but it's your best option. Steve doesn't know how to describe the feeling while he hold the clothes in his arms waiting for you to leave him, it is just that they make him feel safe. They have your scent.
"You change and I'll get some stuff to clean the cut, yeah?" You say, gently caressing his face and regretting it a second later. Sometimes your releshionship confuses you: he's not your boyfriend, not even near to be, but you are way more tan friends. And he ran to you. In the moment of need he ran to you, it must mean something. But on the other hand then there's Robin ans this symbiotic relationship that she and Steve share that you don't understand and it scares you, also because she's awesome in so many ways and you really really like her. You don't wanna be jealous, you just  can't help it.
Steve nods and watches you leave hesitantly. He knows he must have scared you, showing up out of nowhere, late at night, and he knows you must have understood something is very wrong. Steve feels weak near you, like he doesn't need to hide his fears anymore, like he can finally break down and that's what worries him the most. He doesn't want to be a burden and he doesn't want you to change your mind about him. When you return Steve is sitting shyly on your bed, twiddling with his fingers.
"Alright, here we go." You state, walking back into the room with hands full of band-aids, gauze, hydrogen peroxide
"What happened Stevie?" You ask sitting beside him, so close you can feel his still cold skin against yours.
He takes a deep breath and remains silent.
"I am ready to challenge my father's wrath and let you stay tonight and you know he will kill me for it but you must confide in me, please. You can trust me." You continue while with dedication you cleanse his cheek of stale blood.
"I hit a mirror. And I broke it." He explains in a low voice, finally finding the courage to look into your eyes.
"Yeah" You hold stare back at him, his eyes full of shame, fear, a broken heart. "And how did you hit a mirror with your pretty face Steve? "
He clears his throat to stop the trembling of his voice. "I had a fight with my father"
When will you grow up?
When will you work for real?
You make me regret having you, stupid boy.
You're useless
You're a shame for the Harrington name.
" He ... He found out that I'm not going to leave Family Video soon and ... He freaked out. You know my, my cousin Trent  has just graduated he'll have to take care of the family business and I... I'm just too stupid for this shit."
"What did he do to you?" You struggle to control the anger in your voice and squeeze the gauze  too tightly. This time it's Steve grabbing yours hands to calm you down.
"He didn't do anything to me. He didn't beat me Y/N if that's what you are thinking, he never did and he never would"
"But you hit a mirror" Your voice holds pieces of breaking heart and anger.
"He pushed me, I slipped. I swear to you"
"It's not that better anyway. He pushed you, he makes you feel stupid, he... Doesn't even try to understand you Steve. This is not fair, you deserve better" Your voice goes up an octave, you just want to scream at Steve's parents, to make them see how wonderful thier son is. You always knew that his family never protected, loved or valued Steve as he deserves but seeing him in this state annihilates you.
" You're the only one who thinks that y/N. Sometimes I've got the feeling that you don't actually see me for who I am" Steve chuckles, but behind that sound there is nothing happy, just a lot of loneliness. "Steve we all believe you deserve the world. Robin, Dustin, the kids. Me. I've seen you fight monsters, Russians, I've seen you save everyone. I know you, I've seen you take care of Dustin and the others and be the most generous and courageous person in the world. You don't want to run a company, and that's okay so it doesn't make you any less important, less strong or valuable. Please, please believe me "
"I can't" He murmors voice breaking. He brings his hands to his face to calm down. He feels like crying.
"I can't y/n" You hang your head slightly with disappointment, while caressing his soft hair.
"He kicked me out of the house." He adds, whispering.
His chin wrinkles, his eyes burn ready for tears to start streaming as your heart falls with his.
His pain is yours.
You no longer care about keeping appearances and distances. You throw yourself on Steve stepping him in the tightest of hugs, tying your arms around his neck and resting your head on his, kissing his hair while Steve Harrington lets himself go against your chest, collapsing into a cry that has been held back for years. He cries for Barb, for Nancy, for himself and the little boy he was. He cries for the blows he took, for the mistakes he made, for Jonathan with whom he was an asshole, for the mistakes he has not forgiven himself. For high school Robin. For the Russians, for Billy and Max, poor little Max. He cries because the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he is not even able to be a worthy son, to be strong and now he throws it all on you. He cries for you, because he knows that now he can do nothing to keep you away from him, to give you better. You love him, otherwise you would have already kicked him out, you would see his flaws. Like his father you would find him useless.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers against your body, sobbing his heart out.
"No, no, no don't be. Ever.
We'll find a solution I swear my Dad will help us"
"I don't want ... I don't want Chief Hopper to get in the way ... I don't want ..."
"Steve my father adores you and is grateful to you and will be happy to help you. You have saved my life a thousand times. You save me every day to be fair"
You move away wiping his tears with your thumb, looking at him with admiration, as if he were the most precious thing on earth. Steve lets himself be lulled into this unknown sensation. "We will talk about it tomorrow with my father and we will solve everything"
"Yeah." He agrees softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you y/n. Thank you"
"Don't ." Your voice is soft but scratchy. "Don't ever thank me for this Harrington. This is what we do. We're there for each other, no matter what."
He nods once as you hold his head in your hands
"And listen to me, please. You are worth, you are precious and you deserve the world"
"It's you, you are precious" he leans to you, his forehead now touching yours.
Your voice shakes "You are loved" You murmor as you help him lay down on your bed, arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. "Now sleep, you need it Stevie boy"
"If your father finds us like this he'll kills us"
"Oh Harrington I'd be ready to die for a night with you"
You answer ironically. Or maybe not.
"I left him a note on the door. He'll know you're here and you need us." You continue.
"y/n"
"Yes Steve"
"You are loved too."
He smiles while closing his eyes,  letting himself go to the peace you give him. He loves you, he really does.
You make him feel better even if he still has a dad outside who hates him and a mother who can't stand up for him and even if his problems are not gonna disappear this night, for a few hours with your breath against his skin and your hands on him the seem to weight less on his shoulders and he he feels a little less useless and unworthy. You're his saving grace and the light of his life and maybe one day he will be able to tell properly.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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this is PLATONIC. love can be platonic. and that’s what this is. if i see anything non-platonic stobin tagged in my rbs, i will delete this.
this is inspired of that quote from dolly alderton, “nearly everything i’ve known about love i’ve learned in my long time friendships with women.” i said the word love so many times, it’s not real anymore.
anw, happy stobin month. their friendship means so much to me. so here’s something sappy.🍦
-
“What is love?” El asks him, with that bright eye curiosity that makes her— that makes her the best of them all in more ways than one.
Steve blinks at her, dropping the whisk he’s holding and thinks.
What is love?
It’s easy.
Steve smiles to himself as he thinks of a time where he would have floundered for an answer, searched for it in the empty corners of his heart and home, in the unblinking red light on the voice machine; waiting for something, anything.
Nearly everything Steve Harrington knows about love he has learned from Robin Buckley.
First, Steve learns how to fall in love with the most unlikely person in the crowd. Robin was, and will always be a better person than him. From her, he learns how to fall in love, admit it, and accept the fact that it won’t always get reciprocated. That’s okay, because in exchange of that rejection, would be something better than he could ever imagine.
Love is a friend. A real friend.
Second, Steve learns that love— is love. It isn’t something meant to be put into a box, it isn’t just one thing. It’s not just girls for boys, or boys for girls. It’s for everyone, it’s for anything your heart wants.
And when he finally came to the realization that he didn’t fit that box too, Robin held him for hours. Assured him that it’s okay, that if that’s who he is, she will still love him because of it, never despite it.
Love is being true to yourself. It’s freedom while being held by your person.
Third, Steve learns that love can be quiet. It’s not always hiding under the covers as your parents fight from across the room, it’s not loud pounding music as the love of your life tells you that you’re bullshit.
It can be found in quiet afternoons, while reading a book with your best friend. It can be found in quiet evenings, as you both try to paint in silence. It was sitting, in a field behind a stolen RV, making molotovs in silence, both terrified they’d be dead tomorrow. It can be found in the middle of the night, after a terrifying, too real nightmare, just bundled together holding each other's hand.
Love is quiet. It’s peaceful and content, even when its hard.
Fourth, Steve learns that love— the real one— doesn’t have an expiration date. He once thought that it’s always been like that, that for him it’s always been meant to be like that. There is an end date. That one day day everyone he loves will realize what he truly is… bullshit. Like when his parents started to learn that he was too much, and too little of what they want and needed, they started leaving more often or when Nancy realized she deserved someone better, it’s over.
Maybe, he’s still waiting for the day when Robin finally realizes that she’s so much better than him, that she could find someone better, that Steve can’t really be her platonic soulmate. Because soulmates— God— they’re two halves of one whole. But how could he ever live up to that? He doesn’t think he could ever, not when Robin’s got all the good parts when they were split into half.
But there’s an unspoken trust. A tiny voice in Steve’s head that tells him, above all the noise and self loathing, a voice that sounds so similar to Robin’s says, “Robin won’t do that to you. Not ever.”
He holds onto that voice, clutches at it with shaking hands.
Love is… Love is there. And you will pray, and hope, and beg that it never leaves. But love is also trust, so you hold on with that blind faith.
Fifth, Steve learns that the best love— it’s in the in betweens.
Love is when Steve’s having the worst migraine, so Robin cleans the store for him instead. It’s when his best friend got him a brownie, because she thought he’d like it. It’s when his bestfriend brushed his hair after a rough night, even if it’s drenched in sweat and tears. It’s the scar in his thumb from when the vodka bottle broke as they made molotovs. It’s when she finally snaps and locks him and Eddie in the pantry so they can talk about their feelings. It’s her weirdly proud smile when she opens the pantry, and they’re making out like their lives depended on it.
It’s popcorn stuck in between the couch from movie nights. It’s paint stains in his favorite blue jeans from the one night they painted his room. It’s the chip on the plate when they were eating and she chipped it from laughing so hard. It’s that old post note on the fridge that says, “Got you milk, Dingus!” that he never removed.
Steve Harrington has learned of love from everyone. From Dustin, to Max, to Eddie, to the rest of the kids. Even Hopper and Joyce, from Nancy and Jonathan. In some ways, he’s learned from his parents too.
It’s all different.
But in his core. In his truest core, in his deepest soul.
It’s all from Robin Buckley.
El is still looking at him, with a fond smile, like she can see the montage playing in his head. You know what? Maybe she does see it.
“What is love?” Steve repeats her question.
El hums, nodding.
“Love is a U.S.S Butterscotch Sundae.”
El giggles at his answer as Steve winks at her.
Steve turns to the open window above the sink. There’s laughter coming from the yard, where the kids are playing in the pool. Eddie’s reading Nancy a book, as Jonathan and Argyle lounge around.
Steve meets Robin’s eyes, and she smiles at him, raises a hand to wave at him.
Steve waves back at love personified.
(In Steve’s room, there’s an old recipe book. Given to him by his Grandmother, it’s filled with different recipes, some 50 years older than him, some newer. There’s a piece of paper tucked in between the pages, with a blue and white border and a little sailor hat. It’s stained from use and dirt. It’s not old, it’s not new, it’s from two summers ago. It’s a handwritten recipe with a note at the bottom.
Harrington,
I wrote this down because you kept forgetting the freaking recipe for the USS butterscotch sundae. Keep it with you, you dingus.
Buckley.)
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aliaology · 8 months
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GET HIM BACK!
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summary: reader wants to get her ex boyfriend, luke hughes, back in order to get her revenge.
pairings: luke hughes x ex!fem!reader
warnings: jealousy, arguments, mentions of sex
based on ‘get him back’ by olivia rodrigo
THIS IS NOT HOW LUKE HUGHES ACTS. this is just for the plot, i have no idea how he acts outside of hockey and media!
you met luke in the summer of 2021. he was at the michigan lake house, and you were visiting your friends house who lived just next door. the boy accidentally hit a volleyball over to your friends house and from there the two of you blossomed.
though, the relationship was quite toxic, causing you to leave him the next spring, just before you could meet his parents. the two of you argued over everything, him normally starting it.
“are you fucking serious, y/n?” luke groaned, throwing your phone on the bed. you looked confused. “what the fuck did i do?”
“i dont know— maybe snap my fucking brother twenty four-seven?” luke snapped. you rolled your eyes.
“we just send pics to keep a fucking streak going, luke, why is this such a big deal?” you groaned.
“because you’re talking to other guys, what if you’re cheating?”
you scoffed and crossed your arms, “so you don’t trust me?”
not to mention, he had a huge ego, thanks to being the number four pick of the 2021 nhl draft. along with the many, many girls who loved him online. would they love his personality? probably not.
maybe another part of his shitty personality was the wandering eye he had. the way his eyes would drift to look at another girls chest or ass, it was embarrassing.
but, he was fun. fun at parties, fun at sex, fun at it all, and so were his weird friends. you personally favored dylan duke and mark estapa, but no one would find that out.
he took you out to many parties, bars, clubs. and when he said something wrong in front of his friends, he’d buy you something like tickets for a small vacation.
but there are nights where you miss him, until you remember how he would hit on all of your best friends. do you love him or do you hate him? its… up and down.
but right now, you wanted him back. to get him back, to get revenge. he deserved to feel mad, sad and jealous, everything you felt the entire relationship. it should get him back.
so you started to write letters, but after you would just throw them in the trash. all you talked about in the letters was how much you missed his touch and kiss, and how making you laugh was a bonus.
then when you tried texting him, you didn’t have the balls to say anything because you knew how disappointed your friends would be.
he was toxic, and you were not the only girl. you remember the time where you decided to try communicating your feelings.
“baby, can we talk?” you asked, walking behind him, he sat on the couch, eyes fixated on his game.
“what?” he spoke, fingers ferociously clicking his controller.
“recently, the way you’ve been just doesn’t feel fair, luke. i’ve been putting my all into us and i dont get the same treatment back, it hurts.”
luke scoffed, “you’re trippin’ babe”
but maybe you could fix him? scratch that. maybe you could key his car? or break his heart? or punch him?
then again, you could fix him.. with the nice route. instead of breaking his heart, you stitch it right back up. or kiss him. or make him lunch.
how about you meet his mom? but instead of telling her how good he was, you tell her how much her son fucking sucks.
you did. you met up with her— on complete accident. according to her, luke had not told anyone you broke up with him. he made up a fake excuse saying your family needed you for the summer.
you almost laughed in her face.
you almost laughed after she stormed out of the cafe, learning how her you her son was a prick. and you definitely laughed when you got the text from jack telling you how much shit, luke got.
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time to work on coach part two xx
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