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#but is very happy to confirm when offered a way to do so in a language he can be comfortable with
heavenlyvision · 2 days
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reverence pairing: bi-han/reader wc: 1.1k warnings: 18+ only, smut, cunnilingus, kind of angsty but not really, afab!gn!reader, no pronouns or y/n used a/n; this was gonna be only horny but then i listened to too many sad songs and now it has the vibes of two very in love people with unspoken feelings... my bad ! <33 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
It’s early in the morning when you wake, Bi-Han moving around the room, dressing himself for the day has woken you up. He tries to be quiet – and he is – but you’ve developed a keen sense for when he’s trying to leave without bothering you.
Making grabby hands at him, you coax him over, wanting for him to say goodbye properly, he rolls his eyes but obliges and wanders over to you, “Why do I even bother trying to be quiet in the morning?” He sits on the edge of the mattress and leans down to you as you lean up.
Smiling at him, you answer, “I’ve no clue.”
He huffs but pulls you in and holds you close, his large hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back, “I shouldn’t be gone long…”
“…You always say that,” your sleepy voice murmurs against him.
He knows you’re right but he can’t help it, he means it every time he says it though and you know that much. There aren’t any words he can offer you right now, so instead, he tucks his head into your neck and presses soft kisses against your skin. His lips trailing the expanse of your neck, your head dips back to give him more room. They start off innocent, light, a show of affection more than anything else, but he can’t help himself and ends up nipping at your skin, the blunt feel of his teeth pulls a shudder from you, one that Bi-Han relishes in.
Soft sighs pass your lips as he leaves a trail of wet marks, reminders of where he’s been, taking his time with you despite his presence being required elsewhere. Slowly, he makes his way to your face and gently pecks both your cheeks before eventually pressing his lips to yours, his kiss consuming and deep. The words he can’t speak shared in this moment together, all of his feelings for you, his borderline reverence for you, it’s all here, in how he cradles you, in how he kisses you. He’s everything to you and you’re everything to him, you’ve never doubted that.
It's moments like this where you remember why you stay, you stay even when he infuriates you, even when he leaves without saying goodbye, even when he makes decisions you can’t begin to understand. You stay through it all because in moments like this, he reminds you just how much he–
“I revere you,” his forehead rests on yours, his words shock you sightly. Not the content but the suddenness.
You try playing off his abrupt admission, huffing a slight laugh, “Where is Bi-Han and what have you done with him?”
He frowns, “I’m serious.”
As happy as his words make you, they also make you uneasy, “…I know that...”
“My feelings will never change,” he mumbles softly, his lips trailing the side of your face.
“Never?” you whisper in question.
“Never.” He confirms.
His hands wander, exploring your body, slipping under your pyjamas, pulling at your skin and tugging at your clothes. He silently guides you to lay down, shuffling himself back, he takes your pants off and chucks them to some corner of the room. Looking into your eyes, he checks with you, you feel especially vulnerable right now, this moment feels different from any other time before.
Opening your thighs for him, he takes his place between your legs and turns his face to the side, beginning to mark your skin. His pace is slow and reminiscent of worship, his focus completely on where he is right now, never on where he’s going to be next. You don’t whine, you don’t ask him to move, you don’t rush him.
You feel dizzy and light, like you’re drifting as he does as he pleases. His lips are forgiving and undemanding, his tongue wet and adoring. Making his way to your underwear, he presses his face to your core, nosing at your centre. He mouths at your panties, wetting them, licking at you through the material.
Small noises leave you, sighs and bitten back moans, his hand presses into your stomach, holding you down, stopping you from wriggling away from him. Your panties are wet from your arousal and his insistent mouth. The material sticks to your cunt embarrassingly, it doesn’t stop Bi-Han though, he moves both his hands to spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, opening you up from under your panties, and then he goes back to licking at you through them.
The stimulation of your wet underwear rubbing against your clit has your stomach doing flips, your mind not able to concentrate on anything other than how good it feels. He prods his tongue at your pussy hole, meeting resistance and pushing his face in between your legs impossibly closer.
You don’t ask him for more, you don’t ask for anything, you’re pliable and absent, happy to lay here and be worshiped by his mouth. But he’s lost in you, in everything about you, your scent, your taste, your small sighs of pleasure, your willingness, the softness of your thighs beside his ears, in all honesty he isn’t actively thinking anything other than you, only you. Only ever, you.
Needing more from you though, he slips your panties off, finally sick enough of there hinderance to remove them completely. He resumes his position between your legs quickly, missing the warmth of you almost immediately. The feeling of his tongue on you feels sharp, in comparison to the dull pleasure you were receiving beforehand, this feels direct and overwhelming, almost overstimulating.
He doesn’t stop as you wiggle more insistently, just wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you open, not letting you go anywhere. Lapping at your cunt happily, his tongue reverent in its exploration. Your hands tug at the sheets, fingers almost hurting from the grip you have on them, your eyes closed tight against the pleasure running through your bones.
Your thighs shake either side his head, your eyes dazed and thoughts hazy, thoughts filled with him, of your devotion to him. You twitch in his hold, your cunt pulsing with your impending orgasm, a noise rumbles through him, like he’s delighted by your approaching end. Every muscle pulls tight as you cum, a supressed whimper leaving you with it, your head thrown back into the pillows. If you had the ability to, you would be grinding down onto his face but he holds you still and swallows your release, licking at you as you come down. The slurping noises that come from him make your skin hot to the touch.
He stays between your thighs for a few moments after, relishing in your heat, your warmth. But all at once he seems to become cognizant of the fact he’s meant to be elsewhere right about now and crawls up your body to look into your eyes.
“I am devoted to you, wholly, I will always come home,” he promises.
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thetarttfuldickhead · 10 months
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isaac: protective and loyal as fuck but can’t tell his best friend he loves him
colin: rip to you but i am different
colin: you’re like the third guy i told today
isaac: yeah but—wait who else did you tell?!
colin: michael. my boyfriend michael. yeah i have a boyfriend his name is michael you met him at ola’s.
isaac: … yeah okay makes sense. who else?
colin: jamie
isaac: YOU TOLD JAMIE BEFORE YOU TOLD ME
colin: well he was really supportive and it was after the game and he was hugging me what was i supposed to do
colin: also HE said it back
colin: still you tried to beat that guy up for me so yeah i do know man
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marriedtobigfoot · 8 months
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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
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ventique18 · 3 months
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A few things we learn about Malleus in Platinum Jacket:
He has had many, many tutors over the years who were brought from all over so he would receive only the finest education. He's a genius however, and whatever they taught him he could do better. He would get angry because he thought they were teaching him basics because they were looking down on him and would throw tantrums so terrible he would accidentally raze his grandma's garden with forest fires. Each and every one of his tutors end up packing their bags and resigning in fear of him. 😭 He'd get severely scolded by Lilia because of this.
Deuce comments that while Hades looks terrifying, his minions look goofy in comparison. Malleus tells him to never judge people based on appearances, as they'd never have been painted if they weren't competent. He also likens these minions to his bodyguards and shares how proud he'd be if they were to be lauded by the world and the succeeding generations in the future. (PROUD BIG BRO MOMENT)
He confirms that Briar Kingdom royalty choose their retainers at a certain age, which we can alreaddy conclude by the way he employed his goofy teenage knights and his mom chose the most radical/problematic generals back then.
He doesn't appreciate the servants in his castle waiting on him hand and foot. It's protocol so he can hardly do anything about it, but he was relieved when he enrolled at Night Raven and had to do everything himself.
Lilia instilled in him from a very young age that a person is nothing if they can't properly take care of themselves. He couldn't do this in the castle though, so he instead reads plenty of books on how to do household chores and whatnot. He's delighted to be able to put this knowledge to practical use at NRC.
He does mundane things like shopping and laundry by himself, until Sebek enrolled and tries to steal all his tasks lol. Although he's visibly disappointed, he lets Sebek do what he wants.
He actually knows how to use the washing machine and dryer but only after so many tries and difficulties.
He once washed his clothes in the kitchen sink and got caught doing it. His dormmates offered to do it instead (because he's their god lmao) but he refused because as he said, he likes to exert his own effort for things.
He is a good art critique and appreciates all kinds of art, though his favorite are sculptures. He likes to see the wears and tears of things over the years. He likes to see proof that things lived their lives (even inanimate things!), and that changes and ageing are beautiful.
He once again repeats that he loves gargoyles.
Though he adores the thought of being happy amongst others, he hates it when people are visibly happy and he isn't.
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taeyongdoyoung · 19 days
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summary: your best friend brags complains that he can't get laid due to his huge dick posing a threat to random girls at parties, so you offer to fix his little big problem pairing: soobin x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: explicit language, big dick soobin (canon event), size kink, foreplay, eating out, blowjob, hugging, fingering, size training, creampie, consensual intercourse, kissing, aftercare, allusions to death in a sexual context, lowkey possessive soobin at the end author's note: the killa is on my mind 24/7 and im down bad for soobin 25/8 🥵 so i had to get it out of my system somehow 🤷 word count: 2k
“You’re kidding, right?” you ask your best friend when he makes a rather shocking confession as the two of you are sitting in his bedroom after one of your usual anime marathons.
“I wish I was. But I would never lie to you,” Soobin responds truthfully. His big moist eyes look a 100% genuine but it still sounds so...bizarre.
“Let me get this straight…Every time you try to hook up with a girl at one of those parties Yeonjun keep dragging you to, you go to a room, eat them out like the generous, selfless guy you are, and then after you take off your pants, they get scared by your gigantic cock and refuse to have sex, running away in horror?”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain for the past 10 minutes, yeah,” Soobin confirms with a very adorable pout on his stupid face.
You shake your head in utter disbelief.
“I’m sorry but this is just ridiculous. Any girl would be happy to hook up with a guy that has a huge dick.”
“Well, I guess not any girl ‘cause this shit has happened three times already and I’m at my limit. Why can’t I just get laid?” Soobin bemoans his tragic destiny.
“No, I don’t get it. The least they could do is give you a quickie or something to return the favour. It’s so rude to just sprint away. I can’t believe your cock is that terrifying.”
“Ugh, please stop saying that. It’s so embarrassing,” Soobin covers his face behind his big hands. Hold on a minute…
“If what you’re saying is true, then I think it’s pretty hot. Those girls are surely missing out.”
“Or maybe they’re just looking after themselves. Like…I’m not mad at them for being spooked out, I just wish I could finally get some, you know?” Soobin sighs.
“Death by dick does seem appealing,” you shrug.
“Y/N!” he exclaims.
“Listen, what if I make you an offer? You prove to me that you weren’t exaggerating about your size and I promise I won’t run away and will take care of your…frustrations.”
“Are you seriously suggesting this?” Soobin freaks out. “This could ruin our friendship.”
“I won’t be weird about it, I swear. What do you say?”
“Fuck it. I’m so horny that this actually sounds like a good idea,” Soobin admits. “Can I eat you out first?”
“Erm, if you insist,” you reply, suddenly feeling nervous.
“I just wanna take care of you, make sure you’re all nice and wet for me,” Soobin explains patiently.
“You really don’t have to,” you reassure him.
“I know but it’d be awkward for me to just whip it out. Please?”
“Oh…okay,” you really can’t imagine saying no when he’s asking you so sweetly. God, what did you get yourself into?
Soobin takes off your leggings and panties in one swift movement and pushes you down gently on the bed so you are in a lying position. He spreads your thighs apart and looks at your pussy, already glistening with wetness caused by the conversation you’ve been having. Soobin smirks but doesn’t say anything about it. You’re grateful for that as he dives in, licking and kissing all over you. Fucking hell, if his tongue is capable of making you feel this way, you are slightly unnerved to find out what his cock can achieve. But unlike those girls at the parties, you are determined to never run away from your best friend.
Soon enough, you reach your high, overwhelmed by Soobin’s insane tongue movements and his big hands gripping your thighs. You need a few moments to gather your thoughts and when you are finally able to speak, those are the first words that leave your mouth:
“I think they fleed because you eat pussy like a starved animal. Seriously, what the hell was that?”
Soobin chuckles nervously and runs his fingers through his black hair, pushing it back and exposing his forehead for a bit.
“Trust me, it’s not that.”
“Prove it,” you challenge him even though you are fairly certain he’s telling the truth. Your best friend has never lied to you, so why start now?
Soobin takes off his pants, his hands are shaking and you immediately feel bad. You put your hand on his in an attempt to calm him down.
“Hey, you don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.”
“I do want this, but after so many failed attempts, I’m so anxious…”
“I’m not going anywhere, Soobin,” you insist and squeeze his hand reassuringly.
His skin complexion looks slightly less pale and your words seem to give him the confidence he so desperately needs. Moment of truth. Soobin takes off his boxers and…Oh damn, he was not exaggerating. He’s not just big, he’s so huge a part of you wonders how is it humanly possible to carry such a weapon around and maintain the gentle, humble composure with which Soobin carries himself.
“You’re not running yet,” he jokes.
“Soob?”
“Y-yeah?” his voice cracks, he is obviously terrified of what you’re going to say.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, I finally get why these girls ran away.”
“Oh,” he sounds a little dejected, as if already expecting you to go back on your offer.
“But! That’s not gonna stop me. Just tell me what you want first and I’ll try my best to make you happy.”
“Huh?” Soobin is too flustered to process your words.
“My hands, my mouth, or my pussy, what do you want first?”
“You mean…you’re willing to give me all of them?” he blinks in shock.
This poor, precious boy. Did he really face disappointment so many times that he is now looking a gift horse in the mouth with such uncertainty?
“Just pick, Soobie, I promise I’ll give you anything you need.”
“Um…can you suck me off? Please?”
Gosh, he’s so adorable you want to eat him.
You nod a little too enthusiastically and go down on your knees, taking as much of his cock as you can. It’s a tight fit but what you can’t put inside your mouth you make up for by wrapping your hands around him. You suck and lick and touch him, eager to give him as much pleasure as he did you. Your beloved best friend has obviously been frustrated for a while now because it doesn’t take him long to cum inside your mouth. There is so much you can’t manage to swallow it all despite your valiant efforts and you see some of it falling down your cheeks. You wipe it off with a finger, sticking it into your mouth, grinning widely at Soobin.
“Fuck, you’re incredible. What…how…are you okay?”
He presses his big palm against your cheek and it takes a lot of self-control for you to not melt right there and then.
“I’m great. Did…did it feel good for you?” you ask sheepishly.
You’re not particularly confident about your skills but you genuinely did your best for him.
“Are you crazy? It felt insanely good,” Soobin takes your hand, lifting you up and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
“I’m glad,” you respond, feeling safer and warmer than ever before in your life.
“Do…you still want to…you know?” Soobin asks.
“If you’re asking whether you can put your cock inside my pussy, then yeah, go for it. As long as it’s something you want, of course.”
You keep reminding him to only do things he’s completely okay with, because you would hate to put your best friend in a situation he doesn’t enjoy just because of your greed.
“I want you so bad, you have no idea. But I think I’ll need to stretch you out a bit, yeah?”
“O-okay,” you quickly agree and in no time, Soobin’s long fingers are inside of your pussy, going deeper than your own have ever been and making you feel things you never even dreamed about.
“How does it feel?” Soobin asks in concern.
“Heavenly,” you admit and just as you’re about to reach your second orgasm, Soobin’s fingers leave you.
“N-no, why’d you do that?” you whine frustratedly.
“Wanna feel you come around my cock.”
As it turns out, you'd like this just as much so you quickly forgive him for ruining your orgasm.
“I think I have a condom in my-“ Soobin starts but you cut him off.
“I’m taking a pill. And I believe we’re both clean, so…”
“You gon’ let me fuck you raw?” Soobin inquires, not wanting to make assumptions.
“Yeah, I trust you,” you reply with conviction.
“You’re a dream,” Soobin chuckles and nudges the head of his cock against your moist entrance. You brace yourself for some level of discomfort and are surprised that it doesn’t come right away. Soobin takes his sweet time getting inside you, making sure you’re okay.
“Fuck, Soob, you're so big,” you moan, already feeling overstimulated.
“This is just the tip, baby,” he explains shyly, which makes you lose your mind.
Soobin goes deeper very slowly, making you feel every inch, stretching you out bit by bit.
“How much more?” you ask somewhat impatiently.
“Just a little bit. Can’t help it that your pussy is so tiny,” he teases you.
“Not my fault your dick is so gigantic,” you bite right back.
“I promise, I'll try my best not to split you in half,” Soobin jokes, which does little to ease your worries, but at the same time only makes you wetter.
“Keep talking to me,” you plead for him.
“Does it hurt?” he wants to know, as he keeps entering you further.
“It’s a good kind of hurt,” you explain, wincing slightly.
Once you’ve gotten used to it, you signal to Soobin that he can start moving and he does just that, fucking into you with an impressive speed. You try to meet him halfway, lifting your hips up for him, melting into one.
“You’re taking it so well, my darling best friend,” Soobin praises you relentlessly.
“Anything for you, Soobie,” you cry out in sweet bliss.
“I’m close,” Soobin confesses soon enough.
“Fill me up,” you beg him, almost in a daze, deeply affected by his overpowering presence.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice and spills his seed inside of you. It feels so good that you cum with him, walls clenching around his enormous dick. Soobin leans down to kiss you, further blurring the lines between friendship and…whatever this is.
Then, he takes his cock out and you realize something far more terrifying than his intimidating size - you are falling in love with your best friend.
Soobin quickly brings a towel and a bottle of water, taking care of you like no one else before. You want to cry, touched by his sweetness and falling even further.
“How do you feel?” Soobin brushes a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I feel…like I'm on another planet,” you confess shakily.
Soobin chuckles, visibly relieved to hear that.
“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, enveloping you in a hug. His large frame towers over you and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel slightly threatened. But this is Soobin, and even though he just fucked your brains out, you feel completely safe and protected. Safe enough to be honest about how you feel.
“I know I promised not to be weird about it but…I don’t think I can go back to being friends.”
Soobin pales for a moment, scared of losing you.
“Why not?” he blinks, barely restraining his tears.
“I wanna belong to you,” you try to ease his worries by openly saying what your heart and soul desire.
“Oh…But baby, you already do,” Soobin suddenly beams with excitement. “And I belong to you, too.”
“I think you killed me a little,” you laugh. “Killed my pussy with your big cock and ruined me for other men.”
Soobin raises an eyebrow.
“Bold of you to assume that I’d let other men near your pussy. You’re all mine now.”
The End
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BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.
Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.
Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.
7.15am
Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.
By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.
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This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.
Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.
What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.
8.39 am
Fun fact!
When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.
Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.
Another fun fact!
If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.
What fun facts.
At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.
(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)
10.41am
Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.
Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.
11.20am
Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today.  Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech.  Let's see some quotes!
On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:
“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”
Fair, but also you are a government, George.
On Tories who attack the civil service:
“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right." 
... right. But you just... Uh.
On Tory culture warriors:
“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”
Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.
1pm
Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.
But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.
Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
3.45pm
Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.
The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.
3.50pm
Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.
Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.
The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.
The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”
*
On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.
3.56pm
The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.
Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.
An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO
3.57pm
Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.
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I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.
4.12pm
Good tweet alert!
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5.08pm
Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.
He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?
Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).
Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.
Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.
An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.
Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals.  His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.
*
(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.
Why were they offered at all, do you think?)
*
So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant.  Like, actually.  Genuinely.
Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.
5.44pm
The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:
Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden.  He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".
Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office.  At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.
Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened
Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew.  Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.
Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:
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What a sea of punchable faces.
7.58pm
But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:
Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?
The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.
Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.
This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.
8.02pm
Boris Johnson
QUITS
as an MP
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The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.
He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!
"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".
Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.
(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”??  What are you planning, Big Dog??  I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)
8.41pm
Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.
11.43pm
And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:
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Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.
Not a bad finish.
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scarletssienna · 25 days
Text
Say, “Don’t go”
Summary - It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other last - Three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 6k word count
Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU
AN - Hey guys! Sorry, it’s been a second since I’ve posted. I cannot write anything happy apparently? It’s all just been angst. I have many ideas for some future one-shots and possible series tho! (Not all angst dw)
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18+, minors + men dni
Working for the FBI was no easy feat. It often led to undercover work in many different forms. Typically you’d expect to be undercover a couple hours at most. So it was unexpected when you got a case requiring a longer period of undercover work. 3 months at most and you’d be out. This case was different from the rest. You’d been tracking a mob boss for years, every time you’d think you’d get close he’d disappear. Every time he’d come back worse than before. The goal was to gain some trust in the community and work your way up, that way you could finally track him down with confirmation. It wasn’t ideal. It was highly dangerous but you’d been training for this your entire career. When you broke the news to Wanda she was less than displeased. Since the two of you had gotten together in college you’d been nearly inseparable. Your names always followed one another’s and you were practically glued to the hip. 
Sure, you’d trained for undercover work like this, but the risk was great. There was a good chance of having to participate in illegal activities or getting hurt. Because of that, Wanda was very unhappy with you and the decision to go. The idea of being apart from you for a week, nonetheless 3 months sounded awful. You couldn’t exactly turn down this offer though. You’d waited to catch this guy for years and now it was finally within your grasp. You were too far in. The day of you leaving came quicker than anyone could have prepared for and it left you with a sinking feeling in your gut and Wanda distraught.
“I have to go, Wands.” You pleaded, trying anything you could to get her to understand. She looked away from you, wiping the tears from her face.
“No, you don’t. You could stay. We can figure it out.” She sniffled and held back a whine. “Together.” She sounded like a child begging for a toy in a store, although this was much more real. You stepped back towards her again. She stepped away but instead backed herself against a wall. 
“Wands, look at me.” You begged softly as your hands reached up, cupping her face in your hands. When she looked into your eyes, you nearly broke right then and there. The pure sadness she held was unbearable. Her green eyes were glossy - her mascara ran just below her bottom lashes. The sinking pit in your stomach grew as you opened your mouth to speak. No words came out, causing her to scowl slightly. Instead, you leaned in, kissing her as passionately as you could. She kissed back, her hands grabbing at your face, pulling you in as close as she could. When the tears began again, you had to pull back, your head falling on her shoulder. It did a poor job of muffling the sobs that left your mouth. 
“Please.” She begged. “Stay.” Her hands wrapped around you tightly, holding you against her, afraid to let go. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, creasing the fabric in her grip.
“I love you so much.” You said as you pulled back a tiny bit, just enough for your eyes to meet again. It was what confirmed it for Wanda. You were leaving. There was no more pleading and begging she could do. You had made up your mind. Her hands detached from your shirt, and she shook her head. Her arms went to her sides as her head rested behind her on the wall. “I love you, Wanda.” You repeated the words the two of you had shared hundreds of times. But this time was different: she didn’t repeat the words back. Her eyes just stared back at you, glossy, broken. Your hand dropped to your stomach, holding it slightly as the sickening feeling took over. It hit you that she wouldn’t be saying it back this time. You pushed past the billowing feeling that took over your stomach and chest. You leaned forward to kiss her one last time, but she didn’t kiss back. So, you moved and kissed her cheek tenderly before stepping away. She held her breath as a single tear rolled down her face. She held eye contact with you until you walked away, finally breaking it. You felt her gaze on you; only when you rounded the corner did it cease. She sank to her knees, her hands covering her face as she muffled her sobs. You carried on, leaving the house despite everything inside you urging you to stay. 
After three weeks of you being gone a news story broke out of an FBI agent found dead while undercover. The story that was released was gruesome. Wanda fell distraught. She was distraught you had left in the first place, but at least she had known you would be coming home. Now, with this no longer being true she was sent into more of a fragile state than ever. You had no idea that was going to happen. You had accounted for a few months of being away - at most. So it was a surprise to you too when you got a call one early morning saying there was a change of plans in your mission. It had to seem real. And to everyone else, it was real. Wanda’s grief of the love of her life was real. The woman hardly slept, yet she barely left bed. Bathing was a chore and food was an even worse one. Nightmares were common. These grew exponentially after everyone's and her own better judgment, she read your case file. She saw your name, the bloody image of ‘your’ body, the details and descriptors of how you had died, all of it, stamped a closed case. You were now deceased.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other - three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 
An old file was placed on Wanda’s desk one morning as she worked. 
“What’s this?” Wanda asked as confusion wrinkled across her face. She looked up, pushing her glasses to the top of her head, making eye contact with Natasha. 
“Something I thought you might be interested in.” Natasha started as she reached down and opened the file. Wanda recognized the case immediately, her bottom lip quickly tugged into her mouth as she bit down. Natasha’s fingers slid across the pages in search of a word. She paused, her fingertips halting just beneath it - Deceased. She pointed out the word, causing Wanda to flip her glasses back down, looking at the papers, curious. She just nodded and shrugged, not recognizing where it was from. 
“Okay? What about it?” Wanda pushed, trying not to get upset at the lack of details about what she was supposed to be looking at. Natasha reached over, setting another file on top opening it, flipping through, and then pointing out several points throughout the pages. 
“They’re not dead,” Natasha said while shaking her head. She sighed and knocked on the desk once as a sign she was leaving before walking out of the room. Wanda watched her exit before looking back into the folders in front of her, her face still riddled with confusion. Her jaw dropped slack as she realized Natasha was right. You're not dead.
Wanda looked through the second file on her desk quizzically. You had been dead. What she read proved otherwise. She let out a silent gasp as she read further. 
There was a file opened about a woman who was close to the man you had gone after. It was you. Though the people above in the FBI knew that. They just had to keep it under wraps for your safety. The case had been made available recently as the mob boss was dead. The woman in the file had shot him and escaped. The more Wanda read about the woman, the more she realized it was you. Techniques you had used in the past for interrogation, fighting techniques, and just genuine physical mannerisms. The woman had shown up just a month after you had been declared deceased. The thing that finally confirmed it to be you for Wanda stopped her in her tracks. There were blurry security images from the shooting. You had always managed to stay away from cameras and any photos taken staying in hiding made your undercover position easier. Wanda would always recognize you. You had to be confident you could return when this was revealed. 
She immediately reached for her phone, dialing your number and letting it ring twice before she realized. The number had been down for years and you wouldn’t just pick up like that. She set her phone down and pushed her chair back. While gnawing on her bottom lip she was in a shocked state of not knowing what to do. She left the office quickly, going home. The second she pulled into the driveway she broke down into tears. All the feelings from years ago came back. It felt unreal, untrue. She couldn’t believe it, and not in the way of denial. But protecting herself. She couldn’t go through the grief again. She dragged herself inside and simply dropped her stuff by the door. She had moved on from you. It was hard, but she had done it. 
All this brought up those emotions, she wasn’t sure how to cope. She brought herself to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes, dropping them sporadically around the room before going to the shower. She paused in front of the mirror, trying to contain her tears. She dried her face with the hand towel and sniffled before turning on the water to the shower. She stood outside the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As she stood the tears began again. When the water was to her liking she entered and stood under the water, trying to wash away all the feelings. They didn’t wash away as she had hoped. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, holding her legs just as she had done when you left. The feeling of sadness and heartbreak was all too familiar. 
The next week things were off. No one had brought you up. Not that they usually did. But Wanda had hoped someone would. Maybe if someone brought it up it would give her an excuse to share what she had found - Without fear of sounding crazy. The first year after you’d left, Wanda was in such a deep state of grief. She’d often bring up new cases, victims, or missing people, saying it may be you. She had seen the evidence of your death, but after the closed casket funeral and no true closure in the situation, it drove her wild. She settled for focusing on her work this week, pushing people away. She had to believe you were alive. The counter thought was too much. 
When you returned to Quantico you wanted nothing more than to see Wanda. Unfortunately, there was paperwork on paperwork that needed to be approved before doing so. On top of that, you also had to go through a medical check and many physical exams. While the FBI had known what you were doing, they couldn’t just pull you away for the maintenance of your health. It was debatably the longest week of your life. You spend much of it waiting in the temporary apartment they had set up for you. It was boring, mundane, and painfully long as all you could think about was seeing Wanda. When you got the go-ahead Friday night you were frantic. At a loss of what to wear, who to call, and where to even find Wanda you were lost. Decidedly, you called the only number you could seem to remember at the time, Natashas. She answered on the third ring your call from a club. She hasn't answered nearly as fast as you would have liked but supposed it was fine, this time. 
“Where is Wanda?” You wasted no time on formalities, impatiently waiting for a response. You paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room as you gnawed your bottom lip into your mouth. Natasha didn't know who was calling but answered anyway. She listened as she stepped outside. 
“Who is this? You must know that this is terrible timing. Whatever this is better be important.” She insisted as she leaned against the cold brick wall, not waiting long before you replied again. 
“Natasha.” You answered simply. “Where is Wanda?” You repeated your question with a firm tone. Suddenly, it hit Natasha on who you were. A gasp left her mouth as she stood up straight.
“No way!” She practically yelled. Of course, she knew you were alive. She had known the whole time. But it had been a long time since the two of you had spoken real words. Now here you were, asking for Wanda. Before you could yell again into the phone, she remembered your question. “She’s probably still at work. She’s been working like crazy this last week.” You didn’t even bother saying anything more before hanging up the phone. 
You pulled up the maps app on your phone and typed in Quantico. When you saw it was just a little over a mile you decided to run. You were not about to just wait around for an Uber that was for sure. Was running the best decision as it was 10:30 pm and you were last in the area several years ago? Maybe not. But you were in a wired state and would do it anyway. When you arrived you hurried to the elevator. You grumbled as you went to hit the button and realized you needed your key card. Shuffling through your pockets in a frantic state you grabbed it and swiped it, pressing the floor you needed to go. Thoughts began to flood your mind as you imagined Wanda's reaction. What if she was mad at you? What if she never wanted to see you again? You didn't have much time to worry though as the elevator dinged and opened. As the doors opened they slowly revealed the red hair you've been dying to see. An exhausted Wanda was standing outside the elevator waiting to enter. You took a second to register her in front of you, still as a statue. She hardly even looked your way, not recognizing you through the exhaustion. She shuffled into the elevator and rested her head against the wall, reaching to push the first-floor button when you cut her off. 
“Wanda,” you said, causing her head to snap towards you. Her face was riddled with confusion before her jaw dropped as she realized who was standing before her. Without a second thought, she flung herself into your arms. You held her tightly against you as your arms wrapped around her closely. “God, Wanda.” You murmured under your breath as you pressed your face into her hair, inhaling slightly. You could have melted at her touch, her scent, her everything. It was exhilarating. Her face nuzzled into your neck as if it was a perfect puzzle piece. Her soft sobs of joy are swallowed and silenced by your closeness. The doors to the elevator closed but the machine stayed in place as it hadn't been directed anywhere.
“Is it you?” She asked after several moments, pulling her face back. When her green, teary eyes met yours you smiled bigger than you had in forever. 
“It's me, Wands,” you said as you looked up into her eyes, causing her to grin. You reached both hands up, cupping her face as you wiped away her tears with your thumbs. Softly, you pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose wrinkled at the kiss and she giggled before leaning forward and kissing you, passionately. The kiss only lasted a few moments before she was tangled around you again closely. 
“How? What?” Suddenly she began to stutter out. “Where?” The number of questions she had was too many and they were too much right now. While biting down on your bottom lip you shook your head. “Soon, so very soon.” You whispered as you placed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll tell you all about it soon.” When she began to protest your answer you kissed her softly, causing her to sigh and give in, just happy you were here. 
“Where have you been staying?” She asked before looking at the elevator as it began to move down. Slowly, she detached herself from you causing you to release her from your arms. Instead, she settled on holding your arm tightly, afraid to let go. 
“They set me up with a temporary apartment not too far from here.” You spoke in a quiet voice as the elevator doors opened. The two of you exited, carefully walking past the person entering. 
“Let me take you home.” Wanda offered. She wanted to see you for as long as she physically could but knew it was late and unrealistic to expect you to stay out doing who knows what at the spur of the moment. She looked at you as she stepped closer once again, not having let go of your arm. Suddenly, she began to stutter. “By home, I mean your apartment, not my, our, home I mean. Unless you want to go there? I mean I wouldn't mind at all! But also I would understand if you wanted to go back to,” You cut her rambling off with a soft kiss. 
“I would love to go back to our home,” You started, causing her eyes to light up. “But not tonight.” You finished and the glimmer in her eyes faded as she quickly looked away. Feeling the sudden need to clarify, you spoke quickly. “There's still some things that need to be settled and I've been running around too much, I don’t want to disturb you.”
She agreed and you went towards her car, both of you getting in when Wanda finally pried her body away from yours. It was quickly returned when you both had gotten in, her hand reaching for your leg as she drove. Your hand rested on hers. Despite having tons to talk about you drove in silence: quiet directions were the only words shared as the radio played softly in the background as you watched out the window. She drove slowly down the road, a few under the speed limit as she wanted to soak up every moment she could with you. Her hand slowly rose your thigh as she drove, her fingertips playing softly with the inner hem of your pants. There was a sudden moment of desperation that came among the two of you. Wanda pulled into the nearest empty parking lot and parked the car. The second the car was put into park the two of you practically launched yourselves at each other, kissing one another passionately. Your hands reached for her waist as hers tangled in your hair. 
Her tongue slipped across your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged without a second thought, a moan immediately muffed into the kiss. Your hand snaked under her shirt, groping and grabbing at her chest through her bra. She groaned into your mouth, tugging your hair as she pulled you closer. 
“Fuck.” You mumbled as you pulled back from the kiss, locking eyes with her. You hummed and tugged at her shirt. “Get over here.” You murmured as you reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You moved the seat back and laid it down before turning your back to the windshield and shifting towards the front of the car. There was some awkward shifting and moving as Wanda moved into the passenger's seat, settling and leaning back in the seat. She reached forward and grabbed your shirt, pulling you on top of her. 
Your lips met instantly again and your hips found a slow pace of grinding onto her lap. Her hands reached down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as she slid her fingertips inward, dipping towards the insides of your thighs. With a groan, you broke the kiss and began kissing at her neck. Your hip movements came to a cease as you moved off her lap, now between her legs. You grumbled as the floor wasn’t as forgiving as you’d expected the fabric-covered metal to be. That wasn’t about to stop you though as you reached towards her pants. She helped with the buttons and zipper, before lifting her hips, allowing you to tug down her pants and panties with one quick motion. You moaned at the sight in front of you. Her delectable cunt waiting in front of you. She reached down, tangling a hand in your hair as she began to push your head to where she needed it most. You would never deprive her of what she wanted. Especially when your mouth practically watered for her. 
“Come on Detka. Don’t be shy, Mommy remembers how much you love eating her pussy.” She spoke sweetly, a smile on her face as she looked down at you. Your face turned to a deep blush as she spoke. In an attempt to avoid embarrassment, you settled your head between her thighs happily. Your tongue made contact with her slowly. Your tongue moved up her clit in a fashion that made her squirm. Her grip on your hair tightened as her hips rose against your face. You moaned against her as your hands gripped her thighs. The way your tongue swirled and ground against her caused her to moan out above you. “Fuck Detka.” She pulled at your hair and she let out a loud moan. “Oh, I’ve missed your tongue.” She said as her eyes screwed shut and threw her head back. You looked up from your position, smiling at the sight above you. One of your hands slid between her legs and quickly slipped inside of her. Your tongue directed all of your attention to her clit as your fingers curled and pumped inside of her. With the addition of your fingers, she rose quickly to an orgasm. Her hands tugged at your hair as her hips lifted and she let out a loud moan as she reached her peak. When she settled you took a moment to remove your fingers and lap up what you could before looking up at her with a cheeky grin.
“Fuck you’re hot.” You said as you grinned, biting the inside of your cheek before pulling your fingers to your mouth, and licking them clean. She watched you, awestruck and tired as she caught her breath. Her grip loosened in your hair and her hands reached down to your face with a new tenderness. She lifted your chin to look at you with a smile. You smiled back up at her before biting your bottom lip. You wiped your face with your shirt in a playful manner before shifting a little. She giggled tiredly and pressed her fingertip to the tip of your nose with a smile. You dried your fingers on your pants before pulling Wanda's pants and panties up carefully. She slowly shifted her body, tiredly allowing you to help her. When her pants were back in place you crawled onto her lap, straddling her. You began to pepper soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 
“I love you, Wands.” You whispered as you settled back in her lap, your head resting below her chin as her arms wrapped around you keeping you close.
“I love you too, Detka.” She said with a tired smile on her face. The slow patterns Wanda traced on your back felt hypnotizing as you never wanted to leave this moment. You had to though, so after a little while of sitting together you lifted your head. She protested with a grumble and tangled her hand in your hair, urging you to lay your head back down. Her eyes didn't open from her relaxed state. 
“Wanda let me drive us home.” You said as you placed a kiss on her lips. She nodded and slowly let go of you. You reached down and adjusted the seat so it was in a safer upright position before scooting back on her lap a little and buckling her seatbelt for her. You then smiled as her tired eyes looked into yours. “Keep looking at me like that I’m gonna have to eat you out again.” you teased, causing her to grin and giggle. You climbed into the driver's seat and set the car to defog, letting it rest momentarily as you traced patterns on Wanda's leg. When the car was defogged enough you drove the two of you home. 
Pulling into the driveway you parked the car in the garage before getting out. You hurried to Wanda's side before she could even open the door. You opened the door for her before reaching down and unclicking her seatbelt.
“Can I carry you?” you asked, causing her to grin a little out of surprise. She raised her eyebrows at you as she began to question. 
“Is that a question of your physical capabilities or are you asking for permission?” She teased as she looked up at you tiredly. “Because you have my permission, but Detka I might be too heavy,” she started but you cut her off, carefully lifting her out of the seat, watching to make sure she didn’t bump her head. She gasped surprised as she quickly hid her face in your neck, flustered. You carried her inside before setting her on the steps. Gently, you began taking off her shoes and jacket for her, hanging them up on the hook before returning and picking her up bridal style. She laughed when you picked her up again but let it happen as she wrapped her arms around your neck tightly and kissed your jaw. You brought her to the bedroom and laid her down. She made quick work of snuggling up with the pillows in the bed. 
“Don’t get too comfy Wands.” You teased as you went to the closet to find some pajamas. You bit your lip, pausing as you noticed your side of the closet had stayed nearly the same as when you had left. Slowly, you began looking through your shirts. Your fingers danced slowly over the fabric, brushing your fingertips along the patterns of one of your favorite shirts. You carefully slipped the shirt off the hanger. You glanced at the closet door, knowing Wanda’s eyes were on you before stripping your shirt off. As you reached to unclip your bra you heard her call out. 
“Come here.” Wanda’s voice was husky and full of sleep. You abided anyway and picked your shirt and a shirt for her before walking towards her. You set the shirts on her bed, blushing a light shade of pink as you stood next to her. She propped herself up a little more and reached towards you, spinning you to face away from her. Her hands slid up your back slowly before stopping at your bra. She took only a moment, unclipping your bra. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as she unclipped your bra. Her hands then slid down your back, her fingertips tracing across some scars she had never seen before. You flinched at the touch at first before relaxing into it. While biting your bottom lip you let the bra fall to the ground before turning back around to face her. She smiled at your body, only looking at you with love and adoration as she took in the sight. Her eyes on you made you blush a deeper red. When she noticed you getting more flustered she directed her attention lower. Her hands slid from your sides to the loops of your pants. Moving you closer with a soft tug she undid the button before looking into your eyes as she did the zipper. You shuffled out of the pants before reaching for her. Carefully you repeated her motions. Your fingers danced around the button to her pants as you undid them, carefully helping her slide out of them. While she took off her shirt you took a moment to fold the clothes you two had discarded. You smiled as you looked back towards her again, reaching your arms around her. Your hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let the garment fall slowly as it was now your turn to admire the sight in front of you. You sat on the edge of the bed next to her, letting a small smile show as you handed her one of your t-shirts. You pulled yours on as she put hers on. As sexual as the actions may have seemed to an outside perspective they were purely done out of innocence and genuine care. 
“Can I sleep next to you?” You spoke for the first time in several minutes. A downward smile tugged on Wanda’s lips as she grabbed at your shirt. 
“Please do.” She said as she nodded, tapping the side next to her, your side of the bed. You smiled at her response and bit your lip as you pulled the covers back. You crawled over top of her, causing her to giggle as you plopped down next to her. You took a moment to dramatically fluff up your pillow before lying down. She waited, teasingly impatient. The second your head hit the pillow Wanda’s head was right there next to you hardly inches away. Her arms wrapped around you closely and one leg pushed between yours, essentially tangling your bodies together. The closeness felt wonderful. You brushed your nose against hers with a smile on your face. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. Gently you pressed a kiss to her lips. You didn’t close your eyes just yet. You watched her instead. Watching how her eyes fluttered tiredly, her breath slowly making her chest rise and fall, her breathing getting slow as she drifted asleep. When you were sure she was asleep you finally gave in to the tiredness yourself, letting your eyes close and sleep take over you. 
The next morning when you woke up Wanda was stretched out next to you but still clinging onto your shirt with one of her hands. You smiled at the sight, biting back a big grin as you watched her. Before, you were rarely awake before Wanda. She liked to get up early to get a head start on her day. Now, that had been you for the past few years. You scooted towards her, wrapping your body around her as you began to kiss her cheek and neck playfully. She stirred in her sleep and luckily remembered about the night prior before freaking out. She rolled on top of you and grinned, her eyes not yet open as she snuggled into your chest. 
“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She whispered as she wrapped her body around you. You smiled and chuckled at her. You wrapped one arm around her back, sliding it under her shirt as you rubbed up and down the bare skin. Your other hand went to her hair, tangling it softly as you massaged her scalp. She hummed and leaned into your touch, slowly falling back into sleep. While kissing the top of her head you whispered. 
“I’ll lay here a little while then I have some stuff to do okay Wands?” You wanted to work out and return some phone calls for work to get it out of the way. She just nodded and hugged you closer. You let her stay in that position for longer than you’d planned before slowly moving her next to you again and climbing out of bed. You kissed her head before going downstairs. You paused at the end of the stairs, taking a deep breath as you knew you were about to take on walking through your old house. Just as you were about to walk through the house suddenly you couldn’t do it. You put on your shoes before going for a run outside. You ran all around smelling the fresh air. It was like no time had passed. You ran a quick run before returning home to get a weight lift in. Before, you seldom did cardio and weights on the same day. But you had a new routine that made you the most fit you’d ever been. The home gym was in a room connected to the garage. You went there and did a routine before heading up to the bedroom to shower. Wanda was sitting on the bed, pillows propped up behind her as she scrolled on her phone. 
“Wow,” Wanda muttered under her breath as she saw you walk into the room, your sweaty state extremely obvious. You laughed at her reaction and dried your face off the sweat with the small towel that had been draped across your shoulder. 
“Sorry, I know I’m gross. I’m about to take a shower. Maybe you want to join me?” You asked, thinking her reaction was for you being gross but you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of showering with her. 
“No!” She said quickly, causing you to crinkle your nose at her. She realized what she said. “I mean yes! I want to shower with you! Not no! Not yet.” She said as she got out of bed and walked towards you. Your eyebrow turned upward as she walked towards you.
“Not yet?” You questioned as your hands reached out to her waist and then slid down to her hips, holding her softly.
“Not yet.” She whispered, repeating you with a small grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed your neck softly. Your hands squeezed at her hips as you pulled her body up against yours. She bit at your neck testingly causing you to yelp and flinch in surprise. She pulled her face back to look you in the eyes. “Too much?” She asked, her hands snaking across your body. Quickly, you shook your head.
“More.” You let out in only a whisper. Her grin returned and she stepped back, grabbing you by the shirt and dragging you to the bed.
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queenimmadolla · 10 months
Text
𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
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Summary: . . . You and your kids wake Eddie up with a surprise for Father's Day. warnings: fluff and Eddie being down bad for Reader 🤭, implications of baby making.
word count: 2k
more dad!eddie here
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“'Shhh', mama?” Your four year old asked as she trailed behind you in the hallway.
  “Yeah, we have to be quiet so you can wake daddy up with a surprise.” You were trying not to make too much noise with the flowers, wrapped in apparently the world’s loudest brown paper, hitching your nine-month old up higher on your hip.
  Thank goodness neither of your kids were in a fussy mood, especially considering you’d gotten them up early after the terrible night before. Wayne had a new tooth coming in, he was absolutely miserable and your poor baby made sure to let everyone know. He’d been wailing most of the night and Eddie took it upon himself to soothe him, rubbing some baby friendly orajel along his gums, massaging them with fingers dipped in cool water, and offering frozen teething rings and plenty of comfort in the form of nonstop cuddles.
  He hadn’t joined you in bed until the early hours of the morning, which worked out perfectly. Eddie had been dead asleep when you got up, squishing a pillow you’d planted in place of yourself to his chest.
  Next came getting the kids ready, which was also surprisingly easy. Penny was pliant with sleep, letting you dress her without whining (she kept trying to lean forward so she could rest on you and go back to sleep—it was the cutest thing) and your baby was still soothed by Eddie’s remedies, letting out content coos as you changed his diaper and also got him ready.
  After a quick trip to a music store downtown (and by quick you meant 45 minutes, Penny took delicate care in picking out another final gift for her daddy and told you not to rush her every time you’d ask her to hurry) and a stop at the flower shop, you arrived back home and it looked like Eddie still hadn’t stirred, which gave you time to make breakfast.
  You’d sat Waynie in his high chair, gave him some cut up pieces of banana to gnaw on—which he did so as aggressively as possible—and went about making pancakes, eggs and bacon (which Eddie liked to devour until he felt ill).
  Penny was of course your little helper, sitting on your lap while you assisted her with whisking the eggs in a bowl for Waynie’s scrambled eggs, and then perched on your hip to help you flip the pancakes. She’d insisted that Eddie’s pancakes all be heart shaped and you loved the idea, so after a couple of failed ones that would be on your plate, you eventually got it down and she wrapped her arms tightly around you in a hug for it.
  Once breakfast was plated and the table was set, you gathered Wayne and the flowers while Penny carried Eddie’s decoy gift towards your bedroom.
  Quietly, you opened the door and peaked in, smiling  at Eddie’s sleeping form.
  “Okay, let’s go wake him up. Shh.” You propped the door open for Penny to slip in before you and she grinned up at you, using her free hand to hold her finger to her lips, she’d be quiet.
  She set the rectangular box on the end of the bed and then climbed on top while you sat Wayne down on the bed.
  He was just starting to crawl, so he very shakily made his way towards Eddie—face planting quite a few times but it didn’t deter your baby.
  Penny looked back at you for confirmation and you nodded in encouragement. That was all the permission she needed.
  “Daddy! Daddy, wake up! It’s daddy’s day! Wakey, wakey!” 
  She poked and prodded at his side when he groaned and shifted onto his back, eyes squinting open. That wasn’t good enough for her, she moved to sit on him and Wayne finally reached him, using his dad’s shoulder to prop himself up enough to sit back on his bum while he let out a happy shriek, chunky little palms slapping eagerly at his dad’s face to do the trick.
  Eddie made a face, nose scrunching up but you could see the smile curling on his lips, dimples appearing.
  “Okay, okay! I’m awake! Stop the assault!” 
  Penny laughed as he sat up, which almost sent her sprawling on the bed but she caught herself on his leg. Eddie tutted, that wouldn’t do.
  Eddie reached out and pushed her off of him and she laughed hysterically as she bounced against the mattress which made the two of you chuckle. For some reason your daughter loved to rough house with him. 
  Penny didn’t stay down for long, quickly crawling back up to lay down along the side of his pillow and Eddie turned his head to look at her after he’d gathered Wayne and sat him on his chest.
  “Happy Fodder’s Day, daddy. You aw the best daddy in the whole wide everywhere.” She whispered to him, very seriously, and he leaned in to give her a smacking kiss on the nose.
  “Thank you, baby.” His voice was raspy but you could detect the emotion under it. Eddie was so gonna choke up.
  “You wanna give him his present?” You prompted her, and Eddie’s head darted in your direction, grin widening at the sight of you in his favorite dress.
  “Oh, yeah!” Penny scurried to the end of the bed and knee-crawled back to Eddie, hands outstretched to offer him the rectangular box.
  “What’s this?” He asked, tucking Wayne into his side so he could grab the box.
  “You gots to open it, daddy.” Penny demanded, eagerly leaning in to stare at the box while he did.
  “Sorry,” you both traded looks of amusement before he took off the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a new guitar strap; black and decorated with crossbone skulls. “This is for me?”
  “Yeah!” Penny nodded her head ecstatically. “Mommy lemme pickeded it out!”
  “Thank you so much, little pretty one.” Eddie moved his hand to the back of his daughter’s curly little head to bring it in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then he turned to the baby at his side. “And you, too!”
  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sweet smelling curls on his baby’s head. In return, Waynie started gnawing on his arm.
  You sat on the side of the bed and pulled him away from Eddie’s arm. Your son looked at you, affronted,  like you’d committed the ultimate crime until you held a pacifier to his lips. He eagerly gobbled it up and relaxed back against Eddie, once more content as he suckled.
  “Penny, do you wanna go get the other thing?”
  “Wha─?” She looked at you, confused for only a moment before her big brown eyes lit up. “YES, YES, YES!”
  Penny quickly climbed off the bed and ran to her room, where you’d hidden it.
  “What are you up to, trouble?” Eddie asked and you turned your head away from the doorway to find him looking at you, sleepy eyes clouded with love and affection as he reached a hand out to stroke along your exposed thigh.
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
  “You’re trying to make me cry again, aren’t you?”
  “Not me, no way. No how.” 
  “I GOS IT, MOMMY!” Penny ran back in, chin raised to peak over the box she carried. It wasn’t too heavy for her, just big.
  She brought it over to you and you handed it to Eddie before pulling her up onto your lap as you watched him unbox it.
  “I wonder what it could b—.” Eddie’s mouth parted just slightly as he pulled a small amp from the box. It wasn’t just any amp. It was an amp you’d sneakily picked up from the music store last week—he had a ton of amps sprawled around the apartment but Eddie’s favorite portable one had recently gone out on him. 
  The amp itself would have been a fantastic gift alone, but you’d taken a few extra steps to personalize it for him. You’d painted the black amp with a solid red background and then let Penny and Wayne paint whatever they wanted on it. 
  Penny had gone all out, making sure to paint her family holding hands on it, along with plenty of depictions of her dad, one of which was him wearing a cape because he was her hero and since Wayne was too little to use a paintbrush, his little hand and foot prints were on it. 
  On one of the sides was your initials (last name replaced with an ‘M’ to represent the Munson name you’d taken on when you’d married him) + EM 4Ever, tucked into a heart with Cupid’s bow shot through it. 
  “SUPISE! D’ya like it, daddy? I drews on it, and it got Waynie’s feets and hans.” Penny looked so proud of herself, smile nearly taking up her entire face.
  Eddie sniffled and you hid your grin in Penny’s hair. You got him.
  He licked his lips and cleared his throat to try and keep himself together but you could see the shine in his eyes when he raised them.
  “I love it so much, baby girl.” He choked out, holding Wayne a little tighter to his side.
  “You wanna give daddy a hug?” You whispered into her ear and she crawled off your lap to throw herself at Eddie, arms wrapping around his shoulders.
  Eddie was careful to make sure Penny didn’t squish Wayne as he held her to his chest, eyes squeezing shut and his freehand cradling the back of her head.
  “I luh you, daddy.” Penny mumbled, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
  “I love you, pretty Penny.” He pressed a multitude of kisses to her curls as he basked in the moment before his eyes shot open and over to you. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here and give me some love.”
  You affectionately rolled your eyes before you complied, lifting Wayne out of his arms and into yours to take his place tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie demanded kisses the moment you were near, and because you loved him, you ignored his god awful morning breath and let him have his way.
  His lips remained pressed to your temple, an arm slipped around your waist so he could lift the skirt of your dress, fingers tracing the words I love you along your thigh as Penny explained all her paintings in great, excessive detail.
  Later, when you were all at the table eating the breakfast you and Penny had made, Eddie could barely get a bite in without staring at you. Wayne was in your arms, face pressed against your breast as he nursed (always did it before he ate solids), while Penny babbled to you about how fun cooking with you had been and how yummy it was as you helped her scoop up her food on her little fork.
  Eddie knew Father’s Day was a day meant to celebrate him and essentially all the other fathers of the world, but he’d much rather appreciate you. You’d given him Penny and Wayne; his sweet (usually) little girl and his baby boy. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to be a part of this day, really.
  Eventually, you felt the weight of his stare and looked up at him, gaze inquisitive.
  “What?” 
  He just huffed out a gentle laugh, brown eyes warm and making a certain feeling stir in your belly, “Nothing. Thank you. For them.”
  Eddie nods towards Wayne and Penny.
  “Well, you definitely played a part in getting them here.” You mused, reaching a hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls. 
  Sure, you made them but it wouldn’t have been possible had Eddie not finished inside of you on a regular basis. 
  When you looked back at him, Eddie was smirking, his eyes were heavily lidded and darkening–his bedroom eyes. The warmth in them was simmering into something much more intense as he leered at you with absolutely no shame. Lustful.
  You could feel yourself heating up, bashful nature hitting you full force as he nearly ate you alive with his gaze alone. You knew what was coming next, what he was about to say.
  “Wanna make another one during nap time?”
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reiderwriter · 9 months
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Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏
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Chapter 1 of That's What You Get
Next Chapter
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨
Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.
You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.
“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.
“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.
“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”
“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”
“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”
“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.
“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.
The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.
“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.
“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.
“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.
“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.
You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.
“Mom, hey, what’s up?”
“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.
“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”
“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.
“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.
“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”
“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.
“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”
You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.
“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”
“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.
“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.
“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”
“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”
“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.
“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”
“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.
In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.
Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.
“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.
“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.
“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.
“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”
“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”
“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
–x–
Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.
“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.
“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.
“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”
“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.
“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”
“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.
“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”
“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.
“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”
You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.
So because it was him, you decided to talk.
“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.
“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued
“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.
“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”
“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.
“How come?”
“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.
“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”
“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”
“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.
“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”
“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”
“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”
“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.
“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.
“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.
“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”
“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”
“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”
“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”
“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”
With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.
–X–
The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.
Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.
That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.
Fuck.
There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.
There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.
Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.
“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.
“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”
That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.
“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.
“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.
“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.
“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.
Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.
“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.
“Y/N I think we got married last night.”
For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.
“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.
Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.
Your husband.
You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.
“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.
“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.
“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.
“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.
But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.
“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.
“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.
“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.
“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”
“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.
“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”
He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”
Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.
“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.
“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”
“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.
🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake
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Text
Boyfriend Material
Against all odds, Troy didn't hate Luka when they were assigned the same college dorm room. They were quite different, really: While Troy was the almost stereotypical nerd, from his glasses down to his checkered shirt, Luka was quite the opposite. He had a fit body and was majoring in history of sports.
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Where Troy was the quiet, bookish type, Luka was outgoing and active. Troy read books, tinkered with electronics or programmed an app in his free time, while Luka went out for the gym or played rugby on the field. And, of course, even though Luka wasn't stereotypically jock-dumb, Troy was much more intelligent than him.
All those differences had a lot of potential for a relationship of hatred from day one, but, surprisingly, the two of them got along fine. They had separate bedrooms and respected each other’s boundaries so much that they barely talked to each other for the first few weeks. For Troy, it was almost as if he had the dorm for himself. Luka cleaned up after himself and in the few instances when he listened to his bass heavy music too loudly, he immediately turned it down as soon as Troy asked him to, thanking him for the notification even.
So, at first Troy and Luka had a distant but respectful relationship that even made Troy question his prejudices regarding the stereotypical dumb jock.
It was only half a year after moving in together that Troy and Luka discovered one thing they had in common: Bad luck in dating.
Troy was, of course, way too introvert and shy to meet a girl. It was a frustrating experience for him. Every time he matched someone on one of the various dating apps he used, he pondered for hours on how to start a conversation with the girl who was surely way out of his league. More often than not he decided not to text her at all and just deleted the contact frustratedly. At other times, he started a conversation but quickly found himself getting bored from the meaningless small talk. It was as if every girl he met virtually was way too shallow and way below his intellect: He couldn't find a common ground to talk about that didn't seem pointless to him.
Luka on the other hand had a quite different problem. Luka was gay, a fact that took Troy a few weeks to notice. He actually had guys over quite often and was, judging from the noises, sexually active with them as well. Here, too, Luka was very considerate not to disturb Troy too much, so Troy didn't mind at all. However, in time, Troy noticed that the guys visiting Luka were rarely the same twice in a row.
Troy suspected that Luka was enjoying his single life and thought nothing of it, but after a while even the socially awkward Troy picked up on the bad mood that seemed to befall his roommate every time one of his partners left. So, just as Luka said goodbye to a muscular Black man one evening, Troy actually asked him:
"Is everything alright, Luka?"
Luka closed the door behind his date and looked at his roommate. "Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"
Troy fiddled a bit with his glasses. He was not very good at talking to other people, especially not when it came to delicate matters.
"I just noticed that you do seem to be... going through boyfriends rather quickly."
"Boyfriends? Oh, none of them was my boyfriend."
Troy didn't know what to answer to that. He had thought the men coming and going were Luka's dates, but apparently not.
Luka sighed and sat down on the couch.
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"I didn't get to the 'boyfriends' stage with any of them, you know?" Luka sounded genuinely disappointed or sad.
Troy looked for a way to escape the awkward situation, and probably Luka wouldn't even have minded being left alone. But since he brought up the topic, Troy felt compelled to offer some comfort.
So, he, too sat down on the couch and hesitated a bit before asking: "You didn't? I thought that you, you know, slept with some of them."
"Yeah, I did. With all of them, actually." Luka confirmed. He didn't sound too happy or proud though as he continued: "Getting into a guy's pants isn't very difficult. Getting into their hearts however..." his voice trailed off.
"What's the problem?" Troy asked, genuinely interested. He didn't know the differences between gay and straight people were so significant. Casual sex with a woman seemed impossible to achieve, at least to Troy. Yet Luka described it as if that was easy for gay guys.
Luka sighed. "Good question. Apparently, I'm no boyfriend material. Or the number of guys looking for something serious are rarer than I thought. Whatever the reason, I haven't had a relationship in almost three years now. It's kind of frustrating."
Troy nodded. "Yes, I know the feeling. Dating isn't easy for me either. I guess I'm just too shy. Fact is: I've never had a girlfriend."
"No way! Really?" Now Luka was the one to be surprised. "But you are a nice guy. I bet the girls are lining up for you."
"Not that I noticed, they aren't."
There was a moment of silence between the two roommates before Troy laughed. "Seems like we are not that different after all."
After that, it was like the ice between the two of them was broken. Even though they were very different, Troy and Luka got along even better and talked more. For some reason, Troy even found Luka's situation worse than his own. Sure, Troy couldn't talk to girls, let alone date any, but Luka had his heart broken again and again.
So, Troy tried to help out Luka as best as he could. They even went to a gay club together, with Troy as Luka's wingman, but that plan didn't turn out very well. Even though Troy had a drink or two, he just couldn't muster up the courage to talk to the guys and Luka did the same thing. Eventually, both were just sitting together and observed the club and the people inside and everyone just assumed they were together.
Once they got back to their dorm room, neither of them was very happy.
"Sorry, that was probably a bad idea." Troy apologized. "I really thought you would meet someone interesting today."
"Don't worry about it. It was a good idea" Luka smiled. "I still had some fun today."
"No, it's really unfair!" Troy claimed. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking but he was really unhappy with how Luka was being treated "You're such a great catch, and I just wish you would finally find a boyfriend! If you ask me, you're totally boyfriend material! If I was gay, I'd date you in an instant!"
Luka had to laugh. "That's sweet, but don't be silly. If you were gay, I'm sure you would have a partner. And even if you wouldn't, you're a great guy, but I'm not sure you were my type."
"What's your type then?" Troy asked curiously. They had actually never spoken about that before.
"Well, perhaps it's part of why it's so difficult for me to find a man. I've got these very specific wishes about a guy I would like to date..." Luka began.
"Come on, tell me more." Troy pressed. "If I'm going to be a great wingman, I need to know."
Luka hesitated, but eventually, he began: "It's hard to explain, you know. But for me, there's nothing sexier than a man who is strong, muscular, confident and, well, a bit on the easy side."
"Easy as in stupid or easy as in easy to have?" Troy asked.
"Both, actually. I would love a boyfriend who is a lot dumber than I am - and pretty slutty, too. A real himbo if you catch my drift."
"Haha, yes, you're right. That's exactly me." Troy said. Actually, he wanted to say "That's *not* exactly me", but for some reason, it came out wrong entirely.
Before he could correct himself, though, he felt a strange tingling sensation all over his body. What the hell?
"I'm telling you, that's what I like." Luka explained further, completely oblivious to what was happening to Troy.
"Oh, really? That's good, I guess." Troy's voice sounded different, and it was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate. His body was changing, and so was his brain, but he couldn't understand what was going on.
"You know, you really helped me out a lot the last few months." Luka said. "I feel much better and happier after talking to you and..."
Luka's voice faded away as he looked at Troy. The man's face was changing, and he grew larger.
"Are... are you okay?"
Troy opened his eyes. "I don't know. I feel weird. Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
Luka took a step back. His roommate was growing, his arms and legs were getting thicker and bigger, and his chest was expanding. He was already filling out his clothes and the fabric was ripping. His shoulders became broader and the arms wider, and soon, Troy's glasses fell down as his face widened and his jaw became more prominent.
All the while his mind became foggier, and his knowledge and smarts quickly drained away. Why was he wearing a shirt that was clearly too small for him? Why was he wearing a shirt at all? Shirts were for wimps, and Troy was a man's man!
So, Troy wiggled out of his shirt before it became to constricting. Exposing his upper body was way better anyway - that way everyone could have a good look at his guns and his sculpted shaved chest.
While the now half naked man kept on transforming, his roommate was almost paralyzed.
"What... what is happening here?" Luka asked.
Troy laughed, his voice sounding deeper and rumbling. "I don't know, but this feels amazing. And it looks like you are enjoying the show, too!"
Luka looked down and noticed he was sporting a massive erection. He was completely transfixed by the display of masculinity his roommate was performing for him.
He didn't notice the pants Troy was wearing were ripped at the seams and quickly fell apart as his thighs were becoming bigger and bigger. However, when he looked back up again, he was looking eye level at a filled to the brim blue underwear. The dick hidden behind it must have been massive - and it was not even hard!
Luka gulped as he saw that the last part was slowly changing, and the strained blue fabric tented visibly, with a wet patch forming on it. He could only barely bring himself to stop staring at the hypnotizing bulge and up the masculine body of his roommate up to his face.
There was really nothing left of the old Troy. Here stood a confident and strong men - with a dumb smile on his face and eyes that didn't show too many signs of intelligence. A total himbo.
Troy grabbed his underwear and ripped it apart with a swift move. The now exposed and hardening cock was obscene, and Luka gasped when he saw it. He couldn't believe how big and thick the member was, and his own penis was throbbing in his pants.
"Here is what we're going to do, stud." Troy said seductively. "We're gonna fuck. All through the night. And then, I'm taking you out for breakfast, 'cause we're dating."
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shurisneakers · 3 months
Text
unsolved (ii)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.
A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy
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Previous part || Series masterlist
Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything. 
The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt. 
All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime. 
He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality. 
But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable. 
The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open– 
There’s no one on the other side. 
Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.
Shoot day. See you at the studio!
He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order. 
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The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.
He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.  
He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in. 
“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”
Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state. 
“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”
“I have my ways.”
Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity. 
“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss. 
He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not. 
You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already. 
“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.   
“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.” 
Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do. 
He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him. 
He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied. 
“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked. 
You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”
Bucky’s eye twitches. 
“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest. 
You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”
Well. No.
“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”
Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way. 
“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.
“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”
Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’. 
But the sentiment is appreciated.
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The studio is moderately big. 
You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity. 
He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it. 
You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.
“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”
Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes. 
“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.
You stop talking to look at him.
“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation. 
If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.
“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”  
“Makeup?”
“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”
Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.  
“Just say it’s part of the theme.”
You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.” 
So Bucky gets his makeup done. 
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By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.
The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms. 
“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.
Bucky wants to scream.
“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.” 
You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’. 
 Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.
“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him. 
“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin. 
Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.” 
“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces. 
“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.” 
That sounds…doable. 
“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate. 
“Recording in three…two…one–”
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The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead. 
“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.  
Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.
You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned. 
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You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this. 
So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.
You kick him under the table. 
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The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t. 
At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.
You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”
Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”
Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you  had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you? 
Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”
“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”
Bitch.
“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”
“Where?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”
Bucky doesn’t add anything further. 
You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue. 
“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”
Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit. 
“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”
“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest. 
“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”
Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.  
“What?” you challenge.
“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”
You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless. 
“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.” 
Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening. 
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Your eyebrow twitches.
You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated. 
You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top. 
You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion. 
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You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.
Collectively, every spine in the room straightens. 
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“Asbestos?” you echo.
“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago. 
You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this. 
“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.” 
You stare at him. “You’re lying.”
He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.” 
“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”
“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.” 
“Hallucinations?”
“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”
“And the bite marks?” 
“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”
“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”
Bucky shrugs. 
You look like you’re going to lose your mind. 
You clear your throat. “What about the priest?
Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?” 
“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?” 
“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”
“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better. 
“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.
“You’re bullshitting.”
“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”
“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”
“Because the house was haunted.”
“By mold.”
Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch. 
You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers. 
“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”
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The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.
But he’s already gone. 
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The video goes up that weekend. 
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out  the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.
To Barnes (Work):
are you ready for your influencer era
He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.
To Barnes (Work):
influenza
Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies. 
The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.
And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved. 
From unknown
Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.
Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name. 
From unknown
Just letting you know though– he was lying.
From unknown
He doesn’t have an aunt. 
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Motherfucker.
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
Next part
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f1fnatic · 4 months
Text
PIPE ⤿ l. hamilton 44
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in which; you and your secret long-term boyfriend, turned fiancé, finally decide to hard launch and it sends the internet into a frenzy.
→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) smau
→ ( face claim. . . ) christina aguilera
→ ( pairing. . . ) lewis hamilton x singer!reader
→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) cursing, alludes to sex
→ ( author's note. . . ) whoop part 2!! this is the last part (obvi) but i had a lot of fun with this (very) mini series. i hope you enjoy! see end for more
→ ( masterlist )
─ INSTAGRAM ↴
f1
📍 baku, azerbaijan
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liked by y/nmusic, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 6,789,490 others
tagged: y/nmusic, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, and mercedesamgf1
f1 Singer song-writer, Y/N L/N, joins us at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix! The artist just recently released a new album called 'Liberation.' She has payed a visit to Mercedes, Ferrari, and Redbull!
view 589,348 comments
y/nfan mother is serving
y/nfan2 she is always serving 🤷🏻‍♀️
y/nmusic thank you so much for having me! i had a wonderful time❤
mercedesamgf1 It was a pleasure meeting you! liked by y/nmusic
scuderiaferrari Thank you for stopping by! liked by y/nmusic
redbullracing Thank you for your time, Y/N! liked by y/nmusic
charles_leclerc still freaking out.
maxverstappen1 you can say that again
carlossaainz55 shaking!
lewishamilton it was lovely to see you again, Y/N
y/nmusic it was nice to see you too, lew
lewisfan LEW???
y/nfan3 oh so we're on a nickname basis now?
lewisfan y/n and lewis looked REAL CLOSE today
y/nmusic
📍 baku, azerbaijan
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liked by lewishamilton, f1, charles_leclerc, taylorswift, and 9,312,356 others
tagged: f1, mercedesamgf1, and lewishamilton
y/nmusic had a wonderful time this weekend at the azerbaijan grand prix! thank you mercedes for having me :) met some pretty cool people and spent some time with my love
view 978,317 comments
f1 Thank you for coming!
mercedesamgf1 It truly was a pleasure to have you in the paddock! Maybe boss man can get you another pass 😉
y/nmusic a very tempting offer!
y/nfan SO WE'RE SOFT LAUNCHING NOW??
y/nfan2 lets get u back in the home 😁
charles_leclerc still starstruck!
maxverstappen1 me too
carlossainz55 me three
y/nmusic will front row tickets to my next show keep you starstruck?
lewishamilton 🖤
y/nmusic ❤
y/nlewis okay man what the freak
lewisfan OH MY GOD.
y/nstan this basically confirmed it
─ TWITTER ↴
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─ IMESSAGE ↴ today, 12:09
lew 😚 Well, I guess the cats out of the bag
y/n hello to you too what do you mean by that love?
lew 😚 People figured out that we're enganged, and by people I mean our stans on Twitter I wanted to keep this a secret just a little while longer
y/n i know you did, lew but people were bound to find out at some point i mean, we weren't being very sneaky per se
lew 😚 How can I when I am the luckiest man in the world?
y/n oh stop it
lew 😚 Never 😍
y/n well then, what do you want to do?
lew 😚 I think I have a few ideas 🤫
y/n what are you thinking lew?
lew 😚 You'll see 🖤
─ INSTAGRAM ↴
y/nmusic
📍heaven
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liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, taylorswift, gwenstefani, and 9,782,653 others
tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco
y/nmusic lewis carl davidson hamilton, where do i begin? at the start, when we first met? or just last week when you pampered me after a rough day? you never fail to make me smile. your work ethic is truly inspiring, i am low-key jealous of it. you push me to do my best and be my most authentic self, i thank you greatly for that, my love. i am so immensely lucky to wake up next to you every morning, to come home to you every day, and to call you mine. you have no idea how happy i was when you asked me that important question, that was and will forever be the best day of my life. you were the one at the end of my invisible string and i would not have wanted it ANY other way 💘 i cannot wait to grow old and wrinkly with you even though i know you will look the same you do now at 70 😅 you are my everything, i love you so much ❤️
ps i trust that you know what to do with it 🥴
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y/nstan they are the cutest
y/nfan they are actually the best
y/nfan2 no fr i will not hear ANYONE OUT.
shakira So happy for you! liked by y/nmusic
y/nstan PIPE IS ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP OMFG
lewishamilton My heart, I am so lucky to have you 🖤
y/nlewis no no, I'M the lucky one 😚
lewisfan she makes him so happy 😭
lewisfan2 they were meant for each other
roscoelovescoco The mosts amazing mums 🐶💞
y/nmusic my fur baby 💘
mercedesamgf1 Mother and father of the F1 paddock 👪 liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton
sebastianvettel Cheers to more third-wheeling 🥂 liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton
y/nfan3 "you were the one at the end of my invisible string" I AM ILL.
taylorswift so thats what pipe was about
y/nmusic 🫣🤭
lewishamilton I love you so much, sugar. The moments we are together I feel alive.
lewishamilton I would walk the ends of the earth if it meant to be with you.
y/nmusic and i'll follow, my champ
y/nfan4 screaming, crying, throwing up, rolling around in a ball, snot running down my face, bawling my eyes out, hyperventilating, scratching out my eyes they are so in love
gwenstefani u two are endgame
y/nmusic we better be lewishamilton🫡
lewishamilton
📍heaven
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liked by y/nmusic, sebastianvettel, mercedesamgf1, roscoelovescoco, and 9,874,236 others
tagged: y/nmusic
lewishamilton Happy 6 year anniversary to you, my heart. On this day last year, I asked you to be my forever, and you said yes. You are the kindest, most creative person I know and will ever meet. Your hardwork and dedication to your art is admirable. Sometimes I have to take a step back and ask myself "How am I so lucky?" You are the sun to my moon, the sky to my earth. You are a breath of fresh air on a hot day. A calming rain on a stressful one. You never fail to melt my worries away. Overall, you are a ray of sunshine. You are my lifeline, my support system, and my world 💞 There are so many more things I have to say about you, but I don't think that Instagram will let me 😅 You make my heart melt, I love you so much, my love 🖤
P.S. You know I like to play the doctor operation 😉
view 986,341 comments
y/nfan OH MY GOD
mercedesamgf1 The best couple in the paddock 🩶💙 liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton
y/nfan2 i am SOBBING HE IS SO SWEET
y/nmusic i am speechless
lewisfan1 mama y papa
lewisfan2 6 YEARS? theyve been together for 6 FUCKING YEARS?
y/nlewis "you are a breath of fresh air on a hot day" ???!?!?!!!??!
y/nlewis "you never fail to melt away my worries" HE LOVES HER SM 😭
y/nstan WAIT LEWIS IS XNDA OH MY FUCKING GOD
y/nmusic lewis i love you so much you dont even know ❤️
y/nmusic definitely not bawling rn
sebastianvettel Don't listen to her, Lewis!
y/nmusic seb :(
roscoelovescoco The bests mums in the worlds 🐶❤️
y/nmusic i wouldn't want anyone else to be my baby roscoe ❤️
nicorosberg Happy for you man 😁 liked by lewishamilton
taylorswift you guys are so cute!! liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton
lewisfan they are perfect for each other
aannndddd finished! i honestly had so much fun making this, finding pictures was lovely. i like where this went, so sorry if this post is super long!! merry christmas!! thank you for reading! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)
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writer-room · 4 months
Text
Listen when people say they want Percy to go on a villain arc most times I see it as they want him to go dark, want him to start murdering, maiming, going full Luke, etc. And I support that. If anyone deserves to kill people it's this kid.
However, let us be realistic for a moment, because I quite like the other alternative. Villain arc Percy usually entails "he's finally had enough of the Gods bullshit & will do things his own way". Let us think on this. What would Percy most likely do in this situation? Would it really be murder right off the bat?
I think he'd be the pettiest, annoying little shit there is. And because one can't usually threaten the Gods in a way that truly matters, but they can make them sweat really hard.
This goes beyond ignoring their calls and leaving them on read. He refuses to give food offerings unless it's the nastiest shit known to man. Bribes the cyclops into hucking huge objects up Mount Olympus before they all scurry off. Finds the olive tree Athena gave to Athens, and while he wouldn't have the heart to destroy it, he'd for sure rip off a branch & mail it to her (Annabeth nearly had to put them in witness protection).
Eventually it gets to the point he has Nico on speed-dial and offers him a shit ton of fast food & a 'get out of Percy's quest bullshit free' pass if he could hop into the Underworld and yoink up some annoying spirits or dead monsters to piss off the Gods. When the Gods get pissed at him Percy just silently pulls out some safe-for-demigods phone like "hang on I wanna see how many happy meals I owe Nico for bringing Typhon back up". They know he is not bluffing.
Could the Gods counteract him? Yeah, sure, Hera gave him amnesia and it was like 90% effective for a while. However, he kind of went off the rails, everyone else went off the rails, and then they had even more Roman nonsense to deal with. If anything it both solved but also made even more problems. And a much angrier Percy. So, frankly, they're very confident it could work, but they're a little worried about what the aftermath would be.
Ares suggests just killing him. Poseidon takes offense to this. Artemis scoffs and says even Ares couldn't beat him. Everyone stops for a moment. The question is not asked verbally. But it is seen in the darting eyes and shifting seats.
Can they kill Percy Jackson?
Well, sure, they must be able to. He's a powerful kid, no doubt, with powerful allies, but they are Gods. Of course they can kill him. So that's not the real question, they wouldn't dare really entertain such a thing to ever confirm if it was true, but this is rather the layer of frosting hiding the real atrocity of a cake underneath it.
What will they lose trying to kill Percy Jackson?
What will remain standing in the face of some 18-year-old who lived one of the hardest knocks of life, loves so much it makes them sick, is so completely unaware of his own strength not even they know its full extent, and currently has absolutely zero fucks to give about the end of a reign longer than he will ever understand?
They decide to quietly shut the lid on that whole fiasco and let Percy do whatever he wants.
Unfortunately, they can't exactly ignore everyone else. And everyone else is who Percy cares about the most. So, think of it more like leaving a grenade in a locked box in the attic. Just hope and pray you've moved out before something gets curious and starts rummaging around up there.
#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#rick riordan#dark percy jackson#ideas#talk#text post#greek gods#annabeth chase#nico di angelo#typhon#pjo headcanon#to be entirely clear percy is still someone who did just like manipulate bob into murder#and poisoned Akhlys thru her tears fully intending to kill#among other things. hes still that person. however hes also the guy who helps leo make some weird machine#and they try to test its flight by riding it off a cliff over the lake w bamboleo by gipsy kings blasting#hes still totally that guy (under stress but i say that not as an excuse just as an 'he doesnt do it on a whim. but he still Can')#but hes also like. stupid. & u gotta get him at the right Vibe before he starts to get like Really concerningly murderous about things#usually hes the regular amount of murderous like most halfbloods are bc they deal w too much on a regular basis#i think that a percy turning 'dark' would b him looking the gods in the eye & saying 'no lol. also u suck. L + ratio.'#& then when they try to fight him on it only THEN does he while still holding eye contact begin to make the ocean levels rise#specifically targeting important places to those gods & havin his ocean buddies destroy the place#u wanna dance god boys? he will spare humanity on some rock but he Will destroy everything else#he is one-shotting monsters bc hes not dealing w this. some bs happens & he just grabs some monster by the throat & makes them spill#if that doesnt work he just walks into olympus w pandoras box 2.0 & starts to open it until the gods will talk to him. they start talkin#bs again. he slowly opens it again. they talk. he shuts it. they spew more bs. he opens it a little faster. they give in#dark percy to me is someone who doesnt DEFAULT to violence but who realized 'oh i can just do whatever i want' & found that gods react#best when its violent. he only does this w gods & monsters bc he chooses fastest route to get what he wants. but he recognizes violence Bad#so he just looks for the most receptive response. & then he abuses it relentlessly. but he also hates the gods. come stop him btch u wont
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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no nut november — i.n (loser #2)
pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (18+), dry humping, messing around with clothes on
a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i's collab <3
word count: 2.9k
To say you were suspicious when Minho approached you at the surprise birthday party Jisung threw for him (over a week late) would be an understatement. He was one of the friends who would only come to you when he needed something, and you assumed this time was no different. 
“Happy birthday?” you offer, wondering if that’s what he was expecting. 
He’s unfazed by your greeting in the form of a question and just smiles, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 
“Thanks.”
You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to get to whatever it was he wanted from you but he stares right back with that stupid grin of his.
“So, um, were you surprised?” 
“Not really. Hannie talks in his sleep and he crashed while we were watching a movie together the other night. But hey, anyway, you like Jeongin, right?”
You’d have whiplash by now if you weren’t so used to Minho’s abrupt subject changes. This one, however, did manage to catch you a bit off guard. 
“Of course I do. He’s a good friend.”
“But you like him as more than a friend.” He wasn’t asking, he was stating. 
You blink, stunned. “Wh- I don’t-”
“Come on, don’t play dumb. I can see the way you look at him when you think no one’s paying attention.”
Well fuck. If Minho of all people had noticed your crush on Jeongin, who else knew? Did Jeongin know? Did everybody know?
“Relax, I'm not going to tell him,” he continues when he sees the look on your face. That wasn’t necessarily what you were worried about but good to know nonetheless. He sneaks a look at the younger member from across the room as he talks. “I just thought that you should know that he likes you too.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“You know I’m like one of his best friends, right?
“I-I mean, yeah, but...”
“And we live together, he literally never shuts up about you,” Minho adds. He raises his eyebrows expectantly but you don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “You don’t believe me?”
“No, it’s not that I don’t believe you… it’s just, why are you telling me?”
Minho shrugs. “Think of it as a favor.” 
“Since when have you done anyone a favor?”
“Ouch.”
“I’m serious,” you insist warily. “You’re acting weird. Why are you suddenly so invested in me and Jeongin? You have to have some kind of stake in this.”
Minho sighs and drops his head, which confirms your suspicions. “Okay, fine. Here’s the deal...”
Jeongin’s pleasantly surprised when you approach him at Minho’s birthday party. You’re one of his good friends but it’s rare that the two of you ever spend time alone together. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just gets so nervous around you. He can barely get a word out when you’re in the room, which is why when he sees you making your way across the room he prays for strength and holds his breath. 
“Hey,” you say casually, sliding into the seat next to him, and Jeongin feels his heart rate pick up almost immediately. “Bored already?”
Jeongin chuckles. “What gave it away?”
“Well, you’re sitting over here all by yourself. It wasn’t very hard to guess.”
“Yeah, I guess I should mingle more,” he sighs and puts his hands on his knees to push himself up.
“Wait, but not now! I just got here.”
Jeongin’s half-relieved he doesn’t have to move from his spot, half-panicked because now he’s forced to have this one on one conversation with you. He started sweating the minute you walked in the door how the fuck was he supposed to get through this in one piece. 
“Oh, right, sorry.”
“Did you get Minho a birthday present?” you ask, thankfully skirting right past Jeongin trying to ditch you. 
He nods. “I did.”
“What’d you get him?”
“It’s a secret.”
“You didn’t get him anything, did you?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was in the mail?”
“No.”
“I forgot,” Jeongin admits sheepishly. “I always get the guys birthday gifts after the fact. I’m terrible at that stuff.”
“You can just add your name to mine, if you want,” you offer. “People group us together all the time anyway.”
“Wha- they do?” 
“Yeah, you know like whenever I show up at the dorms the boys are always like ‘Jeongin’s in his room’, ‘Jeongin will be right out’. ‘Jeongin isn’t here right now, I thought he’d be with you’. Do they not say that stuff to you?”
“Uh, no. Not really.” 
Probably because they all know about his giant fucking crush on you. 
“Oh.” 
You sound disappointed. Fuck. How does he always manage to put his foot in his mouth? 
“I mean, because they just tease me right in front of you anyway.”
“They just like giving you a hard time,” you reason. 
“So you’re on their side now?”
You crook an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were sides.”
“There are.”
“Then I’m on your side, obviously.”
“Really?” 
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Cause you’re friends with all of us, not just me.”
“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”
Jeongin isn’t sure if he totally believes you but he’s elated regardless. He beams at you. 
“You’re my favorite too.”
-
He doesn’t know why, but after Minho’s birthday party, things between him and you feel different. The next time he sees you is on that Saturday, the fifth. You come over for game night like you do every weekend, and you take your spot next to Jeongin as usual. Everything seems normal. But it isn’t. Jeongin can feel it in the stiffness of your posture, in the nervous tapping of your foot against the hardwood floor. 
The night progresses as smoothly as any other game night, with Jeongin losing every single one, but he can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. 
You’re not mad at him, he knows that. You still laugh at his dumb jokes, you still let him cheat off of you, both good signs. 
When Felix calls for a break, Jeongin takes the opportunity to lean over and check in. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. 
You jump in your seat a little like you hadn’t been expecting him to address you, which was fair because he was usually too much of a coward to, and turn to face him. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Yup. Just fine.”
“Not good?”
“Neither good, nor bad,” you say with a shrug. 
“Why? Is something wrong?”
You open your mouth to answer but Felix’s voice from the kitchen cuts you off as he calls out to suggest that the group of you watch a movie instead of finishing the game of Uno you were currently playing.
“You never want to watch movies,” Hyunjin says, scrunching his face in confusion. 
“Yeah, you’re only suggesting that because you’re losing!” Seungmin adds.
Felix comes into the room, hands on his hips, and lips pursed. “Do you want to watch How to Train Your Dragon or not?”
-
Seven and a half minutes later, you’re all on the couch watching Hiccup struggle with his daddy issues. Jeongin didn’t have much say in the matter but you had seemed eager to watch the movie so obviously he was… also eager. To watch the movie. 
A lot of the guys’ girlfriends were over so you asked Jeongin to share a blanket with you, seeing as there were only so many to go around. 
He agrees, of course, even though he isn’t cold. If anything, he’s overly warm. He hopes you can’t feel the heat radiating from his body. 
It’s hard to focus on the movie with you so close, not that he was really interested in it in the first place, but then you snuggle close to Jeongin and rest your head on his shoulder and his brain short circuits. You must feel his body tense because you sit back up immediately after, frowning. 
“No, you can lay back down,” Jeongin insists, going as far as craning his neck in the opposite direction to give you more room. 
“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you mumble. 
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he asks.
“Because you’re being all weird.”
“I’m not-”
“Hey, you two,” Jisung hisses from the other couch, “could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to watch the movie.”
Jeongin apologizes and you shift away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s really done it now. He tries to remedy the situation by scooting closer but you don’t even look at him. 
From across the room, Jeongin makes eye contact with Minho, who gives him a look as if to say what the fuck are you doing? 
Minho’s been trying to get Jeongin to make a move on you for months now, claiming to be tired of listening to him pine over you from afar, but Jeongin knows his friend really just wants him to be happy, put himself out there and all that. Minho’s been especially insistent ever since the eight of them made that stupid bet. He’s somehow under the impression that if Jeongin tells you how he feels it’ll eliminate him as competition. But for that to happen, you would have to like him back. 
He doubts he’ll win No Nut November anyway, girlfriend or not. Hell, half the reason he acts so strange around you is because he’s using up all of his energy trying not to get hard. All you have to do is smile at him and his dick will twitch in his pants. In fact, he knows tonight after you go home he’ll just lay in bed, hard and aching with thoughts of you as he wills his cock to soften on its own. 
But at least he wouldn’t be the first loser. Jisung made sure of that by losing on the second day of the month. Everyone saw it coming. 
Jeongin’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of you yawning. 
“Are you tired?” he asks softly, not wanting to get scolded by his members for talking again.
“A little.”
“Do you want to lay down in my room? You could stay the night if you want, I know it’s getting late.”
“That’d be great, Innie, thanks.” You smile sleepily at him and reach for his hand. “Will you come with me? I don’t want to go by myself, I’d feel weird.”
Jeongin nods, brain going on autopilot as he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. No one questions where the two of you are going, either too engrossed in the movie to notice, or too uninterested to care. 
You flop down on his bed as soon as the door’s shut behind you. Jeongin chuckles. 
“Make yourself comfortable.”
“I will,” you hum. 
Despite the fact that the two of you don’t spend much time together, it isn’t uncommon for you to end up in Jeongin’s bed. He offers it to you whenever you decide to stay over because he doesn’t want you driving yourself home if you’re tired or if you’ve been drinking. He always takes the couch even though you’ve pointed out that his bed is big enough for the both of you. He doesn’t trust himself not to embarrass himself if he were to entertain the idea. 
“I know you wore jeans tonight so you can borrow something of mine to sleep in if you want.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can just sleep in my underwear,” you say as you start to unzip your pants. “Unless that bothers you?”
Jeongin’s eyes widen at the sight and he spins on his heel to face the wall and give you privacy. 
“N-no, that’s fine,” he squeaks out. 
“You don’t have to turn away, Jeongin. It’s not like I’m a stranger.”
He ignores you and only turns back around once he hears you slide underneath the covers, knowing that he’d instantly get hard if he did any sooner. 
“I know, I just... uh, let me know if you need anything else,” he says and heads for the door. 
“Wait,” you call after him. “Won’t you stay with me?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says slowly. 
You huff in frustration and throw back the covers. “I-I don’t understand. I should have never listened to Minho-”
“Minho? What’s Minho got to do with this?”
You look guilty all of the sudden, and Jeongin’s drops as his brian conjures up every possible scenario that involves you and Minho talking about him. None of them are good. 
“Y/n?” he prompts again. 
“He told me that he knew I had feelings for you and that you had feelings for me too, and then he told me about that idiotic bet you all made and tried to get me in on it, I guess to seduce you or something? But obviously he doesn’t know what he’s talking about because you don’t even like me!”
It’s entirely too much information for Jeongin’s brain to process at once. All he can focus on is that you have feelings for him??? 
“You have feelings for me?” he asks, dumbfounded. 
“Did you listen to anything else I just said?” you huff. 
“Not really.”
“Yes, I’ve had a big fat crush on you for forever now, thanks for noticing.”
“Really?”
“Really. Are you going to make me say it again?”
“I kind of want to,” Jeongin admits, finally feeling brave enough to approach you on his bed. 
“That’s mean.”
“Why? I have a crush on you too, silly.”
You blink in surprise. “What?”
“Minho wasn’t messing with you. He was right.”
“You like me?”
“How could I not?”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” you scoff. 
Jeongin rolls his eyes at you and pouts. “You just make me nervous, okay? I can’t function around a pretty girl.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
He nods and takes your hand. “The prettiest.”
He’s not sure who makes the next move, probably you, but then you’re kissing. Your arms are wrapped around Jeongin’s neck, pulling him down close to you as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Clumsily, he climbs onto the bed with you and slots himself in between your legs, moaning into your mouth a little when his hand brushes against your bare thigh. 
You already sound breathy and desperate for him and it spurs him on further, hips grinding into you instinctively. He’s practically fully hard in his sweats, there’s no way you can’t feel it, but you don’t seem to mind. If anything, it turns you on even more. 
You’re the first to break away, though, pushing on Jeongin’s chest to put more distance between you. “Wait, wait, the bet! Don’t you want to win?”
He doesn’t even need to think about it. “Fuck the bet.”
Jeongin kisses you again, letting his hands travel beneath your shirt and up to your tits. He traces your curves, outlining each one, before moving down to your underwear. It seems that you have a similar train of thought because you reach for the waistband of his pants at the same time, but he stops you with a sheepish grin. 
“This is really embarrassing, but I haven’t jerked off in like a week so I won’t last long.”
You smile against his lips. “It’s okay, Innie. We can just go again if you cum too fast. We have all the time in the world now.”
The assurance is all he needs to relax. You begin to palm him over his sweats and it becomes very apparent to Jeongin that he’s going to cum way faster than he wants to. He whines, actually whines, and bucks his hips into your hand. 
“Shhh, the others are still outside,” you remind him. 
“S-sorry.”
You giggle and pull him in for another kiss as he fumbles for the waistband of your panties, wanting to make you feel good too. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric, lower and lower until you’re moaning and arching your back off the bed. 
“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you whisper. 
Jeongin keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles, while he works the rest of his hand into your underwear. He figures that if he can’t make you cum on his cock, his fingers will have to do. He’s been told that he has nice hands on more than one occasion, and he’s gotten good reviews from partners in the past, so it’s kind of like a failsafe for him. 
“Shit, you’re wet,” Jeongin breathes.
“Do you believe I like you now?”
For some reason, that’s what does it for him. He shudders and falls forward into you as he cums in his pants. 
“Oh god, sorry, sorry,” he groans. 
There’s so much of it too, it seeps through the material of his sweatpants and onto your hand and he’s mortified.
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you soothe, rubbing his back as he comes down. “You told me it was going to happen, I expected it.”
“But still.”
“It really isn’t a big deal, Innie. If anything, I think it’s hot that I have that effect on you. And you can go again right?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes! Yeah, just give me like, ten minutes.”
You laugh and pet his hair. “Well in that case, I can think of a lot of things we can do in ten minutes, can’t you?”
nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka
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belit0 · 7 months
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ahh, i just found out tobirama was about 40 when he became hokage! which makes him even hotter🤭. can you do a hokage tobirama and his young pregnant shy wife meeting his family and like people around the village
I need to EXPLICTLYYYY know where you got that information from bc confirming that he was a daddy brings a different flavor to his character🫠❤️‍🩹
For clarification purposes: Madara is blind in this piece. Hashirama healed Izuna before he died, under Madara's acceptance of peace, and Aniki never took his younger brother's eyes, preferring to go blind rather than steal his sight.
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No one dares to look him in the eye, let alone question the possessive hand that won't let go of (Y/N)'s hips. Her belly is too prominent to deny the situation, but no one is used to seeing the current Hokage with his wife.
Senju Tobirama devoted himself to hiding the woman he promised as a bride, unable to tolerate stares at her and unfortunate comments. Both men and women would send lust and desire toward her, and he would have no way to stop them all. What better remedy than to shelter (Y/N) until his ownership is undeniable?
Tobirama can be quite capricious.
The man even went as far as not allowing his own older brother to meet her, Hashirama himself excluded from the equation. To think that the former Hokage could betray his younger brother like that was ridiculous to everyone, but it wasn't about lust with him. No.
Tobirama hid (Y/N) because he refused to lose the one ray of light in his life (after Anija's solar shower, of course). His past is made up of death and disappointment, built as an unfeeling weapon of war by his father, robbed of the ability to empathize with anyone until the creation of Konoha.
His wife brought a peace he didn't know he needed into his life, a breath of fresh air even as nations struggled to not cooperate with peace, freedom among so much horror and suffering. (Y/N) showed him that life could be spent out of survival mode, that he could relax for sleep and accept another person into his bed without danger.
Having found what he always sought without knowing it, Tobirama could not afford to lose it.
Keeping her away from everything and everyone (beyond his possible jealousy) was also composed by the need to protect her, to remove her from the spotlight that inevitably comes with being the Hokage's future wife, to prevent her from being used against him. The albino's attitudes were based on affection, but now that (Y/N) is round with his creation, full of him, he can't help but proudly display her.
He strolls through the market streets with his head held high and his wife tightly in his grip, shooting hostile glances at anyone who looks at them for more than five minutes at a time. Of course he expects people to be surprised, but he doesn't want her to end up with the evil eye either.
"Hokage-Sama! Here, here!" shouts a little old lady from his favorite food stall. He can't ignore people from his village, those who trust him, and comes up to her stall to give her a smile unbecoming of Tobirama. "You look very happy, Hokage-Sama!"
"Ah... how could a man not be, having such a beautiful woman by his side?" And (Y/N) blushes, waving slightly at the little old lady and trying to hide the redness of her cheeks behind the sleeve of her yukata.
The elderly woman smiles, and hands them both a small package of food without accepting anything in return, "here, here, take this, enjoy life!" She practically pushes them out of her stall, and they resume walking to the point they agreed on with Hashirama.
People stare and stare at them, some even dare to congratulate the Hokage, give him blessings, ask if he could feel how many children are there. Some inquiries make him uncomfortable, and with just a blunt look he gets rid of those prying eyes.
They receive more gifts along the way, offerings of love and respect, food and decorations, townspeople declaring their eagerness to meet the Hokage's offspring. Tobirama would not expect to have interacted with so many people in such a short distance, and his social battery is noticeably drained, squeezing (Y/N) more and more protectively against his body.
By the time they reach Hashirama's house, the Hokage no longer wants anything to do with anyone.
"Ayoooooo! Tobi! You made it!" his older brother waits for them sitting at the door, like a little kid waiting for his dad to come home from work. The problem is, Hashirama is not a child, and not little one either. He pounces on the two, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their faces to his chest, invasive and effusive as always but enhanced by (Y/N)'s presence.
"Aaaa! (Y/N)! Finally released from your confinement! It's so beautiful to finally meet you!" Anija lets go of him, only to squeeze her separately, give her kisses on the crown of her head and clench her cheeks like a grandmother. Yes, Hashirama could be compared to a grandmother. "Have you looked... I mean, in there? See what's in there? We could ask Izuna to-"
"No."
"But-"
"No. It's a surprise." Tobirama pulls (Y/N) out of his arms, and hugging her enters the house he knows by heart. He heads straight for the courtyard, where he knows Hashirama (who comes behind him with his head down and feigning sadness) enjoys afternoons of tea.
Of course, he does not expect the surprise his brother has prepared for him there.
The whole clan, the whole damn family is gathered around a huge table, different from the one Anija prefers for his solitary lunches. Sitting in the two main seats, the Uchiha brothers, who have no business in a Senju house, full of Senju men and women.
Is this what peace looks like? Graphically represented? Tobirama wants to vomit.
"TOBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He is greeted by his entire family as a whole, and the elders soon hover over both of them. Females kidnap (Y/N) to shower her with questions and love, all a carbon copy of how Hashirama behaves but boosted to the tenth.
The albino is also abducted, but by the young men and his older brother, who seems to have regained his cheerfulness. They sit him down in front of the Uchiha brothers, and it's like sending a cow to the slaughter.
"Tobi Tobes... I didn't know your family called you like that, neither that your wife was SO pregnant... He hides too many things from us, right Aniki?" Izuna starts, as usual, not missing a chance to poke him with whatever comes in front of him.
"Hm."
"How many children do you have there? 3? She's... prominent!"
"Get my wife out of your mouth before I make you remember why the war existed in the first place." It's a blunt threat, and the young men around him tense up. Peace is old at this point, but the habits of a life that no longer exists are hard to forget.
"He's joking! Yes, yes, he's kidding! No tobi?" Hashirama tries to disperse the waters, and it works, at least with those who don't know them inside out. Madara knows what's coming, and so does he somehow.
"You want me to see how many are there? With the Sharingan, I mean... it's not like I actually want to get inside-"
"Izuna. Enough." Aniki tries, and succeeds until the albino glares at his little brother.
"Madara... you're blind, but if only could you see the size of that woman's belly..."
"IZUNA!" This time it's Hashirama, who gets indignant every time the Uchiha speaks so lightly about his brother's eye condition. Maybe it's the way they both have of cooperating with the situation, but it's still terrible in his ears.
The Uchiha leader chuckles under his breath, and it's all the validation Izuna needs to go on.
"So, what do you say, Tobi Tobes, want to check it out?" and before he can activate his Dōjutsu, two huge branches stop them both. Tobirama, who was in the process of pulling out a kunai and jumping to his throat, is imprisoned in his seat. Izuna, about to reveal the mystery the couple wanted to keep, has a huge trunk wrapped around his head in the eye area.
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you too."
"Fuck all of you guys." And everyone turns around in surprise, because this time it's (Y/N) doing the talking. She puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, dodging the wood on him, and gives a pleasant smile to the Uchiha brothers. "We'll find out how many children are here at the time of delivery, for the time being, I appreciate your efforts, Lord Izuna."
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forgeofthenine · 5 months
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Oh! Duh, I have an awesome hc theme I've been toying with since I'm planning that fic.
How Dammon, Zevlor, and Rolan (or any other tieflings you'd like to add) would handle a human friend for SO asking about their fiendish traits (horns, tails, eyes, claws). They're hoping for a closer look or even maybe to touch. They've never met or been near a tiefling before. They've of course very polite and even a bit bashful, not wanting to make them uncomfortable. Feel free to throw some nsfw if you want. 💙
This was an absolute blast to write, it's not a secret that I love my tieflings infernal traits :)
I added in just a lil bit of NSFW as a treat, too
Light NSFW under the cut
The bachelors with a partner that wants to explore their tiefling traits
Dammon
Our lovely blacksmith is more than happy to let you have a better look at his infernal traits
Honestly, he finds the way you blush when you try and ask for permission so endearing
Lets you run your fingertips over his tail and horns, Dammon will offhandedly mention they're sensitive
If you bring up hearing that tieflings have ridges and bumps on their skin he'll offer to take off his shirt
You can see the way his breath hitches when you feel the ridges on your chest
Dammons never had so much attention centred on his infernal traits, he's honestly a little embarrassed
If your hand happens to drift nearer to his waistband then he'll be embarrassed for a whole different reason
Once you get to this point, just a single insinuation that you're curious what the rest of a tiefling looks like is enough to get Dammon into bed
He absolutely chuckles at the surprised way you look at his dick, he takes your hand to help you wrap it around him too
By the end of the night you'll be very familiar with tiefling anatomy-
Zevlor
Things go much slower with Zevlor
He's happy to let you feel over his horns and ears, or look into his eyes even if it was a little embarrassing
You'll even be able to feel his tail on occasion, even if you aren't dating him
It's only once the two of you are together and you're reading one of his books on tieflings that you ask if he really has ridges and bumps all over his body
He stumbles over his words a little bit before confirming that they do have them on their bodies, but not quite covering every bit
I feel like you wouldn't see much of Zevlors skin until you two have sex for the first time
Afterwards, while the two of you are lounging in your bed with your bodies pleasantly aching
That's when you can run your fingers over his chest and shoulders to see how they feel
And, surprising you both, Zevlor will start purring
It's then that he runs his own hands over your skin and explains more of his anatomy to you
Particularly about purring, and why tieflings do it
This entire time his tail will absolutely be wrapped around you, likely one of your legs
Rolan
If you show any curiosity for his infernal traits in front of his siblings then they're teasing you both endlessly
If you ask very nicely when in private then he'll let you feel his horns, but he grumbles the whole time
You can get a good feel of Rolans tail when he's tired because it's likely he's already wrapped it around you
And if you want to see the rest of him?
Like with Zevlor, having sex is probably your best chance
Honestly, just give his horns a firm tug while making out and he's snapping his fingers to magically strip you both
I can just see him lying you down on his bed as he pushes into you, taking your hands in his and running them over the ridges on his chest
Definitely teases you for wanting to feel him up
"Is it everything you hoped for, darling?"
Rolan loves when you trace your fingertips over each bump on his shoulders, he absolutely lies on top of your chest to give you easy access
He also looks the prettiest when his head is on your chest, sleepy eyes looking up at you while he purrs
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