yellowsweater-bluevest · 8 months ago
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“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,��� he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
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vitalverstappen · 7 days ago
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Homecoming - C. Leclerc
summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival?
pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver! reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n
word count: 5.5k
a/n: so @coco-loco-nut (aka my irl bestie) and i both wrote fics based on the same concept, theirs is linked at the end!
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Contrary to popular opinion, Monaco was one of, if not your least favorite racetrack. It was narrow, making it hard to pass and way too easy to defend. Analysts would say all of that makes the Grand Prix exciting, while you found it to be just plain stupid. For the last half of the race, you were stuck in a DRS train in 10th, sandwiched between Alex in front and Pierre behind. 
“Fucking hell guys, this is boring.” You complained over the radio “Sorry I can’t do any better right now” 
And you couldn’t do any better the rest of the race. While your race was nowhere near eventful, you were able to get glimpses of the screens showing Charles crossing the checkered flag first at his home race. You didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on your face. He had worked all of his life for this moment. He deserved every bit of euphoria. 
You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him. 
“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out. 
As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race. 
“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl” 
A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.” 
Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say. 
When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque. 
Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it. 
“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting. 
“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media” 
“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed
You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered 
Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing” 
You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations. 
Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves. 
You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself. 
Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you. 
He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand. 
That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering. 
“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke 
“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit 
“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied. 
“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?” 
You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender. 
“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered
Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was. 
“You know my drink order?” You asked 
“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight” 
It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous. 
But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night. 
The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid. 
“So what’s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked 
“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic 
Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him” 
“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed 
“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded
You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.
“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him” 
Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”
“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject. 
The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you. 
“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours 
“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”
“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased 
You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug. 
“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern 
“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him. 
Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends. 
“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street. 
It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed. 
You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name. 
“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom. 
His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark” 
Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room. 
Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet. 
Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context. 
With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.
You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.
“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice 
You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad” 
“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted” 
The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back. 
“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked 
Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry” 
“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?” 
Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness” 
Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse. 
“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.
Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings. 
“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.” 
The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious. 
“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face
“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando
“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out 
“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing” 
“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep” 
“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco. 
“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”
Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?” 
Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.”
Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room
“I have no idea” You admitted  “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”
The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans. 
Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.
“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum
From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over. 
“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat 
“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.” 
Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him. 
“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans 
Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race. 
As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different. 
You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend. 
“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.
“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied 
“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?” 
“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.  
“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun” 
Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow” 
You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points. 
And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.    
The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively. 
“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you. 
Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step” 
You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know” 
After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid. 
“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?” 
“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said 
As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock. 
“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day. 
Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine. 
“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”
Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand. 
“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?” 
“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried” 
Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.
“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked 
“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious. 
“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max. 
A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.” 
Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer. 
“How do you know that?” He asked 
“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday.  She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.” 
“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. 
“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.
The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed. 
Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers. 
“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!” 
“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms 
“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?” 
A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair” 
Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race. 
You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours
He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink 
“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”
The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.
“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.
“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you. 
As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. 
“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.
Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”
“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.
When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.
“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.
“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.
Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.
You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”
As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.
At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.
You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment. 
“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you
Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.” 
You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight” 
He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. 
Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell. 
“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face 
“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption
“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response. 
“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time” 
Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy” 
You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much” 
The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.
As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having. 
“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious
You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?” 
Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.” 
He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it” 
You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing
Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?” 
He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?” 
You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him. 
Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin. 
“You wanna get out of here?” You asked 
“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand 
======
want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!
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elssero · 3 months ago
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best friends big sister
i.midoriya
♰ nsfw/suggestive, sub!izuku
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bakugo tried to keep you a secret from his friends-he really did. facing the inevitable reaction they would have to you was not something he wanted to face right now.
he manages to do so until half way through his first year in college when he begrudgingly brings kirishima home thinking you weren't there-
it goes the same way everytime- he introduces you to someone and they immediately fall for you. sometimes he feels you do it on purpose, leaning into kirishima as he introduces himself, holding his hand for a second to long when he greets you.
he watches as you bat your eyelashes up at his red haired friend. speaking to him with a tone in your voice that sickeningly seductive. his signature frown on his face.
you do it too piss him off, you know he hates it when his friends fawn over you- it's been happening since you were little after all.
he hates how kirishima doesn't shut up about you after that- your only a year older right?? means he would totally have a chance if it wasn't for the oh so sacred "bro code."
it doesn't stop his gushing though- soon his entire friend group is aware of who you are. they're stalking your instagram during lunch. they beg him to hang out at his place in hopes of the chance they'll get to see you- to have a conversation with you.
he complains about it constantly- "shitty hairs askin' about you again." you can't help but giggle at the scowl on your brothers face- he really does get so wound up over nothing.
it's not like you don't face the same- your own friends all agree that your younger brother is insanely attractive. you don't let it get to you though- you know your both crazy beautiful- your siblings after all.
you tease him about it regularly- "when are those friends of yours coming over next kats?" and he just grumbles- something about him being forced to partner up with some stupid nerd for a project due on monday so he can't hang out with his chosen friends this weekend. your excited at the idea of a new face- a new name to tease bakugo about.
imagine your shock when none other than izuku midoriya knocks on your house door at 10am sharp that saturday morning.
he's grown. that much your sure about- he towers over you now- forcing you to bend your neck backwards to look up at him.
his face immediately flushes when he sees you-clearly not expecting you to be the one to open the door.
he feels silly- his curses at himself in his head for his stupid crush he's had on you since childhood. he's an adult now. a proper adult with proper adult problems- yet he can't seem to hold himself together when your in his vicinity.
he knew he should've just invited kachan over to his place for the project work-
his thoughts are stopped dead in his tracks when you jump on him- pulling the boy into a tight hug as you gush about how much bigger he's gotten- how much he's grown.
he's definitely not that same little boy you knew when you were younger- at least not physically. he's built- insanely so actually. you can't help but wonder how long he spends in the gym each week-maybe you should start going when he's there-
he squeaks out a quiet hi as he fumbles against your touch- he's incredibly aware of how close you two are- your tits pressed tightly against his chest. you don't seem to notice but he does.
you let him go- much to his thanks, allowing him to regain his breathe as he shakily as he asks you how you've been.
you begin to talk his ear off and he's reminded exactly why he liked you so much when you were small. your nothing like your brother, yeah your a little teasing- maybe a little mean at times but it's clear it's all in good faith. your funny, charismatic, easy to talk too and incredibly attractive.
he's in awe of you as you speak- explaining the piles of work your dealing with due to your major, complaining about your workload.
you take a second to look at him- a small hint of nostalgia bubbling in your stomach. you really liked izuku when you were younger- not just because it pissed kats off more than anything when thee two of you would interact but because he's sweet.
he's always been a sweetheart- so nice- so helpful. your reminded of how he used to trail after you and your brother as kids- constantly wanting to be around you- standing incredibly close to you as he shook with nerves.
the two boys had a falling out when they hit middle school- you were never really told why, just that your brother and izuku were not friends anymore- if they ever really were, and you being loyal to ur little brother stopped talking to the green haired boy in solidarity- much to your dismay.
you don't really know how they made up either- all you know is that the nervous boy you haven't seen since he was a young teenage is now in your family kitchen again- and he's certainly done a lot of growing up.
you don't get long to catch up before your brother is storming into the kitchen and physically pulling the other boy up to his room- ignoring your complaints about not having enough time to talk to him- bakugo knows exactly what your doing.
izukus painfully obvious crush he had on you when you were younger was no secret to you- despite not feeling the same way for the boy at the time you can admit that you maybe played into it abit when you were teens-
you would playfully push his shoulder, lean over the back of him to look over his phone- use virtually any excuse to touch him- enjoying watching the effect you had on him.
you think that's were it started- your love for attention- your reputation of flirting and leading people on. you truly believe it all started with your brothers childhood friends silly crush on you.
you retreat back to your room to get some studying done- you work for hours, finally being satisfied with the work you've done for today you decide to reward yourself with the desert you've left in the fridge.
your leaving the kitchen when izuku walks in- he's clearly ready to leave, bag his back as he makes his way to the door- stopping in his tracks when he notices you.
you've changed outfit since he saw you this morning into something more comfortable- maybe your shorts are a little too short for having visitors round but you don't pay it much mind.
his eyes however go straight to your now exposed thighs- face heating up as he trails your body. he needs to get out of there and fast. he can already feel the arousal growing in his chest. he shuffles out a weak goodbye as he begins walking again.
you stop him before he gets to the door- calling out after him. you ask for his number, you know to keep in touch? his eyes are blown wide but he scrambles to take his phone out anyway- pushing it into your hand as he looks away. you type your number in-feeling pleased with yourself and the reaction you've bring out of the boy infront of you.
you sign your contact with a little <3 and send yourself a message too double check that the numbers correct before you let him leave. closing the door behind him as he spits out a thank you and a see you later.
it's weeks before you see him again- you engage in small conversations over texts- complains about your jobs and your coursework, nothing too serious before your made aware by your mother that he and inko will be joining your family for dinner this friday night coming.
your ecstatic as you message him- telling him your so excited to see him and promising to keep him a seat next to you at the dinner table.
friday rolls around quickly and you spend the day helping your father prepare the apparent feast your serving your guests tonight.
you spend a quick hour getting ready- showering, doing your hair, freshening up your make up. your making tonight fun you decide as you do your finishing touches.
it's mitsuki who greets the boy and his mother at the door- wrapping them in a tight hug. your mothers been looking forward to this all week- excited to finally have the pair back in their home again after many years.
it's comfortable immediately- your thankful there's no awkwardness surrounding the long overdue get together.
you settle into chatter easily after the initial greetings- setting in your living room as your father finishes up on dinner- your laughing about old time-your squashed comfortably between the two younger boys, leaning more into izuku and facing him to talk to him from time to time- watching a blush rise to his face when his eyes uncontrollably look down to catch a glimpse of your cleavage.
it's not long before masaru is calling you all through for dinner, you take a seat on the left side of your dining table- ushering izuku to take the boy other seat on that side next to you, your parents take their seats ate their respected heads of the table as inko and bakugo take the seats facing you and midoriya.
you settle into easy chatter- inko flows words or gratitude towards you and your dad for the food and you smile warmly at her- you really have missed the woman.
you divert your attention away from the mother and to the son sitting next to you- he's tense. your shoulders are so close that they would be touching if you moved even slightly words him, you lightly kick his foot under the table and his eyes dart to yours quickly, you attempt to stay composed as he looks at you in shock- you can't help the small giggle that rises in your throat-
you take a look around quickly before continuing your next move- no one's paying attention, mitsuki is nearly leaning over the table to talk to inko- bakugo in between them is distracted by their conversation as your dad looks over at the scene adoringly.
you take this as an opportunity to do something incredibly risky- not just because your at dinner with your parents- because the boy next to you could totally react your advances. you don't think he will-but you keep in mind that he never fails to surprise you.
you move your leg back to his now, wrapping yours around his as you begin a little game of footies with him- he's rigid now- unmoving as he looks at you with wide eyes-
he doesn't move your leg and he definitely doesn't tell you to stop- you lean in to speak to him- almost a whisper- "are you enjoying your meal zuku'?"
his face flushed an even darker red- he's clearly not used to you being so close- the position your bodies in squeezes your cleavage even more- it feels impossible for him to rip his eyes away-
"y-yeah" he stutters out it-it's adorable how difficult it is for him to say a single word- you play dumb, pretending your not painfully aware of your affect on the boy- "what's wrong zuku-? your all red."
your taunting him- teasing him- you love to watch how his breathe hitches and his eyes snap away from your tits and to his lap- looking down in shame.
"m' fine-" he says it with a small smile- he's trying to convince you, he knows your not that stupid. you move your hand to the side of his face, gracing his cheek slightly as you lightly push his face to meet your- your noses being only a couple inches apart-
"you sure? you look like your overheating?" you say it innocently- voice mixed with false worry- you know exactly why his face is so red.
you move your hand away from his face- the other still firmly on the table and your arm closest to the boy finds its itself resting on his lap.
his breathe hitches at the contact- his eyes snapping to yours- the look of desperation on his face causes you to move your own thighs tightly together.
he doesn't answer- so instead you move your hand even closer to him- having it now resting on his inner thigh as you watch him attempt to keep composed.
"y-yes. m' f-fine. i promise." his breathe heavy as he says it, he's struggling against the the movement of your hand lacing up and down his thigh.
"tell me if you want me to stop" it's a complete whisper now- you glance around the room again to double check that no one's paying attention to the two of you- your glad they aren't- your hand isn't seen under the table and you've positioned yourself in a way that too your family it looks as if your only whispering in his ear, you'd play it off as if you were telling him one of bakugos big secrets instead of the light touches your giving his thigh.
you move your eyes to his suspiciously when he doesn't answer and the movement of your hand stops- threatening to be removed before he rushes out an answer-
"don't stop." it's quick and quiet- his voice kept low to not alert the people around you, the desperation in his voice isn't missed by you as you begin to move your hand again- closer and closer to his bulge with each slip.
your hand lightly graces the outline of his dick as you watch hold back a moan- you decide you love seeing him like this- already looking so fucked out.
it only takes a second touch of his clothed cock before he snaps his head away from yours to meet the table- biting down on his hand to muffle the whine threatening to escape his throat-
the loud noise snaps everyone's head towards izuku-you remove your hand quickly before anyone can notice and place a look of fake worry on your face as you place a hand on his shoulder before leaning down to him-
"are you okay izuku-? do you want me to take you upstairs- maybe you can lay down for abit?" it's a show- voice laced with fake concern as you deliver your performance- tricking both your mothers into a state of admiration for how sweet your being to the boy- they give each other a wide eyed look before ushering you both upstairs together- hm...
"oh yes sweetie take the poor boy upstairs- it seems your father has forgotten how badly the boy deals with spice-* your mother laughs slightly before excusing you from the table- you take the opportunity to pull the boy next to you away from the table, hand still rested on his shoulder as you guide him upstairs- his eyes unmoving as he looks down on the floor in shame.
you move him towards your bedroom door- he stops before he steps inside- "w-what are you doing?" he's whispering- as if someone could hear him from all the way downstairs.
you reply casually- "i'm taking you into my room- you need to lay down" he's not convinced when you finish your sentence so you continue- "i'll take good care of you kay'? i don't mind."
this forces him to look at you- he's trying to figure something out- he sighs before he lets you move him into your room- he's gave in- and it really didn't take much at all.
you pull him towards your bed, signalling for him to sit against the headboard as you sit at the side of the bed- your back touching thighs as you face him side on.
"you wanna tell me what happened back there?" your straight to the point- you thought it was going well? did he not want you to touch him?
"n-nothing-" you eye him suspiciously, an eyebrow raised as you reply to him. "m' not an idiot zuku- i can tell something's up."
he can't even look at you when he finally replies after a long stretch of silence "it felt t-too good." your puzzled at this- asking him what on earth he means when he says it felt too good??
his face is dripped in shame as he fiddles with his hands- you take a look at him properly- it's then when you notice a very slight wet patch at his crotch-
wait.
"izuku- baby." you take a breathe before continuing. watching as his face lights up at the nickname. "you wanna tell me what really happened when you hit your head against the table?"
you know. he knows you know and he feels disgusting- what will you think of him when you force him to admit he came in his pants from you touching his dick twice.
"i- um okay f-fuck." he can't find his words. "i-i came."
he watches your face for a reaction but you don't give him one, you don't move an itch and he feels like he ruined it- your everything he's ever wanted- for as long as he can remember- and when he finally has the chance with you he's been dreaming about for years- even if only for tonight he goes and fucks it up by being a fucking prejac.
your silent as you move your hands- slightly shocking the boy in from of you. you place your hand on the line of your trouser before looking up at him- "can i take these off?" your eyes meet his and he takes notice of the hazed look in your eyes before nodding.
you pull them down- taking his boxers with them as you admire him- his cock bounces up immediately as it's freed from its restraints- you admire it for a second- he's big- not completely huge but big. thick too-
you stare for abit- seeing the cum from before still sticky on his dick and his boxers- he's getting increasingly more nervous but he can't help the twitch in his dick as you watch him.
"can i touch you?"
his face flushes even more- "p-please" it's nearly silent, only loud enough for you to hear it.
you don't waste a second before your hands on his dick, not giving him any warning as your hand goes up and down his cock- he moans immediately-already overstimulated by your touch-
"w-wait wait!" he's struggling to speak between his moans. "if you k-keep ah fuck- if you keep going so f-fast i'll come again-"
his confession only speeds the movements of your hands- it's as if that's what you want. he doesn't have a second to think before you dip your head down to his dick and take his red tip in your mouth.
you move your tounge around his dick as your hand continues to move along what you don't have in your mouth- he whines at the feeling of your tongue before bottoming out only a minute seconds after your mouth intintally took him in.
he comes ropes there's so much of it that it's spilling out of your mouth and down your chin- his orgasm lasts him a couple of seconds before he lays his head back- still whining when you remove your lips from his dick.
he watches as you swallow him- moving your hand to collect the spilt cum on your chin back into your mouth. he could be hard again at the sight-
"zuku." you look at him dangerously- his eyes unable to leave yours- "i wanna fuck you."
he stays still. not trusting his voice to speak as he fears he'll shout his answer- yes! he wants to say-yes please fuck me but he can't find the words.
"cmon izuku- let me fuck ur pretty dick baby-" he whines again- cock now once again fully hard at the way you speak to him- your coaching him- leading him. and he loves it.
"p-please tuck me-" that's all it takes tor you to rile your dress up- moving your panties to the side as you position yourself on top on him- he sounds pathetic-practically begging you to fuck him and who are you to refuse him-
you manoeuvre your body so your straddling him comfortably- you line your entrance at the tip of dick- hovering for a second as you admire him below you- your stopped before you can move down by a right grab on your wrist-
"w-wait!" he huffs out- "i-i've never done this before!"
you want to say your surprised but your not-you could tell he was a virgin when you saw his reaction to you in those shorts a couple weeks ago-you could tell by how red he went in the face when u started playing footsies earlier- he's been screaming virgin the entire time, you can't help that it only makes you want him more.
"i know-" you cut yourself off with a moan as you lower yourself onto him- he's so thick- he stretches you out perfectly as the slight pain quickly turns to pleasure.
he's gawking beneath you- mouth wide as a chain of noises- moans mixed with whimpers leaves his mouth- he's loud. you shut him up with a kiss-worried about something hearing him if they walk by your room-
you move yourself up and down him, his head following yours to move with you to not break the kiss- he's groaning into your mouth- unable to stop the noises of pleasure slipping out of him.
your fully riding him now- setting a fast pace as you bounce yourself up and down- rolling on him as he hits that sweet spot in your pussy-
he's leaking so much precum that it forms a ring at the bottom of his dick- you thank your birth control for allowing you to safely take him raw.
he's blabbering nonsense into your mouth- "f-fuck mghh you f-feel so good i c-can't" you kiss him again- pushing your tongue roughly into his mouth-
he never imagined his first time being like this- he imagined shitty missionary with some random girl at some college party- he believes he must be the luckiest guy in the world to have you on top of him-grinding down on him.
"f-fuck baby your cocks so good-fillin' me up so good-" he whines at your praise as he feels yet another knot in his stomach- he's going to cum again- he's going to cum into your pussy-
"s-stop m' gna cum!" he makes no effort to move you off- secretly hoping you'll get caught in the moment and allow him to stay inside-
"it's okay- m' protected just cum-" you can still sense his hesitation- you ride him even faster- desperately attempting to force a third orgasm out of the boy-
"cmon baby it's okay- cum in me zuku- cum in my pussy-*
that's all it takes- he lets out a loud whine and you catch his lips in yours to try and silence him-
you ride though his high- not slowing down as you case your own realise- he's crying under you, shaking at the overstimulation
"¡ cant! it h-hurts!" tears are spilling as you ignore his pleas- "hold on for me baby oh f-fuck m' so close" he's sobbing under you now, hands grabbing your waist so hard it hurts- gripping you for dear life.
"you can take it zuku- know you can-" the poor boy is twitching his hips upwards, kisses getting sloppier and the volume of his whimpering increasing. you think he looks prettiest like this.
you feel your orgasm approaching as your pace gets sloppier- izuku is a mess under you, a mix of cum and your slick feeling heavy at the base of his cock- he can't even speak, his mouth as agape as he watches you in a trance.
you cum with a moan- "oh-oh m' cumming-" you crash down onto him, riding out your high as you feel his thighs tense up- feeling even more cum leak from his tip filling you up even more- you dip your head into his neck as you recover.
you stay there for a second- taking in what just happened- izuku is panting under you, little sobs escaping his lips everytime you move even a little, you slowly remove yourself from him and plant a small peck to his cheek-
"did so good for me zuku- gna clean u up okay? gotta head back downstairs soon."
all he can do is stare at you in awe- he's completely fucked out, he has this dazed look in his eyes that you love.
you clean yourselfs up and let izuku take his time calming down- "can't believe i was your first-" your teasing him again- the never ending blush on his face gets deeper-
"m' sorry i didn't do much-" he's immediately self conscious- he came three- no four times and he feels bad for hardly being able to hold on long enough for you to come too.
"shhh sh it's okay baby" you smile at him as the nickname rolls of your tounge. "next time kay'?" his eyes widen. next time?? what could he possibly have done to make you want to see him again?
"you were perfect for me zuku- so good." you take his hand in yours as he looks away from you- clearly embarrassed by your praise. you don't drop his hand as you lead him back into the living room where your family's now sit- mitsuki has a bottle of wine open, thankful that it means your parents wont notice your hand linked with the green haired boys.
katsuki notices though- he noticed it the second you walk though the door- he also can't help but notice the flushed look on his childhoods friends face and you drag him to sit down next to you. hand not wandering from him.
he shoots you a suspicious look as he watches midoriya sit extremely close to you- you catch his eyes and shug your shoulders at him- you'll explain another time- maybe.
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part2
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rebelfell · 5 months ago
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Evidently never gonna be done with thoughts of these two... 18+, MDNI 4.8k
older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson
cw: unprotected piv, finishing inside
cont'd from here, index here
The ride back to the house is silent.
No music playing. No words being said. Just the rumble of his van’s engine and the spin of its tires making the floor vibrate underneath your feet. Eddie’s hands keep tensing, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosening as he navigates the deserted, winding backroads.
The trip that seemed to take only minutes on the way now stretches on interminably. Like when you wake up from a dream and the elasticized time snaps abruptly back in place and you realize your alarm has been going off for over an hour and now you’re definitely late for work.
You swallow thickly as you stare out the window at the blur of trees whipping past, your fingers twisting in your lap as you pick at the skin around your thumbnail. You rack your brain for some words, any words, that might be helpful. That might somehow fix this mess you’ve made.
But there isn’t a lot left to say after the lake.
Eddie, don���t, you can’t say stuff like that.
Why not? It’s the truth, it’s how I feel, I—
Because this can’t go anywhere! I’m leaving, I’m going back to—
Then I’ll leave too! I’ll go with you, I’ll go wherever you go, I just want to be with you.
Stop it, you don’t know what you’re saying.
He tries to tell you he does mean it. He means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his whole life. He doesn’t care about Hawkins or his stupid community college classes or his handful of odd jobs he could do literally anywhere. He’ll pick up and move. He’ll work. He’ll take care of you.
He’ll do anything so long as this doesn’t end.
What about Steve?
You stare at him plainly, certain you’ve delivered a death blow. And his face does flicker, if only for a moment, as the guilt that’s been festering in his gut for months finally shows through. And even as he shakes his head as determinately as he can, the waver in his voice is unmistakable.
I’ll…I’ll explain it to him.
Explain what? That we fucked on every available surface in his house?
Eddie shrank at your harsh words, not ready for the anger that flashed in your eyes, nor the vitriol that rose in your voice when you so crassly described the best summer of his life.
No! Well…yeah, but—I don’t know, I’ll figure it out!
Okay, and then what? We date? You practically spat the word out. Show up for Christmas dinner at your best friend’s house? Sit across the table from him as his aunt’s…as my…
You can’t even say the word “boyfriend”—it feels so juvenile, so high-school.
The argument drags on until the deep, brilliant midnight blue sky begins to tinge gray with the arrival of a cold and sickly dawn. Eddie probably would have kept going until the sun rose, until it hung in the middle of the sky, until it had set and come back up all over again. But you told him as calmly as you could that you had to go back. 
It was time.
His van practically crawls to a stop in the driveway, the screech of his brakes mixing with the soft tweets of birds just beginning to stir. He shifts it into park and reaches up to grab the keys and cut the ignition, but you lay your hand on top of his to stop him.
“I don’t think you should stay,” you tell him, forcing back the wobble in your voice.
And the way he looks at you when you say it makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed. His face crumples, his brow pinching together, his mouth contorted in an ugly shape more snarl than frown.
“Don’t do this…” he says, gritting out the words through a clenched jaw. “Please.”
And it’s not the sort of begging you’re used to hearing out of him. It’s not an eager plea for you to kiss him or touch him, nor a cheeky request to fuck you somewhere you could get caught. This is real begging. It’s him clawing at you from behind a chain link fence, a lost puppy who wants only for you to take him home from the pound.
Not asking for anything but you.
“Eddie, we can’t—”
He reaches out for you, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, his touch somehow soft and tender despite the rigid tension you can see in his arms, in his back, in his shoulders.
“We can do anything we want,” he whispers.
His breath is warm on your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He really believes it. And god do you want to believe it too. But…
“I’m sorry.”
Tears brim along your lashline as you wedge your fingers under his to wrench them from your face, rushing to get out of the van before he can stop you. Your footsteps thud on the concrete as you retreat inside the house and lean on the door in the foyer until you hear him backing down the driveway and the glow of his headlights has disappeared completely from view.
You drift back upstairs, heading for your sister’s room that has lain untouched since they left. Past all the places you and he defiled this summer. Past your bed with its rumpled sheets that still smell of Camels and cologne. Past the guest room where Eddie barely slept, lying awake at night thinking of you instead. Past the answering machine and its flashing red light that signals a new message has been left, one you’ll listen to in the morning with bleary bloodshot eyes.
It’s your sister letting you know they’ve changed their flight. They’ll be home tomorrow.
Which is now today.
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Having John and Viv back in the house is an adjustment.
Upon playing their message, you and Steve did a sweep of every room trying to get it back up to his mother’s impeccable standards you’d let slide since your arrival…in more ways than one.
You don’t see much of Steve’s father, which feels normal because you never do. Even after all the deals he closed this summer, he somehow only has to work more now that he’s home. Most mornings, he’s up and headed to the office before the rest of the world has hit the first snooze on their alarms. And some nights he stays until long after the rest of the house has gone to bed.
It gives you and your sister lots of time to talk. Well, it gives her time to talk. And the one thing she simply can’t seem to stop talking about is how incredible the yard looks.
She keeps looking out the windows and sighing wistfully as she stares at the haven Eddie has created. She starts to take her morning coffee, her afternoon tea, her evening glass of port out on the patio just to marvel at the perennials just beginning to flower. She’s beyond thrilled.
And you’re…fine. At least you can pretend like you are. Most days.
It’s easy to slip back into the state of numbness that was your home base after everything with your ex. But with him, you had just felt mad. There was no guilt or remorse eating away at your insides. No bottomless pit of doubt in your stomach, no needling thoughts of regret gnawing at you constantly. No part of you left wondering if you’d made a terrible mistake.
Or rather, another one.
What’s really not helping is Viv going out of her way to berate you about how you’re going about this all wrong. She’s quick to scold you for moping around the house, asking if this is what you’ve done all summer. She’s adamant you should be getting back out there—back on the bike or the horse or whatever other tired ass cliche you preferred.
It’s during one of these rants that the phone rings and mercifully cuts her off. Steve is calling. He left his lunch at home and he’s wondering if someone can bring it to him. Vivian grins.
“Your aunt would love to. She was just saying she needed to get out of the house.”
And she’s not wrong, even if it’s her and not the house you need a break from.
But as you make the turn into Family Video’s lot, your stomach drops at the sight of the brown and white van parked out front. Eddie’s long frame leans on the hood, unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, his hands resting on the hips of a girl he’s got pressed up against him, his fingers toying with the frilled hem of a baby pink top that flashes the bare skin of her lower back.
Your neck is as stiff as death as you walk past, keeping your eyes glued to the door in front of you, trying to ignore the breathy laugh that floats on the air and punctures your brain. You yank on the handle a little too hard, the silver bell overhead even louder in your already ringing ears.
Steve lets out a loud groan of relief when he sees you, or rather when he sees his lunch, and he tears into it right there on the sales floor. He’s the only one on today and the store is deserted— everyone likely at the pool or out enjoying the last few weeks of freedom and warm weather.
Or going for a gold medal in tonsil hockey.
You fold your arms across your chest and lean on the counter, sneaking a glance over your shoulder you know you’ll regret. Most of the display going on outside is obscured by the decals and posters on the windows, but you can still see plenty.
Eddie’s head dips to whisper something in that girl’s ear and you feel about as tall as the crumbs scattering from Steve’s sandwich.
As he chews, your nephew’s gaze follows yours out the window. His brows raise as Eddie grins and he starts to run his hands down the curve of her spine, slipping them snugly into the back pockets of her jeans. Unable to see the grimace on your face, Steve just nods approvingly.
“About time,” he sighs as he rips off another bite. “He’s been like…catatonic lately.”
The sourness in your stomach only curdles further until you mutter out a goodbye to Steve and turn to make your escape. But the very moment that you do, that girl is taking Eddie by the hand and pulling him along behind her into the store. You and she nearly collide at the door, close enough you can smell the sickly sweet peach lip gloss she’s wearing.
“Oh! Sorry, ma’am,” she says, blithely smiling as she floats over to the new releases.
Behind her, Eddie stands staunchly in the doorway. He takes up the entire exit, his dark clothes seemingly absorbing all the light in the room as you lift your chin to look him in the eye.
You expect to find contempt. Something callous and unfeeling. More than merely smug, you’re sure he will be dripping with arrogance and condescension. Because he’s got every right to be, doesn’t he? You really think I cared about you? Don’t you see how fast I can replace you?
But when you do look at him, there is only pain etched into his features. He holds your gaze for no more than a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. You think that all of civilization could be crumbling into ruin around you and you would never know because you can’t stand to tear your eyes away from his. And you don’t, until he drops his head and turns sideways to let you pass.
His cologne stings in your nostrils as you do, and your arm brushes the edge of his denim vest. And you don’t make it but a block away before you have to pull off onto a side street and cry.
For the next two weeks, the sky is permanently gray.
Dark and mottled clouds roll in sometime that evening and suddenly even the smallest sliver of sunshine becomes as precious as real gold. Their coverage is dense and the air becomes thick and muggy with humidity that only gets more oppressive, yet never gets any closer to breaking.
Every day, the house seems to get smaller. It’s like you’re a rat in a maze and the scientists who are studying you keep removing portions of it until you’ve been boxed in with no escape. But the idea of going out, the thought of running into Eddie again, is too much for you to bear the risk.
The only thing that brings you any sort of solace is that the school year will start soon and you’ll have work to distract you again. Truthfully, the only reason you have yet to extract yourself from Hawkins is because your new housing—a little craftsman you’re going to rent from the head of your department at the university—won’t be ready for you to move in until the end of August.
But the looming threat of your departure somehow only encourages Vivian.
You should have known something was up the moment she said she wanted to have a “family dinner” to celebrate your last night. You should have known when you came into your room and found a bag from her favorite department store sitting on your bed containing a sundress far too floral for your taste. It might as well have had a post-it on it that said “Wear Me” like your mother used to put on your school clothes when she laid them out for you in the morning.
If you were smart, you might have thrown it out the window. Or maybe even climbed through it yourself and scaled down the trellis to make a run for it. Instead, you put it on. And your feet are like lead on the steps as you come down to find your sister bustling around the dining room.
Your brow furrows as you count four place settings. “I thought Steve had a date,” you say.
“He does,” she hums, shooting you a sidelong glance. “And so do you.”
“Viv, no. Please don’t do this—”
“I haven’t done anything!”
She throws her hands up and smiles, but all the faux innocence in the world can’t disguise that glint of mischief in her eyes. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by the doorbell.
“That must be him,” she titters, flapping a napkin behind you to shoo you into the foyer. “Go on, now, don’t keep him waiting!”
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Eddie parks his van down the street from Steve’s house, under the cover of some tree branches that hang low over the road. He smokes two cigarettes down to the filters and debates on a third as he tries to summon the courage to get out of the car. Every part of his body seems to be at odds with him, unwilling to settle until he finally kicks open the door and gets out.
His feet carry him forward in long, determined strides but they falter when he sees a car he isn’t expecting sitting in the driveway. It’s a cruiser. One Eddie found himself pulled over by on more than a few occasions, being scrutinized by the giant hulking man now ringing the doorbell.
Hopper.
He’s not in uniform. In fact, he’s more dressed up than Eddie has ever seen him, all trussed up in a sport coat over a button down that he’s actually buttoned. Shit, is his shirttail tucked in?
“Munson?” he says in surprise. “What brings you here?”
But before Eddie can answer, the door is opening and it's you on the other side. Eyes widening when they land on him and then blinking furiously when you realize Hopper is there as well.
“Um…hi.”
It’s hard to say who looks more uncomfortable as you step aside so Hopper can come in and you exchange some stilted pleasantries. You remember him from high-school and you aren’t all that surprised the town’s terminal bachelor is the one your sister has decided to foist upon you.
What is surprising is that Eddie is here. And his eyes are searing into you, while you have yet to fully acknowledge him. In all honesty, you're not entirely convinced he isn’t a hallucination. Only when Viv appears and glides into the chaos like a parade float do you actually believe it.
“I thought that was you, Chief. So glad you could make it—Oh, Eddie!” 
Her eyes fall on the boy still hovering in the doorway, her hand coming up to her chest. 
“I’m so sorry, dear, but Steve’s already left for his date. Wait right here, though, I have some money for you for all that work you did.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
Eddie takes a hurried step forward, his white sneakers finally breaching the threshold. Vivian is already gone, though, rushing up the stairs. Leaving you alone. With both of them.
“Hey…Hop. John’s in the den, if you want a drink,” you tell him, pointing the way.
With a terse nod and a gruff sound you presume is him answering in the affirmative, Hopper heads down the hall and leaves you and Eddie to your uncomfortable hovering. He leans on the narrow table in the entryway, staring at his own hand as he traces the edge of the wood with his finger, the rest of his hand closed in a fist. He won’t look at you now. Won’t lift his chin an inch.
“What are you doing here?” you whisper.
Eddie just shrugs, staring now at his sneakers he’s scuffing against the oriental rug under his feet. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. His chest rises with the breath he draws, but he swallows his non-response when he hears Vivian at the top of the stairs.
“Here you go, dear,” she says, handing over the envelope full of cash with his name written on it that’s been sitting on her bureau for weeks now.
His head shakes. “You really don’t have to—”
“Nonsense! You did such beautiful work out there, it was so wonderful to come home to. You ought to think about going into landscaping.”
Vivian just about forces the envelope into his hands and he mutters out a thank you, tapping his fingers on it and making furtive glances towards the door as she whirls around to you.
“You two met, right?” she asks. “He must have been here all the time working.”
“Y-yeah, yes, we—”
“Thank you,” Eddie says, stuffing the money into his back pocket and reaching for the doorknob in one motion. Still not looking you in the eye. “I’ll, um…I’m sorry to disturb you…”
He goes to leave, one foot already out the door when she suddenly stops and looks back over his shoulder. You feel your breath catch, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours.
“Have a good night,” he says quietly. And then he’s gone.
The door doesn’t slam. He doesn’t even shut it particularly hard. Still, you can’t help but flinch as it closes soundly behind him. There’s something so final about it, but it doesn’t feel like enough after everything that’s happened—it doesn’t feel right for it to end with something so hollow.
Vivian just smiles and loops her arm with yours.
“Ready to go find the boys?”
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You walk Hopper to the door after dinner, more or less coerced into it by your sister.
There’s a slight scuffle as you try and figure out how to say goodnight to one another. He winds up reaching out a hand as big as a bear’s paw and clumsily pats your shoulder, almost like he is one, when he seemingly can’t decide between hugging you or shaking your hand. 
Chuckling through it the best you can, you keep the same fake smile you’ve worn all night firmly plastered in place until the door closes with him on the other side. And you stand there for a minute, not too keen on going back in the kitchen for your impending cross-examination.
But then your eyes land on the vase sitting on the table in the entryway. More specifically, on the folded piece of paper tucked behind it with only a ripped edge peeking out. 
You reach for it, flashing back to a ringed finger tracing the edge of that table, fist clenched around something, and your hands shake as you unfold it to read Eddie’s note scrawled inside.
I’m parked down the street.
It’s just starting to rain as you hurry down the driveway, skulking through shadows as you walk along the quiet street. In the distance, you can hear the rumble of the approaching storm as fat raindrops hit the top of your head and slide down your scalp through the forest of your roots.
A pitch black sky overhead matches the road under your feet, scantly lit by a lone streetlight. The wind picks up as you look around for Eddie’s van and just when you’re starting to think he must have left already, you spot him on the side of the road under the cover of some trees.
At first all you can see is the glowing orange dot at the end of his cigarette, but his face steadily comes into view as you approach the driver’s side door. A blatant attempt to avoid what you know will happen if you climb in the passenger seat.
The rain starts to fall a little harder as he rolls his window down. It soaks the ground at your feet, clouds of steam rising from the pavement. The air is thick and heavy, like standing in a bowl of soup. It has your shoulders sagging with the weight and your lungs struggling to draw breath.
At least that’s what you let yourself believe.
“How was your date?” Eddie asks with a bitter laugh that does little to disguise his disgust. You shake your head, pushing back a wet piece of hair clinging to your cheek.
“It wasn’t a…It was just dinner.”
The hurt in your voice makes his eyes round and soften, cheeks hollowing as he takes a long drag. Seemingly breathing in as deeply as he can to steady his own frayed nerves.
“I was afraid you might have left already,” he says.
“No,” you tell him, eyes falling to your feet. “Not ‘til tomorrow.”
He nods.
“I, uh—I know I shouldn’t just show up like this. But I wanted to tell you…” His jaw is clenched, bottom lip shaking almost imperceptibly, corners of his mouth turning downwards as he stubs out his smoke. “I need you to know that I don’t regret it. Any of it.”
He lifts his gaze to meet yours on the last words, brown eyes like twin black holes that hold all the mysteries of the universe. There’s a terrifying vastness to them, a depth you’ve only barely scratched the surface of. Your lips press together and you pinch your eyes shut as your hand creeps up to rest on the door, fingers curling around it as raindrops splash on the interior.
The thunder only gets louder as the storm nears, the rain now falling in a rapid patter. Here it is, you tell yourself. This is what you knew was coming. This is where you knew you’d end up.
“I don’t regret it either,” you say, raising your voice over the sound of the rain, forcing down the tremble in it. “And I…I’ll never forget it.”
You can only hold his gaze for a second before you have to look away. And as you do, you give the door a tight squeeze, wishing it was his hand instead.
“Bye, Eddie.”
Your feet carry you away like you’re on autopilot.
You’re barely conscious of the steps you take or the direction you head in as the rain ramps up to a downpour and fully soaks through your clothes. Your head is spinning and foggy, unable to register much of anything until one sound breaks through—the creak of the van door swinging open and slamming shut, followed by the splashing of water under sneakers.
The solid weight of his hand on your shoulder makes you start as he turns you towards him, the rain falling harder and the wind blowing faster all around. The trees overhead whip back and forth in a frenzy, their branches dipping low and their leaves swirling wildly in the air.
“Eddie, someone could see—”
He wraps his hands around your wrists to wrench you closer, pulling you into his body, both of your faces splattered with rain, barely able to see anything beyond each other.
“Let them,” he breathes out before his lips slam into yours.
The sound of the storm is only magnified inside of Eddie’s van, every drop of rain on the metal roof practically deafening as you climb through the rear and your bodies slide against the floor. The carpet inside is rough and scratchy, the fibers imbedded with decades worth of dirt and crumbs and tobacco and weed particles, but you can’t find the will within you to care.
All you can think about, all you can focus on, is him.
His kiss is harsh and punishing, lips mashing rough against yours, teeth clacking as he devours you. Aggressive and bruising in a way that, deep down, you know you deserve. 
Your wet clothes cleave to your bodies as you struggle to drag them off, steadfast in their refusal despite your feverish attempts. Eddie’s jeans and boxers only make it to the middle of his thighs before he’s pushing inside of you and a strangled moan releases from his throat.
The stretch makes you writhe, the stinging pain quickly becoming an afterthought as your need for him overrides everything else. You fist his wet shirt in your hands, rivulets of water trickling down your forearms as you clutch it tight to pull his body as close to yours as it can get.
Adrenaline races in your veins as he begins to thrust and you realize it’s the first time he’s taken you bare, the velvet of his skin dragging against your walls with nothing to separate you.
He fucks you fast and hard, your legs kicking up to wrap around his waist, your ass burning from the friction, your muscles tightening and tensing with every move. His whole body is quaking as he drives himself inside, the van rocking, teetering like it’s about to tip over the edge of a cliff.
He fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll get to, because he’s pretty sure it will be.
“Let me come in you,” he groans in your ear, more command than request. “Want to fill you up, want you to feel every…fucking…drop…”
The words are grunted out in time with his thrusts, his hips pushing deeper with every heaving breath, his cock twitching inside you as your walls pulse and tighten around him.
“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god!”
Your fingers weave into his wet curls, twisting them in your grasp at the root, tugging his head up and holding him there so you can stare into his eyes, your own vision strained in the dark.
Lightning flashes through the windshield, followed instantly by a clap of thunder. So close it could have struck right outside. For an instant, the van is illuminated and you see his face fully—eyes wide and wild, hair half-dried in damp coils, tattoos stark against pale skin that glows white.
It only lasts a second, but it shows you everything you need to see.
“Come, Eddie,” you gasp as the lightning dissipates and the whole van rattles from the force. “Want you to come for me, come in me—”
And he does. As fast and hard as the lightning strike, Eddie’s cock bursts with rope after rope of his release spurting inside of you, your center tingling as the feeling of it spreads throughout your body. The noise he makes in your ear is ungodly. It pours out from deep in his throat, guttural and resonant as the echoing claps of thunder. He drops all of his weight onto you, shaking from the force of his orgasm as you’re flattened between him and the floor.
“It’s okay,” you coo softly, your fingers loosening your grip on his hair to stroke it instead, nails dragging soft and slow against his scalp.
He shivers at your gentle and soothing touch, inhaling shaky breaths of you with his face pressed to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Safe and dark and warm.
“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking in a dry sob as his tears slide off his cheeks to mix with the rainwater and sweat on your skin. Your throat clenches as you swallow, still trying to force down the words that have sat heavy in the center of your chest for weeks now, fighting to be said.
Finally, finally, finally, they make it out.
“I love you too.”
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 7 days ago
Text
gimme more
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pairing: joel x reader x tommy
tags/cws: sex pollen (reader is infected by it), breeding kink
summary: joel is just being a good friend by helping reader out, and tommy is just being a good brother by tag-teaming
a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
this is kind of theoretically set in jackson (AU where nothing bad happens lol), but we're going to pretend that the writer has finished tlou2 (and has not been caught up in playing silent hill) and is not just guessing about the details of jackson and such
wc: 2.2k
tags: @vaaaaaiolet @leonfucker3000 @withonly-sweetheart
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You've experienced your fair share of unthinkable, inexplicable things since the outbreak began. Out of necessity, you've become familiar with the cordyceps — what it looks like, how it spreads, what the cure is (a bullet to the head). Whatever you just inhaled is not the cordyceps virus, but you feel zero relief in knowing that. You have no idea what this is and what it's going to do to you.
Joel calls out to you from above.
"Don't come down here," you yell back. "I think something's wrong."
It's the best way you can explain it.
"Then get your ass up here!" He's pissed, he's scared.
You shouldn't have been so reckless. You were stupid to think you'd find anything good in that abandoned bunker. If there was once something worth your excursion, it's long gone. Like everywhere else, it's been looted.
When Joel reaches out to help you pull yourself above ground, you can't help but notice how big his hands are, how strong he is, the way his arms flex when he pulls you up to relative safety.
"What happened down there?"
"I don't know, but I feel… weird. Something's not right with me."
"You didn't get bit did you?"
"No, it's not that. Definitely not. It's something different. When I went down there, it was like I set off some sort of alarm system, except it didn't make any noise, it just sprayed out some sort of blue smoke."
"And you inhaled it?"
"I didn't mean to."
The route back is short, but it's torture – your whole body feels like its been set on fire, and you want to keel over in pain.
"Do you need me to carry you?" Joel asks.
"No, I'm fine." You're not fine. You're out of breath, dizzy, aching for something.
Joel ignores your lies and picks you up. The minute he touches you, you know exactly what your body wants — him. You whimper at his touch — his hands aren't anywhere they shouldn't be, but your whole body feels sensitive.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No, not really… I don't know."
"Why are you whining then? Either you're hurt or you're on the edge of a fuckin' orgasm."
He laughs, but you don't.
"…Both," you admit.
He looks at his hands, making sure he's not touching you inappropriately.
"I don't understand. I'm not touching you down there, and you're not touching yourself. You got vibrating panties or somethin'?"
"I wish."
He stops. Then, in a whisper despite the fact that you're alone, asks, "Do you think it's whatever you inhaled?"
"Yeah."
"Let's hurry down to the infirmary then."
"No. There's nothing they can do for me."
"Don't say that. I'm sure it's nothin' and they'll be able to fix you up just fine."
"No, they can't. I know what I need. I can feel it."
Or at least, you hope it's what you need. You'd rather die than walk into a clinic and tell the nurse that you're so horny you think you're about to, well, die. You've made your bed and you're ready to lie in it — so long as Joel is there too.
He changes course slightly, and walks towards his house. Not much needs to be said. The look of sheer desperation in your eyes is enough. Has he dreamt about fucking you before? Maybe, but that's not why he agrees to do it. Above all else, Joel cares about you.
You don't make it to his bedroom, only to the living room couch. The curtains are drawn and Joel lives alone, so it makes little difference (minus the back pain that you'll inevitably endure from a couch rendezvous).
It's not your first time having sex, and you know it's not Joel's either, but it's the first time you've ever done this together. See, in your nighttime fantasies, he comes to you — on you, in you, for you — quite often, but in the real world, you're just close friends. The rumors that circulate are (unfortunately) not true: you're not fucking Joel. Or, you weren't. Now, you are. Now, you're tearing off your clothes because holy fuck it's hotter than it should be in April. You're feeling feverish as you help Joel strip (while he takes a minute to be awestruck by your bare body).
You're fiddling helplessly with his belt buckle like it's a brand new contraption to your hazy eyes.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get you ready first? Could go down on you…"
If someone put a gun to your head and asked you if you'd ever turn down Joel Miller offering to go down on you, you'd be dead. But despite how much you crave his mouth on your skin, you swear this thing might kill you if you wait any longer.
"I need you," is all you can muster.
"Lemme see if I can find a—"
He stands up, presumably to get a condom, but you grab him by the wrist.
"I need you," you say with more force this time.
It takes a mere glimpse of his cock — hard, throbbing in anticipation — to know that he needs you too.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he says when his hand reaches your glistening slit.
You let out a pathetic whimper. You're no longer in control. Whatever this toxin is, it's taken over. It needs Joel, you need Joel, it needs you to need Joel (more than you did already).
"I know, baby, I know," he soothes you as he steadies himself above you.
He slides into you with ease, buries himself to the hilt and then stops. He looks up to the ceiling, like he's about to speak to God, but all that leaves his mouth is a single word, "fuck", it comes out harsh, through gritted teeth, yet ultimately, it's his surrender.
His surrender to your needs, to your cunt that grips him like a vise and soaks him like a leaky faucet. Both of his hands hold your hips steady so he can pound into you as you beg for him to go harder, and he swears he hasn't fucked anyone like this in the last 20 years. Honestly, he's shocked his knees can handle it. He ought to have you ride him if you're so intent on controlling the pace, but then again, he doesn't trust your impulses.
Not only is he going to embarrass himself if he cums quickly, but he'll also leave you hanging. One hand moves to cover your mouth because he can't have you screaming. It takes everything in him to stifle you when you're moaning his name.
It's something between a warning and an apology. "I'm sorry, baby—I'm gonna cum." Naturally, he attempts to pull out since he's not wearing a condom, but you lock your legs around his hips and rip his hand from your mouth so you can tell him the three most important words right now, "Don't. Pull. Out."
"I don't wanna get you pregnant—"
"I want you to."
It all makes sense. "Is that what it wants?" His curiosity is piqued and the distraction of solving this puzzle keeps his orgasm at bay. "It wants me to… breed you? It's making you want me to get you pregnant?"
"Yes," you say a bit too enthusiastically. "Joel, please, I need you to."
"Need me to what?" He knows exactly what, and you can see that in the slight upward curve of his lips.
You groan in frustration — would he really be so cruel as to make you beg in a moment of crisis? Maybe.
"I need to hear you say it."
Joel could easily fill you to the brim right now, he needs to hear you beg because he'll need the memory later when he's alone, when he thinks about you. If you make it out of this situation, that is. But, fuck, if you're right, and all he really has to do is get you pregnant, there shouldn't be any problem.
"I need you to put a baby in me," you say, and while your body is still running wild in its starvation, embarrassment flashes across your face.
When Joel agrees, your orgasm overtakes you -- simply the thought is enough to make you gush all over his furniture. You thought you'd never reach your peak and be forced to teeter on the edge for the rest of your life. You hold him as close as you possibly can, forcing him deeper inside you with your legs around his hips and your arms around his back, digging your nails into his skin. He returns the sting with a bite to your neck, muffling a groan that threatens to escape him.
You're writhing against the pleasure, the overstimulation and the need for more mixing together, and Joel, melting in your arms, soothes you as best he can. His words are filthy and sweet all at once.
"It's okay, baby. I'm gonna put a baby in you, gonna get you knocked up. Don't gotta worry 'bout a thing."
When his grunts turn breathy, barely short of whimpers, you realize that he's turned on by this too. It's a blessing and a curse — his pride grapples with his arousal, fighting to keep his orgasm at bay but it's in vain. He cums inside you, and it feels like he's the one dying, and ascending to heaven (a place he never believed he'd step foot in).
You try to keep him inside you, but he insists that he has to pull out at some point.
Joel's about to put his pants on when the door swings open. At first you're afraid it's Ellie, and even though she's an adult, she's practically Joel's daughter – she's the last person who would want to see this. Who else has a key to Joel's house? you think. He's not giving them out to just anyone, even you don't have one (and you could be carrying his child).
Tommy, you realize, just as his voice echoes through the hall, calling for Joel.
"Hold on," Joel yells back, much louder than he needs to, considering the fact that there's only one wall between your naked body and an unsuspecting visitor.
Footsteps approach, and Joel gets the word "wait" halfway out of his mouth before Tommy enters the room. You all share a moment of silence before he apologizes, and excuses himself.
As he's walking towards the door, you try to pull Joel back in, telling him how badly you need him.
But he has another idea. Unconventional at best, but it's not like you're in an everyday situation anyway.
"Tommy," he says, stopping him before he leaves. "Will you do me — us — a huge favor?"
"Yeah, I won't tell anyone. Don't worry about it," he says, preemptively.
"No, no. A different favor." He peeks his head into the living room to see your miserable, desperate state.
"What's going on?"
Joel explains everything as best he can in as little time as possible. You admit, with less shame than you would otherwise, that you need someone to fuck you, and if Joel has to wait a bit to recover, it's a good thing he has a brother.
"You're sure about this?" Tommy asks.
Once you swear on your life that you are absolutely positive about this, he gives in, allows himself to indulge because ultimately, Tommy wants this too. Maybe their shared DNA influences their shared kinks, or maybe you're an attractive woman, splayed out on the couch naked and begging to be fucked.
Tommy makes quick work of his clothes, discarding them on the floor — he can sense your eagerness to have him inside you, almost as intense as his own desire.
It's not like you needed any lubricant anyway, but Joel left you even slicker than before, so Tommy slides inside you with greater ease despite being nearly as big as his brother. He's quick to lift your legs to gain greater leverage so he can up the pace of his thrusts.
You moans, despite how loud they are, do not cover up the wet sounds of Tommy fucking you.
"Are you sure you want me to cum inside you?"
"Yes, please, need you to get me pregnant," you say, throwing him for a loop. Whoops, you must've forgotten to mention that part.
He looks at you, then at Joel, in disbelief, assuming this is some sort of trick, a test, a gift — it doesn't really matter because he's too far gone to hold back.
"Fuck, I'll knock you up if that's what you really want, baby."
All you can say is "please".
"Wonder whose baby it'll be," he says, steady thrusts gaining momentum.
If he's toying with you, it's working, strange as it might be, the concept is a turn-on. It's Schrodinger's baby. You cannot be sure whose baby you're carrying -- if there is one at all -- so you can imagine it as both Joel's and Tommy's at once.
You look at Tommy, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, mind blanking. Surely, he's not having a scientific breakthrough, but maybe a transcendental experience.
Then, you look at Joel, who holds the awe of a full auditorium in his eyes, but there will be no standing ovation for your performance because he's using all of his strength to hold himself back from rushing the metaphorical stage, and one hand is busy palming his aching cock through his jeans to subdue that urge.
Tommy takes your chin, and with a sudden sternness, says, "Look at me when I cum inside you. Not him. He's not fucking you."
But when your eyes meet his, he's not the only one approaching his peak – you are going over the edge with him. You swear you might've blacked out because Tommy is already pulling out of you when you fully regain consciousness.
Once you get your bearings straight you realize something: you feel a lot better.
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sundaynightlive · 1 year ago
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Soft (Steddie + Platonic Stobin)
Hey Steve?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I say something? And can you promise not to get mad at me?”
Steve looks over at her curiously. He can hardly imagine what she could say that would really upset him, or why she’d feel the need to preface anything she had on her mind with a question like that. Usually, she’s all gung-ho about pissing him off—it’s just how they are, constantly bickering like an old married couple. Steve really doesn’t blame anyone for thinking they’re together—they sure act like it, in a roundabout sort of way.
“Sure.”
“Say you promise.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, Rob, I’m not gonna—”
“Say you promise.”
That actually slightly unnerves him. He keeps his eyebrows raised, but relents.
“Alright, I promise.” She shifts in her seat, glances up at Eddie and the kids on stage, all chattering about something he doesn’t understand—attack rolls? Natural 20s? Owlbears?
“He makes you soft,” she says. Steve follows her gaze.
Oh. She noticed.
Steve tends to be oblivious, but he had noticed this, mostly because it was so… new. Irregular. Confusing. Around Eddie he just… softens. That’s about the best way to describe it—he’s glad Robin said so, because now he can put a name to the feeling. His brain seems to stop its mile-a-minute, mamma-bear rampage and just… quiet. He can’t put a finger on why—well he can, but it’s… a lot. He’s spent many a night staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern whether he really is romantically attracted to Eddie, or if he’s projecting. Maybe he’s been alone so long he just can’t tell anymore. Maybe his and Nancy’s little dance around each other is just confusing to the point of insanity.
But Robin noticed. And they should talk.
“Can we move back a few rows?”
“Sure.”
They stand and none of the kids nor Eddie take notice. Their voices are getting progressively louder, and Ed is perched in his chair like he could spring up on to the table at any moment, hands motioning excitedly in all sorts of ways. He talks with his hands, just like Nance and Robin.
“Are you mad?”
“No,” Steve says as they take seats in the mid-section, a little farther towards the back of the auditorium. He settles in, both to the seat and his own uncomfortability, not sure how to start the things he needs to say. He has questions, answers, concerns—but where to begin?
The beginning, probably.
“Do you remember that night the three of us were hanging and then Vickie came and picked you up and I told you I left right after?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t.”
He looks over to make eye-contact with her, and finds just Rob, gazing at him. A little curiosity, a little surprise at his blatant lie—but he hadn’t known how to talk to her about it. Or how to explain himself. He had thought it easier just to hide that he and Eddie could ever get along without her, because she felt like an essential intermediary. A reason that it isn’t what it actually is.
He can’t really explain himself. He doesn’t really get why he lied, either.
“Liar,” Rob accuses, but there’s no bite.
“I stayed,” Steve confirms, breaking their shared gaze to look back out toward Ed. He’s got this feeling in his guts like he’s about to get into trouble, like he’s broken one of his mom’s nice antiques and is about to lose his swimming pool privileges—
“We talked for the entire night. Until six in the morning. And then I went home, and I wanted to call him. And I… I’ve been having these thoughts like maybe I like him? And I don’t get it because—” Robin takes his hand “—I like girls, you know? I know I do, you know I do—”
“Can I interrupt? Just a two second thought.” Steve nods, “Some people like boys and girls, it’s called being bisexual. I just want you to have that in mind for the rest of this conversation.” Steve blinks at her. Nods slowly.
Maybe he should’ve gone to her sooner.
Not maybe. Definitely.
“Okay… right. So… I’m fucking stupid,” Steve breathes. Robin shakes her head vigorously, adding a second hand to the mix.
“No no no,” she insists quickly, “But I want you to—“
“No, I like him,” Steve realizes, a million—maybe a billion—thoughts and feelings invading him all at once. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, relief, anxiety—he can’t even latch on to one of those. He doesn't know how to feel or think or anything except for this stark, pervasive understanding— “Holy shit, Robin.”
“Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself—”
“No, I’m not,” Steve shakes his head, kind of probably in shock, “No, I… I’ve been trying to figure this out for weeks. I should’ve just… Oh my god.”
He puts his free hand over his face, absolutely mortified. Not about liking Eddie, of course, but because he had stupidly never considered that liking girls didn’t automatically make him unable to like guys.
Jesus, he's an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” Robin says, and for what, Steve has no idea. She’s just fixed his whole problem—or at least, half the problem. Now he has a crush he has to deal with, and of course Nancy, but at least— “It’s not a bad thing, though. I know it’s a lot to deal with and if you need anything I’m here. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Rob, I’m fine,” Steve assures her, “Other than having a fucking pathetic crush on Eddie.”
Silence.
“So… you’re good with liking guys?” Steve looks up at her, sighing again for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.
“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s just I totally could’ve been doing something about it if I had just asked you sooner.”
Robin stares at him.
He stares back.
What, is he supposed to have some sort of breakdown? He’s had all sorts of thoughts about Billy and Tommy and Harrison Ford—of course he likes guys. Of course that’s not a “straight person” thing, he’s not stupid. But if he’d just applied a tiny bit of critical thinking—
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course I’m serious,” Steve scoffs, “I could’ve already had, like, eight boyfriends if I had just thought about it. But I’m a fucking meathead.”
The unintentional hilarity of that statement doesn’t miss either of them, but now’s probably not the time.
She stares.
He stares back.
“You astound me, Harrington.”
“Do you think Eddie likes guys?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m—seriously, do you think he likes dudes?”
“I hate that you just said dudes.”
“Robin.”
“How many times has he suggested we watch Rocky Horror?”
“Enough for us to shorten the name.”
“There’s your answer,” she says, still sounding flabbergasted at his nonchalance, “Man, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I cried for forty-eight hours after I realized I liked girls.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
Robin grimaces, “You’re right, I don’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She shakes her head, clearly done with him. It’s uniquely comforting how quickly she can go from a supportive shoulder to a hateful best-friend. He admires that about her, the many facets of her personality that make her, her. He truly doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wishes they had talked in high school, that he could’ve been someone else in those days, especially seeing where being the “coolest guy in town” has really gotten him.
Nowhere, that’s where.
“I love you,” he says. She’s still holding his hand, and she stays holding it.
“I love you, too.”
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queerweewoo · 2 months ago
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Eddie stumbles from his tangled bedsheets to go take his nightly piss—alarm clock beaming its 4:03 AM display directly onto his sleep-wrecked retinas and etching it there for what will possibly be all of eternity—because being past the age of thirty is all fun and games. 
Bare feet padding quietly as an exhausted still half-asleep one hundred and seventy-five pounds not far off six-foot guy can manage, he's just about to pass the living room when he hears... something.  
He stops. Holds his breath. Listens. 
Buck is mumbling, talking in his sleep.
“And, man, I (something something) you. Because you always listen to me; never make me feel bad for (something something), always make me feel like I'm worth sticking around for, and I (something something) for that, Eddie.”
Buck is dreaming. Buck is dreaming about Eddie. Buck is dreaming about Eddie making Buck feel wanted. 
Eddie smiles—and before realising what he's doing he is in his living room, leaning over his couch, leaning over Buck, and pressing a soft kiss to Buck's birthmark as if he's done this a thousand times before. 
Buck wakes, blinks, smiles sleepily back at Eddie, cute as a bug, and is then craning his neck to peck his own soft kiss to the small mole underneath Eddie's left eye. 
With the speed of a gunshot or a lightning strike, Eddie suddenly doesn't know why the hell Buck is sleeping on his couch instead of in his bed, or why the hell he hasn't had the guts to tell Buck that he is so, so in love with him—especially after Buck split with Tommy a few weeks back and started testing the water with Eddie when Eddie grew a moustache and styled his hair a little differently and suggested they go to that gay club down on Burbank together to drink stupid amazing pink cocktails and dance the night away as if they didn't have a care in the world)—and then just as fast, he's thinking fuck it, and la vida es demasiado corta, deciding to remedy the latter (with the hope it might remedy the former) by saying, “It's ass o'clock in the morning, Buck, and I really fucking love you.” 
Eddie's best friend is at once wide a-fucking-wake, eyes the size of abuela’s best Talavera dinner plates, mouth doing a pretty great impression of a guppy as he gawps up at Eddie. 
There's a concerningly long moment of silence, before Buck says, “Oh.” 
Like a champ, Eddie chooses to ignore the way his heart plummets as it tries to relocate somewhere deep in his gut, because he's had to get pretty damn good at that, what with everything that has happened in his loco life. So he just smiles again, a little dimmer, a little more tight-lipped, while nodding his head and rolling his eyes in a yeah, silly ol’me, huh? sort of way, and is about to push himself upright with the hand gripping the top of the couch so that he can drag his sorry ass back to his bedroom and get a tension headache from not allowing himself to cry and getting zero sleep for what will probably be the rest his life and— 
That's when Buck reaches out, a big hand grabbing at Eddie's waist. 
Eddie's gaze tears itself away from those beautiful Talavera eyes that are shining brightly in the thick darkness of his sleeping house, settling where Buck's hand is holding him in place, where the contact blazes; not like fire but like the ever-burning candle flame that's lived behind Eddie's ribcage for the past seven or so years.
“Eds, I’m—I wasn't, like, awake enough to, uh, to, to, to process that? And the thing is—” 
“Hey, no, Buck, it's okay, you don't need to explain.” Eddie's heart is falling, falling, falling, right to the very soles of his feet. “I shouldn't have just blurted that out at you, without any preamble—
“Eddie.”
“—and I definitely shouldn't have bothered you while your were—”  
“Eddie." 
“—sleeping, I just—
“Eddie, will you shut up!”  
Eddie's teeth clack as he dutifully swallows the rest of his rambling. 
“Can you please just listen to me for a sec?” Buck pleads.  
“I—yeah, Buck, sure. I'm sorry, ‘course. Sorry.”
Buck takes a breath. “You don't gotta be sorry, Eds, I was just trying to say: The thing is, I have said a lot of dumb things in my life—like a lot—but me saying ‘oh’ to you telling me that you love me? Yeah, no, that has to top the bill. Dumbest fucking thing that's ever left these lips.” Eddie can't help it when his gaze flickers to the pretty culprits; it's an involuntary action by this point. “Because,” and Buck is now licking at them—tongue wet and lush against plush red—before he's honest to Dios batting those beautiful blonde eyelashes of his in Eddie's helpless direction, then breathing his next words right into Eddie's mouth as he leans up, pulling Eddie into him at the same time and fanning the flame in Eddie's chest by saying, “I really fucking love you too, Eds.”  
And then he's kissing Eddie again—only this time he's pressing his lips into Eddie's lips, and Eddie is right there with him, kissing Buck back as if they've done this a thousand times before. 
When Buck has to pull away, presumably to prevent a crick in his neck—Eddie cannot fathom even half of another good reason to stop—Eddie goes to follow him down, so eager after so long, wanting to cover the entirety of Buck's body with the entirety of his own. But Buck shakes his head and says says, “No, wait, Eddie.”  
Before Eddie's heart can start digging its way down through the carpet and floorboards and foundations and dirt to some place that resembles an old forgotten underground well, Buck is asking, “Can I come to bed with you?”  
Then Eddie gets whiplash from having to will his heart from beating right out of his chest with just how much happiness is bursting its way in there; with Buck bursting in with all of his love and sharing it with Eddie, just like everything else in their lives.  
Eddie feels his cheeks flush when he says, “That's, uh—honestly, Buck? You'd kinda be making my favourite recurring dream come true, if you did.”
“Well, you shot my recurring dream down in flames, Eds, by not listening to me for what must be the very first time in seven literal years and talking right over my heartfelt love confession—even if I did end up stealing your line,” Buck smiles. Then he frowns and tuts dramatically.“You're a monster, Eddie Diaz,” he adds, teasing.   
Eddie pays back Buck's grin with added interest, because it's as infectious and unstoppable as the common cold.
“Firstly, you had just answered 'oh' when I told you that I loved you, and secondly, does this monster not get a pass seeing as we just got off a clusterfuck of a twenty-four and it's ass o'clock in the morning and I'd assumed you were trying to let me down gently?” 
“Absolutely not, Firefighter Diaz. One should never assume when it comes to a Buckley.” He follows the statement with a pointed look. “But I might think about letting you make it up to me,” and he's now grinning again, and this time it's a sort of sheepish, hopeful thing, “if you agree to being the teaspoon to my tablespoon in your big, comfortable bed. What do you say?” He bats those blonde lashes again, as if Eddie would need convincing. 
“I say yes sir, Firefighter Buckley,” Eddie agrees instantly, obviously, bending down to scoop a surprised Buck up and over his shoulder and into a very appropriate Evacuation Lift, Buck kind of squealing hilariously when Eddie sets off for his bedroom at what is a pretty impressive pace, if you were to ask Eddie. 
And after they've sunk their bodies beneath the tangled bedsheets at ass o'clock in the morning (4.12 AM to be precise), and as Buck wraps the entirety of his long self around the entirety of Eddie, in Eddie's bed—their bed, now, Eddie's hoping—Eddie breathes in a full breath for the first time all summer, allowing himself to love and be loved.  
His next big breath is a couple of weeks later, when Christopher comes home and rolls his eyes at Eddie and Buck after they tell him they're together, merely giving them a slightly obnoxious finally! in that patented teenage tone before heading to his room to set up his gaming station and settle back in, like he'd never even been away.  
Oh, and in case anyone were to wonder, Eddie would have to admit that he really, really loves being the little spoon—almost as much as he and Buck love each other. 
.
on ao3 HERE if you'd like to leave me a comment!
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manjiroro · 1 year ago
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secret lover
character: mitsuya
content: fluff, gn reader
synopsis: mitsuya seems to have gotten into a relationship and the boys are determined to get him to confess who his secret lover is
wc: 529
hello! i’m somewhat back so have this short drabble i thought of because im having mitsuya brainrot <33 my skills are rusty so im sorry if its wonky,, hope you enjoy!!
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“C’mon mitsuya just tell us who the lucky person is and we’ll leave”
“Yeah mitsuya it wouldn’t hurt to tell us y’know, your BEST friends”
“Guys i genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. Just go home already.” mitsuya said, backing up into a corner by his friends, to which mikey pouted, draken and baji scoffed, and pehyan pointing an accusatory finger at him,
“Nuh uh, i saw you holding hands with someone after school when you said you were too busy to hang out with us.” 
Mitsuya sighed, sweat collecting along his hairline. It was because of that accusation that caused the rest of the toman founders to storm into his club room, demanding who this secret someone was that was causing him to be ‘too busy’ to hang out with the boys.
“It’s not like we’re gonna freak out that you’re in a relationship mitsuya, just tell us.” draken calmly said.
“The bigger question is why are you here draken. You’re not the typa guy to hound on me like this.”
“I’m curious. And also so that these two idiots don’t do anything stupid.” draken explained, head tilting to refer to both mikey and baji. 
Just as mitsuya was about to defend himself once again, the doors to the club room swung open revealing an exasperated student, clutching onto their shirt buttons.
“Taka-kun! This is an emergency! My shirt button popped out and i can’t possibly walk around school with my chest exposed for the whole world to see!” you cried, hoping to be met with the open arms of your boyfriend, but soon stopped in your tracks seeing your purple haired lover being cornered by four other boys. 
“Uh- am I interrupting something here..?” you asked slowly, confusion evident on your face. The toman founders turned their attention from you to the poor boy cornered in between them. Said boy was flushed, his face and ears turning a light pink colour, eyes casting downward in hopes of avoiding the other boys’ gazes. 
“So, taka-kun, mind introducing who this lovely person is?” baji teased, wrapping his arm around mitsuya’s shoulder and directing him to you. 
Mitsuya clears his throat, removing baji’s arm and walking towards you, his shaking arm wrapping around your waist tightly, almost as if to ground and calm himself down. 
“This is y/n, y/n these are my friends. Now come with me, lemme fix your shirt for you.” mitsuya guides you to his work table while he turns his head behind to mouth a ‘get out’ to his friends. The boys snickered before they finally left the club room and flustered mitsuya alone.
“I’m sorry taka-kun, i didn’t know your friends were here.” you apologised to your boyfriend, a cute pout making its way to your lips. To which mitsuya chuckled and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.
“That’s alright my love, i was gonna have to introduce you to them sooner or later.” mitsuya smiled at you and gave you a small pat on your head. Although, it wasn’t the way mitsuya was planning on introducing you to his friends. He was definitely going to kick their asses later.
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reblogs are highly appreciated!!
❥ masterlist
requests are closed!!
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rewritingcanon · 1 year ago
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i’ve seen relationship therapists and psychologists analyse hermione and ron’s relationship and conclude that they wouldn’t work out in the long run. they’ve argued for hermione to be with harry, krum, even DRACO (don’t understand how a counsellor can vow for canon dramione but alright) as an alternative partner for hermione since ron is “too insecure” to be with her and match her intelligent prowess or what have you.
i seriously don’t understand this sentiment. ron and hermione genuinely seem (almost) perfect to me, maybe not in the movies (a common denominator of people who don’t like romione is that they always cite evidence from the movies, since the films took a lot away from ron’s character and his growth), but definitely in the books.
looking at ron’s insecurities, a lot of people dredge his inferiority complex up to toxic masculinity primarily, when it was more explored how it was an effect of his home life (not gonna argue toxic masculinity wasn’t a factor, they’re teenagers in the 90s written by a pretty misogynistic woman so…). he was the youngest son out of how many children? all of his older brothers were brilliant in some way. bill was an extremely gifted spellcaster, charlie was gifted with magical beasts, percy’s academic score was unmatched, and fred and george (despite their trouble) were entrepreneurial inventor-geniuses. ron, on the other hand, was quite literally born a disappointment to his mother, who conceived him specifically because she wanted a daughter, whilst ginny was born her favourite (though, even then, ginny was gifted at quidditch). ron was mediocre in every sense of the word, and his two best friends were harry (one of the most famous wizards) and hermione (the smartest witch of her age yada yada). and i’ve seen people argue that harry was more welcomed by molly into the weasley household than ron ever was. this isn’t even mentioning the amount of bullshit he copped for being poor (people always downplay the blow to confidence being in poverty can have on a person who is constantly surrounded by people who not only have more, but look down on him for simply being unlucky as to not have what they do).
so yeah, ron was an envious kid, but he was that way not because he was an evil patriarchal conception but because he was lowkey neglected. and even then he was overall an extremely devoted and loyal friend to both harry and hermione, because he did genuinely love them.
there were many moments of ron standing up for hermione that was cut from the films, not as a guy who was romantically interested in her, but as a friend. ron arguing with snape for making hermione cry is one of my fav scenes in the books ru kidding me, and in the movies he AGREED with snape RU KIDDING ME. not to mention how ron was a sobbing violent mess when hermione was getting tortured in the last book, whereas he wasn’t nearly as bothered in the films. and the films cut out harry being a dick to ron about his familial concerns (in dh), so when ron left it seemed like a random dickish move over his jealousy towards harry and hermione’s relationship.
there’s also a million moments where they minimised ron’s usefulness in the books for comedic purposes (forbidden forest with aragog, troll scene, devils snare scene) so ron seems dumber than he is. like, he’s actually smart and a really good spellcaster…. in the books.
so simply by stating this most of the arguments against romione become void. “he’s too stupid/weak for her” simply not true. “he’s a terrible friend who doesn’t stand up for her” also not true. “he’s too insecure to have made a move on her,” yes, but given the context i don’t think people would freak on about ron’s upbringing, i think many would be more understanding, especially considering his growth. even if he wasn’t insecure, hermione is beyond incredible and is bound to make anyone nervous when pursuing her (not an excuse for ron to act like a dick, but it does explain a lot where the movies don’t). “they argue too much” they bump heads, none of the arguments they have are actually super damning, with the exception of ron leaving in deathly hallows.
maybe i’ve covered everything (excluding the abhorrent amount of classism that clouds people’s judgments around how they view ron when harping about how hermione deserves better? hopefully).
now, i know people won’t like me mentioning the cursed child, but i’m going to considering we actually get an insight of their life as a longterm married couple there. a lot of ron stans hated how ron was the only character that wasn’t doing something incredible. harry was head of the aurors, ginny was a famous quidditch player retired to a famous journalist, neville was a hogwarts professor, hermione was quite literally minister on magic. and ron…. ran the joke shop with george.
and i think this was almost the perfect route to go down for ron. because he was average, and was perfectly fine with just being average. hello?? that speaks leagues of growth for his character. he’s supportive of hermione’s work, he grounds her when she gets too caught up in being the literal president of wizarding society, and he still viciously defends her, minister or not. in fact, he’s proud to simply be known as hermione’s husband because he doesn’t feel the need to prove to anyone else his worth. the people he loves most know his worth, hermione never downplays or underestimates him, they are complete equals in the relationship in every single way that matters. they kept ron’s best qualities whilst making him seem more of a healed person. they work so well as a married couple without it seeming like mischaracterisation (not to mention the cursed child literally shows how those two are in love in every reality, so there quite literally can’t be a better partner for hermione or ron according to canon).
so i really don’t understand how professional relationship counsellors can go online and denounce it. probs because they only watched the movies, but it’s 2023 and ron stans should not STILL be fighting for their lives trying to defend him from people who simply don’t consume media with as much depth (which is fine, but one should clarify if they’re talking about the movies because i’ve seen people state they’re talking about the hp BOOKS when it’s simply just…. the films). anyways. romione on top, thanks to coming to my ted talk.
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four-dogteeth · 17 days ago
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Simon “Ghost” Riley
•Ghost was a dumb nickname. He wore the stupid mask his brother used to scare him with as a recruit. It was supposed to be a way to reclaim it, he’d guess, but also secretly to hide the little scars on his face. A few snake bites from his fathers abuse he hated to see and the uneven split of his cheekbone from a bottle broken onto his face. It was a stupid argument and he hates that the stupid scar always reminds him of it.
•He cant stand to see his body after Roba. That’s when the mask started to really matter to him. They just made it so much worse. He was hung on a meathook and the scars Still get shocks of pain all the time. They performed a fucking penectomy. He can’t stand to see his own body and remember the pain.
•Expanding on the penectomy. It nearly ended his life. Price and him have an unbreakable bond because he pulled strings to keep that entirely off the records. When Simon tried to kill himself out of shame, Price fucking saved his life and did everything in his power to get him back on the team. That was what saved his life.
•His family being murdered is what really inspired him to adopted “Ghost”. To wholly embrace it. No one knows his real name, not anyone he doesn’t trust, even if his family is already dead. He wants to protect the people he cares about a lot.
•He’s become a bit of a chainsmoker. It’s nasty and he tries to hide his addiction, and often actually calls himself disgusting for the habit. But he can’t quit bringing a cigarette to his lips.
•He has to say Soap is his best friend. The banter comes natural with him and he finds himself being more honest with the guy than he means to be. Sometimes he can’t help it and he just blurts out something insane like “my parents are both dead.” Soap would go quiet and kind of fidget. He gets this weird look on his face, almost gentle. “Yeah?“
•Often jokes about the two closest people in his life are named John.
•He likes television. It’s stupid and boring and none of it is good. He doesn’t admit to enjoying any shows. But whenever there is one available he definitely has it on and he won’t admit it, but you’ll catch him watching it.
•He has a flat, but he doesn’t go home often for leave. He tries to avoid the place entirely, actually. It’s barely decorated, very little furniture. Probably not even a drop of food in the place. On holidays, the team actually has him come home with them. Usually he goes with Johnny, but he’s joined the others, too. Their families are usually delighted to meet him.
•Sometimes it does make him miss his family. He’s a beautiful guest, he’s polite and engages in conversation. He even takes his mask off if they really insist. But it’s really bittersweet because inside he misses his family. The rage of what was taken from him is hard to ignore.
•Johnny is special. His mom is a delight and they have a charming home. His father is a little colder, but not entirely cruel. He uses a phrase Simon is not familiar with - buffty. When he tries to ask Johnny, the other won’t explain. He could look it up, but people have secrets for a reason and he won’t push.
•Actually he thinks about Johnny a lot. It’s dangerous, being this attached. Sometimes he wonders if he’s honest to God crazy. (He doesn’t have a clue he’s in love)
(I’m well aware a lot of this isn’t really canon but that’s kind of the point)
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moneymartin · 6 months ago
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PLEASE PLEASE do a kate martin fic where the reader is her ex and they cannot stay away from each other. like “uh oh” by tate mcrae PLEASE
・❥・- favorite bad decision
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summary: you see kate at a practice after the two of you split
warnings: nfsw mdni. 18+ as fawk! but the smut is kinda short sozzzz
rpf. don’t read it if you don’t feel comfortable
a/n: i’m negl all my kate fics are fluffy cause i cannot see myself writing smut. (but i try to deliver so this sucks cuz i got a lil uncomfy) 😭 also i’m sorry for lacking on my writing im so stressed w all these exams im taking and some family problems. this also might go off track cause i wrote this half asleep 😕 didn’t know how to end this one too
stars are the skips :)
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it’s been 5 months. 5 stupid months since that relationship you refused to let go ended. you couldn’t believe it either when your girlfriend suddenly said “we need to breakup.”. she never told you why, despite the multiple calls and texts you sent when she left the morning after that were begging for her to come back or at least explain why she felt that way.
you felt like absolute shit.
it was a long relationship, your longest one too. it was the fact you believed it would last forever. you wished for it to last when you saw those repeated numbers and whenever a star dotted across the sky. you believed in those silly little things, but you only believed in them for this stupid 1.5 year period.
everything felt like it had been going your way during those times. you felt alive again after meeting kate. she was the definition of a literal ball of sunshine when it came to you. constantly bringing you to her basketball games, showing you off to her friends and teammates, introducing you to her family. things were great. the feeling was refreshing, especially after being in probably the worst relationship of your life.
a guy played you behind your back so many times and you were unable to figure out yourself. the second you did, you didn’t even know why or what to do. you struggled with school from the thought of never finding out what he thought was weird about you or why he even considered doing that in the first place. you treated him like he was the best boyfriend in the world!
then kate had dug you out of a hole you thought you’d never have the guts or the fucking courage to get out of.
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“there’s nothing wrong with you trying to get your mind off of it y’know.” jada says. shes been helping you cope with this thing even though her and kate are the closest people ever. she’d never tell a single soul anything you always talk to her about. “coming to our last game in carver won’t be that bad!”
“yeah, not so bad until i see kate! you know how i feel about her, jades. it hurts.” you murmur and swipe the back of your hand against your face. there’s a painful feeling at the bottom of your stomach and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “i’m not going and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”
jada’s face contorts into a half smile when she hears the way you talk about the whole shebang. she knows you that still can’t let it go, and she wishes so badly that you could let kate go. “right.” she breathes out and grinds her teeth together. “you don’t need to come.”
but you do anyways.
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you sat there at court side awkwardly, watching the hawkeyes train before their final home game. you only saw caitlin, hannah, gabbie, syd, and kylie. jada was sitting next to you and cheering on her teammates. thankfully, you didn’t spot kate anywhere close or on the court at all.
until you fucking did.
kate walked in through the tunnel and dropped her gym bag on the floor, a loud thud echoing through the arena. she had her hair up in that same stupid braid, that same stupid smirk on her face, and that same stupid look in her eyes. you hated her so fucking much and you hated the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard you tried to.
that churn in the stomach made you feel like you had level 1000 cramps, but it was just that feeling you got when you felt absolutely sick to the core. sick because you didn’t know what, or how to feel after seeing kate again. it was the shitty feeling of not knowing why she even chose to leave you in the first place. it was the feeling of frustration when you saw her smile again. the feeling of confusion rushing back to you. you felt like a small child getting yelled at when she broke up with you, it was when nothing made sense at all to you. when you didn’t get the answer you wanted after multiple tries of begging for it.
you didn’t understand it, and you still don’t.
“you alright?” jada snaps you out of whatever the hell you were thinking about and you jump slightly, eyes diverting away from kate. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” you huff and smile with your teeth out. your body starts to grow numb and you feel as if you can’t breathe as well as you normally would, which jada notices. she grabs your shoulders tightly and places her palm on the side of your face to move your head towards hers. she knows you’re staring at kate. “you’re not fine.”
thanks captain obvious.
“yeah, obviously not!!!” you blurt out way too loud. it makes everything and everyone around you stop. the sound of the balls dribbling against the floor and the continuous chatter around you just stops. everything is silent and you know that its because of you. your face flushes at the embarrassment you feel and you step off onto the court, walking towards the exit. the sound of footsteps follow you and you don’t even have the guts to turn around. it seriously feels like you’re about to get completely flamed for acting out at a clear statement about what you felt.
but it’s not jada. or caitlin. it’s fucking kate.
a wave of anger and bitterness rushes through you like no other, and you can’t tell whether to be upset or nervous about this little interaction. you still love kate and you know that. “you like to yell, huh?” she chuckles and pushes your shoulder lightly. when her hand touches you, you don’t move away and just let her do it.
“lighten up, will ya?” kate’s lips curl up into the damn smirk again and she looks at you with those eyes. the eyes that she knows you can’t say no to, the eyes that got you hooked in the first place. “i missed when you acted up like that, to be honest.”
you’ve missed her touch so badly, but you just can’t admit it.
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there’s a lot of things you acknowledge in life. things that you know. you know whats right and wrong when it comes to decisions and when it comes to certain things like seeing people you know you aren’t supposed to.
but you know that this is right. it always has been.
promises are always broken too, and this was one you swore you’d never break. it was hard, especially because kate was the hottest fucking person on the planet. saying ‘no’ to her was practically impossible. she asked you to come over after the game and you happily complied. which was a horrible idea.
“you’re such a fuckin’… asshole.” you whine out and let out a bated breath. your body shivers when kate’s fingers run up and down underneath your shirt and when her breath hits your sopping core. she’s in between your legs and eating you out like a madwoman. your head falls back into her pillows, fingers gripping tight at the roots of her hair and the bedsheets on the side of your body. “am i?” she mumbles, sending vibrations through your body that you haven’t felt in months.
that feeling is so good. and you know it. you missed it when kate acted up too. seeing her all tough on the court made something reignite in your stomach again, and it exploded when you saw her in the locker rooms. you literally dragged her out of there while she was in the middle of a conversation with addi and into your car. you couldn’t even wait before your lips were eagerly on hers and her hands were roaming in all the right places.
“yeah, you are. you fucking bitch…..” your voice goes up an octave the moment kate licks a stripe up your pussy and starts leaving hickeys around your thighs and stomach. “i tried ignoring you when i saw you at the club last week. all i wanted to do was jump into your arms and kiss your face off.” you admit awkwardly and let out a quiet cry the moment your stomach turns into knots. you’re close and she can feel it, her head diving down again while you absentmindedly hump at her face.
“shit!” you whimper and prop your head up, watching kate lap up every last drop of your cum. “i got you, baby,” she breathes out heavily onto your stomach. her breath is warm and she presses her cheek up against it when she feels your legs shake. her thumb rubs your sides and she looks up at you, rising up slightly and keeping herself steady with her hands. yours grabbing at her shoulders. when she keeps herself up you can feel her arms bulging underneath her shirt and she leans in. “mmf.. that’s my girl.”
her tongue swirls around yours, making you taste yourself all the way before the moment turns over quickly. “mhm..” you hum and slide your hands down her arms to get a feel again. the second you pull away, kate’s eyes go from feral to soft. she leans back and searches around on her floor, picking up your undergarments and sliding them on for you. “it’s okay.” she smiles and moves her head towards you. kate rests her head on your chest, chin in between and her arms around your stomach while your fingers cup her face.
you’re never gonna be able to stop forgiving her if she keeps doing this to you. and you know it.
251 notes · View notes
factual-fantasy · 16 days ago
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27 asks! Thanks yall!! :}} 📐
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@milk-powrit (Referencing this post)
..Because I don't like Zooble. 😐
Zooble up to this point just hasn't been a pleasant character most of the time for me- She swears like a sailor, is always flipping people off and being rude left and right. Not my kind of character. 💀
Now you might say "Zooble clearly has some issues going on deep down that makes her act that way" or "Zooble is mean to Caine because she doesn't like her body" In this case, I point you to what I said on that post-
"while I know many characters are likely to turn out evil or turn out to be really sweet, I'm taking them all at their current face value. Hope this helps some of my maybe.. surprising? Tiers make some more sense" This was directed at Zooble and Jax. They've probably got some lore that will make me sympathize with them but currently I just don't like it when those two characters are on screen :|
I will say though that Zooble was saved from being moved even lower in the tiers for the tenderness she showed in setting up Kaufmo's funeral.. <XD
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@eggnonymous
Little does the egg know I have a frying pan behind my back.... just in case.. 👁️👁️
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@i-dogtor-dog
Feeling pretty rough <:( but doing my best.. <:) 👍 Also thank you! :)))
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(Link in ask)
Woah.. the designs for this AU(?) are wild :00
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@thangone
Woah! Your artwork is looking great! :DD And what a cute littol fwoggy :)))
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His voice gets on my nerves if I listen to it for too long- but otherwise he's really funny and I like him as a character :)) I will be really sad if/when he turns out to be an evil master mind/the villain or something :(
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They belong in Minecraft.
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@neo-metalscottic (Kinger love post)
Hello! :DD I'm glad to hear you liked my Kinger post! Its nice to see him get so much love after the new episode :)) the poor guy deserves it.. <:(
Now Funky Kong, he is in my AU :00 and I intend to incorporate most other Kongs as well! Maybe I can tie in his "traveling salesman" type vibe and make him a brave/reckless Kong that likes to explore new areas on their island..? :00
As for Kirby, the Anime has a special place in my heart. And I also know barely anything about the games lore- The characters also seem to have a lot more personality in the Anime. For better or for worse <XDD
My favorite from the anime is definitely Metaknight. His only downside is he doesn't appear to have wings. <:/ (I remedy this in my AU >:) )
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@stupid-thatsme
If I read this correctly, it seems like you wanted some written out explanation or something? If so I'm afraid I cant help you there- I don't consider myself to be very good at explaining art things-
The best I could do is draw some examples and try to explain the drawings. But since you said you already know all the lines and stuff.. well.. :x
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@weirdweeb83
Now THIS.. Is some proper Halloween candy 🤩
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@holly-opal
Not anymore! :)
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@p0wer-up21
One of the scariest creatures on Earth <XDDD
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@mrrebel7
AAA THANK YOU!! :DDD AND THAT'S AWESOME TO HEAR!! :))) I hope your project goes smoothly! :))))
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XDD I can pronounce that just fine!
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OH YEAH ITS YOU! :00
Also yeahh,, things have been really tough for me.. I'm doing my best to keep my head up and get through it. I'm hoping to get some relief from my symptoms soon. <:/ Thank you <:))
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That's not a fun fact, that's a sad fact :( I'd rather people never find me then find me through waves of stolen artwork..
But none the less, thank you. I'm glad to hear you like my art! :))
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@marionette-jester
I don't know if this is an insult or a cursed compliment XD But I choose to give you the benefit of the doubt and think the latter! So thank you! :)
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@the-8th-of-w1zards
AAAA THANK YOU!! :DDD Also I've been drawing far too long to remember my original inspiration.. but my guess is playing sonic games and wanting to draw Tails..? XDD Maybe Pokémon too..?
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Meh 🤷 not particularly interested in those guys
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Thank you! :))
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Idk how long I'll play, but so far I've been enjoying it! My favorite cookie based on appearance is Star Coral cookie. Story/personality wise its a tie between Pure Vanilla and White Lily-
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O_O oh dear-
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@inkyblots
All I have to say is use references and do you very best to keep the drawing in model <:/
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:DD Thank you! :)
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Oh yeah, I've seen some of those around 😅 They're not really my taste anymore-
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@captain-skyler1987
Uhg, that's always disheartening to see. Thanks for letting me know.. <:/
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@hershelwidget
I cant share most of the books I read for a few reasons- but the book you're talking about sounds so good!.. And so sad.. <:'(( I'll have to keep it in mind! :)
88 notes · View notes
abstractnaturaldisaster · 6 months ago
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is it over now? (was it over then?)
part seven
part eight: i think about jumping off of very tall somethings
Eddie was fully convinced he had lost whatever remaining dignity he might have had when his friends had found him sunken into his beanbag chair with random detritus strewn around the room. He really thought he could not feel any lower than when Ronnie made it more obvious than necessary that she was picking her way through Eddie's junk to stick a hand into his nest and pull him out by his collar. He thought that was rock bottom, but being early for coffee with Robin and Nancy and having to wait with a cooling americano he spent way too much money on really gave that whole experience a run for its money.
Ronnie had suggested dming Robin and Nancy and testing the waters to see if they would be willing to broker some sort of reunion with Steve. Eddie stared at her like she had suggested he deliver the one ring to mordor alone; however, she obviously had a point since the newly announced couple suggested meeting up.
"Hey! Eddie! Sorry we're late!" Robin caught Eddie's attention as Nancy went to order.
"Oh, uh, no worries," Eddie fumbled, "I'm just happy you're here at all honest."
"I mean, Nance said it's only fair to hear you out but you were fucking brutal to my best friend, dude, so like the window to give you some grace is pretty fucking small," Robin answered.
"No, yeah totally understood. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asked.
"Why don't you just explain what happened from your side of things. From our angle, you look like kind of a douche but also I feel like maybe Steve didn't handle things great either? I dunno. I mean, you made him really happy, if we have a chance to fix that, I think I owe it to Steve, right?" Robin answered.
"Sure, yeah, no that makes sense," Eddie started as Nancy sat down with her and Robin's drinks.
"Keep going, Eddie, this is mostly Robin's thing anyway," Nancy prompted. She did not look quite as open to fixing things as Robin did and Eddie felt a little more nervous after he let himself relax in Robin's easy presence.
"For sure, so like obviously you know all of the like tabloid bullshit about Steve and whatever and like I kind of got it and understood but then without any warning I show up and Steve's like gorgeous and super successful ex was just on his couch and Steve isn't willing to explain? I mean that was pretty fucking hard to swallow," Eddie finished a little less certain of where he stood with Robin as she narrowed her eyes over her tea.
"So instead of trusting Steve and listening to him when he told you how much the tabloids have lied about him throughout his career you let the fact that I was present in his home be enough to trump years of what you all had built?" Nancy questioned. Eddie could see her journalism chops coming out.
"That's fair. I mean, I definitely acted without a lot of thought but like, why wouldn't you have looped me in? Did you guys not trust me?" Eddie asked still trying to figure out why he was left flat footed all those weeks ago.
"I think that might be on me," Robin piped up, "I was pretty nervous about coming out and I think Steve was being super protective and didn't want to ask me to come out to more people than I was wanting to. It's not that he didn't trust you, Eddie, it's that we had some pretty shitty years with different agents trying to push me in different directions and I think he just was sick of feeling like outside forces were making me move quicker than I was ready to. And it's not like you made it easy on him to reach out to you after. How was he supposed to respond when you blocked him on literally every platform?"
"I guess I didn't think he would want to explain or he'd try to like explain everything away even though it had seemed obvious at the time he was cheating on me," Eddie paused when both Robin and Nancy threw death glares across the table, "Jeez, I know now that was stupid but at the time it was the only rational I could see."
"I guess we should stop interrogating you, you do seem pretty serious, otherwise I don't think you would have agreed to meet both of us," Nancy jumped in.
"I really regret cutting him off like I did. I know I got way too in my head about everything immediately and just didn't give it time or let him respond," Eddie tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.
"We believe you, you two are both dinguses," Robin cut in, "more importantly, what are we going to do about that fucking song and how the hell do you propose apologizing for all the shit you stirred?"
"I thought we were done with the interrogation," Eddie held his hands up.
"Only about whether or not you're genuine, you still have to figure out how you are putting my bestie back together," Robin answered.
"So about that. I have a couple ideas. One, I feel like a song got us into this mess and my label wants more music anyways so I am kind of thinking of an apology song. The rest of my band has actually started workshopping some stuff with me to try to put it together as soon as we can. I'm kind of hoping to release it before Steve gets back so we are a bit under the clock," Eddie began, "And second, that's where I was kind of hoping you guys could help. I don't want to like ambush the guy but I also don't know if Steve will be interested in meeting with me or like ready to start dating again. I was kind of hoping I could crash one of your movie nights? Maybe once Steve gets settled a bit more?"
"Steve is not the best with surprises," Robin thought aloud, "but that's not a no, it's a convince me."
"I just figure he'll be in his space and relaxed and he also fully has an out to have you kick me out if he isn't interested. If he is, I was kind of hoping you too would be willing to make yourselves scarce?" Eddie hoped that was enough.
Surprisingly, Nancy was the one to answer.
"I think we have a deal, Munson," Nancy stuck her hand out for Eddie to shake.
Eddie left the cafe feeling more hopeful than he had in some time.
part nine
@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast
@mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82
@lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog @counting-dollars-counting-stars @bookworm0690
(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)
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invidiia · 1 year ago
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can you do more teenage platonic yandere ones 🙏🙏 i love them bro
one suggestion is them (chuuya, ranpo, dazai, sigma, idek) w a rebellious teenager 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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sorry, you've been misinformed.
⋆⭒˚。⋆ "we appreciate." 𖤐 separate platonic yanderes chuuya, ranpo, dazai, sigma x reader
these mfs cannot deal with rebellious teenagers!!!!
m.list // previous
[ a/n ; HI SILLIES SORRY I DIDNT DO A YANXREADER POST YESTERDAY IDKFKKFKFCX ANYWAY HERES THE PLATONIC YANDERE SILLY PEOPLE ?! ]
[ warning ; platonic yandere, lowkey crack 😭😭, stalking ]
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— CHUUYA NAKAHARA
⋆ lord, please give this man the patience to deal with you
⋆ he gets it, he was a rebellious teenager too, but so? he doesn't have time for you to act this way, like at all. probably best to just,, cooperate
⋆ chuuya has to put a lot of time into his job, being an executive and all, so that leaves you a lot of time to go do rebellious teenager shit
⋆ you can imagine it's pretty often he comes back to find you not there, or if you go to school, he'll get calls about you skipping class to go do whatever it was teenagers did when they skipped
⋆ yokohama mall is huge, perfect place to go to have fun and get away from chuuya!! it most definitely ends with you getting dragged out of the mall doors by your collar and shoved into the backseat of the car to go home, but it was fun anyway.
⋆ funny ass little arguments, too. "and if i find out you left when i come back, you'll regret it." "uh-huh, i bet i will." "just shut up and stay here."
⋆ please take him seriously, or at least pretend to, for his own sanity 😭
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— RANPO EDOGAWA
⋆ ranpo doesn't take you seriously at all.
⋆ even if he knows you'll actually go do something stupid, he won't take you seriously. and when you go do it, consequences await you anyway 🤷
⋆ no point in keeping secrets, he already knows
⋆ plans to sneak out? getting stuff without permission? anything you keep from him? yeah, he knew already lol
⋆ lowkey draws a line at going against him and doing illegal stuff. committing any kind of crime? lmao no, he'll just keep you with him at all times or something which is probably embarrassing asf
⋆ am i wrong to think he may drag poe into this? maybe, shrug
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— OSAMU DAZAI
⋆ he doesn't have time either, i almost feel bad for him
⋆ he's like ranpo actually, has no shame in forcing you almost everywhere with him or leaving you to atsushi which is really evil, poor atsushi
⋆ arguments are funny as hell (for him) probably you yelling and trying to make a point and explain why you do whatever you do or something and dazai just laughing and not listening LMAO
⋆ "that's crazy kid lmao" "i'm trying to make a point, don't fucking call me that."
⋆ doesn't really care about you yelling at him. just forces you everywhere with him
⋆ remember in chuuya's part where you just sneak into yokohama mall to get away from him and have fun? too bad lmao, dazai knew you were coming and followed you anyway!! just when you thought you were finally alone, away from the suffocating presence of dazai and could terrorize the shoppers in peace, nope LOL
⋆ he just tags along with you, keeping a hand on your shoulder and a smile on his face while you just grit your teeth and deal with him. "can we just go home?" "no wayy, didn't you wanna come here?" "not with you."
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— SIGMA
⋆ poor guy lmao
⋆ literally has to stop you from terrorizing the customers or damaging the casino somehow
⋆ a little hard to sneak out unless you have an ability or another person to help you
⋆ cue nikolai coming to the casino to bother sigma and then helping you sneak out because it'll annoy sigma and he doesn't care LMAO
⋆ probably ends up locking you in your room because he doesn't trust you enough to keep you with him. sigma learned that from a past mistake he made with you
⋆ "wait, this card is damaged. the game isn't valid, therefore, you need to replay." and then the teenager next to him probably being the one who messed up the card LOL
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papercorgiworld · 8 months ago
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You're uninvited
Draco Malfoy x Potter!reader
When tensions between your brother and Draco rise, your friend advises you to go talk to Draco since he'll listen to you. However, some meddling by Mattheo and Theodore complicates things.
For this story Iris (a cameo by @amongemeraldclouds ) will be your friend and Enzo's girlfriend.
For the darling who requested this, I hope you like it. I find that it misses something, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's the lack of brother sister interaction, I don't know. I did my best. Also shittiest tittle ever, but zero inspiration. I had struggles with this one. Anyways Happy readings!
“Fifty points from Slytherin because you went crying to Mcgonagall, I’ll get you for this Potter!” Draco snarled as he walked past your brother, you frown as you approached them. Draco raises his eyebrows as he passes you as well. “What did you do?” You snap at your brother as his eyes still follow Draco’s figure. He ignores you and Hermoine frowns. “He looked seriously pissed off.” Harry shrugs. “What can he do-“ Ron raises his eyebrows at his friend. “He can break your nose again.” Your brother can see the horror in your eyes at Ron’s suggestion. “Don’t worry, (y/n). Most of the time he’s all bark, no bite.”
You walk with your brother and his friends in the direction of the great hall. Once there you spot your friend, Iris, waving at you from the Slytherin table and you make your way over to her. “Your brother lost us 50 house points.” She complains and you sit down next to her. “I know.” You sigh. “In how much trouble is he?” You question sheepishly and her eyes quietly move opposite of her to where her boyfriend is sitting. Enzo smiles, not really bothered by the loss of points. “I think we can all get over the 50 points lost, but Draco getting a week detention… yeah he’s definitely out for revenge.” Your eyes widen at Enzo. “A week’s detention?” Enzo and Iris both nod and you lose your appetite, remembering how bad Harry looked after Draco broke his nose. Iris’s brown eyes carefully watch you as you stare at your plate. Knowing that you’re probably worried about another fight she offers some advice. “Why don’t you talk to Draco and explain that your brother is just an idiot, I’m sure he’ll listen to reason… at least if it’s coming from you.” Enzo looks at Iris through his laches, knowing very well what his girlfriend is hinting at. “Yeah, he’ll definitely listen to you.” He tries to sound serious, but you notice a hint of mischief in his tone and frown. Iris narrows her eyes at her boyfriend for being obvious and for a moment you think about asking what’s going on, but you decide against it and just nod. “You guys are probably right. I can just talk to him and encourage a peaceful solution to the endless tension between the two.” 
Blaise takes a seat at the Slytherin table and his eyes immediately land on you. “Come on, Potter, sitting at the slytherin table after what your brother pulled, he lost us fifty points, you’re ballsy sitting here!” You know he’s only joking, but you notice the whole slytherin table looking at you and feel yourself get smaller. “Back off Blaise, you’ve probably lost Slytherin more points.” Iris snares at Blaise and he laughs. “Excuse me! I don’t lose us points. You must mistake me for your himbo boyfriend over here.” Enzo goes from smiling to dead serious in a split second, turning to Blaise. “Are you calling me stupid?” Blaise rolls eyes. “Yesterday you said a mandrake was a fruit.” Lorenzo narrows his eyes at Blaise. “In my defence she was sitting next to me and you can’t expect me to listen to Sprout when… you know, I was focussed on other things…” Enzo points at his girlfriend, blaming her for being distracted during class. You can’t help but smile, happy that for now everyone has forgotten about Harry. With the tension at the table gone your mind wonders what you’ll say to Draco to convince him to make peace or at least not get into another fight with your brother.
***
After class you spot Draco gathering his books while scowling at Mattheo who’s clearly trying to be funny. When Mattheo spots you he smirks and quickly leaves the classroom, you slowly approach Draco who’s still focused on organising his notes. You start fidgeting with your fingers as you notice everyone’s left and it’s just you and a very frustrated Draco who can’t seem to find a certain page. Just when your courage to talk to him sinks you spot a piece of parchment laying on the floor and reach for it. “Is this what you’re looking for?” Surprised, Draco circles around to you and frowns at your presence. You immediately notice how hesitant he is towards you. “I just saw it on the floor and I thought it might be yours.” You try to sound casual, but since the two of you rarely talk your words sound forced and awkward. “Thanks.” Draco whispers curtly and snatches the paper from your hands. When you don’t turn around to leave he watches you with a questioning look. 
After a bizarre moment of silence, he raises an eyebrow and turns back around to gather his notes. Sorry, Harry, but I’m doing this for you. “My brother’s an idiot.” The blond slytherin turns back to you. “He never thinks about the consequences of his actions.” Draco snorts at your words. “I don’t think he thinks at all.” You narrow your eyes at Draco. Don’t push it Malfoy, he is still my idiot brother. You look down and Draco notices that was not the best approach. You were different from Harry, but he was still your brother. “I heard Blaise gave you a hard time during lunch.” Draco tries to change the subject as he stuffs his notes into his bag. You nod and smile at him. “He was only joking, I know that.” Draco and you move towards the door. “I told everyone to leave you alone, I know you’re not a moron like you brother. Are you sure you’re family?” You chuckle at his question. “Yes, I’m sure Malfoy.” Your smile and he slows down his step, adoring your beauty, before his eyes lock with yours. There’s this soft moment between you two and you notice how Draco’s cheeks heat up, making him look away and walk a little faster than you in an attempt to hide his flustered face. 
“You don’t need to call me Malfoy, just because he does.” You're surprised by the gentle tone of Draco’s voice and a sweet smile tugs on your lips. “I know, but it’s not like you and I are friends or anything.” He stops and suddenly the two of you are standing way closer than either of you had intended. “Yeah, that’s probably why I hate him so much.” You frown, not really following and a soft chuckle rolls over Draco’s lips. “Your brother I mean… I like to think that if it wasn’t for him- maybe, I don’t know- maybe we would be friends or something.” Draco’s confession has you flustered and you press your lips into a line while avoiding his gaze at all costs. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Draco who suddenly even feels brave enough to take one step closer to you, leaving barely any space between the two of you as you stand there in an empty hallway. “Tomorrow before the Ravenclaw party, there’s a little pre-drink at the astronomy tower, rather exclusive, but Enzo and Iris will be there… You should come.” Your shiny eyes meet Draco’s as you nod. “I would like that.”
***
Unfortunately, the sweet moment between you two is mocked by Draco’s friends. “I bet that girl is willing to do all kinds of stuff now.” Theodore snorts at Draco’s confused face and Mattheo grins like a maniac. When Theodore notices that Draco’s getting rather annoyed he explains himself. “She’s worried about you hurting her brother, that’s why she’s suddenly being nice to you.” Draco’s eyes go emotionless at Theo’s suggestion and Mattheo licks his lips, mind still filled with dirty thoughts. “Enjoy it while it lasts, it should be fun. Pretty girl trying to gain your favour. I wouldn’t waste that opportunity.” Draco wrinkles his nose in disgust with his friends. “Keep your filth to yourself, Riddle.” With those words a furious Draco leaves the common room passing Iris and Enzo who immediately judge Theodore and Mattheo for whatever they had done this time. 
Draco spots you walking alone in the courtyard on your way to your friends. When you notice him walking in your direction, you smile and slow down so he can catch up with you. “Hi-” You’re immediately cut off. “You’re uninvited.” Draco snaps at you with a scowl on his face. That’s all you get, because he immediately turns away. Your smile falls when you watch him walk away. His anger makes you take a step back, but even regardless of his anger, you are really disappointed that you couldn’t go tonight. You looked forward to spending time with him, because you liked him. It was your most guarded secret, you liked him a lot and now you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken. Maybe your brother and his friends were right, maybe he really was just a horrible person and all those nice things he had done over the years were just a bizarre way of mockery. You stood still in the middle of the courtyard, feeling like a fool.
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However, Draco was about to feel like an even bigger fool, because when he returned to the slytherin common room he overheard Enzo and Iris lecturing Mattheo and Theo. “I can’t believe you guys would say something like that.” Iris says, shaking her head at Mattheo and Theodore. Lorenzo lets himself fall on the sofa, grinning. “Really, you can’t believe that dumb and dumber ruined or little plan, because I’m not surprised.” Iris sighs and Mattheo and Theo frown. “Draco and (y/n) have been crushing on each other for years.” Enzo explains and both slytherin boys look shocked. Iris stares at them for a moment not believing that they hadn’t noticed the obvious signs, before her boyfriend tugs her hand urging her to stop stressing and join him. “Iris and I have been looking for an excuse to get them to talk again, hang out more, so this seemed the ideal opportunity.” Softly stroking Iris her black hair to make her relax, Enzo explains their plan and Draco’s eyelids fall close as he curses himself. She had a crush on me?! After all those years of Harry ruining my chances, I know fuck it up myself.
Holding his friends equally responsible for his screw up, Draco hexes Theodore and Mattheo, leading to total chaos in the slytherin common room. 
Lorenzo and Blaise take Mattheo to the astronomy tower to cool down and Theodore pours himself a glass of firewhiskey as his dead eyes watch Draco hold an ice pack against his jaw. “Does it hurt?” Iris asks and Draco nods. Theodore snorts. “Good.” Draco grits his teeth, glaring at Theodore and Iris scowls at Theo, who decides to keep quiet and take a sip from his drink. “Iris, you need to help me fix this with (y/n), please.” Draco begs with heartbroken eyes and a bruised jaw.
The weekend ended up being miserable for everyone. Draco even decided to skip the party, knowing that you wouldn’t talk to him at all; there really was no reason for him to be there. Feeling heartbroken and not in the mood to talk to anyone you hide in your room as well.
***
As instructed by Iris you wait for Draco in the hallway after potions class. “Again, Enz? 20 points.” Blaise sighs and Enzo raises his hands in defence. “I got distracted.” Mattheo sighs. “You spent every night with your girl, how can you not focus for one hour? I mean Theo doesn’t get distracted by staring at Ella.” Lorenzo frowns at Mattheo’s argument. “Theo always skips class.” 
You hear the sound of bickering between the guys ebb away into the distance and it makes you wonder what’s keeping Draco. He hadn’t left the classroom, so your eyes peek through the open door as you lean against the wall opposite of it. To your horror you spot Harry and Draco talking and instantly your heartbeat quickens. You push yourself off of the wall and take a step closer, studying the two as they talk. Draco seems unusually calm and Harry just nods a lot, when your brother’s eyes accidently land on you he gives you a soft smile and for some reason you immediately return it without knowing what it’s about. 
The next moment the both of them part and you take a step back, acting like you had just been obviously staring at them. “See you later, sis.” Is all Harry says and with confused eyes you watch his back. “Your brother and I made peace… for now at least.” Draco pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up at him. After a second you look down, remembering how he had snapped at you the other day and uninvited you for no reason. “Good.” You nod and force a smile. An awkward cough from Draco, before he puffs his chest a bit announces his apology. “About the other day, how I snapped at you- it was wrong. I- Theo and Matt, they said- No, it doesn’t even matter. I should’ve known better and shouldn’t have uninvited you. I guess, I just want to say I’m really sorry.” Now your forced smile turns genuine and your eyes light up. A soft laugh escapes Draco as he sees you smile at him with sweet eyes. “What did they say to get you so upset?” You ask and Draco snorts, remembering his own stupid overreaction. “Stupid things, I should’ve known better. I guess my insecurities got the better of me.” 
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You press your lips together and nod understandingly at his honest confession. “I’m glad we’re good again.” You tell him as your eyes lock with his and Draco can’t help but drown in your eyes, as he nods once in agreement. “I was… wondering-” Draco takes a deep breath as he searches for his courage to finish his sentence. “if, maybe you want to go to Madam Puttifoot with me?” A soft laugh rolls off your lips. “Puddifoot’s?” You question not believing you heard him right, the blond slytherin nods and you can’t hide the giddy smile on your face. You feel yourself blush madly. Puddifoot was a place for couples so it was obvious to you that Draco malfoy had just asked you on a date. With a flustered face you meet his eyes. “I would love that.” You whisper, afraid that if you said it any louder your excitement would be embarrassingly obvious. 
***
“Malfoy?” Ginny asks you for the 10th time and you sigh. “Yes, I’m going out with Draco Malfoy.” Her eyebrows knit together. “Malfoy?!” You groan and push her onto your bed as you walk past her to get your cutest jacket and finish your outfit. You check yourself out in the mirror and Luna speaks up. “I don’t think he's that bad.” Ginny frowns and even you don’t understand why she’s sticking up for him. When she sees Ginny’s judgy eyes, she explains herself. “I think blonds should support each other.” You laugh at her logic and turn around showing off your outfit. “What do you guys think?” Luna smiles. “Absolutely perfect.” Ginny crosses her arms. “Too pretty for a guy like him, but okay if you like him I’ll support you.” You laugh at her reluctance to say those last words. 
***
The date was perfect, you had enjoyed every second with Draco. The awkward walk to Hogsmeade when you were both still nervous. The first order at Madam Puttifoot’s when you finally relax and opened up more to each other. That last order had you feeling you had been friends since forever. The most magical moment, however, was when you left the cute cafe and Draco reached for your hand, gently holding it in his own hand. You meet his eyes and simultaneously you both lean closer towards each other, shoulders bumping as you walk together. Suddenly, your mind can’t help but wonder back to what got him so upset. “What did Riddle and Nott say?” Your question has Draco frowning and he bites his lip for a second as he struggles to confess. “They had me convinced that you were only being nice because you were worried about your brother, that you didn’t actually like me.” He says it in one breath and immediately looks away. You stop walking and Draco stops as well. Still looking away he squeezes your hand as he fears that you’re mad at him for thinking like that. He fears your hand will slip away and he’ll never hold it again. You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you, meeting your soft eyes. “Don’t ever think something like that again, Draco, because I really really like you.” Your voice is just above a whisper and Draco feels himself fall in love with you even more. 
When you lean in, lips getting dangerously close, Draco feels himself heat up and almost freaks out, but manages to pull himself together at the last second and meets your lips with more passion than you had expected. When the kiss ends you stay close to each other, smiling like love struck fools before Draco leans in for another even more intense kiss. However, your kiss is cut short when you hear someone call for you. “Ey! Ey!” You turn your head to see Harry, followed by Hermoine and Ron. As soon as you look at him his anger seems to subside and turn into something uncomfortable. “You… can do… what you… want… to do, but not where I can see it.” Draco’s first reaction is to get annoyed and grit his teeth. Then you better look away Potter. But when a soft giggle escapes you Draco relaxes. “Fine, we’ll just go back to the castle.” You look up at Draco, whose voice is calm but still has a frustrated tone to it. “G-Good.” Harry answers hesitantly. Hand in hand you and Draco walk away and Harry hears you laugh as Draco whispers something. Hermoine and Ron join Harry as he watches you. “Are sure it’s such a good idea to leave them alone.” Hermoine wonders out loud. “Why?” Harry asks, oblivious, and turns around to his friends. Ron gives him one obvious glance with raised eyebrows. “Because you know what people who are in love do when they're alone.” Panic fills Harry’s eyes as he sees Draco sling his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him.
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polkadotpenguin16 · 4 months ago
Text
The Five Stages of Grief: Denial
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Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader
Tags: more angst; language
Word count: 1,871
Previous parts: Prologue
You went from crying on your bathroom floor to your best friend’s kitchen. Floors seemed to be the best place for a mental breakdown. Your friend wasn’t much of a drinker, but she did have a couple boxes of white wine meant for cooking. She said this was a much better use.
It did the trick.
You couldn’t believe you just walked away from Sonny like that. But you felt like you had no other options. You’ve spent far too long in relationships, both romantic and platonic, being someone’s second choice. Waiting for them to choose you. You couldn’t do it again.
“And he just stood there trying to explain why he just HAD to help AMANDA tonight.” You were retelling the night’s events, a little tipsy from the shitty wine. “How could he think that was okay? Spending all night at some other woman’s house?! How can someone be so smart, and so cute, and so…fucking stupid?”
“Probably all that hair gel,” she suggested nonchalantly. “Too thick to let any commonsense in.”
That made you snort through your nose. She was always good at making heavy situations feel lighter.
“I’m really sorry, girlfriend. You deserve better.” She tenderly rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your broken heart. “But you know Sonny. He’s a little…thick…but he’s got a big heart. He just wants to help everyone. That’s why you fell in love with him, remember? Sonny the Superman?”
“Whatever.” You took another swig from the box. “It’s probably better this way.”
“Hey, now, you don’t mean that—”
“I DO mean that! I was never good enough for him!” You were getting animated, spilling wine everywhere. “You’re right—he’s Superman. He needs to be with somebody just as super. Someone he can fight crimes with. Or talk about his lawyer-y stuff with who actually understands him. I mean, who knows what the hell he’s talking about? He should come with a translator. And build a perfect life with them. Y’know, the two-and-a-half kids, a dog, and the white picket fence and shit!”
You started crying again. How did you have any tears left? “He deserves the best. And she’s it! Hell, he’s probably been in love with her since they met. Why he settled for a nobody like me in the first place, I’ll never know. I’m no superhero. My power is organizing spreadsheets and tripping over my own feet. He could have Wonder Woman. Why would he want to be stuck with…whoever the fuck Superman’s lame girlfriend is!”
Your friend was quiet, letting you vent and trying to find the right words. “I know it seems that way right now.” She softens her voice, forcing you to listen more intently to hear her. “That this is all doom and gloom. Just give it time. Have some grace. His love is genuine, and he never considered it settling. You’ll work everything out.”
Resting your head against the refrigerator, you sighed. “I don’t think this can be fixed, girl. Maybe…maybe it shouldn’t be.”
She leaned in for a hug, wrapping you tightly in her embrace. You sob into her shoulder, deeply leaning into her for support. You sat silently for a while, the same thought echoing over and over in your mind.
Maybe it’s better this way…
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Sonny was brought out of his trance by his alarm buzzing. He hadn’t slept at all. He just kept replaying what happened last night. It was in crystal clear high-definition in his head. How heartbroken you were. How hurt you were.
Then you just disappeared.
He hoped you’d text him when you got to your friend’s place like he asked. For his peace of mind and a sign that you didn’t completely hate him. Anxiously staring at his phone for much longer than he knew it would take you to get there, it felt like his heart was going to erupt from his chest. The list of horrific things that could’ve happened to you was getting too long. Desperate, Sonny texted your friend. He just had to know where you were. It wasn’t until after 2 in the morning that he got a reply.
Yeah she’s here.
Well, at least he knew you were safe. Still uneasy, he dared to ask if you were okay. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and it was reinforced by her response.
You think she’d be here if she was okay? Give her some time. When she’s ready, you better fix this mess you made.
This disconnect was torturing him. He wanted to fix things now. But your friend was right. He resigned himself to waiting until you came back later.
He tries his best to put himself together and heads to the precinct. Dragging his feet, he stumbled into the bullpen.
“You get hit by a bus on the way?” Rollins immediately noticed his haggard appearance. “You look like crap.”
“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered sitting at his desk, head in his hands, trying to collect himself.
“What, your girlfriend kick you out or something?” Fin joked from his seat.
“Actually, she left last night.”
“Wait, really?” Rollins was surprised to hear this. He made the two of you sound like a fairytale love story. You were his favorite topic and would bring you up in every conversation he could. She wondered what could have changed.
Fin glared at him suspiciously. “Whaddya do?”
Sonny took a deep breath. “I, uh, forgot about our date last night, and I, sorta…stood her up.” He was mentally kicking himself for being such a moron. The guilt made his stomach churn and his head throb.
“Dude...” Fin sat back in his chair and leered.
“I know, I know. I was helping Rollins, and I just—I spaced it. She packed a bag and went to stay with her friend.”
“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” Rollins tilted her head back and forth as she weighed out his actions. “But I get why she’d be upset. You should’ve told me you had plans, Carisi.”
Sonny buried his face deeper into his hands, feeling even guiltier.
“Stood her up? She ain’t ever gonna forget that, man,’” Fin remarked, rubbing salt into his wounds.
“But it’s gonna be fine.” Sonny sat up with a newfound determination. “We’ll talk tonight when she gets back. I’ll beg for forgiveness, and it’ll all work out.”
Rollins looked at him skeptically. “You sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure!” He huffed, astonished she would even ask. “Couples fight, it’s natural. They kiss, they make up, and things go back to how they were.”
“Most fights don’t include the girl leaving in the middle of the night,” Fin pointed out.
“She just—she needed some time to cool down.” You’ve always been able to resolve your arguments. They’d never been this intense before, but Sonny was confident this was all going to blow over. “She’s gonna come home and we’ll talk. I’m gonna fix this, and this will all have been a horrible dream.”
“If you say so.” Sounding unconvinced, she returned to her laptop.
Luckily, it was a slow day at the station. A rarity as of late. Sonny busted his hump finishing all his paperwork so he could ask Benson if he could head out early.
“Leaving so soon?” Rollins questioned as he put on his coat.
“Gotta run to the store and grab some things for dinner. I want everything to be perfect when she gets back.”
“I’d be picking up some flowers if I were you,” Fin advised as he sipped his coffee.
“That too—the whole nine yards.”
“Well, best of luck to you,” she hollered as he sprinted toward the elevator.
He went to the store and picked up everything to make chicken marsala. It was the first dish he ever cooked for you. He bought extra ingredients so he would have enough leftovers for you to have lunch for work tomorrow.
He swung by the flower stand to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorites. He planned out his apology in his head on the way back. Thinking of all the ways he messed up and how he would rectify them.
When he got home, he called out to you, but didn’t hear a response. Setting the bags down, he looked around the apartment to see that you weren’t home yet. Concerned, he checked his watch. It was a little early. You were probably still at work. He unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner.
After washing the produce and still no sign of you, worry started to creep in. He knew you needed some space last night, but surely, you’d come back soon. He was positive you missed him as much as he missed you. So, he decided to send you a text.
Hey doll, what time are you coming home? Getting dinner on the stove and want it to be ready when you get back.
There was no answer. Five minutes turned into ten. He chopped up the mushrooms and garlic and let them sauté in the pan before checking his phone. There was still nothing. He opened a bottle of beer to help settle his nerves. It was half-way gone when he checked again.
Still, nothing.
Not wanting to panic yet, he texted you again.
I’m sorry about last night. I really need to talk to you. I miss you.
Several more minutes passed. He could see the messages labeled as “read” on his phone. You just weren’t responding. Skipping past panic and going into full-blown hysteria, he fumbled with his phone trying to call you. He paced around the kitchen anxiously while listening to the phone ring.
Once. Twice. Three times.
He heard the call pick up after the fourth ring. But he couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. “Doll?” He asked hesitantly, wondering if you had actually answered.
He barely heard a whisper, “…yes…”
“Doll, are you okay?! When are you coming home?” He was frantic, talking a mile a minute. “Please come back! I’m really sorry and have to talk to you—I need to explain. We’ve gotta work this out. Just please—I need you to come home!”
You silently wept while listening to him ramble. You wanted to believe this could all be fixed, but your heart was telling you it would be futile. The cycle would just continue. What would happen the next time someone else needed him? Would you be enough?
“I’m sorry…” You were barely able to get your words out. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?!” It felt like his whole world was slipping through his fingers. Like water through a sieve. He was unable to stop it or even slow it down. “We have to fix this! Please come home!”
“I love you, but I just…” The line went quiet. He called out your name once, twice, but it was useless.
You were gone.
Sonny had never felt so defeated in his life. Slumping against the counter, he slammed his phone down. His eyes started to feel wet. He stood in the kitchen and quietly cried, taken aback by the fallout of one night. One mistake. One forgotten date.
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