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#I’m still trying to talk myself out of it a little maybe
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A Woman Like You Shouldn’t be Tucked Away
𖤐Pairing: Price x F! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: smut, fluff, language, mention misogyny, toxic ex-relationship, age gap, groping, blind date, kissing/making out, P in V, hand job, blowjob, strangers to lovers,
𖤐Summary: You try something new for once and that “something new” is blind dating, your friend had set you up with someone and you don’t know how you’ll feel about him
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Y/n’s foot taps the ground impatiently.
He’s late, she thought to herself. She had decided to step out of her comfort zone and she wanted to try something new and that was trying blind dating.
Y/n’s friend had met a guy trough a website that had connected you to Military people, she had met him and then had suggested Y/n to meet his friend who was looking to start dating again.
All she knew about him is that he is a widower. His wife had passed away from a heart attack and he thought about not dating again, but he wanted to get back into looking for someone again.
Y/n had thought about leaving a few times but gave him the benefit of the doubt and stayed for a little bit. Maybe he’s nervous because he’s meeting someone new? Who knows.
As her fingers ran around the rim of her wine glass someone had moved the chair in front of her, she jumps and looks up seeing a man.
“Are you John Price?” She asked.
“Yes…I’m sorry I’m late…just a bit nervous,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants.
“It’s okay…I’m nervous as well,” she says.
John had ordered his food and drink and they waited, there was close to no conversation, but every so often.
"My friend said...you're a widower?"
"Yep...trying to get back into the dating world again."
"How long was it since she passed?" Y/n asked, hoping it wasn't a touchy subject.
"6 years..."
"Wow. I'm sorry for your lost."
"It's okay...I'm okay," he says. "Tell me about you...did you date?"
"I dated my ex for 5 years..."
"Can I ask what happened for you two to break it off?" He asked.
"...He was...misogynistic."
"Oh wow...what would he say?"
"He wasn't like this in the beginning of our relationship. He started getting social media and then over time became very misogynistic, I use to make more money than him, and he started calling me names like a whore and slut because he accused me of selling pictures of myself for money, which wasn't the case." Y/n could go on and on about this ex of hers.
"Then...when I quit my old job because of some co-workers, and when I was looking for a new job he would tell me that I should stay home and be a good little housewife and do chores and make him his dinner before he gets home. So, I had enough and left him within a week because I was over it...sorry...I'm rambling," she says.
"No, no, it's okay, I understand...but a woman like you shouldn't be tucked away." He says.
Y/n's face started to heat up, she was blushing. "T-Thank you," she says with a soft smile of her face.
"Did he...do anything else?" He asked.
"He was just an asshole..." she says. Soon their food arrived and the waiter coming back to refill their drinks.
John hadn't eaten he was listening to Y/n as she talked, which was kind of crazy for Y/n...she hardly talked and most of the time no one listened to her, so it was surreal that someone like John Price was even listening to her or even looking her.
John then leaned forward, his rough calloused hands had touched her smooth, bare knee and then moving up to her soft plush thigh. She jumps and stops eating, putting her fork down and she looks up at John who was still looking at her.
She clears her throat. "A-Are you going to eat?" She asked him.
"I will," he says, his hands still touching her thigh and then soon his hands left her thigh and he starts to eat. In a way, Y/n didn't want his hand to leave her, with his touch she felt safe versus her ex who seem to only been with her for sex.
Soon after John and Y/n were done eating and Y/n wasn't drinking anymore. John then talks about his life and Y/n listens to him like he did with her, almost looking at him.
"Anyways...this was fun, Y/n."
"Really?" She says kind of surprised.
"Yeah...when you wanna meet for the second date?" He asked, giving her his phone and she put her number into his phone giving it back.
"Umm~ I-I don't know...I didn't think I'd even get this far," she gives him an awkward giggle.
"We'll talk about it..." he says
They both get up from the table and John walked with Y/n to her car opening the driver door for her.
"I'll text you later?" He says. She just nods.
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3 Months Later
Y/n laid on her stomach on with her book in her hands, an oversized shirt that was actually Price's. Price had asked Y/n to come stay the night with him every now and then.
Price had came out of the shower, towel around his waist and another rubbing his hair dry. Y/n didn't know Price had came out of the shower till she felt a semi wet hand on the back of her thigh, giving her a soft kiss.
"John?"
"Hmm?" He hums. She looks over her shoulder his hands going up her shirt and squeezing her butt earning a soft moan from her.
"What are you doing?" She asked. He doesn't answer but just keeps kissing her thighs. She moans and looks back at her book. The bed shifts and his legs are on either side of her.
Price leans over her kissing her neck and rubbing his hands up her shirt squeezing her breasts now. She just smiles at him and kissed his cheek.
"You smell good," she says.
"You do too."
"I smell like sweat," she says.
"Nah, you smell good," he repeats. Price then rubs himself against her. She moans throwing her head back, her head on his shoulder as his hand was under her chin kissing her jawline and cheek.
"Let me do the work," he says, kissing down her body. He removes his towel from his waist and then he lifts the bottom of her shirt up revealing her panties, he pulls them off her lower half, lifting herself up just a bit to make it easy for him.
He starts to pump himself a few times before gently sliding himself inside of her. Y/n was a moaning mess, mewling at his slow and soft thrusts. Price smirks at her sudden moans.
Since the day she met Price, he was always gentle with her, their second date was at the movies and he didn't leave her thigh alone the entire movie.
Their first time doing it together was soft and gentle, Price didn't want to hurt Y/n it's not something he'd do to a woman he's interested in.
Price held Y/n's hands above her head as he slightly started to pick up the pace, she moans and her legs wrap around his waist.
He picks up the pace, the time pulling her to his lap and helping her bounce on him, her hands resting on his shoulders, his hands resting on her butt squeezing her and kissing her neck, leaving behind a few small purple hickies.
Price loves this girl, who would hurt her is the question? Price then leaned forward their lips landing on each other, soft and gentle as he lays her back on her back and then starts moving faster and he feels her squeezing around him.
"Oh fuck!" He threw his head back.
"J-John," he leans down holding her head and kissing her lips.
He just smiles as he moves faster and faster, he sits up placing his hand on her lower stomach feeling his dick bulging from her stomach.
"Fuck," the both curse.
Y/n grabbed the bottom of her shirt lifting it up and putting the end in her mouth. She ended up coming, John felt it wanting to escape from her. He pulls out, he puts his head back and was catching his breath as Y/n was too.
Y/n let go of the end of her shirt and she felt like melting into the bed.
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2 Years Later
Y/n and Price were living together now. Price sat in the living room as Y/n was coming to the living room with a mug of hot tea for Price and one for her.
She sits next to him, she placed her mug on the coffee table in front of them, she smiles up at him as he was focused on the TV, she smirks and starts moving her hand onto his crotch rubbing him and watching as his face was becoming red.
"watch that hand of yours."
"Or what?" She teased, her hands then starts unbuckling his jeans a pulling his dick out and starts pumping him a few times. He groans and bucks his hips up into her hand.
Y/n looks up at him licking the corner of her mouth and leaning down licking his tip and kissing his tip as well. Price tries his best to look at the TV and distract his mind, but his little girlfriend was good at giving him head.
He tossed his head back, groaning and bucking his hips up. She slightly gags every time his tip hits the back of her throat. Y/n looks up at him through her hair.
"F-Fuck," he moans, leaning back and he placed his hand on the back of her head. She moves his hand away from her head and moved her mouth from his dick.
"Love," he groans. She just smiles and climbs on top of him and she moves her panties to the side and she slowly slides herself onto him.
"Fuck," they both moan.
"You are an evil woman."
"Me? Never," she smiles at him as she slowly grinds on him, earning a groan from his lips.
"Fuck me," he moans. She wanted to say something snarky but Price kisses her from saying anything. "No words from you," he says.
"Y-You don't even know what I-I was going to say," she teases.
"I already am," he says.
"Damn," she smiles kissing him.
"God I wanna come," he moans.
"Do it," she teased him. She was moving a bit faster on him, his hands holding her waist and he felt like coming inside of her.
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fire-lizard-ro · 3 days
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Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine
So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.
Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.
Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-
Anyways I will try my best.
Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶
I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.
It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!
No gender is mentioned for the reader.
CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶
Writing under the cut (SFW):
You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.
Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.
You picked up the phone.
“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.
You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”
You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.
The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.
Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.
“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”
“Seems it’s working, then.”
It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.
And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.
“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”
A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.
“Hiya, darling dearest~”
“Aventurine.”
“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”
You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.
“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”
Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”
He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.
“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”
Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.
You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”
He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.
“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
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latinokaeya-moving · 1 year
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what do you guys think kaeyas horse would be called :-)
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8rujaa · 9 days
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okay, i might let people in
#i’ve been nonstop talking to this person for a few days now#like nonstop we’ll have multiple convos going at once and having to use voice messages to catch up to everything lol#our conversations have yet to die since the first one we’ve had#it feels very very very refreshing to find someone who can keep up#and we have so many things in common but like i’ve always found myself to be a lil weird and have out of the ordinary interests#not trying to say that ‘i’m not like other girls’ LMFAO but it’s hard to find ppl with this many things in common#like one or two things i get but we’ve been able to connect on so many things#even like chronic pain which like is nice to find someone who understands#so now i’m like actually excited for the first time about meeting someone#i’m very very excited and they’re so so so sweet#i feel like i can always tell who’s been in therapy because we tend to carry conversations in a similar way … does that make sense??? 🤣#like u know how there’s ‘gentle parenting’#i feel like there’s a specific way people who have been in therapy speak to others#they’re always so mindful of boundaries and also reciprocal#in conversations#we also have the same taste in music which is wild cuz i listen to every genre in existence and music from many different languages/culture#our spotify blend goes crazy 🤣🤣#we’ve only been talking for a week so i’m trying not to get my hopes up but im just excited 😆😆😆#lmao but like even if we just end up becoming friends i’m still happy to meet someone who’s so similar :D#i’ve been wanting friends who also struggle with the same things so we can do selfcare things together or maybe just chill on high pain day#and we will know how to be there for each other a little better than ppl who don’t get it.. i crave that real bad 🥲#i realize i sound delulu as fuck cuz i haven’t even met them in person but i can already tell we’re going to get along 😌😌😌😌#i’m aware of how delulu i sound and maybe i’m getting my hopes up but it truly does feel like i was waiting for someone like this 🥹
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floral-hex · 1 month
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woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.
#tumblr ate something like this but I think I deserve to shout uselessly into the void#shits rough dawg#I know it’s rough for everyone. I feel shitty even talking about myself. still… compelled to vent… big butts#haven’t really been on here much since it hasn’t really scratched that itch lately & just makes me feel lonelier#it’s cold#saw the Jazzercise studio open across the street. 5am for Jazzercise? wow. early.#and then everyone left an hour and a half later. lights out. everybody gone. weird schedule. I am perplexed.#went down the road and got a soda and I’ve been sitting in my driveway contemplating for the last 2.5 hours#guy at the gas station tried to talk to me but I just half assed a smile and nod and left#even though I know I’d love to just… talk to someone. I suppose it has to be ‘on my terms’ whatever those are#I miss having a therapist. or even just when my little brothers would talk to me. when anyone would. blegh#my insurance is still a mess and I’m about to run out of one of my blood pressure meds this week#maybe I’ll have a stroke. scary to think about. I think about dying a lot but that potential feels too real. just… pop! and I’m done.#I’ll try today to finally push to straighten it out but everything feels daunting#woke up with so much anxiety. about my health. my hearing. no money. my life. had to get out of the house even if it’s just right outside#hate to say it but I need(want) thc. haven’t wanted to spend money on it but I could have really used it this morning#can’t be sad if you can’t feel anything (jokingly but also not. whichever is less sad sounding)#actually treated myself to Dune 2 last week and it was so so good. wish I could go again. but it’s drugs food or movie right now. so…#I know. dumb priority but BIG SCREEN. maybe it’ll hit theaters again for the next awards season hopefully. just a real nice loud experience#anyway… I should go inside. almost 7am. need to take my brothers to school then drive my mom to her daily appointments#I’ve felt so hollow and angry and sad for so long it feels like. I feels so weak and sad and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired.#I’ve been eating about 1 meal a day and sleeping a lot. this is the worst my body has ever been. I feel like I’m just waiting to die.#is this relatable?#just have to look past it. it is nothing. this body is nothing. just enjoy your soda.#gonna look at pictures of butts now#ok gotta go I love you goodbye forever#you can ignore this#text
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insanechayne · 7 months
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~ ~ ~
#seems like I’m only going to get one message from you today which kinda sucks since you told me you didn’t really do much the whole day#reasonably you had time to talk to me at least a little bit more#I’ve only been begging for more time with you for weeks on end until it caused a fight but whatever#and I hate that this kind of thing even bothers me because why should I still care so much about how little or how much we talk?#I should be able to distance myself from you the way you do from me and have it not affect me at all#and yet apparently I still feel something for you and am still desperate for your attention and I don’t know how to make that stop#I still think about you every day all the time even when I don’t want to and I can’t make that stop either#it makes me feel so guilty because this is how I should be feeling for my girlfriend and yet it isn’t#I can say maybe that’s because I do see her all the time and talk to her often and we’re barely ever apart#but at the same time I know it’s because some part of me still yearns for you even though I can’t have you and that kills me#talking about the stupid day to day shit and wondering is this all there is for us? forever?#wondering if you ever think about me the way I think about you or feel tempted like I do#hearing you complain about the same things that brought us together in the first place and hating that part of me hopes it’ll bring you back#but also hurting so much because I know things can’t go back to the way they were and you don’t care for me like you used to#the anxiety and the stress and the pain are almost unbearable sometimes#and I’m just trying to go about my life like this isn’t twisting a knife in my guts every second of the day#I wonder sometimes if it would be better to just end our friendship and shut you out completely#out of sight out of mind right? can’t keep thinking about you if I can’t talk to you#but I just feel like that would make it worse and I don’t want to lose anyone else again#but there are ways my girlfriend just can’t fulfill me and I hate feeling like someday I’ll have to choose between all the parts of myself#deciding which parts of me get to be happy and complete because I just don’t get to have it all apparently#and she’s so amazing and wonderful and I love her so much I honestly do#she makes my heart feel full and makes me feel like I’m actually loved so much for once#and yet there’s still something missing and I can’t make this full connection with her and it just makes me feel guilty#I just don’t know what to do anymore because this is all driving me fucking insane#personal
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dr3c0mix · 4 months
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Bloody Red Roses
Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader
CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now
👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.
👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.
👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.
👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!
👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!
👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.
👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.
👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”
👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess
👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.
👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear
👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.
👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.
👑 “…”
👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”
👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”
👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.
👑 “Hm…”
👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.
👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?
👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.
👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.
👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.
👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.
👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”
👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.
👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..
👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.
👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..
👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)
👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.
👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..
👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”
👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.
👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless
👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”
👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..
👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”
👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…
👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him
👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys
👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”
👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.
👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!
👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”
👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.
👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!
👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.
👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.
👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”
👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch
👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!
👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!
👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”
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It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq
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madigoround · 1 year
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🙃
#I can’t remember if I’ve talked about it publicly on here but spark notes version and then we’re going to move on because it is relevant to#the issue at hand: when I was a kid not only did my parents abuse me and my sister but they also abused animals and mostly it was just that#they were neglected and starved to death but there was also a lot of my dad kicking the animals and my mom throwing the ones that she could#pick up across the room in anger and sometimes they would hit things and like generally stuff like that and I always knew it was wrong#it always scared me right? but I didn’t understand how wrong at the time because I kind of just thought everyone’s parents must beat the#shit out of animals just like I kind of thought everyone’s parents abused them a little bit#and then when I became an adult and got away and lived with other people with pets I realized how much people care about their pets and like#to the extent that they will buy all this extra stuff for them just because and treat them to all kinds of shit like doggy daycare#and more than anything I was just confused and I still am pretty much because it wasn’t right but I was taught that animals don’t matter and#my example of how to treat them was more like objects than living beings and I don’t agree with that I know that’s not kind and I’ve read a#ton of books on the right way to treat animals because I don’t want to be like my parents so like I’m trying right? like I’m genuinely#trying to be better I promise you but here’s the part that’s really bothering me that I’m not sure I can tell people in real life because I#don’t think someone who didn’t grow up like me would understand? and like I’m glad most people didn’t grow up like me but im just talking to#myself here and maybe someone will see this that understands: I think there’s something broken in my brain#and I can’t feel that like thing everyone seems to have about their pets I’ve been talking to people all week about how it’s a trial run and#im not sure im going to keep her and everyone has been emphatically telling me that their lives are so much better because of their pets and#they tell me about all this hardship they’ve gone through to give their pets nice things and whatnot or to clean up after them when they#destroy their belongings but you know it’s SO WORTH IT and I feel like something is broken in me because I don’t feel that way about any#animal like I enjoy petting animals and I enjoy giving them love but and here’s a part I feel really bad about I would be just fine if this#cat wasn’t here I am just fine on my own and they seem like more effort than they’re worth kind of I mean she is causing hell and I am being#patient I am cleaning up after her diligently I am reading the articles on how to make her separation anxiety better I am trying to be a#good pet parent and I just don’t feel it like she’s a lovely cat she’s so sweet even if she’s a menace and a problem causer but I don’t feel#what everyone else seems to feel and I’m confused and hurt and I feel broken#I don’t understand what else I could do to be better
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arieslost · 17 days
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talk | op81
summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.
word count: 1,276
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.
that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.
before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.
the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.
it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.
that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.
“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.
“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.
it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.
“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.
“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”
“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.
“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.
“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”
“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.
“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”
“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.
you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.
which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.
“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”
well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.
“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”
“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”
“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.
“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.
“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”
“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”
you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.
“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.
the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”
“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”
“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”
“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”
“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.
“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.
“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”
“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”
you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.
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note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @lightsoutletsgo
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ozzgin · 18 days
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Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons
I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere
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You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”
Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”
He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.
The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."
Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.
"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."
As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.
"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"
He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.
The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.
He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.
"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."
He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.
He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.
Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.
The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.
He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.
After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.
His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.
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weird-and-unwell · 3 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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dakotalun · 9 months
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"Oops" | Eddie Munson
pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
summary: Part 2--Reader now confronts Eddie about his text last week. Feelings are spilled and sheets are ruined.
warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets, honey), dom!eddie, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation (brat, slut, whore, cockslut), squirting, aftercare
word count: 3.8k
a/n: This is part 2 to "Oops", which we now get into the real reason you all are here.
Part 1
*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******
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He had to lie about talking to Callie from chem but it was better than the truth. He knew then that you didn’t feel the same way as him, and it hurt him. He meant to delete the photo after you ended the call but his mind was too clouded so he took a walk and forgot about it later on. If only he knew what you did that night looking at said photo.
“The truth?” Eddie didn’t know why there was this sudden burst of courage rushing through him, maybe it was the beers, or the weed or maybe it was just the fact that he needed to tell you how he felt, no matter what your answer was.
You nod your head at his question, turning to get a good look at him. His eyes were shut as he leaned against the wall, his neck stretched enough to show his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.
“Yes.” You’re confused for a second, yes he didn’t know or yes he did know? “I knew it was you, I mean.” 
Oh. Oh, OH! Your brain scrambles thinking back to the picture and the text, ‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you’. That’s what the text said, so did that mean it was you he was jerking off to?
“So the text…”
“Was about you. Yeah.” His shoulders rise a little before falling, like a weight had literally been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes are still closed, scared that if he opens them he’ll be met with a grin on your face before you laugh at him.
“Eddie,” You say softly, moving to sit up on your knees. He doesn’t open his eyes or move his head, “Eds. Look at me.”
You scooch forward, sitting next to him, your thigh touching his own. His eyes crack open at the touch, his gaze locked at the ceiling still.
You reach your hand up and cup his cheek, guiding his face to look at yours. His eyes are glossy, like he’s trying not to cry. You give him a soft smile, your own eyes begin to well up with tears. 
“I need you to listen to me, got it?” You wait for him to nod before continuing, “I love you Eddie. Both as a friend and more. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you sent that photo, that wonderful, hot, sexy photo,” He tries to move his head away but you pull it back to you, “That photo that I ended up looking at as I made myself cum that night.” That caught his attention. He opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to stop him, resuming your speech.
“Eddie, why didn’t you just tell me you liked me? I wouldn't laugh at you or anything, if anything I’d probably realize I did too. I just don’t understand why you had to do that to tell me. Not that I didn’t love it, I did. Just, I need you to say it.”
He looks at you for a second more, making sure you’re done talking before speaking himself.
“Sweetheart,” His hand reaches up to hold your own, the one on his cheek, “If I’m being completely, 100% transparent with you. I didn’t think I was worth your time. You are way out of my league and the fact that you chose to stick by me all these years just made it even harder not to fall for you. But you,” He squeezes your hand, “You are the one I want to be with. Always have been, always will be. I don’t want anyone else. I love you so damn much baby.”
The new pet name made a smile creep onto your face, the tears finally breaking the barrier and spilling down your face. 
This man, your best friend, the one you didn’t know you loved as much as you truly did until a week ago, loves you back. You’re so happy that he loves you back that you can’t even stop yourself before you launch forward and pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, your soft lips meeting his chapped ones, a perfect pairing.
You pull away after a few seconds, needing to breathe. Your foreheads are touching as you stare at each other, love and lust filling your eyes.
“Can I kiss you again?” You nod and Eddie leans in for another kiss. This one being harder than the other, more passion and lust thrown in. Eddie’s tongue brushes over your bottom lip, wishing for access that you give without a second thought.
You moan at the feeling of his tongue meeting yours, the taste of weed, beer and pizza still lingering. Eddie’s hand moves from its place over yours and to your waist, being met quickly with his other. He holds you tightly, afraid that if he didn’t you’d slip away from his grasp. You move your leg over his going to straddle his thighs. He helps you situate yourself on top of his lap, lips never once disconnecting.
The new position lets you feel just how hard he is under his sweats, the boner that you’ve only ever seen through a screen under only a few layers of clothing. You start to grind your hips on him, making him groan into your mouth at the friction. His hands move down to your hips, helping your movements, while yours tangle themselves in his hair, feeling just how soft it really is.
You grab a handful of it at the base of his neck, pulling lightly as you continue making out and grinding on him. On one particularly rough thrust, his sweats hit that perfect spot on your clit making you moan into his mouth and pull his hair hard. He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, which makes you smile into the kisses, now knowing a little secret about him.
“Shit baby,” Eddie breathlessly says as he pulls away from you, “Need to taste you. Please.”
The words go straight to your core, making the wet patch between your thighs grow.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“I want- I need to. Been dreaming of this forever,” He pulls further from your face, gauging your reaction, “Will you let me take care of you?”
You nod your head, “Words baby. I need words.”
“Yes, please Eddie.” The words come out more whiny than you’d wanted but you could care less at this point, all you can think about is him between your thighs.
Eddie flips the both of you over, laying you down so your head is on his pillows. He goes back to kissing you, leaving kisses all over. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, before roaming further down, to your neck, sucking little hickeys wherever he goes.
You just lay there relishing in the feeling of his mouth on you, your hands still in his hair. He glides down to your collarbone, sucking another hickey there. His hands are sliding all over your body, up your thighs, gripping your hips, towards your waist, pushing the shirt you have on up, exposing more skin to him.
“Can I take this off princess?” He looks at you, his big brown eyes almost black with lust.
Without responding you sit up quickly and yank the shirt off of your body, tossing it somewhere on his floor. You lay back down, now in only your underwear in front of him. There’s something about Eddie still being fully clothed while you were there basically naked in front of him that turned you on more.
“Jesus, princess. You’re so damn pretty,” He guides his hands towards your boobs, looking at you for permission, which you give, before palming them, “These perfect goddamn tits.” 
He leans down and starts sucking on one, kissing it softly at first before taking the nipple into his mouth, nipping it lightly. The other is being rolled between his fingers, pulling delicious moans and whimpers from you. He removes his mouth from one with a pop before giving the other the same treatment.
You try to buck your hips up into him, needing some type of friction, but his weight stops any possible movements. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and it’s driving you crazy not being able to see it, and have it inside you. Eddie bites a little harder causing you to scream out in pleasure/pain.
“That’s it baby. Let me hear you, I want every little moan and whimper,” He’s smiling at you as he goes back to trailing kisses down your body. He stops just at the waistline of your panties, slipping one finger through, pulling it back just to release and snap it against you.
You moan out, the slight sting feeling good. Your eyes followed him as he continued down, kissing your hips, and thighs. The teasing is driving you crazy but it feels so good at the same time, you love the feeling of Eddie’s lips on you. Eddie reaches your knee, planting a light kiss there before pulling away from you completely.
“You sure about this? We can stop now if you want,” His words seemingly far away in your ears.
You look at him and shake your head, his hair is disheveled from your fingers raking through it, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you, his sweats are tented containing the thing you want most right now. You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you as you reach for the hem of his shirt.
You tug at it until he gets the hint and pulls it over his head, tossing it down next to yours. Your eyes roam over his chest, eyeing the dark tattoos that contrast with his fair skin. You let your fingers wander over them, tracing the outlines and shapes etched into the skin forever. Eddie’s breathing quickens at the feeling of your fingers on him, he swears he could watch you do this all day but right now he needed to taste the girl of his dreams.
He grabs your wrists lightly, pulling them away from him much to both of your protest.
“Please, let me taste you. I wanna make you feel good,” He pleads with you for the second time that night. You stare at him above you before you look down at the ground; you’re scared now because you’ve never had someone go down on you, especially since you’ve only ever had one boyfriend who thought about himself more than you.
Your hesitation makes Eddie worried, he squats down in front of you to be in your eyeline.
“We don’t have to go any further. I’m okay with just going to bed now if that’s what you want.”
“No!” You quickly reply, “No I- I want this.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to.” His eyes are soft, caring and full of truth.
You nod your head, “I want this Eds. I’ve just-” You sigh, “I’ve never had anyone…you know, go down on me.”
Eddie’s eyes widen at your words. He knows you dated someone a few years ago, assuming that the both of you did a lot together. But knowing this only fueled his need to please you more.
“Then let me be the first. I promise it’ll be amazing, for both of us,” He grabs a hold of your hands, “I want to make you feel amazing. Will you let me?”
You look at him, the lust in your eyes turning to pure unbridled love for the man in front of you. You nod your head, “Yes, I trust you.”
A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face as he goes back to his full height. “Lay back down for me sweet girl.” You follow his instructions, resuming your previous position on his bed. Legs wide and waiting for him.
He crawls over you, kissing his way towards your mouth. He plants one on you that has you moaning and bucking your hips into him again. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away and kneeling down so he’s eye level with your dripping cunt. His hands move like feathers over your skin reaching your underwear and slowly peeling them off of you.
His eyes never leave yours, making sure you’re comfortable as he pulls them off of you and throws them behind himself. Once he knows you’re safe and good he kisses up your thighs, towards your core.
You whine under him, he’s going too slow. You need his mouth on you and now. Eddie finally places the gentlest of kisses to your clit, pulling a squeal out of you before you buck your hips up in return. He smiles and goes in, licking and sucking the little bud until you’re a writhing mess under him.
Then he moves his tongue down, circling your hole a few times before slowly inserting it. He groans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his hips rutting against the bed as he enjoys this just as much if not more than you.
The feeling of him inside of you, even if it is just his tongue is amazing and you can’t wait for more. Once Eddie thinks you are warmed up enough he glides his hand up to meet his mouth, replacing his tongue with one finger. The stretch it gives you is so new and pleasurable, once you get past the slight pain of it all.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking my finger so well, think you can take another one? Hmm?” Eddie looks back up at you wanting to see you fall apart for him. You nod frantically and mewl at his question, falling deep into the pleasure he’s giving you.
“Aw look at you, already so cock drunk and I’ve not even given it to you yet. You gonna be a good girl for me and take another finger so I can stretch you out for this cock?”
“Yes, please. Ed-” Once the word leaves your mouth another finger enters you, the pain shooting through you before being taken over by blinding pleasure.
Eddie pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you, yet. But all you want is to cum, to feel yourself fall apart at his doing. The feeling of your core tightening signals both you and Eddie of what’s about to happen.
Eddie then attaches his lips to your clit again, sending you over the edge, cumming all over his fingers and face. He pumps his fingers until he feels you loosen around him then takes them out.
“God you taste so damn good sweetheart,” He crawls back on top of you, face to face before guiding his fingers that were inside of you to your mouth, “Taste yourself baby.”
You oblige and open your mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He groans at the sight, the way your eyes roll back and you moan around his fingers. He pulls them out because if he didn’t he was sure he’d cum just watching you like that.
Eddie goes to take off his sweats but you stop him, “I wanna make you feel good too Eds.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, he’s thought of your pretty little lips around him so much and you offering it right now is like heaven but he knows that the moment your mouth touches him he won’t be able to hold back. “Sweets, you have no idea how much I want to watch that but right now I need to be inside of you. I’ve waited long enough, you can suck me off another time, promise.”
He kisses you then pulls his sweats down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, red and leaking precum just like the photo. You can’t stop yourself once you see it, you reach out and take it into your hands, stroking it slowly, softly, taking your time to relish in the feeling of your hand around him.
Eddie seems to be doing the same thing, moans and groans falling from his lips until his hand grips your wrist to stop your movements, “Gotta stop baby, or else I’ll bust right now.” He laughs a little before leaning down to give you a small peck on the lips.
He lifts himself up onto his hands and reaches for his bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small, aluminum square. He rips it open with his teeth before sliding the latex over his hard on, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.
He looks up at you, eyes locking, “You sure about this? We can still stop.” He’s so sweet and kind it makes your heart ache. You place your hand on his cheek, he leans into the touch.
“Please Eddie. I’ve never wanted anything more.” You give him a kiss, filled with love and lust and passion. With that he slowly pushes in, just the tip to get you used to the girth of him.
Your head falls back onto his pillows, one hand moving to grip his hair the other his back. He pushes in a little more, inch by inch until he is finally all the way in. The groan he releases when he feels you clench around him, getting used to his size, is like music to your ears. A song that you could listen to on repeat for hours on end.
“Need you- need you to move Ed, please.”
“Gimme a sec baby, wanna make this last.”
A few seconds later he pulls out only an inch or two before going back into the hilt. The feeling of him moving sends shivers down your spine, loving every moment of it. He gains more confidence and pulls out all the way to the tip before slamming back into you. The way your tits move from the force makes Eddie’s mind go blank.
Eddie’s pace is slow and rhythmic, just trying to let you adjust to him, but you need more.
“Faster Eddie. Faster.” It falls out of you as a moan, barely audible to yourself but he hears it and grants your wish picking up the pace. Your moans grow louder as his pace speeds, you start mumbling incoherent things.
“Good girl, take this cock like the little slut you are. Bet you love it when I call you my little slut huh?” You squeeze around him at his words, “Oh I felt that baby. You like it when I degrade you don’t you my little whore, hmm? Gonna always be the little cockslut that I know you are. Falling apart with me inside of you.” 
You’re not even trying to hold anything back at this point, the feelings being too good to try to stop, “God Eddie you feel so good. You’re so big, dammit!” He hits that sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolled back and mouth wide open but nothing coming out.
“Oh, is that the spot honey? That the spot that makes you feel good?” He moves against you to hit that spot over and over again. Your brain goes numb, not registering anything that’s happening around you, too shrouded in pleasure to care.
Eddie’s talking to you but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Next thing you know he’s circling your clit with his fingers again, pulling a particularly loud whine out of you.
“Ed, I’m gonna- Shit! Feel like I’m gonna pee, gotta stop.”
“Oh but sweetheart that’s what I want you to do, wanna see you cum and squirt all over this cock of yours. Come on cum for me baby girl. I know you got one more in you.”
His words ring in your ears, but they sound so far away. The feeling of his hand gripping your hip and the fingers on your clit and the dick inside of you all becoming too much and you just let go. There’s a gushing sound as Eddie pounds into you faster and harder, now chasing his own orgasm. It rips through him just as hard as yours did you, his white sperm spilling into the condom. A small part of you wishes it wasn’t there, to feel his seed inside of you, maybe even have it stay there until you get pregnant.
Eddie collapses on top of you, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s planting small kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, waiting out the wave of pleasure that just overtook the both of you. Sooner than you’d like he’s getting up and pulling out of you, making you whine at the loss of him.
He exits the room for a short amount of time, returning to you in the same position. He starts to wipe you clean with a warm towel, being careful of your sensitive clit before pulling your shirt and underwear back on you. He puts his own clothes on, neglecting his shirt this time around. He goes to the side of you, picking you up bridal style and carrying you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.
He returns to his room to change his sheets and lay a towel down to soak up what seeped through. Once his sheets are changed he goes back to get you and places you back in his bed, pulling the covers up over you. He gets you a glass of water for when you regain consciousness and some pain killers he knows you’ll probably need.
Eddie gets in beside you, pulling you close, rubbing your arm as you breathe softly into him. A few minutes pass before you start to open your eyes. He looks down at you, brushing some hair away from your face.
“Hey there you are. How’s my girl doin’?” That smile you love so much is spread across his face.
“Mm, tired. Sore. And very happy.”
“I got you some water and painkillers,” He reaches over and grabs them from his bedside table, “Take these and drink this.”
You sit up a little and do as he says, drinking all of the water in the cup before resuming your position curled up at Eddie’s side.
“So how was it?” A smirk on his face.
“Eh, it was okay I guess. I’ve had better.” Eddie scoffs and hits your arm lightly, which just makes you giggle.
“Damn guess I gotta kill you now. Can’t have you going around telling people I’m only okay in bed,” He retorts back.
You look up at him, “And who else do you think you’ll be sleeping with? Cause if it’s not only me then I’ll keep my promise of castrating you.”
“Oh so you want to do it again, even after it was just okay?” You slap him in the chest.
“I’d do it a million more times if it feels that good after every one,” You say before giving him a kiss, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Already am sweetheart,” You give a quizzical look, “Since the day I met you I was yours. Always will be.”
You smile at his words, planting another kiss on his lips, “And I’ll always be yours.”
Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn
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gimmethatagustd · 4 months
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gang shit | knj
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Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.
○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader
○ Rating: Sfw
○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor
○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)
○ Word Count: 1204
○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples
○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨
○ Post Date: January 1, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i
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“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm. 
You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please. 
Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?
“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest. 
You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”
Apparently, that was offensive.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip. 
“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man. 
“Did she?” 
“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”
“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…” 
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. 
You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually! 
“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?” 
“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.
You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck. 
“She’s adorable,” you say softly. 
“She’s weird as shit.” 
Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs. 
“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.” 
“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”
“Yup.” 
Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown. 
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” 
“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?” 
You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids. 
“Plus, I like being the fun parent.” 
“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals. 
“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you. 
“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.” 
Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised. 
“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence. 
“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.” 
With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are. 
“You’re the one who–” 
“HEY! NO HITTING!” 
Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck. 
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology. 
“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager. 
“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”
It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around. 
“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon. 
“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.” 
“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye. 
“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”
“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist. 
“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?” 
Oh.
“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.” 
Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months
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[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist
“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.
Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”
But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?
“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”
“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”
Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.
“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”
You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”
You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.
You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.
You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”
You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.
“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”
You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.
“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”
A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.
“So you’ve never, ever—?”
“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.
Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”
He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”
“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.
You nodded again.
“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.
You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.
“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”
You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.
“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”
It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.
Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.
“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”
“I do?”
Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”
“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.
“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”
“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”
You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.
“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”
You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.
“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.
“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”
Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.
“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.
His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”
You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”
There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.
“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”
So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.
“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”
You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.
“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”
If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.
“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”
You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.
“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”
You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.
“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.
It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.
“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.
“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”
“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.
But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”
You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.
Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.
“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”
You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.
Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.
“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”
Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”
You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.
“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”
You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.
“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”
You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.
“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”
You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.
“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”
Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.
“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”
Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”
You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.
Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.
You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.
“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”
“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”
But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.
He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?
Right?
“Want me to help?”
He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”
“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”
He’d died. He was dead.
But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.
He was rock fucking hard.
“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”
His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.
“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”
“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.
Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.
“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”
You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”
Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.
“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”
You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.
Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—
“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”
He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.
Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.
“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.
“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.
“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”
Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.
“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.
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floral-hex · 7 months
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Constantly regretting not joining a local Cyberpunk Red game when I had the chance.
#I’m bored! I’m boring!#I need to get out of the house more#so anyway months ago someone advertised online that they were going to start a game in town#which would be awesome. cool. I even applied (filled out a cute little survey)#buuuuut I never responded when they tried to get back to me#I still have so much anxiety about my hearing loss#I’m afraid to join a group of strangers and just feel awkward and humiliated the whole time if I can’t hear them#big scaredy cat#of course my therapist would say (and has said many many times) not to reject myself before someone else has a chance to#or whatever. you get what I’m saying?#I should have at least tried to talk about it with the person#TO BE FAIR! tbf tho I was going through a big move and my mother’s health issues so it probably would have been so shitty keeping up#BUT who knows. maybe it could have worked out. we’ll never know bc I didn’t try#so I guess the moral is… I dunno. shit MIGHT be shitty in the end but it could also be great… so… do it… I guess…🤷🏻‍♂️#that sounds so fun tho. joining a ttrpg group#I used to play homebrews with my friends in high school and it was so fun#just hanging out in the garage. lots of snacks. playing d&d. good times.#I tried to play d&d (dnd?) with my brothers before but they were pretty young back then#anyway… yeah… might look into finding a group to play with#I don’t have a laptop that can really use for online play but who knows. there are a few game stores in the area. gotta be people out there#don’t let your dreams be dreams#anybody play ttrpgs in central arkansas?#that’s not a weird creep I mean#is that mean? I mean I’m weird and maybe kind of creepy. who am I to judge.#I just don’t want to play with a group of assholes or whatever#okay okay sorry I will play with you creeps and weirdos. I’m sorry.#ok I love you goodbye forever#you can ignore this#text
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sanguineterrain · 4 months
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restroom attendant | jason todd
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Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.
A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)
the divider
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Tonight sucks. 
With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 
Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.
You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 
You’re starting to think this city is cursed.
The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.
A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 
Yep. Definitely cursed.
"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."
He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 
"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 
"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”
“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”
“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"
Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.
"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 
"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."
Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.
“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 
Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.
“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”
“No,” you say, voice shaky.
His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”
“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”
Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 
“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 
“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 
“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 
“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”
Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 
“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”
“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 
Hood jerks, turning back to you.
“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”
You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”
He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 
“How come?” Hood asks.
You shake your head. “It's nothing.”
“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”
“I'm not in danger. I…”
You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.
What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 
“I got dumped,” you say. 
“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”
Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.
You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”
You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.
“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”
“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 
“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 
“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.
Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”
You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 
Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”
You catch your breath and wave your hand. 
“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”
“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”
“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”
You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.
“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”
You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”
“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”
“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 
“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”
Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.
“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”
You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”
“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”
You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”
“You’d win that bet. But I—”
The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 
“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”
Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 
He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”
You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”
Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”
“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”
He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 
You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 
Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.
“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”
“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”
“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.
“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”
“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”
He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 
“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”
Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.
“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”
Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 
Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 
You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.
“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 
“I didn’t order this,” you say.
“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 
“Oh. Thank you.”
You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.
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