That post about Marcille and Laios' relationship actually got me thinking about Chilchuck and Laios' relationship. Which is harder to see in some ways because it mostly consists of positive absences.
At first, viewers might be inclined to wonder why Chilchuck sticks with the party. He says it's because he took payment up front, but he could give back part of the deposit and leave. Two other party members left; Laios explicitly gave Marcille and Chilchuck a choice as to whether they would stay or go, and they both chose to stay.
We know why Marcille chose to stay; she wants to save Falin and she considers the other party members her friends. Why did Chilchuck stay?
Chilchuck actually respects Laios a lot -- food and monster weirdness aside -- and that mostly comes I think through the positive absences from above. The things that Laios does not do.
Laios doesn't deliberately expose Chilchuck to danger or regard him as expendable. When Chilchuck starts to get enthralled by the sirens' song, Laios immediately snaps him out of it. Contrast that to Chilchuck relating that other adventuring parties will sometimes bring half-foots along just to sacrifice them or use them as bait!
Laios doesn't insist that Chilchuck put himself in danger by getting into combat. Even in situations where they're in danger and could really use more combatants, he only ever asks Chilchuck to take on non-combat tasks such as creating distractions.
Laios doesn't get in the way when Chilchuck is working and follows his directives of what to do around traps. He respects Chilchuck's work so much that he will even hand over his sword without hesitation, even when doing such a thing causes it to be damaged!
Laios doesn't press Chilchuck to divulge private information. When Chilchuck says he doesn't mix his professional and private lives, Laios respects that and doesn't push.
All the other party members infringe on these boundaries in some way. Izutsumi tries to egg Chilchuck into combat; Marcille pries into his home life; Senshi deliberately provokes him when he's trying to work. Not Laios. Once Chilchuck sets a boundary, Laios does his best to always respect it. (And I think Laios appreciates having clearly defined Rules For Chilchuck.)
Laios is a good party leader and he takes care of his team. Maybe this is my age showing, but when you find yourself in a good work situation with a good boss, you stay in that job.
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i come barring a request for a poly!maraudersđ«Ąđ
idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend weâre having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and sheâs roommates with lily so sheâs used to but then the boys see theyâre all thrown off and slightly worried.
now i bid you good day my lady đ«Ą
I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for
poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat
Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.
âSorry to disappoint boys.â She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.
âOh, weâre always happy to see you, Lily.â James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled âyou should beâ, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.
âHey!â Lily called down the hall. âThe boys are here!â
Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. âOkay thanks! Iâm almost ready!â
The boys were very excited, if Jamesâ knee bouncing and Siriusâ impish smirk wasnât obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought youâd get along really well with the group of friends, and sheâd been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if youâd be at the next one.
Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.
The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.
âWhere are you guys going tonight?â Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.
âWeâre going to the pub on 42nd.â James answered readily.Â
âThe one with the board games and vintage video games?â Lily clarified.Â
âYup. That way thereâs something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.â Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Siriusâ smaller frame.
âDonât tease the lad.â Lily admonished playfully. âHeâs already likely nervous enough. I donât think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.â
Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lilyâs comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.
âWould you stop that?â He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.
âPlease donât do this, Iâm already late.â You begged before a big crash took place. âFor fuckâs sa- why.âÂ
âYouâre not allowed to get ready with me anymore.â You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips.Â
âDonât look at me like that!â You carried on. âIf you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.â
It was quiet for a few moments. âNo, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.â
They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. âI love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while Iâm gone? Hm? Letâs go ask.â
Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement.Â
And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.
You chuckled awkwardly. âHow much did you hear?â
Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-headâs lap.Â
âEnough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.â Sirius teased salaciously.Â
You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.
âDonât hide that beautiful face from us; itâd be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.â He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.
You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. âA bad cat, at that.â You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice.Â
âOi!â Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. âDonât speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.â
âPrincess Bernadette?â Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured âthe Third?â
âBirdie, Lily. My catâs name is Birdie.â You corrected, not at all amused.Â
Lily raised her nose in the air. âWhen we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, sheâs Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ballâs to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.âÂ
Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. âShall we, mâlady?â
You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted Jamesâ elbow as you made your way to the door.
âHave fun you guys!â Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.
âYou too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.â He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.
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Cat-enaries - Min Yoongi / Suga
Part two of Cat-astropheÂ
Summary: all these series of meaningful acts, but you still donât know where your relationship stands.Â
Genre/tags: Fluff, smut (protected sex, vanilla)
Pairing: Yoongi x she/her/afab reader
a/n: this is my first time writing smut! T_T
Ever since that eventful night you spent at Yoongiâs place, where both of you got drunk and eventually ended up sleeping on the same bed together (just sleeping!), and him wanting to get to know you more, you continued to see each other more and more. Mostly after you came back home from work, but it could be on weekends too if both of you did not have any other plans.Â
After a while you began to know some of Yoongiâs friends, and same thing for him as well. He had a small circle but you were surprised on how they bring out the best out of him. He had been doing all these small gestures just like randomly giving you snacks, offering to babysit your cat when you were busy, or just simply wanting your company while he was producing music. Occasionally he would invite you to a party from his management, where you met his co-workers.Â
He would only introduce you by your name though, never any label following behind the introduction. A friend? A neighbor? No, just your name. All these things he had done, and never once did he ever mention about relationship, or at least to put a name on your situation.Â
It had only been three, going on four months, you kept telling yourself. Maybe he wanted to get to know you slowly and throughly and did not want to rush things. But then again, you knew how straightforward Yoongi was and he would had at least said something about it if that was the case. Maybe it was for the best, reminding yourself of the traumas you got from your past relationships, maybe it was better to take things slowly. But what made you anxious was the thought of falling by yourself.
Tonight you both agreed to watch a horror movie together at your apartment, with the occasion being you just got a promotion. The promotion happened two weeks prior, but both of you were busy. Yoongi had already sent you a dozen of donuts as a celebratory gift, but you insisted on wanting to spend some quality time with him.
âHave you eaten?â You asked as you opened your apartment door for Yoongi.Â
âI have.â He simply said and immediately bent down to greet your pet who was meowing by his feet.Â
âHe misses you.âÂ
âWe see each other a lot, donât be a clingy cat.â He smiled and booped the catâs tiny nose. He picked Cookie up and lightly kissed his forehead before letting him back to roam around the house.Â
The scene made your heart race and you cleared your throat. âWell, I also miss you.â You said, hoping Yoongi would catch your intention.Â
âI miss you too.â He giggled and ruffled your hair instead, before walking to sit down on your sofa, completely unaware by how disappointed you were. âWeâre watching Exhuma, right?â He asked.Â
You hummed in agreement, hoping he wouldnât catch the slight disappointment in the tone of your voice. âYou wanna drink something?â
âAnythingâs fine.âÂ
You muttered an âokayâ before going to your fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite and small bowl of popcorn you had made beforehand. You sit down next to him and played the movie and thought to yourself. There wasnât really anything affectionate happening after you spent the night at his. You had never really kissed officially with you being sober, maybe only once when he kissed your forehead when you went to roller skate together, that was if that could even be counted.Â
That day you were struggling to keep your balance and he caught you in his embrace just when you were about to fall frontward. He was laughing and despite being annoyed, you couldnât help but to get swayed by the sound of his laughter. You didnât get to process it that much when you felt his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. It happened just for a few second before he let go and simply asked if you were okay.Â
Reminiscing the moment had your whole body warm. You put your feet up and hugged your knees together. Yoongi looked to your side, noticing your behavior.Â
âAre you cold?âÂ
âUh, I donât know.â It was the opposite, you dummy! You secretly complained.Â
âHere,â He grabbed you by your shoulder and scooted you closer to him. âBetter?â
âSlightly.â You said, you didnât realize you were pouting while saying it.Â
Yoongi sighed, but a small smile was on his lips. âOnly slightly?âÂ
âOnly slightly.â You were annoyed by this point, but you felt awful for wanting to ask, and basically begging, for any skinship from him.Â
âHey, whatâs wrong?â He softly asked while stroking your shoulder gently.Â
âDo you not like me like that?â You said while avoiding his gaze. âAm I reading the whole situation wrong? Do you just wanna be friends?â
Yoongi chuckled and it annoyed you further more. He had the audacity to find this hilarious while you felt confused and hurt.Â
âYoongi, this isnât funny.âÂ
âOn what situation is what weâre doing considered as just friends?â His words immediately made you look back at him.Â
âI donât know! You never really said anything about us being a thing, anything, andâŠâ You found it hard to admit that you basically were asking for his affection. âNevermind, this is stupid! Letâs just get back to the movieâŠâ
âLook at me.â
âNo.â You refused, even when your heart was beating faster at his request.Â
âY/N, look at me.â He said again, this time softly grabbing your chin to make you face him.Â
Not a single word came out from him after that, only him dipping down quickly to meet your lips. You were surprised but shortly melted into his kiss and found yourself returning it. He was taking his time tasting your lips. His kisses were very gentle that it almost made you beg for more. Slowly his tongue made an entrance and you welcomed it swiftly. A small low moan escaped your lips as you parted them wider for him to access you.Â
And when it was done, mainly because both of you were completely breathless, Yoongi hugged you. He chuckled and this time you couldnât help but to smile as well.Â
âI like you. Maybe in love at this point.â He confessed with you still wrapped in his embrace. âI couldnât recall when exactly the shift to love began and Iâve been thinking to myself these past few weeks⊠but every time I see you, I keep wondering if there was even any moment when I wasnât.â
You blushed at this and snuggled closer, hugging him tighter.
âI feel like Iâve been buying extra portions of my food a little too often, been on Instagram more just to send you some random internet memes that you like so much, been making sure I hear that door opening sound when you come home from work, been thinking about you twenty four seven that my music starts to have your vibe, the melodies just sound like they were made for you and I couldnât even explain howâŠâ He chuckled at the last mention. âThe composer even told me that my work has a romantic touch to it lately.â
He broke the hug so he could look at you and smiled, showing his gum a bit. âIâve given up cause honestly, I canât even remember what was life before all these feelings.â He shrugged playfully. âHonestly, I donât think I even wanna remember how life feels without these emotions.â
Your eyes got teary all of the sudden. Your view was getting a bit blurry. A small laugh, mixture of both relief and happiness, escaped your very own lips before you crashed them back on his. Yoongi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back close to him. The kiss was more desperate this time, demanding, needy, but most importantly, filled with overwhelming feelings you both had for each other.Â
Yoongi swiftly pulled your body and brought you on his lap without breaking the contact on your lips. A muffled squeal came out from you, but you instantly put your arms over his shoulder, deepening the kiss.Â
After moments of tongue dancing between the two of you, you pulled back first because once again he had you breathless, but it seemed like he didnât want you to rest yet, as the moment you pulled away, his lips found their way on your neck, leaving trails of the softest kisses. You bit the insides of your lower lip, trying to subdue the moans that were eager to get out. His thigh being exactly between your legs was certainly not helping you either. Hearing you trying to conceal your voice made him looked up. The sight of you flinching concerned him.Â
His right hand palmed your cheek. âIâm sorry, are you uncomfortable? Is this too much?âÂ
You blush at the tenderness and shook your head in disagreement. âNo⊠uh, Iâm not uncomfortableâŠâ
Yoongi smiled at you and quickly kissed your forehead. âOkay.â He simply said, before he went back to put his attention on your neck, showering it with pecks. You were still making low sounds, not trying to conceal your voice as much, just humming with your mouth closed. Your body was still tense but was progressively easing the more his lips kisses you.Â
His hands started to move up underneath your top, just shyly under your bra, as if he wasnât sure if you would grant him more than that. When an open-mouthed moan finally came out from you, Yoongi took it as his green light and began to bring the movement of his hands upwards, gently fondling your clothed breasts, which promptly made your body turned into jelly against him. You could only bury your head on his neck, letting him continue toying your chest.Â
Your eyes shot open at the feel of him unclasping your bra. The touch of his palms meeting your bare breasts sent heat through you that instantly went south. You whimpered and hugged him close, burying your face further on his neck.Â
âYou okay?â He chuckled, not stopping but decreased the pacing of his hands. The angle now making it awkward due to your body pressing closer to him.Â
âIâm just shy.â You said while still not moving from your position.Â
âYou donât wanna continue? Cause I donât mind.â He said as he moved one hand to soothe your back.Â
âN-no, Yoongi I just⊠kinda just getting all insecure cause itâs the first time youâll be seeing me and Iâm just scared if Iâd look weird to you.âÂ
âYouâre perfect.â He told you and he meant it.Â
âI havenât done this in a while.â You said with a slight moping tone.Â
âSo do I.â He took your hands to pry them apart from him. He guided them to his chest where you could feel his heart beating rapidly. âDo you think Iâm not nervous?â
You looked at him and couldnât help but to smile. But when you looked down, you realized a growing bulge was present and that seemingly he was not only nervous, but excited as well.Â
âYou also seem excitedâŠâ You giggled.Â
âNot exactly my fault now is it.âÂ
âItâs okay,â You looked up to the ceiling. âI may or may not be soaking through my panties now as well.â That earned a groan from him.Â
âDo you want me to help?â He breathed out. His hands now holding your waist steadily, thumb grazing your underboob. âOr we could totally just makeout and itâs alright.â
âYoongi.â
âYeah?â
âContinue⊠please.â
He groaned once again before lifting both your top and bra at the same time. As the garments sat just above your chest, the view of your nipples perking out just for him had the man salivating. Slowly, he lifted you to his side and laid you down so you could rest on your back on the sofa. He bent down and proceeded to pepper your chest and breasts with soft feather-like kisses, almost as if you would break if he pressed harder. He looked up and felt his ego somewhat boosted with the scene of you biting your lips, whimpering.Â
He kissed your right nipple and began to sensually nip and twirl his tongue around it, that was it for you. You fully moaned when his right hand pinched your left nipple and twisted it. You brought your hand to your mouth, trying to repress the arousing sound coming from your mouth from being too loud.Â
âItâs just me.â He mumbled into your skin, one hand went to trace the line on your back.Â
But thatâs the problem. Yoongi himself was your main weakness.Â
He continued to play with your twins, lapping the buds with his tongue, making sure he gave both of them the same treatment. Slowly his right hand traveled downwards, caressing your middle through your sweatpants. Your breath hitched.Â
âEverything okay?â He asked again.Â
âY-yeah.â You managed to vocalize.Â
âCan I take these off?â He said, tugging slightly at the band of your pants.Â
You only nodded and he kissed your forehead. He proceeded to deliberately slide down your bottoms, leaving you with your exposed panties.Â
Yoongi gulped at the sight of your damp underwear. A small patch of wet spot could be seen and he could not lie to himself and felt proud of his doings. He bent down and kissed your lips for a second before flashing a soft smile.Â
âCan we continue in your room?â Before you answered, he followed. âI want you to feel comfy while I eat you out.âÂ
That sentence almost had you hollering. Â
âOkayâŠâ You breathed out heavily and took his hand, dragging him inside your bedroom.Â
Just after he closed the door, for a split second you saw a smirk visible on his face, before he scooped you up in his arms. You gasped, and he quickly pecked your lips before gently laid you on the bed. He brought his right hand to caress your thigh softly, slowly moving upwards to your crotch area. You moaned instantly at the contact.Â
His middle and ring finger moved up and down, petting your core through the cotton cloth. The pace slowly increasing, and so did the volume of your pleas. You could feel your body turning into jelly already when neither his fingers or lips had touched your naughty bits yet.Â
Finally you felt one of his finger tugging and pulling your underwear. You gladly, almost too eagerly, helped him by wiggling out from it, as you watched him pulling it loose and dropped them to your floor. He pulled you slightly so you were close to the edge of your bed, and he bent down on his knees. He gaped at your glistening core, and he really was ogling for a hot minute, lost at his thoughts.Â
âStop staring at me like that.â You quickly clamped your legs together.Â
âIâm sorry, I just couldnât believe this.â He chuckled, hands on your thigh, meddling your legs back to spread out for him. âI havenât done this in a whileâŠâ
âYouâve told me.â Your eyes searched for his.Â
âNo, I mean, I might be rusty⊠if it feels weird or if you wanna stop, we can stop anytime.â
You could see the nervousness and self-consciousness in him and it made you wanna love him even more.Â
âI just wanna taste you so bad right now.âÂ
He hunched closer in between your legs and dived in. He licked a bit, tasting you in his tongue. At that moment he decided it was his favorite flavor. He licked a full strip your labia, before then letting his tongue danced around it, making out with your cunt. He tried to make a mental note on which part made your back arched, which side made you moan louder. Hoping the next time, if you would let him, he promised himself he would make you feel ten times better.Â
A loud yelp came out from you when he slid in his middle finger. You bit your lips, feeling shaky. He carried on trusting you, slowly in and out, pacing increasing at the same time as his tongue on your clit. He then added his ring finger and you felt it effortlessly sliding into your sopping wet hole. The attack from both his tongue and fingers quickly trembled you down. You felt your stomach came into a knot and your insides clenched.Â
âY-Yoongi⊠IâŠâ
You could not form a sentence and Yoongi seemed to be too immersed to respond your pleas as he kept his tempo. You were grasping onto the bedsheets, back arching towards him, and then the orgasm hit you.Â
The image of Yoongi smirking with your slick trailing down his chin would now be forever embed on your brain. It would certainly be in your dreams for quite some time.Â
âThat was⊠okay, right?âÂ
âThat was incredible.â You said through panting.Â
The guy smiled and kissed the crown of your head. He pulled his t-shirt off in one go and kissed you once again. You broke off the kiss first, pulling him by the neck so he could crawl on the bed with you. Now with you under him, he then kissed your neck before sliding your cropped top over your head, making you fully bare before his eyes.Â
âBeautiful.â Yoongi said in a low voice.Â
The compliment flipped your stomach upside down. âHow come Iâm the only one completely nakedâŠâÂ
Your comment earned a smile from him. âWould you help me then?âÂ
You blushed, but did not oblige. You didnât waste any time and helped him out from his pants.Â
âWait.âÂ
He suddenly stopped mid through. His pants were already down to his knee area, and it couldnât be helped that all your attention were now heading towards his massive bulge that wasnât in any way shy behind his boxer brief. He stepped down the bed, finally taking off his pants fully. You could see him taking out something from his back pocket before he let the cloth fell down joining the rest of your clothings on the floor.Â
âYou came prepared.â You commented with a teasing smile after seeing the item he took out from his pants.Â
Yoongi just looked at you with a hint of red decorated his cheeks. You found it extremely adorable that he was bashful about it.Â
You took his hand and pulled him back with you on the bed. He put the condom on your bedside table, before dipping in to kiss you. It seemed like you both had found out that kissing each other was the best thing and you felt dumb for not doing it sooner. As he kissed you passionately, you were hesitant for a second, but you slowly brought your hand to feel up the swelling bump on his below. You swallowed his groans in the kiss as you continue to stroke up and down. Breaking the kiss, you mumbled something about wanting to return his favor, but Yoongi grabbed your wrist immediately, stopping you from taking off his boxer.Â
âAt this rate Iâm going to cum in my pants so maybe next time, sweetheart.â He kissed your forehead.
When he free himself from his underwear, your jaw dropped along with it. Of course you were no saint, you had caught a glimpse of his groin area before when he wore that one gray sweatpants that you fancied. You were in fact suspecting that he was at least a little above average, but not this. He had completely proven you wrong. Quite frankly, you had never thought about how beautiful a male part could be until you saw his.Â
You gulped your saliva and salivate the mesmerizing scene in front of you, watching as he ripped the condom pack with his teeth and rolled the rubber from his tip downwards. He positioned himself in between your legs, sliding his tip up and down on your entrance, which made you whimper instantly.
âYoongi⊠pleaseâŠâ You pleaded.
âIf it hurts even just the slightest bit, let me know, okay?â He said, caressing your hair.Â
You only nodded and soon after you felt his tip entering you ever so gently. You moaned loudly and it seemed like the movement not only affect you, but Yoongi also, as you saw him closing his eyes shut, grunting along with you. He slid in very carefully, making sure you were adjusting well with his girth. When he reached a certain length, you yelped.Â
âDid I hurt you?â He suddenly asked out of worry.Â
âNo⊠it just⊠it just feels very full.â You managed a smile to reassure him.Â
âOkay.â He breathed out, combing his locks through his fingers. âLet me know when I can move.â
You touched his hand to catch his attention. He looked at you with a wary expression. âYou can move, Iâm not that fragile.âÂ
He muttered a stuttered âokayâ before sliding himself deeper. He lunged deep and out slowly, making love to you passionately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, going on a soft tempo, as if he was trying to confess his feelings through, making sure you feel how sincere he was. You brought your hands to cup his face, then stroked his hair, before putting them over his shoulders to pull him close. Your lips met again in the middle, muffling your moans through the tongue lacing activity. His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling with them as your kisses went harsher and sloppier.Â
And when he moved from your lips to kiss your chest, you bucked your hips against him, with your hands ruffling his hair as he tongue your nipple carelessly. His tempo began to distort and the knot in your stomach started to feel too much and you knew you were close.Â
Not long after you came to release, he followed soon after the feeling of you clenching hard over his cock. The sound of both your heavy breaths filled the room. Yoongi once again dipped down to kiss you. Starting from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, and lastly your lips. You giggled in between every single one. He then got up to tie the ends of the condom, timidly walking towards your bathroom to where your bin was. When he was done, you were now lying to your sides, curving your legs in a fetal position.
Yoongi approached you and slowly cuddled you from behind. You automatically scooted closer to his body warmth.Â
âThis is oddly familiar.â He chuckled.Â
You recalled the first time you spent the night at his place by accident, when you woke up with him cuddling you exactly like this. Minus the nakedness of course.Â
You turned your body to face him. A huge smile was plastered on your face. âI hate you.â
âIâm sorry?!â He eyed you with an annoyed expression.Â
âIâm so madly in love with you itâs insane!â You smacked his chest lightly.
âIâm sorry, I guess I was just afraid of moving too fast. I havenât been in a relationship in a long time and I was worrying if Iâd make you uncomfortableâŠâÂ
âI thought you had decided that you donât like me or something⊠I was even jealous of Cookie when you kissed him!â
âI noticed.â
âYou noticed?! And you chose to do nothing???â You huffed.
âYou looked cute so I decided to leave you be.â He snickered.Â
âYouâre evil.âÂ
âYouâre evil for wearing that extremely tight crop top today.â His eyes travelled down and up to your nude body.
âIt was⊠on purpose.â You bit your lips. âI guess it worked? Haha?âÂ
He raised one of his eyebrows at you and smirked. âGive me five minutes and we can go again.â
âOh my god??? Who are you?! Give me back my cute and shy Yoongi!âÂ
You squealed as he laughed and hugged you close.Â
âI love you.â
âI love you too.â You said, followed by a loud smack of smooch to your cheek from him, then he flashed you his gummy smile.Â
Thank you for reading! đ
taglist: @yunaurlove @waitaminswife @yoongisababygoat @hazyjoon @callsignwidow @ai-des-blog-blog @jovanaprime @bangtanmisser7 @angelk0503
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steveâs waited patiently for this moment ever since.Â
Well, patient is a misnomerâ heâd waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and thereâs no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because heâd apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddieâs bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.Â
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.Â
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement heâd been working toward in physical therapy.Â
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddieâs care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they donât get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steveâs own scalp itchy.Â
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, itâs enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddieâs getting ready to discharge back home. And thatâs how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddieâs otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.Â
âNDA?â Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddieâs lap. Heâs upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.Â
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.Â
âHow the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?â
âYeah, I think the whole point is that you donât read what youâre signing but Iâll let you in on a little secret.â Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddieâs crutches. âYou may as well just sign it because if you donât, theyâll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.âÂ
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steveâs a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.Â
Steve isnât sure what to do with that look yet, but heâs sure glad itâs there.Â
âCelebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?â Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.Â
âIt sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.âÂ
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steveâs chilled and Eddieâs warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but theyâre warm and warm means alive.Â
Eddieâs hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as itâs always warm.Â
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
âIs it weird that Iâm actually sort of worried about leaving?âÂ
Steveâs eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddieâs rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
âWhat are you worried about?â
âUh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. Itâs a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, yâknow? And Iâm uhâŠâ Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.Â
âYouâreâŠ?â Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.Â
âI see you all the time here. Guess I just donât want that to change.âÂ
Steveâs heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man whoâs claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.Â
âWhy do you think thatâd change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you wonât be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.â Steve rests his free hand on Eddieâs knee. âNo one's gonna fuck with you. Donât worry about that.âÂ
âYou sound a little cocky there, Stevie.â Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steveâs hand up to his eyes. âReady to fight for my honor or something?â
âYep.âÂ
He hadnât brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but heâs glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddieâs pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.Â
âYouâre serious.â Eddie says.Â
âTook you that long to figure that out?â Steve teases.Â
âIâve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Yâknow, just little things.â Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steveâs. âSo what youâre saying is that Iâll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?âÂ
Steve shrugs. âProbably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayneâs, and itâs not like I have a job to rush off to these days. Youâre stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.âÂ
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steveâs face as if in disbelief.
âDonât make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?âÂ
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.Â
Steveâs not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddieâsâ sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that heâd get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddieâs ear.Â
âThatâs easy. Iâd just never leave.â
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
part one
word count: 9.2k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.
"Do you ever get tired?"Â
Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.
"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.
Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.
"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"
Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.
"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.
"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.
They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.
He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.
Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.
Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that.Â
What's cooler than an old lady?Â
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."
It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her.Â
Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist.Â
Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.
"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.
Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."
She surely doesn't recognize him.
And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"
"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?"Â
"Yes, for the last four years."
"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"
"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."
"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.
"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.
"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."
As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night.Â
Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.
The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"
And the rest was history.
Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.
She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.
Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer.Â
He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her.Â
"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.
"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."
"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."
She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.
"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"
"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth."Â
From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.
"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"
"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound.Â
"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.
"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"
She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "
For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.
"You sure do have a way with words."
"I try."Â
Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.
"Do you think I'm annoying?"
"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"
"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."
"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"
"No, not really."Â
"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"
"Yes."
That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely.Â
"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."
And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."
"Okay."
"We can start now?"
"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.
"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"
She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate.Â
"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."
"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"
She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.
"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"
"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."
"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.
"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"
Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.
"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.
Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.
"What have you lost?"
"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.
He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.
"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems.Â
"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It mustâve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it mustâve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."
Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.
"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."
"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces.Â
"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.
"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."
"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."
Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.
"Shit."Â
She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest.Â
She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings.Â
When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.
She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas.Â
"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."
"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door.Â
"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently.Â
Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.
Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind.Â
Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.
Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.
And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.
Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.
Clementine was actually so fucking cool.
People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her.Â
Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.
Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.
He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume.Â
Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name.Â
He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.
She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.
She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.
He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.
Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly.Â
He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show.Â
Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.
Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.
"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect.Â
"Probably here."
As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.
Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.
"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.â
-
The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.
She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her.Â
When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.
Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities.Â
There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.
She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.
"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame.Â
"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."
She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.
"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.
"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.
His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.
"So it's a movie about eating people?"
Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry.Â
"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."
"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"
Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.
Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives.Â
He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit.Â
He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause.Â
He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.
Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.
Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him.Â
Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.
As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars.Â
"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"
-
When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France.Â
She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.
When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal.Â
If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows.Â
Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.
Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together.Â
Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex.Â
She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.
Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world.Â
Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each otherâs presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.
Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.
In fact, she was fine with it.Â
She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.
It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself.Â
She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt.Â
She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered.Â
So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.
She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her.Â
She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.
He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.
When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.
"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him.Â
"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."
"You have been celebrating?"
"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"
Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."
His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"
"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.
Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.
He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.
"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.
"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.
"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"
"I touched down today after qualifying."
"No." Clem disapproves, "I couldâve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired."Â
Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted.Â
"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.
Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.
"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."
She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."
"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."
Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."
"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."
"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."
He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.
"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."
Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."
Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister.Â
He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."
Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth.Â
He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly.Â
Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony.Â
Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.
"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.
It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.
He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands.Â
"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."
"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."
"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.
"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."
He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.
"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"
Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."
Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly.Â
"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.
"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."
"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."
"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring."Â
"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.
Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."
Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing.Â
"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"
"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."
"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."
"Thank you." Lewis grins.
"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"
"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."
"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take."Â
"Shower?"
"With you?" She wonders.
"If you're okay with that."
 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."
Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower.Â
clementine
liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others
clementine the best week, the most perfect week. Â
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lewishamilton Amazing movie đđœ such a deep message.
tchalamet And she's done it again people.
badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. â€ïž
pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.
user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.
-
As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.
Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.Â
"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.
"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"
Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."
Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve."Â
When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."
He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night.Â
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.
"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"
"About a week."Â
Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.
"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"
Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"
Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."
Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away.Â
"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch."Â
He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase.Â
"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"
Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head.Â
Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.
Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.
Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.
It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head.Â
He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?
She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance.Â
"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in.Â
SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city.Â
"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"
SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."
"You're the best, SK." she smiles.
"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."
-
Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry.Â
He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.
"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."
Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet.Â
He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.
When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.
He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.
thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.
- đ
He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.
Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.
Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.
He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.
-
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Looks like a group of guys from your college wonât leave you alone.
Oh would you look at that,
1940âs!MobBoss!Bucky Barnes
has got your back, and will continue to have your back forever.
(Also hi babes!!! đ€đ€Thousand kisses from me to you! đđ)
Have Your Back Forever And Always » 40s Bucky Barnes
Pairings: Mob Boss!40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky steps in and saves you from the guys in your friend group who wonât leave you alone.
Warnings: Fluff, language, alcohol, smoking, unwanted touching, kissing, use of pet names
A/N: @amathslutsguidetofandom I love the thought of 1940s!Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes and decided to write it as a one shotđ„°đ©”
Written on my phone. Iâm sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
âNo thank you.â You say, politely turning down a drink from one of the guys you go to college with.
âCâmon, sweetheart. Itâs just one drink.â Gerald says, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Bucky watched from the other side of the bar as you continued to politely turn the guys down, but they wouldnât take no for an answer. He could tell how uncomfortable you were.
âItâs just a drink, Y/N.â Fred says, putting his hand on your thigh.
That made you even more uncomfortable than you already were. Bucky downed the rest of his drink and made his way towards you.
âShe said no.â Bucky says, standing behind Gerald and Fred.
âNo one asked you, man.â Fred says.
âWhy donât you run along?â Gerald says.
Bucky chuckled before grabbing the back of their necks and slamming their heads against the bar counter, making everyone in the bar go quiet and look at them. You quickly stood up and backed away with wide eyes.
âHow about you two run along?â Bucky says.
They were too scared to say anything so they just nodded their heads. Bucky let go of them and they stood up. They were about to bolt out of the bar when Bucky grabbed the back of their shirts.
âIf I ever and I mean ever see you two near her again, I wonât hesitate to kick your asses, got it?â He says.
âGot it.â They say in unison.
Bucky let go of them and they sprinted out of the bar. You stood there with a surprised look on your face. No one has never done that for you.
âAre you ok, maâam?â Bucky asks softly.
âI am now. Thank you.â You say, giving him a smile.
âCan I buy you a drink?â He asks.
âIâd like to know your name first.â You say.
âJames Barnes.â He held his hand out for you to shake. âEveryone I know calls me Bucky.â He says.
âNice to meet you, James.â You shook his hand. âIâm Y/N.â You introduced yourself. âNow that we know each otherâs names, Iâll accept that drink now.â You say with a smile.
You and Bucky took a seat at the bar counter and he ordered you two drinks.
âSo tell me, doll faceâŠâ Bucky took a sip of his bourbon before asking his question. âWhatâs a pretty girl like you doing at a bar like this?â He asks.
âI go to the local college and I wanted to come here for a couple drinks after all the studying Iâve been doing lately.â You tell him.
âWhat are you studying?â He asks curiously.
âI want to be a nurse.â You say.
âThatâs amazing. I hope all that studying pays off.â He says.
âI hope so too. I graduate next month.â You say.
You learned that Bucky is one of the most powerful men in Brooklyn, New York. You and Bucky spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other till the bar was about to close. He even offered to walk you home from the bar. Bucky being the gentleman he is, wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you close to him and to protect you.
âThank you for saving me and for walking me home, James.â You say with a smile.
âYou donât have to thank me, babydoll. I have your back forever and always.â Bucky smiles. âIf you donât mind, I would like to see you again.â He says.
âI would absolutely love that.â You smiled. âIâm free tomorrow afternoon after school.â You say.
âGreat so itâs a date.â He says.
Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands grasped his suit jacket to steady yourself. Your lips moved in sync with his. It felt like everything around you guys was in slow motion. Bucky pulled away slowly, looking deep in your eyes.
âSee you tomorrow afternoon, doll.â Bucky says softly.
âSee you tomorrow, Bucky.â You say, smiling widely.
đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”đ©”
-Buckyâs Doll
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CLARA BOW // charles leclerc - pt. 4
charles leclerc x figureskater!reader
part 1 part 2 part 3
summary: you're an aspiring olympic gold medalist who just wants to compete and have fun. on the way there, a handsome monegasque f1 driver slides into your dms and changes the trajectory of your life.
note: pt. 4 bby! i'm so excited to finally get into the main part of this story with you guys! you have no idea of the devilry i have planned đ
cassievilleneuve
liked by y/n l/n, isabeau.levito, and 8,393 others
cassievilleneuve we weren't cool enough for the amex lounge đ„Č
view all 134 comments...
carolinevilleneuve sleepy bears đ§žđ
y/n l/n at least my ass looks nice đ€·đ»ââïž
cassievilleneuve speak for yourself i look like a potato đ thanks care
carolinevilleneuve anytime đ
leclerclover43 y/n is so unserious i love her đ "at least my ass looks nice"
y/n l/n well it does, doesn't it?
leclerclover43 you're so right queen ofc it does đ€§
leclerclover43 also, any reason why you might be traveling?
y/n l/n đđ€«
leclerclover43 oH
isabeau.levito vacation without me? đ„Č
y/n l/n bby issy you have school!
isabeau.levito australia >>>>>>> school
isabeau.levito also, where did all these people come from? what did i miss?
carolinevilleneuve you missed the y/n x hot driver saga!? dm NOW
callsignice am i the only one wondering why y/n's going to australia literally like 4 days after the olympics ended? didn't she just get back home?
y/n l/n
liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 22,691 others
y/n l/n cassie's man crush treated us to... whatever that is đ
view all 213 comments...
cassievilleneuve i do NOT have a crush!!
y/n l/n bro be so fr i know more about him than i know about my own crushes đ
sainzismysign don't be shy y/n, tell us, who's your crush đ
y/n l/n i don't kiss and tell đ
charles_leclerc Whatever that is it looks like a lot of sugar đł can i have some?
y/n l/n i'd get you some, but i don't need your trainer up in my dms threatening me đ
charles_leclerc Andrea's an angel, I promise đđ» no threats
pierregasly Andrea, an angel? LMAO
charles_leclerc Pierre, fermez-la!
emmalechair yeah pierre let our boy shoot his shot!
carolinevilleneuve ...where did this picture come from? i don't remember going to a restaurant?
y/n l/n neither did i đ the man crush sent it to me
carolinevilleneuve @cassievilleneuve YOU WENT ON A DATE!?
cassievilleneuve IT WASN'T A DATE
y/n l/n liar đ
mclaren
liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and 390,986 others
mclaren Live footage of @landonorris lying straight to our face after going on a date and consuming his weight in sugar.
view all 889 comments...
alllyyyssson ehem eXcUsE ME!? LANDO WENT ON A DATE!?
cecelewis ADMIN TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW
jazzyruiz admin rlly thought they could slip the "lando went on a date" at the beginning of the caption and we wouldn't notice đ
landosleni my husband is cheating on me!?!?!
landonorris IT WASN'T A DATE
mclaren Sure it wasn't, buddy đ
danielricciardo why you lying
neonorangepapaya LMAO dragggg him daniel!
y/n l/n â 2m
Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit
Melbourne, Australia
"Are you sure this is even a good idea?" Y/N bit her lip nervously, letting the hometown hero - Daniel Ricciardo - drag her down the paddock.
"Bit too late for second thoughts now, isn't it?" Daniel quipped, nodding his head at a passing mechanic.
"I'm not having second thoughts, I just... he didn't even invite me here."
"Which is the whole point of a surprise," Daniel pointed out. He turned back to look at her briefly, "By the way, where's your friend?"
At that, Y/N giggled, "With Lando. Those two have been joined at the hip ever since he picked us up from the airport."
"So it was a date!" Daniel crowed triumphantly.
"Obviously!" Y/N snickered. "What else could it have been?"
"He was telling everyone you were there too after the McLaren admin made that post."
Y/N scoffed, "Now, that's a lie! I was dead asleep in our hotel room. Cassie snuck out and I didn't find out until I woke up and saw that Lando sent me that picture, saying she was in good hands."
"I'm not surprised. I wouldn't want to be caught dead on a date with Lando either." Daniel nodded, mock thoughtfully.
Y/N giggled again, "I don't think that's why she didn't tell me."
He hummed, but refrained from saying anything else as they reached the Ferrari garage, bustling as it was with mechanics, engineers, and strategists.
Y/N came to a full stop as he called out, "Oi! Frenchman! Over here!"
An accented voice yelled back, "I'm Monegasque!", as Charles Leclerc emerged from the sea of red, clad in his own scarlet racing gear.
"Same thing," Daniel grinned, but Charles' attention was no longer on him.
"Y/N?" He blurted out in shock.
Y/N lifted a hand nervously and waved, "Hi?"
Charles stood there, staring at her like he'd seen a ghost, until someone behind him shoved him forward and he snapped out of his reverie.
"Uh, hi! Hi!" He laughed, hovering in front of her uncertainly. "What are you doing here?"
"Lando and Daniel invited me," Y/N bit her lip, cheeks reddening. "They, um- we thought it might be a nice surprise."
He didn't say anything for a moment, but just as she was getting ready to backtrack, his face broke out into a beaming smile and he pulled her into a half-hug - an uncertain one, the kind you give someone if you know them, but you don't know them enough to give them a full hug.
"Welcome to Ferrari," he stated loudly as camera flashes went off, pictures and videos recording the moment that would go viral on Twitter and Instagram for the entirety of that day. "The best team on the grid!"
tag list: @1655clean, @norwayxo, @thecubanator2, @theendofthematerialgworl, @c-losur3, @lightdragonrayne
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Strains and Stresses
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader
Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.8k
A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3
You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.
Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.
For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.
From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.
You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.
He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.
It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.
After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.
You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.
It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.
You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.
It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.
Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.
As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.
"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.
You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.
You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.
Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.
He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.
He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.
You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.
At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.
Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."
He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.
The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.
"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.
Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.
You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.
"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.
He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper
"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.
He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.
When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."
He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.
You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.
"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.
He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.
He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.
An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.
How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.
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âŻđđ đđšđ đđĄđ đđźđąđđâŻ
chris x black earthy/boho!reader
IN WHICHâŠwe take a dive into the relationship between Chris and y/n, and how their love for each other is beyond compare.
WARNINGS: just fluff.
PT.1
Y/n wasnât looking for a relationship and she sure as hell wasnât looking for love either. So she was shocked when Chris Sturniolo came out of nowhere and fell into her life.
She remembers how they met.
She was at a flea market, looking for new decor in her home. She had her mind set on a few plants and maybe even some artwork from a local artist. She was looking at a jewelry stand when Chris noticed her.
He recognized her instantly, having watched almost all of her YouTube videos. He stood in place, watching her carefully examine the handmade jewelry. He walked over to her, calling out her name, however, she couldnât hear him over Erykah Badu singing in her ear. He ended up tapping her on her shoulder which caught her attention.
She took off the green headphones and stared at him, âcould I help you with something?â
The two talked and talked, and talked. Chris ended up ditching his friend and brothers to walk around with her. He bought her food, talked about music, and even traded numbers with her.
From there the two became close, close enough to develop mutual crushes on each other. The only problem was that Y/n was scared.
She was scared with how fast she was falling for Chris. This was something new, something fresh, something innocent.
She wasnât innocent.
She was damaged.
She knew that her mind was fucked up due to her previous relationship. She hated it, she wished Chris was her first love. She wished she wasnât fucked up so she wouldnât hurt him in the long run.
But she wanted it, she wanted whatever it was her and Chris were blossoming into. She wanted it for better or worse.
Chris saw her hesitancy when it came to him, he saw the battle going on in her mind when it came to her emotions towards him. So he did his best to prove heâs all in.
He did his best to give words of reassurance, he sent her flowers on her upload days to show her support, he searched for limited edition vinyls for her, He even made her a care basket when he realized she was on her period.
Y/n appreciated it all, she never took it for granted. She felt herself changing since Chris came into her life and for that,
He had her love. He had it and he could have it forever, because he earned it.
She vibed with Chris, she vibed with him on a higher frequency than she ever has with anyone else. They were so in sync in certain areas of life it scared her at first, but she grew to love it.
She loved what she had found with Chris and she vowed to herself to never do anything to mess it up. Little did she know Chris made the same vow.
They just had this motion between them that everyone could see, it was powerful, admirable, emotional.
They had the juice.
And they knew it.
There were times when Y/n would stare at Chris, thinking about how he magically appeared in her life and flipped it upside down for the better. She would run it back, replaying the moment he tapped her on her shoulder and smiled.
She replayed all the memories theyâd created, the laughter, the new experiences, even their first time having sex.
She came to the conclusion that he was the one.
And she was back to being scared.
She couldnât believe how fast she fell and connected with him, it drove her crazy but she still wanted him.
Chris felt the same way.
It was no secret Chris had a problem with relationships, never being able to commit due to his own fear of being hurt. He was prone to self-sabotaging.
But she made it easy for him the same way he made it easy for her. She wasnât like the rest of the girls in LA who only cared about fame money, and clothes.
She didnât care about his sneakers or how he dressed or how much money he made. She loved him for him, she loved his family, she loved... And all he could do was be grateful and return the favor.
They understood eachother, the were on the same wavelength, they were twin flames.
They had the juice.
AHHHH IM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I WAS JUST TRYING TO CREATE THE VIBE OF THE SONG.
TAGLIST đ
@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush
@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision
@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie @sturnstvr
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In Another Life
Hurt, no comfort, angst, Iâm ready to break my own heart.
Your flatmate is dating Soap and heâs everything you want.
Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.
CW: MDNI! low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.
A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.
ââ
Soap is dating your flatmate.
Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.
He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering âsorry âscuse meâ as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his âno no, Iâm taking up all the room, lass.â
You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering âI can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!â
You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. Youâre an expert at that now. Thatâs not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.
ââ
On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didnât.
ââ
Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.
âCall me tomorrow, alright?â His voice is muffled.
âIâll be fine.â
âJust call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. Iâll bring you breakfast.â
Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasnât the coffee you were thanking him for.
ââ
Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and itâs like they have heart eyes.
âY/n, itâs y/n, THE GOAT!â Your roommate yells.
âThe GOAT!â Soap hollers.
They both flop into the sofa either side of you. Theyâre too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.
A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.
Your roommate grabs one hand.
Youâre next.
You take Soapâs hand and you arc off the sofa, heâs strong.
Youâre pressed up against his side. Heâs hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isnât yours.
ââ
âItâs only 2 days but Iâm so excited,â she talks about her friendâs wedding in the south of France, âIâm wearing this dressâ she flicks through her phone gallery âand Johnny is going to wear a kilt!â Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.
âI love it, youâll match!â You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories theyâll make and photos theyâll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.
You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldnât find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.
But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he âhad an early start to work tomorrow.â You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didnât even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.
Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.
âWe bought you back some chocolate!â Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.
âAww guys you didnât have to.â Your mouth is dry.
âJohnny found it, I didnât know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!â
You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didnât want to get used to tastes you couldnât indulge in.
ââ
âHeâs a prick, forget about him.â Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.
âOi whoâs a prick?â Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmateâs waist in his hand.
âNo one-â you turn away.
âA fuck boy that y/n isnât seeing any more.â Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasnât her decision.
âHe isnât a fuck boy.â You know youâll regret clarifying the point, âwe didnât fuck, so heâs not. Heâs just a prick.â You and the conversation. Soap whistles.
Later that night when youâre washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.
âListen, forget about that guy,â he says low, youâd follow that voice anywhere.
âThanks.â You squeak quietly.
âYou will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and youâll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?â He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.
He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.
The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.
That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.
ââ
âWeâre going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnnyâs friends are going to be there.â Your flatmate asks you.
You wonder if theyâre as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself youâre just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, thatâs what everyone says.
You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isnât abundant but youâre feeling yourself.
You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.
Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gazâs girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.
The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didnât want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.
When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs âyou and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!â You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.
You didnât notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.
âBabe. Babe-â he says âdonât go there.â
Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say âI know what I saw.â
âIt ainât like that, the Captain is⊠Price is⊠Look, heâs married to the job.â Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, âwe donât sit around and talk about it but he ainât the type to mess around.â
You play it off âwe were just talking, itâs not a big deal.â
It hurts when Soap says âgood, because heâs a lifer.â
You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soapâs words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.
Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.
âI canât even get a text back, why would he be interested?â You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.
ââ
âYou like thaâ, lass?â you hear Soap rasp, youâre not sure if heâs taking her from behind or if heâs on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate itâs either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate itâs good.
You donât breathe. You just listen.
âOh god, Johnny please!â Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.
You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.
âThaâs it,â you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmateâs voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.
You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.
ââ
One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.
âNice bit of skirt, that.â He leers at your flatmate.
âFuck off, you prick!â You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?
When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldnât hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.
âThanks for taking care of her,â he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.
He adds âIâm sorry Gaz and Cap couldnât make it, paperwork.â Youâd heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.
During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.
But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises youâd read about, through your tears.
ââ
You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.
You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didnât have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnnyâs.
ââ
You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldnât. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - itâs like they knew something you didnât. And they did.
You found yourself outside with Price. Heâd asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.
It was cold outside, bitterly cold.
âYouâre a lovely girl, y/n, youâre, smart, pretty, ballsy,â he says, almost to himself. Youâre immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and thereâs a pit in your stomach.
âIâm not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlinâ.â
The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.
You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.
With wet eyes and a wobbly voice that you couldnât hide, you say âso you think Iâm pretty?â
He hits you with a look that youâll never forget.
âIn another life-â he quietly began.
You cut him off, agreeing, âin another life.â
You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.
ââ
It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.
Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, youâre sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.
âLook at you! Heâs a lucky lad!â
âWait, let me see!â Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.
Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.
âOh you look gorgeous, girl!â You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.
You read out the text message.
âSorry canât make it, hungover lol.â You sound distant, as if it wasnât related to you.
âFucking prick.â Soap says with no hesitation.
âY/nâŠ. Babe.â Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but youâre limp and embarrassed.
âFuck it, Iâm going out anyway!â You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.
The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You donât last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.
ââ
You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.
You wish you could be in someoneâs inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.
ââ
âTurn it down!â You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.
Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.
âOh John, hi!â You canât hide that youâre happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.
âHi love, sorry to come by unannounced,â heâs standing straighter and his smile doesnât reach his eyes. âIs your flatmate around?â
âYeh, come in.â Your stomach drops. You didnât need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.
âNo,â she recognises the look.
âIâm so sorry, love.â Price says quietly.
âOh god no!â She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.
You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.
His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.
âWeâll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,â Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldnât go with her.
Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldnât eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.
It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.
ââ
You werenât invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didnât know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how heâd walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasnât holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone elseâs partner so deeply and intimately.
Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you werenât. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.
âI canât do this without him!â She would plead, âI miss him so much.â You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.
âJohn came by today, he sends his best.â She says.
âBless him,â you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldnât come.
âYou never told me what happened with you both that night.â She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.
âSoap was right about him.â You said, âand thatâs okay.â You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.
ââ
âWhat cannot be said will be weptâ you read the quote over and over, youâd seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.
His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.
âCome in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?â
It had been 6 months since the news.
âHow are you holding up?â Price asked.
âMâokay, trying to be there for her as best I can.â
âI know it isnât easy for you either.â He said, âyouâre doing good by her, youâre a good friend.â
Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didnât feel like a good friend.
âHe was so good to her-â you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.
Youâre surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, youâre completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.
âIâm sorry love,â he whispered, âand Iâm sorry I wasnât good to you.â
âYou donât have to apologise for anything John, you havenât done anything wrong.â You sounded throaty.
âI made you believe in something I couldnât give you.â His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.
âIn another life,â you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.
âAnother life.â He says back, kissing your head.
âTake care of yourself, Johnâ you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.
Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more heâd have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasnât one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.
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Hello! I read your cassian x reader period fic and absolutely loved it! I had a request if you don't mind...
one with cassian where maybe reader has been a part of the inner circle for a while and because of this her and cassian have been really really close friends for centuriesâŠbut one day on the streets reader locks eye with a male who is her mateâŠbut the male is not cassian just some random personâŠand she is ecstatic that she has finally found her mate and someone she will be able to spend the rest of her life with because even though she has had a major crush on cassianâŠshe knows he will never return those feelings because she finds herself incomparable and insignificant compared to cassianâŠhowever later on the male wants to reject the bond because he doesn't find the reader attractive and mocks her and allâŠshe goes crying back home and cassian finds out and comforts herâŠmaybe months later after the bond with the other male was brokenâŠshe finds that the mother has given her a new mating bondâŠthat connects her to the one she has always lovedâŠCassianâ€ïž
Hi!! Thank you so much for your support! And I LOVE your idea - I hope you like what Iâve done with it!
Inbox is always open for requests â€ïž
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
The day that Rhysand saved you from the Autumn Court ranks up there with some of the best days of your life. Also up there is the day that he introduced you as a member of his Inner Circle, and your eyes first lay on Cassian.
You didnât think there was a single person in all of Prythian who would deny Cassianâs beauty. He was in an entirely different league to any male or female you had met before. What started as lust developed into a crush and, over the centuries, turned into feelings you couldnât quite describe. Although really, they could be summed up quite easily. You had fallen in love with Cassian.
You were sure Cassian did not return those feelings, but you truthfully didnât mind. You didnât want anything to risk destroying the friendship that you had with him. Cassian was the first there to pick you back up when you fell, to dry your tears and make you laugh again, to support you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. It wasnât a surprise that you ended up falling in love with him. He cared for you in a way no one ever had before, and you were so grateful to have him in your life, even if you knew it would never be how you truly wanted him.
That was why, when you were walking the streets of Velaris after dropping off a letter for Rhysand, you were ecstatic to lock eyes with a blonde male and feel the snap in your chest as the bond clicked into place. After a brief exchange, you agreed to meet for dinner that night, and you rushed back to the River House to get ready.
-
âI found my mate!â, you screeched, running through the River House door. Feyre caught your hands and steadied you.
âYou what?!â, she replied, eyes wide.
âI found my mate!!!â, you repeat, practically bouncing in her arms with excitement. Feyre grinned and pulled you into a hug as several bodies appeared behind the pair of you.
âYour mate?â.
You looked over Feyreâs shoulder and straight at Cassian. His face was contorted slightly, almost like he was in pain. You quickly raked up and down his body looking for injuries, but you couldnât see anything obvious.
âThat is wonderful news!â, Rhys smiled, reaching over to pull you into a hug. âI knew the Night Court was the right place for youâ. He winked as he let you go, and your friends took it in turns to share their congratulations and shower you with hugs and affection. Cassian approached, a forced smile on his face as he pulled you in for a bear hug.
âIâm so happy for youâ, he said. He sounded genuine, but there was something empty about it. You knew that he had hoped a few females over the years had turned into his mate, including one of Feyreâs sisters, but the Mother hadnât yet blessed him. It must be hard for him to see his friendsâ mating bonds snap and not his own.
âThank youâ, you smiled, breathless from all the love of your family. âIf youâll excuse me, I need to get ready for a date with my mateâ. You beamed as you bounced up the stairs, closely followed by Feyre and Mor who insisted on helping you get ready.
-
Your family waved you off as you left for your date. You chuckled to yourself. They were almost more excited for you than you were for yourself!
As you approached the restaurant, you saw your mate standing by the door. The closer you got, however, the more you felt a deep void in your chest. You tugged the bond as you approached him, a gasp leaving your lips as you realise your figurative hands come up short, the bond no where to be found. Your raise your head to meet his, and his eyes hold an evil gleam.
âYou must be stupider than you look if you thought I was going to accept a bond with youâ.
You freeze. This wasnât the same male you spoke with this morning, was it? Seeing your confusion, he takes a step towards you, looming over you in a way so intimidating it made you whimper.
âLook at you. I would be the most foolish man alive to saddle myself with you for all eternityâ.
Whilst you did still stick out at the Night Court, quite clearly heralding from different lands, you knew you werenât unattractive. At least, you didnât think you were?
You couldnât bear his smirk any longer. You tried to pull the bond one more time and he noticed.
âItâs gone. Maybe now the Mother will realise the error of her ways and give me a second chanceâ.
Your heart broke.
You turned on your heels and ran for the River House.
-
Your family were not expecting you back from your date so soon, so when they heard you come thundering through the front door they all stood abruptly from their chairs. You looked in at them, faces full of concern and sorrow, and couldn't bear the pity. You fled up the stairs to the guest room and slammed the door behind you.
It was only a few minutes later that you heard someone knock at the door and Cassian's scent flooded in. He didn't wait for your reply. He walked over to the bed, sat, and pulled you onto his lap. You leaned into his chest and sobbed.
"What happened?".
"He broke the bond. He said only a foolish man would want to be saddled with me".
Cassian's heart hurt as he held you cried harder, soaking his shirt with your tears. He held you closer, trembling with anger that some male you met on the street could reduce you to tears like this, could take advantage of your kind heart, could throw away the one thing that he had prayed to the Mother every night could be his - your heart. He had wished for centuries for you, for your love, to be yours. This male had it in the palm of his hands and had thrown it away.
"What's wrong with me?", you asked quietly, avoiding his gaze.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are perfect", Cassian replied back softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"Then why didn't he want me?", your voice broke as you whispered the question.
Cassian had no answer. He only held you closer and let you cry in his arms.
8 months later
With the help of your family, you had slowly begun to heal. Your heart was mended piece by piece with each bit of love and care they showered you with. Cassian was by your side every spare moment he had, doing everything in his power to make you smile, laugh. It was music to his ears. You had also resumed your duties to the Night Court, after Rhys had insisted you take a prolonged vacation to focus on yourself and your healing.
It was at one of these Night Court meetings that your life changed forever.
You were characteristically late to the monthly Inner Circle meeting, having spent far too long in the library that morning. You ran into the room, out of breath, giving a sheepish and apologetic smile to Rhys. You went to take your seat beside Mor when you heard Cassian's sharp intake of breath. You looked up at him and felt it. The snap. It was so powerful you could have sworn the entire room heard it. Your eyes locked with Cassian's as you heard Feyre gasp, realising what had happened.
"Looks like the Mother gave you that second chance", Rhys smiled, pulling Feyre into his side as they watched the pair of you process what had just happened.
"My mate", Cassian whispered.
"My mate", you replied, breathless.
Within seconds, Cassian had cleared the table, swooped you into his arms, and walked out the room with you.
"I take it we need to reschedule, Cass?", Rhys called after the pair of you, amused.
Neither of you replied, simply gazing at each other as he carried you up the stairs.
"I prayed to the Mother for you every day for centuries", Cassian confessed, tears filling his eyes. Yours mirrored, as you reached up a hand to hold his cheek.
"I prayed for you too, Cassian".
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Reader x Rindou
But reader is close to Ran. (Platonically coz cheating or being confused btwn brothers is just a big no-no fr me)
Reader gets close to Ran after she starts dating Rindou and Ran just adopts her like she's a stray kitten and makes sure his brother doesn't fuck up and that reader doesn't get jumped at night
Would love ur hcs
That sounds cute, so here are some based on Ran's relationship Rindou's girlfriend!
After being introduced to you, Ran immediately grins and starts calling you his sister (this makes Rindou blush a lot)
He third wheels you and Rindou a lot, if the two of you plan a movie night he'll definitely sit next to the two of you the whole time to also watch.
Considers himself to be in charge of you when you're all at the club and Rindou is busy doing his dj routine. Will watch out for your drinks.
Glares at any guys who dares to get close to his "sister"
Enjoys teasing both you and Rindou, one time during breakfast he asked Rindou is he was using protection and delighted in the way both you and Rindou spluttered and blushed after.
Frequently leans on you and puts his arm around you
Will bond with you by taking you to the salon with him
Sometimes asks you if Rindou's being good to you and if you like him as a boyfriend.
He has a habit of introducing you as his sister instead of Rindou's girlfriend. This causes a lot of confusion among his friends who swear that he doesn't have a sister????Â
Walks you home from places if Rindou can'tÂ
He loves telling you embarrassing stories about Rindou and showing you his baby picturesÂ
Gives you his number to call in case you're ever in any trouble and Rindou is unavailable. He takes his "sister's" safety seriously.
He likes that you're around and that he has someone else to talk to besides Rindou. Tries to fill you in on all the gossip in the neighbourhood.
Wants you to call him "big brother" like how Rindou sometimes does.
Says "i told you so" at your wedding when you actually do become his sister in law.Â
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âIâm always going to take care of you.â Alternate Version! part two!
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: part two of my series, will also be the final part in the installation.
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, depression and breakdowns, explicit details of rape and violence, mostly told in eddieâs pov, language. if i missed anything please let me know! i hope you enjoyed the reboot of this series<3 let me know your thoughts on this one, it was tough to write!
âPlease, Y/n, you canât shut me out. You canât.â Eddie was sat by your hospital bed beside you, hands holding the metal railing that was put up at the sides.
âI told you, Eddie,â Your voice broke, eye swollen, purple and red with a gleam of tears. âI donât need to talk about it.â
âDonât need to talk about it?â He repeated shockingly, more so to himself.
Youâd woke up an three hours ago, having been out for almost thirteen hours after youâd passed out. You were a completely different person. Youâd shut down, cold, unwilling to talk about what happened. You only wanted one thing, and that was to go home. Eddie didnât know how to handle it. He knew he shouldnât push you. You obviously needed time, but Eddie wasnât a patient man, and he needed you to be okay.
âPlease,â Your voice broke, looking over to him with a bruised eye, the skin around your nose red and aggravated. âI donât know what you want me to say, Eddie, but I am fine. Just forget about it and get me out of here.â
The police had been there as soon as you woke up to question you. Did you recognize your attacker? Had you ever seen him before? What was he wearing? How tall? Did he tell you his name? What was his hair color? So many questions and so little answers. You hardly remembered it, yet you couldnât seem to forget it.
Eddie had sent Wayne and all of his friends home. You werenât up for visitors. Frankly, you were scaring Eddie. You seemed pissed, angry at the world and broken, not able to be fixed. You had a look in your eye that youâd never had before.
âIâll go get the doctor.â He said tiredly. He didnât sleep a wink in that uncomfortable chair.
Eddie left you alone then, leaving the room with a heavy sigh. He found your doctor at the front desk giving check out papers to another patient. âDr. Grant?â Eddie called, gaining the female doctors attention. âHow much longer till Y/n can leave?â
âWe want to keep her just a few more hours for observation.â She checked her clipboard. âJust until we get the results of her head ct.â
Eddie nodded, not wanting to tell you the news of having to stay longer. He looked like a shell of a man, broken, eyes red rimmed and lips cracked from chewing on them. âI donât know what to, doctor.â He looked to the floor. âShe wonât talk to me.â
Dr. Grant frowned at Eddie, pulling him to the side so they could sit in the waiting room. She put her clipboard down on her lap. âMr. Munson it will take some time before y/n will feel comfortable with talking. I can assure you that itâs perfectly normal in rape victims to shut down.â
He visibly cringed at her choice of words. Rape victim. You were a rape victim.
âIâm going to give you some paper work that may help you help her.â She smiled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. âI know it seems impossible, Mr. Munson, but eventually she will be okay again. Itâll just take time.â
Dr. Grant left the pamphlets on his lap as she left for her rounds. He looked down to find brightly colored pieces of paper, the words rape and assault plastered all over them. He got up quickly when his eyes teared up, disappearing into the bathroom and shoving the papers in his pocket.
Take time, it certainly did.
âą
You acted as if nothing happened. You went on about your daily chores, cooked meals and cleaned the trailer. You were pretending, acting. Eddie couldnât pretend nor could he forget. He was trying to be patient, thatâs what the pamphlets told him. Be patient and understanding. But Eddie saw right through you. You werenât that good of an actress.
He could see how broken you were, the look in your eyes was shattered and gone. The aches in your body you pretended werenât there, how uncomfortable you were sleeping in the same bed with him. He offered to sleep on the couch and youâd nearly bitten his head off, saying you were fine and he was overreacting. All you were was angry when he talked to you. When anyone talked to you.
When it got late, when everything had been done for the day, youâd sit outside on the porch and stare up at the sky, smoking your pack of cigarettes that youâd swiped from Hopper a few weeks prior. Youâd stay out there past midnight. Eddie hadnât even seen you cry. You didnât cry or get sad, only angry. Thatâs all you ever were.
You spent a lot of time in the shower, hours at a time during the night when you thought he was asleep. He never was. Neither of you slept peacefully anymore. You were barely eating. You tried, tried to keep up appearances to prove that you were okay, but you were slipping. It was getting harder and harder.
It had only been three days, but Eddie was starting to loose it. He couldnât handle watching you fade away so quickly.
It was late when he finally had dozed off, but your absence in the bed woke him. His hand reached out to find you, only feeling the blanket and pillow. His eyes squinted in the dark, his heart beginning to race. Where were you?
He found you in the living room, one single lamp on that made your face an orange color, staring off into space with a blanket wrapped around you. Eddie frowned, turning on the kitchen light that made you jump slightly.
He tried to ignore the way you stiffened when he sat down, sitting a few feet away from you. He stared at you the entire time, trying to read your face. You looked broken. Utterly broken and so, so sad.
âSweetheart,â Eddie began, sighing deeply. âI canât keep watching you like this. Iâm trying toâŠgive you time, but itâs killing me watching you-â He stopped when he felt a lump build in his throat, not wanting to cry in front of you.
âIâm fine.â You dismissed him every time, not wanting to entertain the idea of breaking down in front of him. The mere fact he knew what happened, what everyone knew, made you feel weak and disgusting. Like a huge spotlight was on you. It was the worst feeling youâd ever felt, like you were standing naked on a stage, vulnerable and exposed.
Eddie bit his cheek and looked away. âNo, youâre not, Y/n.â He swallowed roughly, looking back to you. âAnd thatâs okay. I know you feel like itâs not, but it is. You donât have to shut me out. Please, baby, you canât shut me out.â
You squinted your eyes shut and looked to the wall. âEddie,â You begged. âI canât.â
You canât.
That was the first time you had said that. That you couldnât talk about it. Your voice had broke, just only a little. It was the first time heâd seen real emotion in three days. He didnât want to push you, but you had to let it out. There was no way you could keep on living like this. It wasnât healthy.
Eddie looked toward the window, it was pitch black outside, not even the flood lights were on. They had quit working a few weeks ago and no one had come to fix it yet. He swallowed back anxiety and nausea. âI know youâre scared-â
âNo, you donât.â You snapped, still refusing to look at him. âYou donât know how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. Theyâre just trying to be nice.â
âThen tell me, baby.â He begged, placing his hand on your knee.
You shoved it off, storming up and escaping to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as quick. The shower was turned on within seconds, then he heard you crying, trying to muffle it with the sound of your sweater, or maybe it was a towel.
You hated him. You had to. There couldnât have been no other explanation for your anger and hatred. You blamed him for what happened, for not coming to your rescue sooner, you just wouldnât admit out loud. He felt like youâd been killed that night, like your very spirit had been snuffed away like a lit match. He missed you. It was his fault. It was because of him. He was the reason your spirit was gone.
He put his head in his hands and cried.
âą
âI donât know what Iâm doing, Wayne. She wonât talk to me. Sheâll barely even look at me. She wonât let me touch her. She wonâtâŠshe wonât tell me what happened. She blames me. I know she does.â Eddie pushed out air between his lips, struggling to breath. Heâd showed up to Wayneâs mid panic attack one morning when you refused to get out of bed. The both of you almost broke out in a fight, except you wouldnât fight. You didnât have the energy. It had been another three days gone by.
He was sitting on his uncleâs old sofa, going back and forth from putting his head between his knees or fisting his hair with his hands. Wayne was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, watching as his nephew suffer through his anxiety.
âNo, buddy, she doesnât. Sheâs just hurtinâ.â He poured the coffee into his mug.
âThen why wonât she let me in?â He bounced his knee. âWhy wonât she let me help her? She blames me.â
âTry to imagine yourself in her shoes, Ed.â Wayne came over, cradling his mug as he pulled out the kitchen chair, sitting himself in front of his nephew.
âI canât.â Eddie shook his head. âI canât even begin to imagine what sheâs feeling.â
âThatâs my point.â His uncle continued, raising his mug. âYou donât have the slightest idea what sheâs going through, youâve got to give her more time. Itâs not even been a week yet, buddy. I know youâre anxious to help her. Sheâs lucky to have you.â
Sheâs lucky to have you.
He bit his nail nervously, thinking back to leaving you at the trailer, covered in blankets and refusing to get out of bed. He shouldnât have left you, but he was on the verge of another breakdown and needed his uncle.
âWhy is she so angry?â He gulped, his throat dry from his quick breathing. âIâve never seen her this angry before.â
âBecause she doesnât know how to process what she went through.â Wayne placed his coffee on the table after another sip. âWhen weâre hurtinâ, sometimes it turns to anger. I think you can relate to that, huh?â
He could. With the kind of life he led, his childhood, everything after vecna and the trauma he endured, he knew exactly what his father figure was talking about. When you hurt, when you have nothing else to feel, you get pissed off.
âą
When Eddie got back home, he knew you were still in bed. The lights were off, the tv was off. The poor fish you shared hadnât been fed yet. He quietly walked into your shared bedroom, the sunlight peering through the curtains, illuminating your face. The blankets were tangled around you, your arms hugging the pillow. You stared at the wall into nothingness, s blank look on your face that spoke volumes of emotion. You were heartbroken.
Eddie watched you for awhile, making his way to sit at the foot of the bed. He sat by your feet, putting his hand on your blanket covered ankles, squeezing them reassuringly. âHow about something to eat, huh?â
It took you several seconds to respond. âIâm not hungry.â
He would much rather you be angry than like this. A zombie, unwillingly to move or breath, not able to function or communicate with him.
âWhat about some tea?â He tried, eyes soft and round, his hand softly rubbing circles on your leg.
You cringed under his touch, shaking your head. âI donât want tea, Eddie.â
Then, Eddieâs throat filled with a ball of sick, but he quickly forced it back down. You said his name with such malice, such hatred and venom that told him everything he needed to know. You did blame him.
His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the wall. âIâm so sorry, baby.â He closed his eyes. âIâm so sorry for everything.â
Heâd said it time and time again, but his words came out in a desperation that he hadnât yet conveyed to you.
âI donât blame you for hating me.â He sniffled, his curls shaking with the weight of his shoulders. âIâm to blame and-â
âEddie, please,â You sobbed, making him practically flinch in surprise. You were crying. âStop it.â
He let out a whimper, falling to his knees so he could kneel at your head. âHoney,â He cried. âMy baby girl, I canât stand the thought of you hating me. Please, angel, just let me take care of you. Talk to me. Let me in.â He was begging you with a cracked, broken voice that made you sob right along with him.
His hand went to touch your cheek, but you flinched and sat up, bringing the blankets up to your chest. âItâs not you, Eddie!â You blubbered, snot running down your nose. âI donât hate you! You canât think that! P-please, donât think that!â
He crawled up on the bed to sit in front of you, hot tears still rolling down his face. âThen why are you shutting me out? Weâre supposed to be a team! We promised each other! You promised me and I promised you! Please, baby, I have to know what happened! Itâs killing me!â
âI canât!â You exclaimed, your tousled up hair falling at the sides. âOh, God, Eddie, I canât! I canât talk about it! I canât do anything! I just want to lay here and die!â You coiled over and wailed broken-heartedly, a song of cries that boiled out of your throat and paralyzed you. You curled up into a ball and practically screamed into the blankets. Eddie was shaking, bringing up a hand to bit as hard as he could, not knowing if you would allow him to touch you,
He placed one hand on you gently, and when you didnât pull away, he quickly gathered you in his arms. âIâm here, baby. Iâm here. Iâm here, sweetheart. Just let it out. Let it out, let it out.â
You let him hold you, and in desperation of the moment, you wrapped your arm around his leg to bring the heat of his body flush to yours. You bawled your heart out into him, emptying all your fears and sorrow.
âI- I canât stop- thinking a-bout him!â You said hysterically, your tears making his jean covered knee damp. âIt hurt so-so bad, Eddie!â It sounded like your cries caused you physical pain, your words coming out choppy and broken.
Your bruised ribs ached from your heavy sobs, your hands going to hold your stomach. âGod, oh, God, Eddie, I canât do it! I canât! I canât!â
âYou donât have to.â He said firmly, trying to control his own sobs so you could understand him. âYou give all that pain to me, okay? You give it all to me. I can handle it. You let me take care of you. Iâm always going to take care of you, sweetheart.â
Your bruised nose had started to bleed onto his jeans, going unnoticed from the both of you. You were hyperventilating, shaking and practically convulsing in his arms.
âCome on, baby,â He held you to his chest, your body still curled up against him. âItâs okay, Iâm here. Just let it out. Tell me what you need to.â
It hurt. It hurt so bad. He hurt me so bad and I couldnât stop him. Iâm so scared. Iâm scared heâs going to find me. I donât want you to look at me differently. I feel so weak. Please still love me. Please stay with me. Donât tell anyone Iâm afraid.
You cried for so many things, but he listened to every last word you had to offer him. You told him what happened. A man had followed you into the bedroom, forced you down and split your legs apart, punching you in the nose and kneeing you in the ribs, shoving himself inside you like a sword, piercing itâs way into you roughly. You had cried and cried, screamed and begged, till you didnât, finally going into shock and laying there, taking it.
Eddie had tried his hardest not to breakdown at your confession, but he could only do so much. He held you into the dark of night, promising what he had said. He was always going to take care of you.
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hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it
Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v
After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.
The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.
After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.
That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.
âHey! Thereâs the star!â He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didnât but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.
âDid you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.â When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.
Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.
Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses heâd worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.
âOh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isnât it?â Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.
âYou have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.â Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him.Â
Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.
âIâm well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipperâs down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. Weâll be leaving now.â Embarrassment spread over Jakeâs face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.
Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yousâ to all of your co stars.
He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe youâd cheat.
The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that?Â
Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.
Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off
âDid you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jakeâs fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.â Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.
âWell maybe if my husband wasnât an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!â Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.
In a heated wave of anger, Cillianâs eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.
Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him.Â
He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.
His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.
âTake me. Go on take me before I-â Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.
âNot so smart now are we love?â He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.
He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.
Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.
Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.
Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.
His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed itâs bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.
âFuck Cil- more!â All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.
âIâm sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.â
âCill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know Iâm fucking yours.â Thatâs all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jakeâs hands on you still pissed him off.
Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.
He didnât know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.
He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.
Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.
âCil-Cil Iâm going to-â You didnât get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.
When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.
Cillian was like a drug youâd never, ever want to quit.
Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze.Â
There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.
âLetâs go to bed yeah?â Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesnât feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?đ
YesâŠit makes sense and Iâm weeping over this omggggg đđđ bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally đ
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that youâre an amazing friend. Iâm beyond grateful weâve met. Youâve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but Iâm going to try.
Since we met, Iâve seen nothing but good in you and I think youâve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I donât know who Iâd be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say âgood byeâ and every time we say âhelloâ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say âhimâ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when youâre excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
Iâm in love with you.
And Iâm sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Toddâs house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, thereâs no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldnât help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. âTheyâre going to hate me. Iâm gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?â Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left itâŠhe left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasnât even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
âHoly shitâŠâ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. âNo wayâŠno way!â A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Salâs letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. Youâve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. Youâd find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. Youâd absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, heâd find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldnât get anything done, couldnât focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to SalâŠyou felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. â(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-â âSal! I-Iâm sorry. I need to talk to Sal.â You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. âMorning, (Y/N)! Sal isnât up yet. Heâs still-â
You werenât trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. âI-Iâm sorryâŠâ You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, youâre jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
âUhâŠmorningâŠâ He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. âOh I uhâŠ.yeah uh-uhm-â Sal canât seem to move his mouth correctly, canât focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes youâre in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He canât deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxietyâŠSo you speak up instead.
âI love you too.â You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. Heâs not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. âLetâs justâŠfucking kiss already.â You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldnât help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. âIâm glad you finally told meâŠthat letter was so beautiful.â You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. âI wrote 153 of those letters.â He confesses, face burning bright red. âNo you didnât.â You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
âOh yes he did!â Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. OopsâŠyou got so excited you didnât shut the door behind you when you ran in. âProof!â Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Salâs trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. âStoopppp.â He complains before youâre standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. âThatâs enough teasing. Shoo!â You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
â153, huh? Wow. Thatâs some dedication, lover boy.â You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. âWhy didnât you just tell me in person, Sal? Wouldâve been way easier.â You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. âUh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.â A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. âHa! So, What? Youâre afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?â You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. âYouâre strange. And I love that about you.â You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
âCan I read the other ones too?!â Before Sal can answer, youâve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. âNo! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!â Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. âTheyâreâŠin the trashâŠfor a reason!â He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. âPleeaaassseeeee?â You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the otherâs lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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sorry i finished new episode and i'm obsessed as ever
kabru clasping hold of laios' hands is so insane. laios doesn't remember this little twink's name, all he remembers is that this guy ate monster food with him and showed a slight enthusiasm for him, which to laios is unthinkable
it's hilarious seeing kabru's fervent obsession with and manipulation of laios' feelings and priorities contrasted with laios' depths of pain and distress at shuro's rejection of him and how that was borne of shuro hiding his true feelings
obvs for shuro like. he's explicitly introduced with a level of politeness and also emotional repression that's linked not only to his cultural upbringing in the east but is obviously related to his class position, esp bc the dungeon was meant to serve as his coming of age
or to hone his experiences for a return to rule as lord - and with his proposal to falin like. it's so interesting to me that shuro finds so many of falin's traits so desirable when she and laios genuinely are so similar
falin IS extremely high-empathy whereas laios is very low-empathy, but they find pleasure and joy and intrigue in similar things, they have similar senses of humour, they're similarly inexpressive or overly expressive depending on the moment
at the end of the day like, if you're going to propose to that girl and ask her to come back to your home country and marry you despite the fact that she's so obviously a lesbian, at the very least you have to pretend to like her brother
but like. she's quite LIKE her brother. they have the same broad frame, if laios gained a bit of weight i bet he'd have a similarly luxurious bust, they're both a bit clueless. she's just a woman and laios is just a man
but yeah sorry to move on from shuro's deep and seemingly inherent distrust, nay disgust, of other men that is no doubt informed by the extent to which he's been raised wholly by legions of women vs his inclination to see other men as rivals or opponents
(worsened by the extent to which he sees laios as naive and is offset by the extent of laios' earnestness)
but here you see the EXACT SAME THING happening to laios again in REAL TIME. someone else needs to keep him on side and so they're being polite
kabru is going beyond politeness and is outright lying and manipulating because he's just a delicious bitch that way, but like. the exact same thing is happening to laios - he thinks he's making a new friend and he is LATCHING ONTO kabru just like he did to shuro
is he being intelligent or tactful about it? no. god no. he's infodumping eagerly about monster food, he's answering all of kabru's questions - and!!! kabru is asking him QUESTIONS! he's being so ENTHUSIASTIC!!! and so laios rushes to cook for this new friend, this stranger
and inwardly kabru is horrified because jesus fuck, is this guy SERIOUS? and yeah he's serious about everything, he's earnest and eager about absolutely everything, and kabru is fascinated with this new variety of man but also... fucking hell
i think it's vital that they're introduced to one another initially in this group setting, because i think marcille, who is much naturally more distrustful, would ask more questions of kabru - and falin is very trusting but also would. twig something off about everything
i die because like. falin left home because she couldn't handle people's issues with magic and also because like. she was constantly in the position, i would have no doubt, of trying to explain laios to their family and friends, whilst also being beset by spirits
like obviously she wanted to go to magic school, but it was more than that - she needed to go out and grow and become an adult, and not do so in her brother's shadow and laios went off on his own, haplessly, and they end up together again bc they take care of each other
falin is a weird girl, she likes to play in the dirt, she accidentally does all this genius stuff, she's a little clueless and a little out of it, but to marcille and shuro, this is desperately desirable - she's beautiful, she's a genius, she's so loving
they see those things in her because they shine out of her like sunshine - especially because she's not intimidating, you know? whereas laios, blundering, autistic, selfish, obsessive laios, who talks a mile a minute and is so tall and broad, people find him to be too much
idk i just. i think for falin a big difficulty she has is actually in setting boundaries - she's always rushing to take care of laios even though it's not her job, she holds back on saying no to shuro because she hates to say no
marcille touches falin ALL over, touches her hair, scrubs her clean, holds her TIT while channelling magic, and falin is overwhelmed by it and you can see it in her face, but saying no is so hard for her - no to spirits, to strangers, to her friends, to her brother
i say this because like. they really don't interact much at all in the course of the manga but i think that kabru and falin actually have so much in common, both of them haunted by ghosts and both of them fixated more than they mean to be on laios
falin because to some extent i think she feels guilty about abandoning him to go to school even though she NEEDED that, and kabru because he's just an obsessive little homo and he can't cope with his need for laios' massive dick
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