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#and i wasn’t even trying to buy one for me it was going to be a gift !!!! evil wretched vibes from heather b.
marvel-ous-m · 2 days
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The Stuff of Our Lives
Written for @steddiemicrofic June Prompt: Stuff | WC: 483 | Teen and Up Audiences | Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Eddie Munson Has a Bad Father, Flight of Icarus Lore Mentioned
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“Do you need help with your other things, babe?” 
Steve looked at the boxes in the back of the van in response to Eddie’s question, mentally reviewing the various contents of each. 
Two for clothes, one for books, tapes, and movies, one for trinkets, and one for miscellaneous shit. 
“Nope! This is it.” Steve caught Eddie’s eye through the rearview mirror and smiled, then closed the van doors. He circled the van and climbed into the passenger seat, not noticing how Eddie’s responding smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. 
“Are we moving the rest of your stuff into the apartment later?” 
Steve frowned, feeling a pang of hurt at the implication of Eddie’s question. “There’s no other stuff. Clothes, toiletries, trinkets. That’s all there is, all I have.” 
Eddie’s eyes darted back to the rearview mirror, glancing at the five boxes that took up almost no space in the van. “No furniture or anything?” 
Steve shrugged. “I figured I’d just buy that from the secondhand shop. My parents are already pissed I’m moving out. My dad would, like, track me down if he found out that I took anything else.” Steve gave a forced laugh, which was silenced a beat later when Eddie’s hand rested on top of Steve’s knee. They fell quiet for a few minutes as Eddie carefully navigated the roads to their apartment. 
Finally, Eddie spoke. “A couple years ago my house burned down. I saved a few of my mother’s records, some books I’d had since I was a kid, but the rest wasn’t salvageable.” 
“Fuck, Eddie, I-”
“My dad didn’t care, but I did. Stuff isn’t forever, and to someone else it may just be a pile of junk, but to me, it’s a physical representation of a memory, and I can think of nothing more... significant than surrounding yourself with those memories. I had some other stuff at Wayne’s when that happened, and have made more memories since, better ones, but it was still hard to let go of those memories in that house.” 
Steve was at a loss for words, and Eddie continued. 
“I know your parents aren’t the best, that they think of things as having monetary value and not much else, but I guess what I’m trying to say is, even though you don’t have much stuff right now, that just means that we have the opportunity to get more stuff together, right? To fill our home with memories of us. You won’t be surrounded by memories of them anymore.” Eddie paused, then grimaced. “Sorry if that, like, makes zero sense-” 
Steve placed his hand on top of Eddie’s, his eyes wet with emotion and his heart warmed by Eddie’s words. “No, I get it. Our stuff, our memories.” Steve smiled. “I can’t wait to get stuff with you, Eds.” 
Eddie glanced over at Steve, offering his boyfriend a soft smile. “Same here, baby.” 
142 notes · View notes
taizi · 3 days
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okay just because we were talking about this - how do you think an asl reunion at alabasta would look like?
i hope its ok that i took this as an excuse to write an au no one asked for :')
read on ao3
x
A lot of the problems in Ace’s young life—most of them, if he was being honest—could be attributed to the shitty choices that adults around him made. 
When Bluejam grabbed Luffy by the scruff, the business end of a pistol jammed painfully into the nape of his neck, he was talking a bunch of shit about how Sabo’s dad ripped him off. He was paid to kill Ace and Luffy but he’d been short-changed, and for a man who seemed to think he was entitled to a certain lot in life, it rankled. 
“But that noble brat doesn’t make a bad ransom,” the man said, shaking a weepy Luffy in one meaty hand to shut him up, like Ace’s baby brother was nothing but a piece of dirty laundry. “If his family won’t buy him back, I’m sure someone will.”
Ace’s blood turned to ice in his veins. Whatever time Ace didn’t spend in the jungle he spent in the gutters and outskirts of the city, where every unwanted, street-sharpened child knew the risk a certain kind of stranger brought with them. 
If Sabo ended up with a slaver, Ace would never get his brother back. Pieces of him, maybe. But not the same golden boy he was right now. Not the brave, proud, secretly soft-hearted person Ace loved so much. He’d come back different if he came back at all. 
He had to compartmentalize. He couldn’t act rashly until he had Luffy back. His mind raced frantically, but he made sure it didn’t show on his face. He snatched Luffy up when Bluejam finally let him go and made his own body a wall between his brother and the men who had no compunctions about hurting him to prove a point. 
They were left to spread gasoline throughout the terminal, while the pirates made their way back down to the beach. Not one of them lingered to make sure Ace and Luffy did as they were told, and Ace should have wondered about that. Should have wondered why they were making themselves scarce, why the city gates were barred, what all those fuel canisters are for, but his thoughts were too full of other things.
That was why, the second the coast was clear, he tossed his gasoline drum aside and seized Luffy by the arms. He stooped to look right into his eyes, trying to ignore the way his chest panged at how wide and red they were. 
“I have to go get Sabo,” he said firmly. “You have to stay here.”
“Let me come!” Luffy cried immediately, predictably. “Don’t leave me behind!”
“It’ll be faster if you wait,” Ace snapped, because he didn’t want to say that Luffy was going nowhere near any ship bound for the slave market, because then he would have to explain why. Even without the Fruit that made him a special novelty in the Blues, Luffy would be snatched up by evil hands in a heartbeat. “You’re too little, you’ll just slow me down,” he said instead. 
It wasn’t nice, and when Ace had time later, he would feel bad about the way Luffy’s lip trembled. But for now, it was important that he got his point across. Every second he lingered was another inch ahead Bluejam’s crew got. Ace’s world would literally end if their ship left port without him. 
So he gave Luffy’s shoulders a push that propelled him back a step. Then he pointed in the direction of the treeline. He made his face mean and forbidding. 
“I mean it, Luffy,” he said. “Go wait for me at home.”
Luffy finally tucked his chin in a miserable little nod. Ace gentled despite himself and reached out because there were two people he would always reach out for and one of them was right in front of him.
He flicked the brim of Luffy’s hat up enough that it fell off his head, and then ruffled his hair. A gesture so familiar and well-practiced it was like muscle memory to him now. Luffy didn’t smile, but it kept the tears at bay for a bit longer, and Ace left him with another firm point back at the jungle. 
Ace was a child, doing his best to keep his tiny family together. He had a half-formed plan that he would sneak about Bluejam’s ship and find Sabo wherever he was and they would fight their way out and escape together and reunite with Luffy in time for a midnight dinner. He was a pragmatic youth, and was made wiser by the world than any ten-year-old should have been, but he was still only ten years old. He couldn’t have guessed what was going to happen. 
He would piece it together later—that Bluejam had been commissioned by the kingdom to make sure the Gray Terminal burned down, a noble title he planned to come back to collect once he had auctioned off Outlook’s eldest son to the highest bidder—that Ace had chased after one brother and left the other alone in a place that was about to go up in flames. 
When he climbed aboard the Blood Batako, he didn’t realize it would be the last time he saw Dawn Island for almost half a year. 
He didn’t realize that Luffy would wait for him right there where Ace left him, even as the fire spread into walls of flames much taller than a scrawny seven year old—frightened and crying, little hands bunched in the front of his own shirt as he choked for each breath in the thick, acrid smoke. That Dadan would find him there and haul him away kicking weakly but not screaming, because there wasn’t enough oxygen left in his body to scream. That the asphyxiation, not the fire, is what nearly killed Luffy that night. That he would spend the next week in Foosha Village tended to by their only doctor and wake up with some of his memory intact, but not all. That he would recognize Makino, but wouldn’t know Dadan. 
Ace had no way of knowing, when he and Sabo finally made their way home, well-traveled at the tender young age of freshly eleven, and relieved to see journey’s end for the time being, and looking forward to reuniting with a certain crybaby who had probably been miserable cooped up in Dadan’s country or at Party’s Bar without them, that Luffy will have been gone for months by then. 
“A cruise ship docked further up the island,” Makino says fretfully, “and a little boy who worked in the kitchens came down here to play because he said he didn’t like the way the kingdom smelled. He and Luffy were fast friends. I had no idea Luffy was planning to leave with him until I found the note he left in his room, and by then they were long gone.” 
It’s a good thing Sabo is there, because Ace’s head is just a roar of white noise. Sabo is the one who chokes out, “But—what—did—did you call Gramps? What did he say? Is he going to find him?”
“I don’t have his direct line. I’ve left a dozen messages with his office, but you know how he is,” Makino says, forgetting that they don’t, actually. “He hardly remembers that he has an office. And the number Dadan has for him is no good.”
“Why would Luffy wander off like that?” Sabo says, progressively getting louder. “Why wasn’t someone watching him?”
“He’s just been so restless since the fire,” Makino replies. “There wasn’t anything keeping him here anymore, and it seemed like he just needed one good excuse to leave.”
Sabo looks as gutted by that as Ace probably feels, hurt and confusion racing their way across his face. And Ace finally makes his contribution, in the form of a choked, “What do you mean?” which is when Makino realizes there’s something they still don’t know. 
She sits them both down at a table and holds one of each of their hands in hers, and gently explains that while they were gone, the world as they knew it had changed forever, and the happy little boy who always ran to catch up to them wasn’t running after them anymore. 
———
Ace still forms the Spades, and Sabo still falls in with the Revolutionary Army, and the only reason they don’t sail together the way they promised when they were young is because the ocean is awfully big. They have a lot of square footage to cover, and splitting up is the only way they could even hope to cover it all. 
It doesn’t occur to either of them to give up at any point. As Sabo climbs ranks, as Ace gathers a crew, both their bounties increasing every day, they continue to search faithfully. Either they’ll find him one day, or they’ll simply spend the rest of their lives looking. 
Masked Deuce says, “What about the cruise ship he left on? Did you track it down?” 
“Boarded by pirates that same year,” Ace replies. “According to the official report, it sank in a storm.”
The loaded silence says everything Masked Deuce will not say. Ace doesn’t care what someone who has never met Luffy thinks about his odds of survival at sea. If Deuce knew Luffy, he would understand. Since he doesn’t, Ace’s first mate can believe his captain is delusional all he likes as long as it doesn’t keep him from doing his job. 
Deuce turns out to be a better friend than Ace deserves. One day when Ace leaves his crew to party with some locals and sets off into town to distribute flyers and put his ear to the ground, he hears someone rumble something under their breath about a hopeless cause. He doesn’t even have time to turn around before Deuce has seemingly teleported across the bar and knocked the dissenter out cold. 
“Anyone who shares his opinion is free to get their shit and leave,” he says calmly. 
The only voices that rise up are ones who sound very offended that Deuce would lump them in with that guy, and Ace refuses to look as touched as he feels. 
When he hears word of Red-Hair Shanks in nearby waters, he tracks the man down to a wintery island and leads his crew up a small mountain to meet him. In part, he wants to thank this man who saved his little brother all those years ago. But also…
“I heard about the fire,” Shanks said grimly. “And Makino kept me updated about little Anchor until he disappeared. I’ve got eyes out looking, too, Ace. The world is big, but not so big that we’ll never find him.”
It’s a relief to know that Luffy is so loved, that more than just his brothers care if he’s ever found. But in true Luffy fashion, he explodes onto the scene when he’s good and ready. 
Ace is woken up by Deuce kicking the door of the captain’s quarters off its hinges and shoving a crinkled Wanted poster into Ace’s bleary face so that a toothy, stretching smile is the first thing he sees. 
He accidentally sets half the room on fire, a slip-up the likes of which hasn’t happened since the first week after he ate his Fruit, and there’s a lot of screaming, and someone shoves a baby Den-Den at him so he can call Sabo. From the way his nakama were carrying on, you would think it was their long-lost brother in the paper.
“I was about to call,” Sabo says breathlessly in lieu of a hello after only barely half a ring. “You saw it?”
“I saw,” Ace replies. The newspaper is rattling noisily in his hands but he can’t get them to stop shaking. “He took down Arlong Park. There are all these witness statements from the villagers. They’re saying he did it all for his friend.”
“If anyone even thinks about coming for his bounty, I’m killing everyone on the Grand Line and then myself,” Sabo says. It takes knowing him as well as Ace knows him to be able to tell over the phone that he’s crying buckets. 
“Get in line,” Ace says. If anyone so much as looks at Luffy wrong he’s burning this goddamn planet down. He can’t tear his eyes away from the poster for more than a few seconds at a time. At the urchin grin, the pencil-mark curve of a scar, this bright young man he’s never met who is so, so familiar. 
“They’re calling him Straw Hat Luffy,” Deuce says. He’s a pillar of serenity in a sea of absolute chaos, leaning on Ace’s shoulder to read with him. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now I’ll finally get to meet him.”
Which turns out to be easier said than done, because Luffy and his merry band of lunatics won’t seem to stay in one fucking spot for longer than an hour. It takes weeks to finally track that cute little caravel down to a summer island about halfway through the Grand Line, and by that time Sabo has taken a leave of absence from the Army to join him. They’re close now. They’re so close. 
Wait for me, Ace would beg him if he could, wondering if this was how Luffy felt all those times his big brothers ran ahead and left him behind. 
———
Ace never knew how heavy a heart could be when he was a child, a half-feral, angry, touch-starved thing. But now his heart is full—now it bursts at the seams, spills through his ribcage, until there’s no part of him that isn’t touched by it—and it’s the heaviest thing he’s ever carried. 
A precious burden. He’s twice the man he would have been without it. He will never, not one time in his life ever, entertain the idea of putting it down. 
But gods, Ace thinks, it would be easier, so much easier, to rip the stupid thing out of his chest and walk around a hollow shell of someone once-loved than it would be to stand here for one more minute and look down at his baby brother looking up at him like he’s a total stranger. 
“Who’s this guy?” a blond man behind Luffy mutters. With the touseled hair hanging in an artful curtain over half his face and the cigarette between his teeth and the well-cut linen suit that makes it very clear he never skips leg day, blondie gives off an air of Do Not Fuck With Me just by breathing in a way that reminds Ace of Sabo at that age. 
The swordsman beside him, called Roronoa Zoro on his bounty poster, is scowling outright, gray eyes sharp, ready at any moment to leap over Luffy like a faithful hound and dig into Ace with his teeth the second he presents as danger. 
It makes Ace feel kind of nostalgic, like he’s looking at an old photo of himself. 
He tries to focus on the nostalgic feeling, because all the rest of his brain is drowning in guilt and grief. 
Somehow, he wasn’t prepared for this moment. Years of searching, nearly half his life, and he’s finally standing in front of the person whose absence tore a hole clean out of his whole future, and he has no idea what to say. 
You look well, springs to mind, because Luffy does. His hair and skin and eyes are all different shades of brown that gleam with good health under the desert sun. He’s still skinny, but not in the waifish, underfed way of all the Gray Terminal kids. He looks like he’s been eating well. It settles something in Ace’s heart in the one tiny corner of it that isn’t breaking. 
I should have been there, is the next-most immediate thought, and it almost takes Ace’s knees out from under him. He should have been there to make sure Luffy ate well. He should have been there to save him from the fire, to help him recover from the smoke sickness, to hold him when he cried in his sleep and to take his hand when he wandered aimlessly around the village with no one to play with and nothing to look forward to. 
I’m sorry I left you, is what it boils down to, what Ace has held close and carved into his heart over the years, hating himself, hating the child he was who thought he knew better, who thought he could conquer everything without losing anything. I never should have left you. 
But Luffy doesn’t know him from any other person in this busy marketplace, his head tilting to one side like a curious little bird’s, and Ace can’t think of anything to say to him that he’ll understand. 
He needs Sabo. He’s about to become a walking fire hazard, and he’s about to mess this whole thing up, this reunion that was almost a decade in the making. Luffy’s two friends are eyeing him with mounting suspicion the longer he stands there and stares at their captain, every line of their body still the way a predator’s body stills in preparation for a pounce. Luffy, for his part, is still engaged, but only barely. His interest is slipping away—there are too many sights and smells and things bustling all around for him to want to stand still for a gawking stranger that doesn’t even have anything exciting to say.
His little brother. Crybaby Luffy. The boy who crawled under Ace’s blanket when their treehouse quaked in a storm, who held Sabo’s hand when they stayed out too late and walked home through the jungle in the dark. He’s a pirate now, a Wanted person, with a crew and a ship all his own, and he got this far without them. The last time Ace saw him was that last night in the Gray Terminal, when Ace was being mean on purpose to make sure Luffy stayed away from certain danger. 
It occurs to Ace, for the very first time, that Luffy doesn't need him anymore. That tiny seven year old grew up. 
“I saw you in the paper,” he finally says, making a concentrated effort to sound like a human being. “You’re pretty cool.”
Luffy brightens immediately. “Yeah? Are you a pirate, too?”
“I am. Made a promise to my brothers when I was a kid that we’d sail the seas together one day.”
“Wow!” Luffy says, suitably impressed. “We made a promise like that, too.” He loops both his arms through one of Blondie’s and one of Roronoa’s. “We decided way back when we were little that we were gonna stick together and become the pirate king, and the greatest swordsman, and the man who discovers All Blue!”
So one of his two guard dogs must be the little kitchen boy from The Orbit who spirited Luffy away from Foosha. The other must have come along not much later if they were all children together. Ace wants to hear the story so badly he has to clench his jaw to keep from asking. He wants to hear about everything. 
Instead, ignoring the way Roronoa’s hand closes around the hilt of one of his swords, Ace reaches out and flicks the brim of Luffy’s hat so that it slips backwards off his head. Luffy squawks, and tries to free his arms in time to catch it, and then freezes in place at the touch to his hair.
Ace ruffles it fondly, muscle memory that hasn’t corroded even after a decade, and says what he should have said the first time that sunshine child in a worn straw hat shared a wild, impossible wish; 
“I hope I’m there to see it when all those dreams of yours come true.”
If he had stayed a second longer, he would have seen the way Luffy mirrored Ace’s touch with his own fingers, frozen in place. 
Instead, Ace has officially reached his emotional threshold, and formally retreats to find his twin. They take turns being the stable one and Ace is calling dibs on being a basket case for the next month. Masked Deuce is just going to have to deal. 
Sabo got back to their meeting spot first, an outdoor table outside a tavern that hasn’t yet opened for the day, and already has their map rolled out and pinned down at the corners by various junk from their luggage. He’s marking something down and calls over a distracted hello, and Ace bleakly replies, “I found him.”
His tone is all wrong for the remarkably momentous occasion he’s announcing, so it’s not really Sabo’s fault that it doesn’t click right away. Sabo says, “Found who?” and Ace just looks at him with all his helplessness and weariness plain on his face, and Sabo drags an ink mark all across Sandy Island on the map as he whirls around and says, “You found him?” 
“It’s not going to be how we thought,” Ace says, trying to manage his brother’s expectations. They share everything, but Ace would keep this heartbreak to himself if he knew how. “It’s—I think we took too long.”
“What do you mean?” Sabo asks, hands clenching into fists and unclenching. The fountain pen is dripping ink, ruining the fine leather of his left glove. 
“He didn’t know me. I knew he wouldn’t, not really, but he—he didn’t recognize me at all,” Ace tries to explain. He feels stupid and childish and ungrateful, but really he just has no idea what to do. Luffy doesn’t know him and doesn’t need him and how is he supposed to fill a place in that kid’s life that doesn’t exist anymore? “We’ll have to—to start over from scratch, but how? How are we supposed to make someone like Luffy care about people like us? He’s sunshine personified, and deserves to have everything he wants and the best this shitty world has to offer, and we’re just—two selfish idiots who couldn’t even take care of one little kid between the two of us.” The awful truth, delivered quietly: “Luffy doesn’t need us anymore. I can’t see why he’d want us around now.”
Sabo is watching him like something carved from marble. Ace would never tell him, because it would hurt his feelings in a way nothing else ever could, but there are times when Sabo looks every bit the nobleman his biological family wanted him to be. The line of his jaw and the fall of his hair and his deep set eyes are regal, especially when he’s focused, when he’s working through a problem, when he’s the last sane voice in a room and he’s waiting for the morons wasting his time to run out of breath. 
And then his eyes flicker past Ace’s shoulder, and his expression transforms. The breath leaves him in a rush like it was punched out of him, his lips parting, blue eyes widening in a way that seems to shave whole years from his face. 
Something causes him, impossibly, incongruously, to smile. 
“Would you put money on that?” he asks. 
“What? Yes,” Ace says, thrown off by the inappropriate lightness of his tone. He feels himself start to bristle defensively. “Are you even paying attention?” 
“One of us has to,” Sabo says, only smiling wider, and Ace feels sparks falling off his fingers in sheer aggravation as he turns around to see what is so—
He has three seconds at most to take in the sight of Luffy hurtling up the hill at top speed. It’s been years and years, but three seconds is all he needs. His arms remember how to reach out and catch him. 
“I waited where you left me, but you never came back!” Luffy shouts. “You can’t be mad! I waited and waited, and then I went out to find you instead! I didn’t remember you but I had to find you! I still don’t—I still don’t know some things—but I know it’s your fault for taking too long!” 
Sabo lurches over and Luffy’s rubbery hug wraps around them both and Ace is too shell-shocked by the last minute to do anything but hug back. 
Luffy shoves his face in Ace’s shoulder, and there’s a hot, wet smear of tears there. It gives away that Straw Hat Luffy, the pirate captain worth thirty million berries, is maybe not as grown-up as Ace had initially feared. 
Sabo presses his face against the crown of Luffy’s head, too overcome to do anything but hold him. The regal young man from moments ago is long gone. The one standing here with them is that street-rat from Dawn who knew the best places to steal food from, who always made sure they never went hungry, who once shrugged off his fine winter coat at the market and traded it to a vendor for a pair of sturdy boots for Ace and thick woolen mittens for Luffy. He had shivered all the way home, where there was an extra coat in the treehouse he could use, until Luffy had the bright idea that they should all bundle into Ace’s oversized cloak together for warmth and whined until Ace agreed just to shut him up. That had been the most annoying hike up Mount Colubo in history. It’s a memory that Ace cherishes beyond reason. 
Ace whispers, “Of course I’m not mad, Lu.” It’s been ages since he was that hostile, hateful little thing who would take a bite out of anything that dared to show its soft underbelly to him. He presses as close as he can, cheek to cheek with this piece of his family that’s gone missing for far too long, and adds, “You’ve never been obedient a day in your life. If I expected anything different, that’s on me.”
Luffy laughs, and it’s snotty and choked and pure music to Ace’s ears. The kid worms closer, makes himself smaller, and lets himself be held. 
He doesn’t need his brothers. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are solid and strong. He’s already made a name for himself, and even now those two friends of his are lingering watchfully further down the road—far enough away to give the respectful illusion of privacy, near enough to make Ace and Sabo’s day a living hell if they try anything fishy. It’s probably been a long time since he’s needed someone to hold his hand or carry him home. 
But if, by some insane, undeserved miracle, Luffy still wants them…
It’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than Ace has had in ten years. 
What one piece? he thinks, arms full and aching. I’ve got it all right here. 
86 notes · View notes
airas-story · 3 days
Note
How about Stephen teaching Tony how to ice skate? (Even better if Tony already knows how but wants to spend time with Stephen.)
So, uh, this prompt has apparently been here since the beginning? But it wasn't showing on the device I was using. So I only recently found it. Anyways, I felt guilty for Tumblr hiding it, so this became a Wednesday fic (and a long one, though that was on accident) instead of a drabble.
“There is nothing in this world that could make me enjoy ice skating,” Tony said, scoffing.
Stephen raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that bet.”
Two Days Later:
“Here.” Stephen held out Tony’s thin coat—and maybe, if Tony hated the cold so much, he’d get a thicker one, but that logic had apparently escaped Tony. “Your coat.”
Tony took it, expression disgruntled. “Do we really have to do this?”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Just put on the coat, Tony. I’ve spelled it so that it should keep you warm, since apparently you couldn’t manage to buy one thick enough to actually do the job.”
Tony sighed, but put it on obediently. “It’s a coat,” he said dryly. “I’m utterly amazed.”
“We’re inside, Tony. The spells don’t need to activate, yet.” He pulled out Tony’s gloves and handed them over. “Now these.”
Tony narrowed his eyes, but accepted them. “This isn’t going to work,” Tony told him. “Sure, maybe I won’t be cold, but I’ll still fall on my ass a few times and bruise and decide I hate the whole thing.”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “You’re being such a bad sport about this.”
“Excuse you, no one said I had to be a good one! In fact, it’s in my own favor not to be.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Stephen told him. “You can try to sabotage our date, but I’m still going to win.” He had every reason to be confident. 
Tony was a romantic, after all, and Stephen was more than willing to play into that.
Now that Tony was properly dressed for the occasion, Stephen opened them a portal. He’d chosen an ice skating rink outside of New York where it would be a little less populated, and that Stephen’s googling had informed him was doing a ‘couple’s night’.
Tony was grumpy the whole time they chose their skates, but so long as he was cooperating Stephen wasn’t going to call foul. Every reluctant concession was going to taste all that sweeter when Tony conceded Stephen the win.
“When I fall and break a bone, I want you to remember that this was all your fault,” Tony told him as he wobbled on the blades towards the rink. “And then when I complain for the next month about my limited mobility I expect you to be a patient and loving boyfriend about it.”
Stephen snorted. “Does that really sound like me, Tony?”
“Not really,” Tony admitted. “Your bedside manner continues to be atrocious. But you’re going to have to try, anyways.”
“Noted.”
He took Tony’s hand and stepped onto the ice, carefully pulling Tony with him.
Tony let out a startled eep as he immediately slid on the ice. His arms came up as though he was on a balance beam to try to stabilize himself.
Stephen tried not to laugh at the image, instead teasingly nudging Tony into proper form.
They made it around the rink once and Tony looked at the exit longingly. Stephen just tugged him along. “Not so fast,” he told Tony. “You’re giving this a shot.”
“Only because this is you,” Tony told him. “And only because when I win this bet, I want to have won fair and square.”
Tony stumbled over his skates, nearly taking them both down. Stephen managed to balance them as Tony let out a creative round of curses. “Told you.”
“You haven’t broken a bone yet,” Stephen pointed out. “You’re fine. Just glide, Tony.”
“Just glide,” Tony mimicked. “Because that explains so much.”
Stephen let go of Tony’s hand, and skated ahead before he turned around to skate backwards. “Eyes up, Tony. Stop looking at your skates. Look at me.” 
Tony’s eyes came up so that he was looking forward instead of down. “Of course you can skate backwards. Show off.”
“It’s not that hard, Tony. Just because you can’t do it…”
“I could learn if I wanted to. I just don’t want to.”
The Christmas music that had been playing switched to a slow love song as an employee went on speaker to inform the skaters that the general population skating time was over and that couple’s night had begun.
Tony sent him a narrowed eyed look. “Oh, you’re playing dirty.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stephen countered. “But if I were playing dirty, then that’s only to be expected.” 
They made it around the rink two more times and Tony’s skating was starting to smooth out as he figured out the movements and his awkwardness faded.
Stephen went back to skating normally, taking Tony’s hand again.
“Not so bad, is it.”
Tony let out a disgruntled noise. “You haven’t won this bet, Stephen.”
The outdoor lights came on as the sun started to fade.
Stephen glanced at Tony to see a faint smile around his lips. “Your spells are holding out marvelously,” Tony told him. “It’s not even cold.”
“Of course they are. They’re my spells.”
“You know that doesn’t work on me. Wong has told me too many stories for that. Like that time when you almost broke reality by playing with an infinity stone.”
Stephen scowled. “They really should put the warnings before the spells. And I didn’t break reality, so really, you’re proving my point.”
Tony laughed, stumbling for a moment before catching himself. He was too amused, at the moment, to even complain about the near fall. 
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same,” Stephen added.
“I read,” Tony protested.
“Not far enough ahead,” Stephen countered. “Your curiosity would absolutely have you trying spells before you got to the warning sections.”
That started a heavy debate on which of them was better at following instructions and using the necessary safety parameters.
The answer was that neither of them were particularly good at it.
Tony sighed, breaking their moment. “I suppose,” he said, tone one of pure annoyance. “That I have no choice but to concede.”
Stephen smirked in victory. “You know you never had a chance, right?” Stephen told him. “I am perfectly willing to exploit your weaknesses.”
“And what weakness did you exploit?” Tony asked, tone mulish. “Because that’s a weakness I need to get rid of.”
“Me,” Stephen said simply. “You were skating with me, so of course you were going to end up loving it.”
That earned him a pained face. “Well, that’s unfortunate. I can’t exactly get rid of that weakness, can I?”
“No,” Stephen agreed. “I’m afraid I’m here to stay.”
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enhas-pov · 2 days
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prisoner
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summary: mafia sunghoon is way too overprotective and possessive over his girlfriend, he wants to keep her all to himself
warnings: kidnapping(?), swearing, yandere behaviour, stalking
word count: 2.1k
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when i said yes to being sunghoon’s girlfriend, this isn’t exactly what i expected. i thought he would take me out on dates, buy me flowers, ask me to marry him and maybe even have his kids, but no. i’ve been held captive in his home for 3 years now, sort of. he does allow me to go outside obviously but i have rules. i always have to be with his body guards, i’m not allowed to wear revealing clothing, no drinking, no smoking, and no interacting with others. i’m basically his prisoner. besides that, i almost never get to spend time with sunghoon. he’s always out doing illegal shit while i’m stuck at home all miserable. tho when he is home, he’s either too tired or stuck in his office doing whatever on that stupid computer of his.
i was sat in the living room watching a movie when i suddenly heard the sound of sunghoon’s voice. “hi baby” i felt him place a kiss on my temple before taking his coat off. “hi. how was your day?” i ask him, pausing what i was watching. “exhausting. how about you?” he sat down next to me, threw his head back on the couch and placed his legs on the coffee table. “boring as usual” i was sulking which made him pick his head up to look at me. “it’s been months since you last left the house, of course you’re bored” i wanted to tell him that i was tired of being treated like his very own doll, but i wasn’t sure if that would make him upset or not. i placed one of my legs over him and wrapped them both around is waist so that i was sat on his lap. he cocked his head at me before bringing his hands down to my waist, squeezing me. i wrapped my arms around his neck and brought my hands up to tug on his hair. “hoon.. i was wondering if maybe we could go out? just you and me, together. as a couple” i bit down on my lip, not sure of what he was gonna say. “you mean you want me to take you out on a date?” he raised his eyebrows at me before i nodded in response. “___. you know i’ve got a busy schedule“ i gave him a pouting look which made him sigh. “i’ll try to make some time for you tomorrow, okay? but no promises“ i felt my face lit up, i was so happy that i was finally gonna spend some quality time with my boyfriend. “i love you, hoon” smiling at me, he looked happy as well. “i love you too, princess”
i looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t stop smiling. i finished doing my makeup, i was dressed and all ready to go on my date with sunghoon. as i made my way down the stairs, my smile dropped when i saw sunghoon stood with his bodyguards. i thought it was just gonna be the two of us? “sunghoon?” he turned around and a smile appeared on his face when he saw me. “you look beautiful, ___.” he walked towards me and placed a kiss on my forehead, i was still confused to why his bodyguards were here tho. “i thought WE were going out?” he looked a little embarrassed, like he didnt know what to say. “baby, listen. something came up, and i felt really bad so i thought you could still go out, just not with me..” is he serious? who doesn’t have time for their own girlfriend? i crossed my arms and rolled my eyes at him. “i’ll make it up to you, okay?” he tried to kiss me, but i faced the other way so his lips met my cheek. he pulled away disappointed, but still made his way to the door and left. whatever, i did my makeup and got dressed so i might as well make the best out of it. i looked over at the 3 bodyguards i was left with, heeseung, jake and niki. i pushed my way through them and made my way outside to where the car was parked. “here you go-“ jake was kind enough to open the car door for me but i was still pissed, so i slammed the door shut after me. heeseung and jake were sat in the front while niki was sat behind with me. “where would you like to go, ___?” heeseung asked me, who had started driving the car. i didn’t feel like talking, so i just shrugged my shoulders. “how about the city? it’s where you always wanna go” niki suggested. i turn to him and slightly nod before turning back. “the city it is”
i had been walking around and doing some shopping for about an hour now and i guess it wasn’t that bad, i did need new clothes and stuff. “hold this for me please, need to use the restroom” i handed the bodyguard my shopping bags and sprinted quickly to the bathroom. after i finished, i was washing my hands when i noticed the window being open to let the fresh air in. i stared at it for a couple seconds before i shook my head. jumping out the window and running away so i can finally be free? no, that’s just dumb. i love sunghoon, i don’t need to escape.. i dried my hands and was about to leave the restroom when i stopped. i looked back at the window again, should i? sunghoon basically controls me and everything i do, i want to be my own person.. fuck it. i walked over to the window and climbed my way out of here. the second my feet touched the grass, i started running. where to? don’t know.
“it’s been 15 minutes. should we check on her?” jake asked the two other bodyguards who were with him. “we can’t just barge in. it’s the ladies room after all” heeseung suggested that they should wait a little longer before doing something they might regret or get in trouble for. “sunghoon said that we should always keep an eye on her though. who spends 15 minutes in the restroom anyways?” niki who was holding her shopping bags asked. “women” heeseung responded. “look. i don’t want to walk in there and get accused of being a pervert if nothing’s wrong. but if something is wrong, all three of us will get in way more trouble” jake sounded concerned. was he worried about, ___. or was he scared of what sunghoon would do to him? “alright, but i’m not going in there” heeseung raised his hands. “and i have to carry these” niki waved the shopping bags that he was holding. when jake walked over to the ladies restroom and opened the door, he sighed in relief when no one was there. wait, no one? he started panicking and looking around to see if she was in any of the empty bathroom stalls, but she was nowhere to be found. “shit, shit, shit-“ he froze for a second when he noticed the window that was open. no she didn’t, he thought to himself. “guys” jake hurriedly walked back to heeseung and niki, you could see panic all over his face. “what? did you walk in on her?” niki and heeseung were laughing, but this wasn’t funny. “shut the fuck up, she’s not in there. i think she might’ve jumped out the window..” they went from laughing to going silent, their eyes widened. “what are we supposed to do?” niki asked, you could tell he was freaking out. “sunghoon is gonna kill us” jake said as he kept on walking back in forth. “calm down. you’re making this so much worse by panicking. let’s go around looking for her, and if we can’t find her then we HAVE to call sunghoon. got it?” after heeseung calmed the boys down, they quickly separated and started looking for ___ right away. unfortunately they were unsuccessful. there was no sign of ___, she was gone. and there sunghoon was, stood in front of heeseung, jake and niki who were lowering their heads in shame (and fear). “you’re telling me you just lost her?” sunghoon sounded surprisingly calm, considering his girlfriend was nowhere to be found. “she went to the restroom and- i think she escaped through the window..” jake was very much struggling to get his words out. sunghoon nodded and placed his hand on jake’s shoulder. “just be more careful next time” he left after that. the 3 boys were confused, was that it? they didn’t know that the reason to why sunghoon was so calm, was because he was tracking his girlfriends phone down which she always had on her.
“where am i..” i was in the woods somewhere, it was 12am and it was really dark. not gonna lie, i was kinda scared. suddenly, i felt a shiver run down my spine at the sound of footsteps. am i not here alone? who else would be in the woods at 12am. i started speeding up my pace when i heard the footsteps getting closer and louder. i froze when i heard my name being called out. “___, baby i know you’re out here. if you come back home with me i promise you won’t get in any trouble” sunghoon? how did he.. i knew sunghoon was overprotective and all but this? he’s lost it and he’s fucking insane. i was never really scared of him, only when he’s mad. but right now at this very moment, i was too scared to face him. i started running when i accidentally tripped over a stupid rock. when i tried to get back up, i was met with a tall figure stood over me. “are you trying to run away from me?” the way he was talking to me. he sounded different, it was making me uncomfortable. “sunghoon..” still sat on the ground, i was trying my best to back away but he would just slowly walk towards me. when my back hit a tree, he crouched down in front of me. “you shouldn’t have done that, you know?” he brought his hand up to my face, but i slapped it away. it wasn’t on purpose, i was just scared. he shook his head and chuckled before gripping my arm. it was starting to hurt, i kept on moving my arm around while he was just blankly staring at me. “let go!” i gasped when i had accidentally hit him across his face making him fall back. yelling at him and then hitting him? i was done for. “i-“ “fucking bitch..” i quickly got up before he did and started running again, i kept on looking behind me to see him chasing after me. being chased by my own boyfriend in the woods at 12am wasn’t the date i was expecting. when i no longer had a sight of sunghoon, i quickly hid behind some bushes. i sat down and put my knees up to my chest, i covered my mouth and all i had to do now was to wait. if he thought i left the woods he would leave too, right? i closed my eyes shut when i heard the sound of his voice, he was near me. “you can’t hide from me, ___!” he yelled out. i could hear the anger in his voice and it was really scaring me. i didn’t notice how i had tears rolling down my face until i accidentally let out a sob, and even tho i was covering my mouth it was loud enough to hear. it went completely silent, i didn’t hear his footsteps or his voice. was he finally gone?
“there you are” i jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, shit. i slowly looked up to see sunghoon stood over me with a smirk on his lips. “come on. get up” he reached his hand out for me to take, i knew that if i didn’t there would be consequences. and i had already fucked up badly. i put my shaky hand in his and he was quick to pull me back up on my feet. he pulled me in closer to him and hid his face in my neck while his hands were roaming all over my body. “i can’t trust you now” he leaned away from my neck and looked me in the eyes. the look he had on his face was cold. tense, maybe. scary? intimidating? i don’t know. “hoon, i’m sorry..” i was shaking and crying in his arms. “shhh. you will be” he placed a soft kiss on my lips before pulling away with a serious look on his face. he wasn’t planning on hurting me, right?
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huskthebarcat · 3 days
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Help
This is my FIRST Hazbin Hotel (huskerdust) fanfic so… what do you think?
⚠️SWEARING⚠️
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If there was one thing Husk hated more than  having his soul owned, it was getting help. To the drunk cat, getting help from others showed his weakness, how useless he was. Even a simple task, Niffty asking to help him clean up or, Charlie wanting to help unload the bar, he would decline their offers, afraid of seeming powerless.
One fateful late night at the hotel, Husk gave up on waiting for Angel Dust. The cat had watched the clock tick over and over again until hours had passed. “That asshole ain’t coming.” He murmured to himself as he packed up the bar. “He doesn’t give a shit about you.”
Earlier that day, Angel had promised Husk that they could have drink (or two) with each other. After all, Angel had been “too busy” to show up for the past week. Husk sighed. He thought they had something, but he was just a pathetic drunk bartender and Angel was his costumer.
Just as Husk was about to put the final glass away, he heard the slight sound of static from behind him. Shit. Husk swiftly turned around and saw none other than his boss. “My, my, Husker,” Alastor said in his stupid voice. “Seems like your little boyfriend didn’t show up today.” Husk’s face scrunched up. “For the final time, he is NOT my boyfriend!”
Husk hated when Al made comments about him and Angel. I mean their friends, nothing more. Alastor’s grin became larger. “You say that with a quite flustered look on your face, hm?” Husk rolled his eyes and kept cleaning. That only made Alastor want to mess with Husk more.
“Too bad you can’t run away with him,” The demon said. ”I’ve got you here on contract.” Husk grinded his teeth. That asshole. Husk couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re also here on contract, you’re not any better than me.”
The moment Alastor heard Husk, the cat knew that he was in deep shit. The same green chains Husk was oh so familiar with wrapped around his neck, pulling him to be face to face with the Radio Demon. “Husker,” Alastor said. “You know what I can do to you, correct? You better not be making any comments about my life…”
Husk swallowed “Understood.” He said, shaking. The chains disappeared and so did Al. Husk took a shaky breath in when the doors opened up. “Hey Husky,” Said the cocky voice of Angel Dust. “Are ya closing up shop or can I get a- woah! Husk! Are ya alright?” Angel ran over to the bar and grabbed Husk’s paws. “Woah, woah, woah. Breathe, Husk, breathe.”
The cat’s panicked, fast breaths turned into deep, slow breaths, but he was still shaking. “Husk?” Angel said, still holding the bartender’s hands. “Ya alright? Was it-… was it Al…?” At the mention of Alastor, Husk’s eyes teared up. He swiftly pulled his hands out of Angel’s and covered his face. Shit, that bastard’s going to tease him for this.
To Husk’s surprise, Angel just sits there, letting Husk cry like a three year old. Once Husk takes one final sniff, Angel pulls the cat’s hands away and wipes away the remaining tears. “Husk,” Angel said. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, just let me bandage your neck, it’s bleeding all over ya.” Husk pulled Angel’s hands away. “Shit. Please, I’m fine. I…” Husk said, trying to cover up his little breakdown. “I don’t need your help. I just got scratched up a bit, that’s all.”
Angel wasn’t buying it. The spider grabbed Husk’s arms and took a close look at his neck. “Husk,” Angel said. “Ya didn’t just get scratched up. You need to let me help you.” “I can do it myself.” “I don’t want you to get hurt and not fucking tell me-!“ “Why do you have to care so fucking much!?”
Angel was shocked. What did he mean by “care so much?” The bartender realized what he’d done. “Fuck. Angel, I…” Husk felt tears welling up in his eyes. Again? Why did he have to be so sensitive? Angel pulled Husk into a warm embrace. “Sh, sh, it’s okay.” Angel said, stroking Husk’s fur. “I understand how ya feel. You don’t need to feel useless when ya need help, Husk. Everyone needs it sometimes. You help me whenever I have a rough time with Val. Why can’t I help you?”
Husk began to sob into Angel’s chest. “Let it all out.” Angel said, patting Husk’s back. “I’ll fix up ya wound and we can have a drink, hm?” Husk nodded, sinking his face into Angel. The whole room filled with Husk’s purr through the sobs. “There, there.” Angel said, “Let me take good care of you. Ti amo.”
Wow… that took me 3 hours wtf.
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mlmarint · 16 days
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not me actually thinking eddie was REALLY JUST dreaming
like i was absolutely SHOCKED when marisol and chris walked in. I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE THE EPISODE TO PROCESS THAT SCENE LIKE AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION THAT HAPPENED????
not even for a SECOND i thought kim would could actually change her hair and pretend to be like what??? a ghost of a mans dead wife,????she met him like a week ago??
the level of insanity that this plot is like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
this is it
this might be the end of my eddie apologist era
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really wish my one friend would quit flirting with me. and trying to goad me into hanging out more. and assigning us fictional characters that are oh-so-coincidently either couples or with romantic tension. and then interrupting our gameplay to ask me repeatedly if I think they’re “like us” (which they rarely are…). and matching my icon on discord without asking (again, usually by insinuating a couple connection). and giving me random things I do not want and did not ask to receive (and then forcing me to take them???).
#storyrambles#it’s not creepy. just for context. it’s just irritating because I’ve told this person repeatedly that I’m not interested in romance.#this person is also naturally a huge romantic so it is next to impossible to tell whether it’s actual flirtation or just flirting for fun#flirting for fun is cool. I wouldn’t mind that. but if I do it once this person will take that as an invitation to do it an excessive amoun#but yeah after being given 12 roses out of the blue when I said ‘no don’t buy me flowers’. there’s only so many things that can mean#‘it’s nice to see your face you always cover it!’ …I’m masking. because of covid#I’m narrating a game and suddenly ‘I like hearing your voice I should call you every day so I can hear it for 10 minutes’. …no.#‘you have to take the snack I brought you know it’s rude to refuse a gift’ I have never refused a gift. It is rude. But also I didn’t ask.#‘you know this game is one you can play without talking so we can play more often!’ we already play games once a week for usually 3 hours.#‘but it’s not talking so it’s less social energy’ no. that is not how it works.#sorry for the rant im just. tired.#you know those people who are so pleasant to hang out with and then they try way too hard#and that’s actually what makes things awkward? rather than when they’re just being themselves?#yeah. that’s this friend here.#usually I go along with the bit but when I can never tell when the bit is actually a bit#and you insist on me taking on the ‘girl role’ for most of them#I am not going to play along.#UGH don’t get me started on the ‘you’re cute when you’re flustered’#I wasn’t even flustered. I was trying to do mental math while running on four hours of sleep and he was staring directly at me#it’s uncomfortable.#also. I never want to hear that again. fuck. ‘you’re cute when you’re angry’ ‘you’re cute when you’re upset’ ALL THE FUCKING TIME AS A KID#will I be so cute after I kick you in the nuts? will I?#(for clarity I don’t want to kick him. I want to kick those other people.)#I need a lot of alone time. I really do. I can do 3 hours and then I will be drained for the rest of the day.#‘how did you grow up? did you not talk to your mom for more than 3 hours a day?’#first of all. that’s different?#secondly we actually regularly do separate things without talking to each other. or go in separate rooms to take some time to ourselves#also I don’t have to be on high alert for if I’m going to be flirted with. so.#ugh. I like him as a friend. I really do. I know this all makes it seem like the opposite. I try so hard to be as nice as possible.#but UGHHHHHH
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strohller27 · 2 years
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.
#I wasn’t going to be petty and make a post about this on the etherwebs but YKNOW WHAT#I signed up for a very specific job at the office I work at#I have pretty clearly defined responsibilities and I can handle them#my issue is that I do try to take on too much extra stuff and I’m trying not to do that#it’s a slow process because I like being the yes man#but the ONE TIME I try to refuse something because I recognise that I can’t handle it#I basically get guilted into doing it anyway AND NOT EVEN BY MY BOSS (lbr she would never)#BUT BY SOME NEW LADY I DON’T EVEN KNOW#she drags me into a meeting with her supervisor and they both basically go ‘I see that you’re saying you can’t do this but you have to?’#‘you need to talk to your supervisor about taking on less work’#LISTEN I am only doing what I am supposed to be doing and I am LITERALLY trying not to take on too much work RIGHT NOW DO YOU NOT SEE THAT#but obviously this lady doesn’t see it that way and she convinced her boss not to see it that way either#and she keeps saying ‘oh but you don’t have to do all of this I just need you to do some of it’ *points to a lot of extra work*#‘that’s not too much right?’ Bitch. it doesn’t fucken matter now#I tried to say no. you said I can’t say no. so YOU TELL ME what to fucken do bitch. I could care less about this little project#that you want me to ‘buy into’. I’m sorry bitch I am out of brain currency do your own fucken job#leave me out of it#I would like to do a violence#instead I think I shall derail her training by bringing free pizza#say ‘hey you *said* you needed me to buy into this training! now I’ll be needing you to reimburse my buy-in!’#kill ‘em with petty petty kindness
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theoryofreligion · 2 years
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if he’s not avenging your honor on facebook marketplace then what is he even doing
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chosocutegf · 3 months
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roommate!Suguru x f!reader
cw: voyeurism, smut
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I’m always thinking about roommate!Suguru, and the fact that he would be so obsessed with you.
At first, when you just moved in, he wouldn’t spare you of even a glance and he only spent time with his friends, Shoko and Satoru. However, as time went on, Suguru started to warm to you and you two got to hang out more together. That’s how he became interested in you.
And for suguru being interested meant he was obsessed with you.
Not that you would realise of course, he made sure of never raise your suspicions, but he stopped bringing people at home and only wanted to be with you. he would want to know what you always did, who you hung out with, and where you went.
You noticed something was different with Suguru, when he started to get more touchy. Every moment was an occasion for him to touch you.
You were passing in front of him? Smack on your ass.
You were trying to reach something on a higher shelf? He pressed his body against yours from behind and took it for you, a grin on his face.
You were going out and needed to put a necklace on? He was ready to do that, and he made sure to caress the nape of your neck and hair when he was done.
You didn’t really understand what he wanted from you, until a special event happened.
Suguru caught you touching yourself while talking to another person. It was not his fault he caught you, okay??? You left the door slightly ajar, as if you were inviting him to watch you.
And so he did. He observed you from the little crack of the door, while you panted sitting on top of your sheets, unaware of his presence. Your legs were spread open and he could clearly see your little fingers rubbing your pretty pussy.
He cussed under his breath and reached down to rub his cock over of his pants. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste your pussy himself. He listened patiently to your conversation at the phone, while you bit your lower lip, trying to reach that orgasm that the other person was trying to guide you to.
However, it never happened. And Suguru noticed how you faked your orgasm in order to make the call end.
So, the moment you put down the phone, your roommate stepped into your room. Your eyes widened and you close your legs to hide your wet pussy and swollen clit when you saw him, your face burning. “Suguru! Get out!,” you screamed flustered but it only made Suguru chuckle as he approached your bed.
“Who were you talking to?,” He asked teasingly as he sat at the end of the bed. You were still blushing and looked at him with a little pout. “No one,” you murmured, looking away and missing how his cock throbbed in his pants at your indifference and pretty pout.
“They sure were no one if they didn’t make you come… Now let me take care of you, mh?,” He insisted as he slid closer to you on the bed, still not touching you. When you looked back at him, you sighed… why not? You felt restless and disappointed from the person you were talking to, and the man you had in front of you was far much better than them.
Skip forward, that’s how you found yourself laying under your roommate in mating press, your ankles almost reaching your face, and him pounding inside you so hard that you could feel his fat cock inside your stomach. You pleaded him, after so many orgasm, but Suguru wasn’t buying any of that. He wanted your pussy to form around his cock, so that you would never forget that you belonged to him.
He looked down at you with that annoying sexy smirk, sweat dripping down his forehead, and his hair all around him. “Who owns this pussy, baby?,” He asked breathless, observing how your teary eyes were looking up at him, and a fucked out expression on your face.
“S-Sugu… my p-pussy is yours, please… I can’t,” you cried out, sinking your nails in his shoulders. He hissed at the delicious pain, pistoning his cock inside of you faster, almost reaching your cervix. “Fuck, yeah… all mine, princess,” he panted against your face, laughing.
And that’s how he got you full with his cum, your belly swelled from how much he came inside you. He couldn’t stop looking at his cum coming out of your abused hole, and your spent up body over your sheets. “You’re fucking mine, doll… I will stuff you full with my cum to remind you every day~” he smirked, leaning down to bite your inner thigh before getting up to get a cloth to clean you.
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tootiecakes234 · 5 months
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“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.
“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.
“Where ya at?”
“In the game room.”
So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.
“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.
“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.
“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”
“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.
You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.
“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.
“No.”
“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“
And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”
“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”
“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”
“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.
“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .
“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.
“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”
You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.
So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.
He is allowed to say no.
“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.
“Yeah she is.”
“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”
“I’ll tell her.”
And with that you head toward the door and leave.
Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.
You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.
After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.
Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.
“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”
“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.
“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”
“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”
“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”
And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”
“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”
And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.
You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.
He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.
Katsuki Masterlist
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julietsbody · 5 months
Text
innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.
tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment
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coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.
he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.
what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”
“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”
he clears his throat, “sorry?”
“do you—“
“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“
“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.
you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.
“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”
he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.
loud incorrect buzzer.
he doesn’t!
coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.
“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.
he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”
“cocaine,” you swallow.
“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”
he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.
you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”
he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”
“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”
he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”
a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.
“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.
you bat your lashes at him, “what—“
“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.
you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”
he nods, “‘m positive.”
“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.
you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”
“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.
“good girl.”
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.
sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.
isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.
a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.
sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”
coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”
“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”
“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”
arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.
sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.
coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.
he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.
festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.
coriolanus heard his sex is never good.
funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.
coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.
what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.
coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”
you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”
“princess?” festus snickers.
coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”
coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”
festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”
coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”
your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.
festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”
his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.
“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.
so you do.
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.
“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”
“sometimes—“
“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”
it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.
“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.
his tone is softer now, “why?”
“i didn’t know—“
“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”
you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”
your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”
his lips drop to a frown, “why?”
your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”
“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”
“what? why not?”
“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”
“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.
“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.
“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.
you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”
then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”
“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”
“that’s okay—“
“—i’m bad news—“
“—i don’t think that—“
“—i’m dangerous, doll.”
you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”
you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.
“you know how to chop up cocaine?”
you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”
“i’ll show you.”
and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”
he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”
“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.
“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”
“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.
he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”
you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”
your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”
“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”
“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”
“do you want it?” you pause your movements.
“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”
you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”
“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.
you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”
you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”
“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”
he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”
he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.
to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.
yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?
the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?
he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”
he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”
“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.
“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”
of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.
his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”
“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.
“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.
he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”
his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.
it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.
how cute.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.
you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”
he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”
and it’s true, you really were special.
you were a dangerous man’s doll.
4K notes · View notes
viennakarma · 4 months
Text
Something you paid for
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.
So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.
After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.
A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.
Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.
You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.
A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.
He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 
You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.
You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.
“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”
“Is she a gold digger, really?”
“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”
“Has anyone warned Fernando?”
“Everyone.”
You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.
You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.
When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.
“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.
“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”
“Even two,” he joked.
You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.
“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”
You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.
In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.
After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.
“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.
You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.
Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.
When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.
“Dear, can we get the tab please?”
“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”
Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”
“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”
“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.
“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”
You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.
You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.
Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.
When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.
Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.
“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”
He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.
“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.
“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.
“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.
“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.
“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?
“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”
Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.
“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”
You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.
“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”
“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”
His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.
“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”
“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?
“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.
“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”
He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.
“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”
You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.
“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?
“Fernando.”
“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.
You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.
Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 
Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.
What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?
You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.
After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.
It was time to fix it.
Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.
“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He paused, looking at your face.
“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”
“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.
“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”
He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.
“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”
“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”
“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.
“I’m serious, Fernando.”
“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”
“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”
“You took them.”
“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”
“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”
You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.
“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”
“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”
“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”
“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.
“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”
In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.
“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”
“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”
You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.
“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 
Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.
You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.
You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.
Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.
He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.
The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.
-
Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.
“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.
“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.
“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”
“No- no- I guess we broke up.”
“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.
“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 
Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.
“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.
“What rumors?” George paused.
“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.
“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.
“I might have implied that I agree with that.”
“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”
“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”
“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.
“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”
Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.
“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.
“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.
“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”
“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”
Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.
Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.
Home didn’t feel like home without you.
In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.
You had returned every single thing.
And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.
It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.
-
While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.
You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.
Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 
“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”
After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.
“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.
“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.
“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”
Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.
“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.
“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”
Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.
With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.
One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.
“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”
You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.
“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.
“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”
You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.
“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”
He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.
“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.
“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”
You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.
“Come back home with me, princesa.”
At that, you took a step back.
“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”
“What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.
“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.
“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.
“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”
He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.
And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 
Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.
You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.
You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.
“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”
“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”
He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.
As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 
“What do we do about all your gifts?”
“Give them away,” you shrugged.
“Can I convince you to take it back?”
“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”
You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.
“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”
“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.
“You won’t.”
Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(
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junislqve · 14 days
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ᯓ million dollar — ot7
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syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)
pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi
notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately
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LEE HEESEUNG
“take as much time as you want, love”
earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.
your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.
heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.
“do you need a new dress, love?”
after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.
and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.
heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.
walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.
“spend it all on anything you want, baby”
PARK JONGSEONG
as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.
jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.
you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.
it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.
“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”
you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.
right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.
you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.
when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.
“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”
SIM JAEYUN
“but you look so good in these, babe”
opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.
the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.
you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.
“i seriously need to go on a ban”
“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.
“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.
“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.
that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.
“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.
“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”
PARK SUNGHOON
as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.
and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.
you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.
when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.
even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.
on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.
“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”
KIM SUNOO
sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.
it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.
sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.
but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.
he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.
so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.
with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.
“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”
YANG JUNGWON
he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.
it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.
anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.
his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.
both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.
“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.
“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”
NISHIMURA RIKI
as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.
he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.
you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.
the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.
“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.
“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.
silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.
“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.
he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.
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© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.
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zephyrchama · 1 month
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(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again
---01
It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.
Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.
Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.
---02
Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.
He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.
He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.
---03
Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.
He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”
You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.
Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.
---04
Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.
“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”
You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.
---05
Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.
When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.
As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.
---06
Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.
One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.
It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.
---07
It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.
The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.
Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”
Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.
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Of Oblivious Minds (3)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst
a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
~~
Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 
A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 
He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.
He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 
Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 
So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 
He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 
Not that you would reciprocate either. 
You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 
His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 
But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 
“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 
“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 
Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 
“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 
Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 
Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 
“When can I leave?” 
Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 
Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 
“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 
“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 
You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 
“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 
A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.
He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 
He committed it to memory. 
“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 
Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 
Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 
“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 
“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 
His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 
Azriel had had enough of distance. 
He nodded his head all the same. 
And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 
You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 
Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 
“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 
And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.
It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 
“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 
“Of course.” 
“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 
Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 
Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 
“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 
“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 
Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 
“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 
He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 
He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 
There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 
Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 
Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 
And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 
The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.
Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 
And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 
He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 
He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 
The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 
He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 
“Late night then, Az?” 
You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 
Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 
It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”
The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 
The months following were different. 
Everything was different. 
But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 
Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.
That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 
And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 
“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 
The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 
“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 
“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 
The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 
“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.
“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 
“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 
Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 
“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 
The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 
“I think forever.”
Part 4
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