#kid give up their life even if that kid has been a REAL asshole all night. you can't just do that so easy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyewka · 5 months

Text

warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob

flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.

you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.

you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.

“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.

“who told you that?”

he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”

it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “okay now that’s an exaggeration.”

“not really.”

then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.

then suddenly, his eyes shift from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.

but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.

“i like you, noona.”

your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.

you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.

but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.

when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.

sorry, ignore what i said today

i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do

your heart swells a little, simultaneously feeling the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.

so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.

he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.

“hey, what the fuck was that—”

then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.

he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.

you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.

“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.

“kindly, shut the fuck up.”

his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.

your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”

“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.

you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”

he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”

“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”

“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.

“no, i want your hand.”

you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.

he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?

but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.

you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.

“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.

“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”

he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.

“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”

you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed

“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.

when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.

“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.

you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”

he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”

even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.

“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”

“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”

“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”

he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed, it gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”

“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”

his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”

“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”

you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.

“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.

you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.

well, shit.

but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.

############

note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.

#txt smut #sub!txt #sub!idol #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #yeonjun smut

4K notes · View notes

sailorholly · 9 months

Text

Stressed

Summary: Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist here

“Who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t make another pot?” Spencer propped up on his cane, asked the crowded police station. One of the officers set his mug down beside the case files spread on the table before him.

“I did. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t think that anyone else would want coffee, when we have barely had three hours of sleep?” The officer looked stunned, obviously caught off guard by the grumpy FBI agent.

“Kid, like I said, I’m sorry.” Spencer limped over to an empty chair, taking a seat. “Don’t call me kid. It’s Dr. Reid to you.” Hotch shot him a warning glance. “Reid.” Spencer dropped his gaze. The officer put his hands up in defeat, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

You wait until the room clears before going over to Spencer. You walk slowly as if you were approaching a wounded animal. “I started a fresh pot just for you. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s finished.” You smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

You can tell he’s still upset. He has been moody for a few weeks. Even though you all had agreed not to profile each other, the team had been taking guesses about what was wrong. You still didn’t have an answer. Hotch tried to speak with him privately, but he wouldn’t open up.

At the end of the day, everyone was glad to be back at the hotel. It wasn’t like the comfort of your homes, but at least it was a place to lay your head down. You all had been running on fumes.

You took a shower, thinking of every detail of the abduction. Something didn’t make sense to you, and you couldn’t get your mind off it. You dried your hair, deciding to knock on Spencer’s door to talk through it.

If anyone could help you figure it out, it was him. He answers the door, looking grouchier than before. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He snaps. You take in his attire. He’s wearing a cardigan over his button up and dress pants, the same outfit he had on earlier.

You frown, pushing your way into his room. “Since when did you start sleeping in your work clothes?” He closes the door, gripping his cane as he walks toward you sitting on his bed. He sits beside you, keeping his distance.

“You’ve been a real asshole lately, Spencer. It’s so unlike you. Is there anything you want to talk about?” He looks away, avoiding your face. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you. I’d love to help you, especially if it gets you out of this bad mood.”

You watch as he considers your words. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He asks quietly. You place a hand on your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” The faintest of smiles appears, the first one you’ve seen in a while.

“Now spill.” He sighs. “I am unbelievably stressed. My mom is on a new medication, and she’s giving her doctors a hard time. I got a new neighbor and he plays loud music late at night. I’ve asked him to stop, and he does for a while. Until I go on a case, when I get back, he’s started again. And I’ve been getting these headaches that won’t go away.”

He rubs his left eye, shoulders sinking in relief after he confessed. “Well, all those are valid reasons to be stressed. You really need to get laid.” You giggle, elbowing his side. “I’ve tried.” You stop laughing. You weren’t expecting a sincere answer. You were only joking.

“Wait, you’ve tried to have sex, but can’t find a partner?” You ask, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think it’s my awkwardness paired with the cane. It freaks them out. They probably think I’m an unsub.” He pushes his hair behind his ear.

“I like the cane.” You admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! I think it’s sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but couldn’t you just take care of yourself?” You wince. You were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your favorite coworker.

“I tried that. But I couldn’t finish. My mind would race with a million thoughts. It kills the mood.” You lower yourself to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. “Wha.. what are you doing?” Spencer asks nervously, his voice raising.

“Helping.” You state matter of factly. You unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down. You’re careful when you tug his pants and underwear down his legs, going slowly so you don’t hurt him. He takes a deep breath when you wrap both hands around his hard cock.

You lower your head toward his lap, taking him between your lips. You suck slowly, waiting for his reaction. He lets out a shaky breath when you take him to the back of your throat. You suck harder now, saliva dripping down your chin.

Spencer watches you intently. He can’t believe this is happening. All the nights he had laid in bed, imagining this exact scenario as he pleasured himself. His biggest fantasy was playing out before him. He grips the white comforter on the bed with one hand, the other holds your head in place as you bob up and down on him.

This was too much. He was going to come, and he hadn’t seen you naked yet. “Come up here, I want to touch you.” He sounds almost like he’s begging. You release him, standing to remove your clothing. “Take everything off.” You command as your panties hit the floor.

He wastes no time, throwing his cardigan and shirt beside your discarded clothes. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt. You didn’t know how he managed to get it off. “Lay back against the pillows.” He scoots until his back hits the cushiony wall. You climb on top of him, legs positioned around his hips.

You start grinding against him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. He tilts his head back, greasy curls splayed out on the pillows. You pepper kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, while large hands cup your breasts.

He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more turned on. “I want you to sit on my face.” You notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks as he said the words. “You sure?” He nods his head, confirming. “I want to taste you.”

You place your thighs on either side of his head. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to where you need him the most. His curious tongue meets your center, collecting your arousal and bringing it to your clit. He moans, the sound vibrating against you. You clamp your legs tighter around his ears, letting him devour you.

His tongue swirls around you expertly. He could be writing in Morse Code for all you know. You reach for the headboard when his lips wrap around your most sensitive spot. The suction and heat of his mouth tip you over the edge. You reluctantly remove yourself from him, still feeling needy.

“I need you inside of me.” You kiss above his belly button and his cock twitches. “I can’t get on top because of my leg.” He points to the offending appendage like you had forgotten about it. You beam at him, as you you straddle him once more. “I got this.” You line yourself up with his hard length, sinking down on him.

He gasps when he fills you all the way. You move yourself on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. You rock your hips back and forth, letting your head tip back when he brushes your g-spot. You call his name, tilting your hips so he hits it again.

“You like that?” Spencer asks, gripping your hips, working your body with his. You feel the pressure building inside you. It’s unbelievable. You’re lucky if you get off once during sex, and your second orgasm is quickly approaching. Spencer feels you clenching around him.

“Already?” He is in complete awe of you. You were even better than he imagined. “Oh God, Spencer! I’m so close.” His hands hold you harder. He sits up, pressing his chest flush against yours. Your peaked nipples rub against his chest, adding fuel to the flames.

He removes a hand from your waist, bringing it down between you. The pad of his thumb drags across your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. He looks down at where you’re joined, admiring the view. “You’re taking me so well, Angel.” He swirls fast circles against you, and your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

Spencer watches as you come undone. He follows closely behind you, a string of curses leaving his lips. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. “I need to be in a bad mood more often.” Spencer thinks out loud, his lips curling upward into a smile.

Tagging some people I think would like this.

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lamentis-10 @megharat-barnes @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid

2K notes · View notes

fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.

He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.

It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.

It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.

He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.

Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.

It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.

One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.

He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.

So what does happen to Eddie Munson?

He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.

He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.

There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.

Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.

He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.

He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.

He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.

The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.

Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.

Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.

It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.

And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.

He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--

"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."

Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.

It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.

It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.

Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.

Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.

The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.

He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.

This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)

Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.

He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.

He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.

He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.

He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?

It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.

#dot post #dot fic #eddie munson #steddie #one hit wonder eddie has lived rent free in my head for too long you guys have to join me in this before I lose my mind to it #rockstar!eddie #writer!eddie

2K notes · View notes

darnell-la · 2 months

Text

Forbid - Steve Harrington , Eddie Munson & Billy Hargrove (part 2)

pairing: unhinged!steve harrington x cocky!billy hargrove x cocky!eddie munson x reader

summary: after finishing y/n off, Eddie and Billy drive to Steve’s place to show them the mess y/n put herself into. Steve thought he could let her run free, he even tried to give her a chance to be right, but she can never shut her mouth. at least no fast enough.

note: this will be the last part of this series, but if you guys would like more of the stranger things trio, request in our inbox or message us! please, we enjoy these so much!

WE DO NOT ALLOW COPIES TO ANY OF OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

“She’s gone quiet. Fuckin’ pathetic,” Eddie snapped his hip hard just once to get a tired whine out of her. She’s been cumming and crying all night, allowing the two men to take her over.

“I honestly thought she’d last longer than us,” Billy said, surprised at how much they’ve drained her. “I don’t think she’s had good cock in her life. Been messin’ around with them young folks,” Eddie said.

She’s told Eddie about her horrible hookups, and now she’s regretting everything she’s told him. He knows so much about her that she can’t lie or hide anything from her. She can’t even hide that she loves this, from him.

“Ain’t that right, sweetheart? Been fucked by all of these kids, and now you can’t take real cock. I mean, look at you. I barely have to fuck you hard,” Eddie said, still thrusting his hips. He’ll never get over watching her suck him back in.

“Mhm,” y/n finally answered him back from the fuck sessions him and Billy have given her for the past hours. “You love being passed around between us two? Imagine how you’ll feel with three grown cocks stuffing every last hole you’ve got to give,” Eddie rubbed down y/n’s back as he felt himself get close once again.

“So fuckin’ full,” Eddie groaned low as he spilled inside her one last time for right now. He can’t keep going. He’s been at this with Billy for a good hour, and he needs to save up, just in case they need to join in at the house.

“I’ll take her to her car while you drive to Steve. Need time to tie her up,” Eddie spoke to Billy as he pulled out of y/n. The weak girl instantly fell off of the car. Both of their bodies have been holding her up this whole time.

“Alright, I’ll give you want you need,” Billy began looking through his bags. “Wanna be professional or careless?” Billy asked, remembering he has proper huffs and ropes. “Careless. She’s free use, remember?” Billy said as he looked down at y/n’s used and cummed-in body.

Hearing that word free-use for them makes this whole situation mind blowing to her. She’s actually living her dreams.

“I’ll meet you there,” Billy handed over some ropes and other things to Eddie before throwing his bag in the car, getting in and driving off. Y/n shouted a few things, confused on why Billy is leaving since she’s completely missed that Eddie will be taking her to Steve.

“Corporate,” Eddie looked down at y/n before getting on his knees and beginning to tie her up. “What the- Eddie! This session is over! Let me go!” Y/n said, but Eddie didn’t come here for a session. In fact, he set this up, hoping y/n would be good for him and Steve, but she failed

“You think I give a shit about your little whore-session!?” Eddie yelled in her face then continued tying her down. Eddie grew angry at the way y/n fought back. He was planning on taking it easy in her, but she asked for it.

After Eddie got done, he tapped her mouth shut. “How about that,” Eddie chuckled before grabbing the anal plug and lube Billy left for him. “Let’s see how you do with your ass full,” Eddie grabbed y/n and forced her on her stomach.

The tied up girl tried yelling and squirming around to get up from Eddie, but it wasn’t happening. Eddie spread y/n’s cheeks until her asshole was exposed. “Fuck, it’s tight,” Eddie groaned as he rubbed a finger along it.

Y/n whined at his touch. “Yeah, you like that?” Eddie asked as he squeezed the lube bottle over her hole. Y/n hitched at the cold feeling on asshole, making Eddie groan. “Yeah,” Eddie groaned under his breath before placing the bottle down and rubbing it in.

“You’re gonna be so full,” Eddie smirked down at the pretty girl who’s currently running wild in her kind. Billy left her to Eddie. Billy left her just for Eddie’s own small pleasure, and she can’t seem to hate it.

Without warning, the older man pushed at the girls entrance. “Ah, fuck, fuck!” Y/n whined as Eddie pushed further and further into her until the plug was fully in her.

“You’re just so tight. Christ,” Eddie admired the pretty pink diamond plug is y/n’s asshole. “Gonna have to get use to it,” Eddie said before getting up and placing the lube and plug in his pocket.

Eddie quickly picked y/n up and swung her over his shoulder before walking off with her. “Y/n tried kicking, but her feet and knees are tied and her wrist are tried behind her back.

“Keep fightin’ and this night will only get better,” Eddie said as he touched all over y/n’s ass. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she’s beginning to notice it. Even on Billy’s part.

Eddie had threw y/n in the back seat of her own car before taking off. Y/n kept her act up but kicking, screaming and begging, but her mouth is taped. He paid no mind to his little prize as he drove all the way to Steve’s house.

Billy had gotten there before them, so as soon as Eddie pulled up, he hopped out of the car to grab y/n and throw her over his shoulders.

“He’s gonna be very very angry, baby. I wish I could help you,” Eddie fake pouted in y/n’s face before walking towards Steve’s front door. She’s so confused, and scared right now. What if people see her? This could go so wrong all because she’s had this sick little kink.

After Eddie unlocked Steve’s house since he knows where he leaves his spare key, Billy carried y/n upstairs and into Steve’s guest room that Eddie showed him the way too.

The two older men had kept themselves up and made money, so a big house like this is nothing to them, but for y/n, it’s something brand new.

“Oh, Stevie!” Eddie shouted through the house as he made his way to Steve in the shower. Y/n heart dropped, confused and in shock. No. Steve can’t see her like this.

That’s when the still tied up girl began kicking and screaming. Everything’s still muffled, only making Billy laugh at how humiliating she looks.

“You don’t have good fighting Instinkts, princess. We’ll have to work on that, but for now, I need you to calm down,” Billy stood next to y/n who’s in the middle off a bed, trying to wiggle free.

“Hey, Steve!” Eddie knocked on Steve’s bathroom door before stepping in. “What’s up?” He asked as he rinsed himself off. “Guess who I found,” Eddie said as Steve stood there confused and waiting for Eddie to speak up.

“Our little sweetheart,” Eddie said, instantly boiling Steve’s blood. “She actually went? There’s no way,” Steve said. He had thought Eddie was lying about him talking to Billy about y/n and this app, but he clearly wasn’t.

“Billy fucked her!?” Steve basically screamed. “Yep,” Eddie laughed, knowing that would mess with Steve and get him angrier. He would hate for y/n to be fucked unconscious for disobeying him.

“I did too,” Eddie smirked at the man, making Steve rub his face in frustration. “See for yourself. She’s in your guest bed all tied up on display for you,” Eddie said before waking out, not even closing the bathroom door.

Steve hit the shower knob, trining the shower off as he tried keeping himself together. Steve has never had this idea to hurt y/n in any sexual way. He’s always wanted soft and slow sex with his perfect girl, but something about y/n makes him want to act out of his limits.

Steve quickly dried himself up and walked to his room to at least put boxers on. He couldn’t wait long enough to get fully dressed or even dry his hair. He has to see if she actually went out disloyal.

“Oh, I think it’s him, darling. Might wanna calm down,” Eddie said, setting alarms off in Steve’s head. He knows she shouldn’t go in. If he sees her, he’ll flip, but he had to see. He just had to check and see if his perfect girl cheated.

Steve slowly walked around the corner, and at the same time, y/n and Steve’s heart dropped. Y/n instantly stopped kicking and screaming as Steve’s made his way in the room.

Steve took a short look at Billy before looking back at y/n. He hasn’t talked to Billy in a good two years, and any time he has, it’s always some stupid argument or about y/n.

“Why?” Steve asked. Billy ripped the tape off of y/n’s mouth, making her yelp. “I-I’m sorry, I swear! I swear Mr, Harrington!” Y/n began to tear up. “Mr. Harrington?” Steve asked with a scoff before he turned around and rubbed his face.

“Watch what your say, princess,” Eddie warned y/n. “I-I’m sorry, Steve,” y/n corrected herself, but it’s far too late. Now he sees what she sees him as. A coworker, and he can’t have that.

“Y/n,” Steve spoke as he slowly turned back towards her. “I’m going to give you another chance. I have sympathy for you. From now on, you only go place after asking me. You only speak to me and whoever I allow you to speak to,” Steve started making rules.

“You won’t need to work, for I will provide for you. You’ll even move in, but I will not accept this whore activity. You’ve pissed me off far enough,” Steve tried saying in his best voice possible.

“I- Steve, I’m a grown woman. Look, I get this looks bad, but — You’re not my father,” y/n said, making Eddie and Billy steps back. They knew what was coming.

“I’m not trying g to be your father, y/n! I’m trying to be a good loyal man to you, but you’re just fucking up and walking around free. You can’t do that! We forbid you do this app shit, and look at you! You fucked Billy!” Steve yelled.

“She even sucked me off,” Billy spoke quietly then kept his mouth closed. Knowing what Steve will do when he’s mad is something Billy and Eddie want to see.

“You sucked him off!?” Steve asked y/n before grabbing his face again. “No! Well, yeah, but, I don’t know,” y/n said. “You’re banded from being around any type of man, I don’t fucking care if it’s someone working at a cash register. You are forbidden!” Steve demand.

“Hell, no! You’re not my dad, brother or fuckin’ boyfriend, Steve. You can’t do this!” Y/n argued back and forth with him, but deep down, she likes being told what she can and can’t do. He must really want her to himself.

“Oh, is that so? Oh, so you only listen to strangers who fuck you, hm? Is that what it is!? I gotta be a stranger and fuck your cunt full for you to listen!?” Steve yelled at her. He didn’t plan to, but he left out the room to grab his kink bag.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie jumped around before sitting done in front of the bed on a sofa. Billy joined him before Steve entered the room. “I’ll give you what you want then, since little brats like you get everything they fuckin’ dream of,” Steve said as he went through his bad.

The older man angrily set up these equipment on his bed board and foot board. “Steve, calm down. We can figure something out,” y/n said, already settled and willing to hear Steve out, but he’s done talking and trying to help her understand.

Steve roughly grabbed y/n and untried her. She thought he was letting her go, but he instantly grabbed her wrists and wrapped them to his bed board before he went to her feet and did the same.

“What the fuck! Steve! You can’t just fuckin’ kidnapp me! I didn’t agree to this in any fuckin’ messages,” y/n yelled at him. Steve had enough. He walked face height of her on the bed and slapped her hard.

“That’ll shut her up,” Billy chuckled low in front of the bed as Eddie laughed to himself. “You really think I care what you said in some social media messages, y/n!? You cheated!” Steve yelled.

“I didn’t cheat! We’re not dating!” Y/n was still confused int that before. Steve quickly climbed on top of her and wrapped his right hand around her neck to make her focus on his words and his words only.

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you. And I know you know how I feel by the way you act around me and Eddie. Sometimes you’re a girls girl but most of the time you’re bad, and you know it. You fuckin’ know it but you keep playing,” stave gripped harder.

“I-I don’t understand,” y/n chocked, not getting where he’s trying to get at. “I’ll make you,” Steve said before reaching in his pants to pull his already hard cock out.

“Oh my- Steve, no! No, no, no, no, no,” y/n repeated as she began wiggling again. She’s to sore and he’s to big. He’s definitely bigger than Billy and Eddie. It’s not like they were small, but ones thicker and the other is longer. Steve is both.

“Oh, yeah, and you’re gonna lay here and take it. You get no more choices,” Steve said as Eddie and Billy got up and untied her feet. She thought they were helping her, but they grappled this strap and wrapped her legs against but this time, place some of the wrap around the back of her neck, forcing her legs up and wide open.

“Wait, no! Guys, please, don’t! I can’t! I can’t do anymore!” Y/n’s eyes began glossing up. What if she passed out? That’ll be embarrassing. But at the same time, she knows she’d like it. Fuck!

“And your ass is full!? Holy shit, you’re a goddamn slut,” Steve gripped y/n’s neck again, this right now to tight as he grabbed his cock and pushed at her wet and still soaked cunt.

“You’re already so full of cum. God, you’re just something else,” Steve slammed all the way into y/n, not caring how load she screamed. “Safe word?” Billy asked, still checking for her half-ass confirmation. Y/n stayed silent.

“The fuck is that?” Steve asked, saying still as he looked at Billy. “To make sure she’s fine with this, but don’t worry. She’s a whore. She liked almost anything,” Billy said as Steve slowly turned towards y/n watching her eyes on his.

“Is that true? Are you a little whore? You like it rough and old?” Steve asked as he slowly pulled out and slowly pushed back in. “F-Fuck!” Y/n threw her head back.

“Huh!?” Steve pulled out fast and roughly slammed back it, knocking the wind out of y/n’s lungs. The already drained girl rolled her eyes back as he jaw stayed opened, trying to find enough air but its barley coming.

“Answer me!” Steve gripped y/n’s neck harder than the last time he did, but she refused to admit to it. “Answering me you fuckin’ slut. Answer me!” Steve yelled inches away from her face. Her mind grew foggy as his grip stayed the same.

“Motherfucker,” Steve cussed under his breath as he began to snap his hips against her bare skin allowing the hole room to fill with so many nasty noises. The two other men couldn’t stop watching the way Steve used her.

“Wanna be free use? Here you fuckin’ go. Free fuckin’ use like a dirty little bitch. God, you will not live a day without me fucking this cunt so full of cum. I swear to god, I’m going to make you understand who the fuck I am to you,” Steve grabbed y/n’s hair with his free and and tugged at it, letting out moan from her.

“Mhm? Ya like it? Ya fuckin’ like my cock in you? Like old dick so much you can’t fuckin’ breathe, hm? Tell me. Tell your man how much you like his cock drilling’ a hole in your gut,” Steve’s lips slightly touched her ear as he growled.

“I-I-I-“ y/n couldn’t form anything. She’s to fucked out to think, but she knows anything she says will be the truth. “I-I- Fuckin’ say it!” Steve yelled in her face as he snapped his hips after, staring straight into her eyes.

“Want,” y/n struggled. “C’mon, Stevie. Let the girl speak,” Eddie suggested. “Yeah, she’s bound to pass out,” Billy chuckled, seeing how rough Steve can be to what’s his, and he has no problem with it. As long as he gets to see it and take next.

“There. Fuckin’ say it or a fuck you face until you go slack,” stage threatened, and as much as she’d like that, she couldn’t today. “I-I want you. A-All of you,” tears streamed down the pretty girls face as she get her cries quiet.

“Is that so, baby? You want me?” Steve asked in a way better tone then he last spoke. “Y-Yes. I-I want you, baby. P-Please take me,” y/n’s cunt began clinching down in Steve’s cock like the tightest cock sleeve he could ever buy.

“Want me to take you whenever I want? Take you like my perfect little, princess, baby?” Steve spoke into the crook of y/n’s neck as her eyes rolled back and she finally came around Steve’s huge cock.

“Augh, fuck,” Steve moaned as his thrust stuttered and he finally spilled a massive load inside y/n’s cunt. You could hear the wet noises and bubbles building and leaking out of her cunt.

“Now I’m hard again,” Eddie said, making the circle continue. Once one fucks, the others get hard and it never ends. “I-I’ll take it,” y/n said low as Steve slowly pulled out of his girl.

“As long as you know you’re ours. Mine the most, but ours. No more app. No more skipping around Hawkins actin’ free. All ours,” Steve spoke what he wanted. “All yours,” y/n agreed before passionately making out with Steve as the other two men got themselves undressed and ready to please their girl.

part one!

304 notes · View notes

after-witch · 9 months

Text

Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Title: Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sister Reader]

Synopsis: Being L 's younger sibling sucks.

Word count: 1700ish

notes: platonic yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, L is an asshole; reader is a younger (adult) sibling

“Why do you have to go away? You just got back.”

L doesn’t answer. He scrapes his thumb across his lip and continues typing, clicking, mesmerized by whatever new assignment has been sent his way.

It was always like this. It seemed that anytime your brother got back, he was sent out again. Always needed, always being pulled by a million different people in directions you couldn’t even fathom. And you were here, at Whammy’s, stuck and lonely and increasingly pissed off.

You suck in your cheeks, gnawing lightly on the inside of your mouth, taking in a bit from behind your lips, a bit on the side of your cheek. Your teeth work the flesh over and over, not hurting, but pressing down.

A familiar habit, ingrained from a young age, something that simultaneously soothes you without actually disappointing the growing frustration, anger, resentment in your belly. Maybe it doesn’t soothe you at all, you muse. Maybe it’s just a way to shut yourself up so you don’t say something you can’t take back.

“You’ll get blisters inside your cheeks again,” he says, glancing at you and looking away just as quickly.

It’s nothing new for him to barely pay attention to you when he’s on assignment, and it’s nothing new for you to clamor for more of that attention.

Life was unfair and he was unfair, but you played into the bullshit anyway, because you didn’t know how else to live.

So you let your voice take on a muffled tone, annoyed, childish. You want him to tell you to stop acting like a kid. You want him to sigh and slam his laptop shut and ask you what’s wrong. You want him to just look at you, talk to you, damn it, for more than a few seconds.

“So what?”

You cross your arms over your chest, playing the petulant child. It’s what you feel like--what you’ve always felt like--in his presence. Like some dumb little thing, stupider than him, smaller than him, less than him.

He doesn’t even look at you this time, his fingers flying on his keyboard, the clacking sound irritatingly familiar at this point. “They’ll sting when you eat food, and you hate gargling salt water to heal them, so I’ll have to make you do it.” He twists his mouth into something like a pout, but you can’t tell if it’s aimed at you or whatever he’s reading on the screen.

“I’m not using salt water, even if I get blisters,” you say, jutting your chin outwards. You’ve been reading too many novels, clearly, and everything feels like it has a practiced air. You’re a player in a theatrical performance, and you can’t tell if L is the audience or a fellow actor or maybe he’s the director, cooling pulling the strings behind the curtain.

He glances at you again, then resumes typing. “Then you can be grounded to your room for a week. No TV. No books.”

Your lips curl even further. “You can’t ground me. I’m an adult. You’re just being an assh--”

He does look at you this time, and it’s that stare that you know too well. The I’m-older-than-you stare, the I’m-in-charge-of-you stare. The stare that he gives when you ask to attend real university and not some in-house curriculum; the look that he gives you when you ask to move out of here, to get your own place, when you bring up the fact that you’re a grown-fucking-adult but you’ve never had any life experiences outside of motherfucking Whammy’s House and you’re losing your mind.

Your eyebrows furrow. Your cheeks flush hot, shame rolling around in your gut. Then your arms uncross and you huff, throwing yourself backward on the bed, landing on your pillows. Two plush, soft things, a stark contrast to the uniform firm pillows normally issued at Whammy’s.

L hated those pillows, and so did you, and it was one of the first things he secured for you once it was clear that the two of you were going to stay. That, you tell yourself, is a sign that he cares about you.

But it doesn’t make you feel any better right now.

“Don’t breathe so loud,” L says, suddenly, voice lilting enough to eat away at your resentments. “Please. You’ll distract me.”

You resist the urge, only barely, to throw a pillow at his head.

Later that night, L puts away the computer and the phone. He murmurs something to someone in the hallway before slinking into your bedroom, watching as you finish your nighttime routine, peeling back the covers and crawling into them.

You look at him. He doesn’t make to leave, like he sometimes does, when he’s too busy.

He raises an eyebrow.

You open the covers, and say nothing more.

In a few moments, he crawls into bed.

Familiar warmth, familiar smells, familiar touch. You nestle yourself in the crook of his arm, automatically. You do this, even if you’re mad. Or especially when you’re mad, sometimes.

“The nest,” you used to call it, when he was young and you were younger. A safe place you could go when everything was overwhelming and the world was too cold and dark, and the only thing that made you feel at home was your brother’s arms.

Back when it was mostly just you and him. No legions of would-be successors, wanna-bes, hangers-on, vying for scraps of his attention. No stony-faced men in suits letting you know that he wouldn’t be returning home (if this could be called “home,” and you certainly wouldn’t call it that) for another few months and no, he couldn’t call, but they’ll pass on your message. No eccentrics with monikers of N and M and every letter under the sun making you wonder what would happen if you L did die, where would you be, who would you turn to?

Back when he felt like your big brother, and nights like this--in the same room or the same bed, falling asleep together, words murmured until you fell asleep, always before him--were the norm. And not the rarity that they are now.

And truth be told, it still makes you feel safe to be nestled there. That’s what really hurts the most. It would be better, easier, if you hated him. If you resented him so much that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Instead, you’re like a moth beating its wings senseless against a light that only sometimes turns on. Useless and pointless but at least, sometimes, once in every fucking while, you got what you wanted.

“L?” You ask, your voice partially muffled from your position curled next to him. You’re sleepy, but you know he won’t be. He sleeps even less than he used to, and that’s saying something.

“Mm?”

It takes so, so much of you to ask him this point blank. You wonder if he knows this, that being so candid is like stripping yourself bare in front of the entire world. Which he might as well be, for you.

“Will you take me with you, this time?” Your fingers curl tightly on his shirt. “I hate being here by myself.”

He breathes out a quick little snort, enough to rustle your hair. His arm tightens around you.

“How can you hate being here by yourself, when you’re not by yourself? There’s--”

You know he’s about to list every single damn person at this stupid facility. You know them all, and you hate them all. Well… most.

(You could, if pressed, admit that Matt was tolerable in medium doses. But you’d never admit that to your brother, for reasons you couldn’t quite articulate. Sometimes you imagine the look on his face if you were to tell him that you hung out with Matt, actually, and he seemed--what? Nice? Funny? Interesting?)

Your fingers tighten further. Tears choke your throat.

“You know what I mean,” you whisper, tight, pained.

You’re not so different from the others at Whammy’s, you know. They crave his attention more than anything and God help you, so do you. A look, a glance, a shared memory. Something to remind you that you’re alive and he’s your brother and you’re together, by blood and everything else.

Yet it’s always there--

The push and the pull.

Wanting to be near him and wanting to get away, break out, smash down the box you’re kept in and make a life for yourself. A life where you’re not “L’s sister.” A life where whispers don’t follow you in the halls, where expectations aren’t simmering in the air, heavy and unwanted.

Where you don’t feel like your big brother is some unknowable figure, always out of reach, yet unwilling to either pull you entirely into himself or let you free.

Sometimes you wonder… what kind of life could you have without L? He’s all you’ve ever known. There is not a single memory in existence in which he has not been a part of it. If he did let you leave, if you did get the nerve to make some great daring escape, what would become of you?

Maybe you were nothing without him, without those whispers, without the pedestal that you’re forced to stare up at whenever you think about him.

The thought makes you want to wretch.

He hums, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You were clenching his shirt so hard that your fingers ache, and you flex them.

“Well?” You ask, voice dull.

You know he’s not going to take you with him before he speaks. Quiet tears slip down your cheeks, and you feel dumb. But he doesn’t tease you for them, at least. There’s that.

“Maybe next time,” he says, and pats your back. Time to get to bed. He barely slept, but that didn’t mean he would let you stay up late. Or watch too much TV. Or leave Whammy’s for somewhere new.

Disappointment weighs you down, but then, doesn’t it always? You swallow the prickles in your throat.

“Then just… don’t be gone a long time, okay?”

You sigh, letting yourself relax back into his arms. Into the nest. Into some remnant of childhood where you felt comfortable and safe. You push away all thoughts of leaving, of resentments, of the fact that your life is only something like fulfilled when your brother designs to visit. You stay there until you fall asleep, dreams gray and bleary, disconnected thoughts that are rarely worth remembering.

Against your hair, L smiles.

#yandere l lawliet #yandere death note #platonic yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes #just a lil thing I wrote on my phone

662 notes · View notes

mysterycitrus · 4 months

Note

hihihi! tim drake in college real?

oog indeed mein freund

so ur tim drake, ur seventeen, and ur dad has just come back from the dead. u hollowed urself out until there’s nothing left and ur ribs are broken but you’ve never felt better. if u stop moving for more than a second the weight of the world hits u. there’s another kid wearing ur uniform and u have to watch as this new robin and bruce, the bruce u fought for, the bruce u left everything behind for, the bruce u nearly died for, debut as gothams dynamic duo. but it’s fine. u did what u had to do. u feel great, actually.

then ur brother who u love more than anything sits u down and tells u he’s enrolled u in college in california. ur so angry ur spitting. he trusts u and now he’s not even giving u the choice to stay. u want to kick and scream and hold on till ur hands are bloody, but he tells u that he’s worried. he’s been so scared for u since ur dad died. he thinks ur losing urself. he wants u to make choices for urself without bruce. he wants u to spend time with ur friends who are alive again and miss u. he wants u to take a chance to live ur life away from gotham, away from that burden.

he tells u: robin is never truly gone, alright? it’ll never leave. i need u to trust me that it’ll still be u no matter how many other kids wear the cape. i need u to trust that i love u more than what ur able to do in tights.

and he knows this better than anyone. he’s asking u to extricate tim drake from robin and batman and red robin. to remember what it felt like to choose. and after all these years u can’t say no, so u pack ur bags and leave for the west coast.

college is fine. u keep changing majors. u pick up photography as a joke, thinking about snapping photos of the boy wonder from a distance, to print in the basement dark room after school. it’s a laugh, and ur gonna drop it until donna troy finds out, and u spend a long time on the roof of the tower with her taking photos of the sunrise. it’s been a while since the sunrise was the start of ur day. it feels….. unfamiliar. she tells u about how ur brother became nightwing. she tells u about the heartbreak of having to move on. she tells u about choices.

kon’s right down the hall. he can hear u but u can’t hear him, so sometimes you’ll whisper a question for him to shout back. he obligingly poses for ur still life class. he and steph make fun of how u can’t decide what to study. it’s painful to become tim drake and nothing else again, but it happens in increments. u make friends with people in ur tutoriasl. ur less pale — u pinken under the sun easily, peeling flesh turning red and painful, but u look less like a corpse. ur hair is longer, and bart buys u a claw clip shaped like an avocado.

the new robin is growing up, and he explains colour theory to u for one of ur classes. he’s an asshole, but he’s trying. when asked politely, he draws character sheets for bart’s dnd group with minimal grumbling. red and yellow suit him, and looking at him in the costume feels less painful, and more nostalgic.

u brainstorm new ideas for urself, new roles, new ideas for the team, but there’s no rush. u have time. if u see bruce, u kno there’s someone else at his back, watching him through the night. dick texts u life updates, but they’re funny, not desperate. the world continues to spin. u, tim drake, are still alive.

#sorry this is truly just word vomit #tim drake #robin #red robin #dc comics #teen titans #ty for all the asks I got immediately everyone!!!!!!! v v appreciated #OOG!! ily rimi hehehehe #the ask and the answer

240 notes · View notes

talesfromthesnogbox · 1 year

Text

Wayne Knows Best

Summary: Wayne wants to make sure Eddie and his new boyfriend are being careful, but Eddie's confused... he doesn't have a boyfriend, does he?

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3,881

AO3 Link

-------

Wayne Munson had always been more observant than he looked. When he first took in his nephew Eddie, the kid constantly thought he could outsmart him, and pull the wool over his eyes as he had his father. But Wayne knew better than that.

Eddie grew up to be less sneaky and more upfront about things with Wayne, but he knew his nephew still held things back from him. He wasn’t the kid’s dad, but he’d earned Eddie’s trust enough that he would come to him when he was ready to share.

So when after March break of 1986, one Steve Harrington started coming around the trailer, Wayne kept his mouth shut and let the boys be.

The thing is, Wayne always knew Eddie marched to the beat of his own drum, with everything, including who he liked. He’d never formally come out to him, or talked to him about anything regarding romance or sex, but Wayne figured that maybe he was a late bloomer or something. Easier for him, he’d never even thought about the fated “birds and the bees” conversation with Eddie until he found a glossy worn skin mag wedged between his mattress and box spring when he was seventeen. It didn’t bother Wayne, what other people did with their partners was none of his business; but he knew if Eddie did like fellas instead of ladies, he’d have an even harder time being out in the world then he already did.

Regardless, Wayne never told Eddie what he’d found, he just kept a close eye on his boy, and knew that when he was ready, he’d talk to his dear old uncle.

Of course, that was before the Harrington boy started coming over at all hours of the night.

Steve was a nice kid, nothing like his asshole of a father. The first time he’d met Wayne all those months ago in the hospital, he looked exhausted, a little beat up, and sitting by his boy’s bedside.

“You must be Wayne.” He said, getting up and offering the seat beside Eddie’s bed to him. “I would say Eddie has told me so much about you but…”

“It’s okay, kid.” Wayne told him, hearing the subtle bits of anxiety colour his tone. “You’re the Harrington boy, aren’t you?”

He stuck out his hand for Wayne to shake. “Steve, sir. I haven’t known Eddie long, but I know the kids worship him, and he’s like an older brother to them. I—I’m grateful they have him at school looking after them even though…” Steve went quiet, an apologetic look on his face.

“Super senior, yeah I know. He’s 20 and still in high school.” Wayne let out a gruff chuckle.

“We’re gonna help him graduate, I promise. He saved us, nearly died for Dustin.”

The older man nodded. “He’s a good kid, nothing like… nothing like what they’ve been sayin’ about him on the news—” The words got caught in his throat, and he felt Steve lay a hand on his shoulder.

“I know.”

From that point on, Wayne knew he was gonna like Steve, and he knew he’d become a permanent fixture in Eddie’s life. He was happy to have the boy around, someone to talk sports with, someone who had fresh baked muffins ready for when Wayne got home after his overnight shifts, someone who made Eddie smile.

He’d never seen his boy this happy around anyone. When Eddie was with Steve, he seemed freer than he’d ever been, and Wayne felt in his heart that this was Eddie’s first real crush. It broke his heart to think that his kid was falling for someone like Steve Harrington, someone who would grow up to marry a nice girl and have the standard 2 kids and a dog, but he knew that Eddie was resilient, and he’d eventually get over Steve and move on. Wayne had trusted Steve would be nice about the whole thing, let Eddie down gently, give him his space to grieve what could have been, but all those thoughts came crashing down one morning when he saw none other than Steve Harrington stumbling out of Eddie’s room to the bathroom clad only in his boxers, rubbing sleep from his eye.

Wayne glanced up at the boy curiously. He didn’t seem to see the older man in the kitchen as he closed the door, and Wayne didn’t know if he was intentionally avoiding him, or if he genuinely didn’t see him.

Huh. That was new.

Steve had slept over before, usually when his house felt too big for one person and he needed something other than the radio silence of Loch Nora to clear his mind, but he usually took the couch.

Maybe they’d gotten a little too high and he stayed with Eddie he thought, trying to find any excuse he could as to why Steve Harrington was undressed and sleepy in his nephew’s bedroom. He brushed off the occurrence, thinking nothing of it, until it happened again.

“Morning Wayne.” Steve had called this time, passing him one morning as he was just getting in from work. This time he’d been wearing his boxers and an old Iron Maiden t-shirt of Eddie’s.

“Mornin’ Steve.” He grumbled, making his way into his bedroom.

The man racked his brain, trying to think of every possible scenario of why the kid was in bed with Eddie. Had something happened between them? Wayne thought it was unlikely. They acted the same way they normally did everywhere else; sure, Eddie could be a bit too much like an octopus at times all gangly giving hugs freely, but that’s just how he was, that didn’t mean he and Steve were dating or anything. Could it?

It wasn’t until the third time it happened that Wayne accepted his nephew, Eddie Munson, was dating Steve Harrington.

In a way, Wayne felt a little giddy at the thought. Steve was a great kid, everything he could ever dream of in a son-in-law. He was polite, held shared interests with Wayne, and he made Eddie happy. The boy was a real catch! But that giddiness dissipated as he thought of the disease going around among those young boys… A cold chill ran through him as he remembered Eddie barely conscious for days on end in a hospital bed. He never wanted to see his boy like that; he didn’t want to pry, but maybe at 21 it was time to give him the talk.

Wayne had had enough uncomfortable conversations in his lifetime, but he knew this one was bound to be one for the books. Eddie could be squeamish, he ran away from the things he didn’t feel prepared to face, and Wayne felt that this was something he was not at all prepared for. Needless to say, this ambush needed something to soften the blow.

On his way home from work, he’d stopped off at Melvald’s, and then by the local coffee shop to pick up two steaming cups of coffee and half a dozen freshly glazed donuts. Eddie’s favourite. When he got home, Eddie was already awake, and Steve was once again in Wayne’s kitchen.

Today, the scene was a lot different than it normally was. Eddie sat on the kitchen counter, something Wayne had asked him countless times not to do, and Steve, clad in his Family Video vest, was at the stove frying up bacon and eggs. The two were so wrapped up in their conversation they didn’t even notice Wayne was home until he greeted them with a gruff “Mornin’ boys.”

Eddie’s head snapped forward, meeting his uncle’s eyes as he hopped off the counter. “Morning old man,” he whistled lowly seeing the box of donuts, condensation forming on the clear plastic box from the fresh heat that had risen off them, “you stopped by Lucy’s on the way? Must be a special day!”

Eddie reached for the box, but his uncle slapped his hand away. “Ah ah, Steve’s puttin’ in the work over there, not until you’ve had a proper breakfast and said a proper thank you to yer boy.” A flash of terror crossed Eddie’s expression and he nervously wrung his rings around his fingers as he went to gather three plates. Steve plated up a fried egg, some bacon, and slices of toast on each plate and helped Eddie carry them to the table. “Sorry Steve, didn’t think you’d be here or I woulda grabbed you a coffee as well.”

Steve shook his head. “No sweat, I’m not much of a coffee drinker anyways, but thank you. I’ll be out of your hair after breakfast.”

“Don’t rush kid, I’m not kicking you out.”

Steve chuckled, dunking his toast in the runny egg yolk. “Thanks Wayne, I’ve gotta run to work in a bit anyways, this one wanted to sleep in this morning.” He gestured towards Eddie.

Eddie snorted. “Oh so now it’s my fault!”

Wayne shook his head as the two boys bickered, then picked up the plates and set them in the sink when the three were done. He excused himself for a quick shower and let Eddie have his privacy to send Steve off while he collected his thoughts.

After he was clean and dry and in a pair of cozy flannel pyjama pants and sweatshirt, he pulled Eddie into the living room and finally offered him a donut. Eddie groaned, his mouth full of the sweet pastry, nodding along to an inaudible beat.

“Eddie… you know I love you, right?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and his head tilted towards his uncle. “Of course. Wayne, you’re like a father to me.” His eyes suddenly widened, and he nearly dropped the donut. “You’re not… you’re not dying are you? Or sick?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No son, no I’m fine. Just wanted to make sure you knew. You can tell me anythin’ Eddie, you know that, right?”

The boy scoffed. “Yeah, I know, you told me that years ago.”

Wayne nodded along. “Okay, then I hope I’m not overstepping. You’re being careful, right? You and Steve I mean?”

Eddie blinked once. Twice. Three times. “Uhhhh, yeah?” He took a sip of his now cold coffee. “I um, I know you don’t like it when I smoke in the trailer but sometimes with the bugs, and we open the window, but we’re using your ashtray. We won’t accidentally set the trailer on fire if that’s what you mean. And we don’t drive when we’ve been drinking or smoking, we mostly just hang out and listen to music or watch a movie.”

The older man let out a breathy laugh. “Not what I meant kid. Eddie I—uh you’re twenty-one, and I’m sure you know how this works by now. I’m not naive and I know you aren’t either. And Steve’s a boy, but there’s still risks. I’m sure you’ve seen those boys on the news with what’s been going around, and after last March I don’t want… look, just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

Wayne finally looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes, filled with total utter confusion.

He cleared his throat. “You uh, you probably already have… supplies, but just in case I um… here… I stopped in this morning to grab you some uh—protection.” Wayne tossed the paper bag at Eddie, hearing the dull thud of the foil packets inside as he caught them. “I know you can be pretty reckless, but I hope you boys have been using them already. Hawkins High isn’t a world class education but I trust they taught you how to use those things, eh? Or do I need to grab a couple’a bananas?”

Eddie’s face went white as a sheet as he looked into the bag and saw a newly purchased box of condoms.

“Um, Wayne?” His voice crack was masked by the sound of the paper bag crinkling as he folded the top and set it aside. “What exactly do you think I need these for?”

Wayne scoffed. “Come on Eds, I may be old but I’m not stupid. My eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I’m not blind.” He moved to sit beside Eddie. “I see the way you two look at each other, and I know you kids, uh, share a bed. It’s okay son. Uh, this probably isn’t how uh, how you planned on telling me, but just know that I love you, and uh, and Steve too.”

Eddie swallowed audibly. He’d gone from white to green, suddenly regretting that donut. His hands shook as he pushed his hair back from his face, exhaling heavily.

“You knew?” His voice shook, sounding watery.

Wayne nodded and took his hand. “Yeah kid, I had a feeling, but I didn’t know for sure until the boyfriend started staying over.”

Eddie nodded along, sniffing once, and wiping the stray tears from his eyes. “Okay. Okay. Cool. Okay. Wait, boyfriend?”

Wayne narrowed his eyes. “Boyfriend, partner, lover, whatever it is you kids are calling it these days.”

The younger boy laughed high and sharp. “Wayne… Wayne, please never say ‘lover’ like that again, for both our sake. So you think—you thought Steve was my boyfriend?”

This time it was Wayne’s turn to be confused. “Is… um… is he not?”

“No! Harrington is totally straight. We’re not—”

“Does he know that?”

“What the— you really are losing your mind in your old age.” He shook his head, hiding his face, his eyes totally unreadable. “Good talk, old man. Thanks for the, um…” He gestured to the bag on the couch. “I don’t have a need for them right now, nor have I ever needed them for the record, I haven’t… um… yeah, that’s enough information for you I think.”

Wayne chuckled. “Hey kid, no shame in holding out for the right one. And just my two cents, but I think maybe Steve could be the right one.”

“GAH! Okay! Ending this conversation now, go to bed, I’ll see you later, goodbye!” Eddie turned towards his room, but Wayne could see the heavy blush that covered his cheeks and ran down his neck. He was right about one thing at least, his boy was smitten for one Steve Harrington. And Wayne was sure he was right in thinking that Steve may be smitten for Eddie as well.

-------

When Wayne left for work at the end of the day, Eddie knew in his heart he’d be expecting to see Steve there in the morning as he had that day. It had become routine at this point, Wayne would leave, Eddie would call his favourite person, and ten minutes later, Steve would be at his door.

Steve had started coming over to help Eddie with his bandages, and usually ended up crashing on the Munson’s couch. But lately the nightmares had gotten bad for both of them, and they started taking comfort in each other’s touch. In the month they’d been sharing a bed, neither of them had a single nightmare, but they had to be careful.

Eddie hated sneaking around Wayne. Sure, they weren’t doing anything wrong, they were just sleeping, but it was exhilarating having something that was just for the two of them. Steve had been pretty good about leaving before Wayne was home, but there had been a few times where they’d been caught, this morning in particular being one of them.

The conversation had been uncomfortable for Wayne, sure, but more so for Eddie knowing that someone else saw what he thought he’d been imagining. He’d tried to push down his crush on Steve Harrington for years, but it only got worse once he got to know him personally. He’d acknowledged his own feelings shortly after Vecna, but lately, he was getting the feeling that maybe Steve could possibly, actually feel the same way too. It was validating, almost vindicating knowing that Wayne thought they were a couple; he’d been going crazy trying to figure out what was going on between himself and Steve, and knowing that someone else saw it felt good. But he could have done without the box of condoms.

The box of condoms Wayne threw haphazardly into his room. The box of condoms currently sitting in the middle of his bed.

Steve flopped himself down onto his side of the bed after changing into pyjamas and poked the bag. “What’s that?”

Eddie sprung to action as he picked up the bag. “Nothing!” He swiped it from Steve’s hands and deposited it on his nightstand. “Nothing, just Wayne being nosy for no reason.”

Steve grinned and tackled Eddie suddenly, throwing his leg over him straddling his hips, and pinning his wrists in one hand as the older boy squirmed below him.

“Steve! Steve god DAMNIT let me go!”

“No secrets remember? What weird thing did Wayne go and do now?”

Eddie’s heart dropped as he plead with his friend. “Dude, dude let me go, seriously, it’s embarrassing.”

Steve looked down at Eddie, his smile fading. He climbed off his lap and back into his usual spot. “Sorry man, I didn’t—”

“No, no it’s fine, it’s stupid.” He sighed. “It’s really stupid. God I don’t even know why I’m—it’s just a box of condoms.”

Steve tensed. “O-oh. Got a hot date or something coming up Munson?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “The pull out method doesn’t always work, trust me, the pregnancy scare is not worth—”

“Steve I’m gay.”

“O-okay.”

Eddie sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He bought me the condoms because he thought you and I… well he… look I’m sorry, okay? I told him we weren’t, I set the record straight, heh, about you anyways, he knows about me now.”

The other boy cocked his head to the side. “He thought… what he thought we were together?”

Eddie moved a strand of hair in front of his mouth, unable to meet Steve’s eyes, and nodded. “Sorry man, I don’t know where he got that idea. You don’t have to stay if you’re—I’ll be alright on my own for a bit if it’s too weird or whatever.”

“Eddie… Eds…” Steve shifted closer. “Do you want that?”

He scoffed. “I’ve slept better in the last month than I have in the last year, of course I don’t want you to leave.”

Steve shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. No, do you want what Wayne thought to be true?”

Eddie couldn’t answer Steve, and somehow that felt more damning to him than if he’d just said yes.

“Eddie?”

“I’m sorry Steve, if you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me okay? I’m not… just don’t tell anyone, please.”

Steve took his hand. “Wayne really thought we were together?”

“Dude—”

“Shit, guess Robin was right, I am really obvious.”

“What—?”

Steve chuckled. “Eds, dude,” he chuckled, “sweetheart, I want that too.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped as he slowly turned to meet Steve’s eyes. Steve met his glance with a sheepish shrug, his thumb now rubbing circles on the back of Eddie’s hand.

“Did… did you just call me dude? In the middle of your big romantic confession?” Eddie’s face cracked into a smile.

“I—” He scoffed, his chin meeting his chest as he hung his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing here man, you’re the first guy I’ve been into, and the Harrington charm hasn’t exactly been working on you.”

“Oh, OH it’s working for me, let me tell you that. You’ve got no problems there.”

Steve chuckled and fell forward, his forehead resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie untangled their hands and draped his arm around Steve, tugging him closer until he felt his short breaths on his neck.

“So… so you really like me?”

“I thought I made that abundantly clear when I practically begged to share your bed.”

Eddie frowned. “I thought that was just for the nightmares?”

“It was, a bit, but I also wanted you close. I figured maybe I’d sort my shit out and stop thinking of you like… like I normally think of girls if we had an old fashioned sleep over.”

“And did it help?”

Steve looked up at Eddie deadpan. “Clearly it didn’t.”

Eddie threw his head back in a chuckle, hitting the wall with a loud thump. “Fuck.”

The other boy jumped to action, bringing Eddie’s head off the wall, carding his fingers through his hair to check for a bump as he winced.

“Heh, that feels kinda nice Stevie.”

Steve smiled, settling his hand on Eddie’s neck satisfied with his findings. “Oh yeah? You like having your hair played with?”

“S’all new to me, I don’t know what I like. Never even kissed a boy.” He looked down at Steve's lips.

“You know, funny you say that, because neither have I.” Steve smirked, looking up at Eddie through his lashes the way he knew drove Nancy crazy. He leaned in, eyes flicking between Eddie’s lips and eyes, until their noses almost brushed.

Eddie blinked, worrying his lip between his teeth, feeling Steve’s hot breath hit his face. “Stevie, are you sure?”

His thumb brushed a soft path along Eddie’s cheekbone, and he swallowed. “I’ve never been more sure about anything, Eds.”

Eddie’s nose clumsily brushed Steve’s, his eyes slid closed, and moments later, their lips brushed in a chaste kiss. He shuddered out a breath and smiled, going in for another as he felt his heart pound in his chest.

He knew Steve had a lot more experience than he did, but Steve was happy to let Eddie take the lead until he got his bearings. His chaste brushes of lips turned into slotting their lips together, panting hard, and eventually, when Steve couldn’t take it and just needed more, he slid his tongue against Eddie’s top lip.

Eddie felt like he was soaring. No amount of drugs could top the high he felt kissing Steve, and it only got better once Steve met his enthusiasm. Their tongues met, and Eddie’s breath got caught in his throat, a shiver rolled down his spine, and he sighed happily.

Steve pulled away first, pecking Eddie on the lips once, twice, then slotted their lips together again, guiding him backwards until his head hit the pillows.

-------

The trailer was quiet when Wayne got home that morning. He spotted Steve’s shoes by the front door and smiled knowingly.

He padded through the trailer noting gratefully that Steve had made fresh banana bread the night before, and took a slice on a paper towel, breaking off pieces and groaning quietly in pleasure as he ate it.

Something was different about that morning, it was in the air of the trailer, too still, to calm, but still electric, and Wayne noted that Eddie’s bedroom door was cracked open. He poked his head in, not wanting to disturb the boys’ sleep, but the sight before him had the man giggling like a school girl.

Eddie and Steve laid tangled together in the sheets, chests bare as they snored lightly. Lying on the bottom corner of the bed was a crumpled up foil packet, the corner torn open and empty. The box of condoms Wayne had given Eddie the night before lay open on his beside table.

“Fuckin’ knew it.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson centric #stranger things fic #my writing #steddie fic

451 notes · View notes

alwaysonf1 · 6 months

Text

oopsy?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: Canadian NHL team shit talking. Middle fingers.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

As much as Iman doesn’t mind and is one hundred percent on board for all the filming and hanging out with the drivers, she's happy that it’s not an every day of the week and every class kind of thing. There’s a level of mental capacity it takes to deal with the people around her while doing this that she can’t maintain every day.

But today isn’t one of those days. Today they’re at a track and that’s one of her favorite places to be no matter where it is.

NOLA Motorsports Park hasn’t seen any real IndyCar action since twenty fifteen, but it’s still a place that some teams use when they want to test and practice in a place where it wouldn’t really be expected. Though there were times they did open the public stuff and in about a month there would be a McLaren sponsored karting tournament for kids already in and new to the world of motorsport.

Iman looks forward to that day because she enjoys helping the kids with their races and even more so helping them understand how their karts work. She was even going to be in charge of a more informational segment that she knows is going to be boring as hell, but hopefully insightful for kids and their parents.

The sport can be hard enough getting into it and she wanted to make it easier for them. Even if she felt a little like a fraud speaking as her path hasn’t really been from the ground up like half the kids there.

But at the moment what she’s most happy about is that she isn’t the one making the drive to the track. The place is over an hour from her apartment and though it rarely feels that long it’s nice to have someone else to do it.

Though she could do without being sandwiched between her brother and her new frenemy, Lance.

“It’s a Canadian sport. And they are original, how could you dislike them? They have more championships than Seattle has in years playing. I mean I like them too, but come on, Iman.”

The entire rant is funny and it’s the same argument they’ve had twice now after he found out that she enjoys hockey. They’ve talked a little about football too, but the moment she enacted her duty of humbling a Canadian it’s been a back and forth of him being flustered over her dislike of almost all the Canadian teams in the NHL. Most of it being due to her disdain for certain players - most of which for petty reasons and some because they’re assholes.

She reaches out and pats his leg, giving him a soft and kind look that’s only playfully condescending.

“How about we pick this back up when a Canadian team breaks their thirty year streak of not winning the Stanley Cup. Something multiple players in Seattle have done in that time period.”

“You went there?”

“I went there.”

Lance huffs and puffs. He tries to say something, but every time his mouth opens he closes it again. If I didn’t notice the way he wanted to laugh and the resignation in his expression I would fear I’d genuinely offended him, but I know I hadn’t. Poor man knew it was the truth, even if it was a painful one.

“It’s their year.”

“Who’s year?”

He sighs. “I don’t know. One of them.”

“Leafs?”

At that he makes a face that can only be read as disgust.

“You’re mad at me and you don’t even like them.”

“I’m obligated.”

“I get it.”

Because she does. That conditionally and sometimes fake patriotism got the best of her too.

She opens her mouth to bring them back to common ground by shitting on Vegas, but for the tenth time there’s a pull at some strands of hair at the back of her head. Eyes narrowed she turns her head to look at her brother. Who doesn’t even bother to look away or remove his hand.

“Why?”

Lewis shrugs.

Rolling her eyes she reaches up and pulls on one of his braids, earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t pull my hair,” he says.

“Then don’t pull mine.”

And he does it again.

Like the child she sometimes is, she goes to retaliate, but the van rolls to a stop and she settles for glaring at him.

“Ha.”

“Oh, shut up.”

With the last word she follows the others out of the van, “accidentally” kicking Lewis on her way out. By the time he’s out and able to get her back she’s already standing at the front of everyone barely suppressing a gleeful smile. He joins the group and flips her off in a covert way and she does the same.

Not them doing that on the low mattered since the cameras weren’t focused on the group yet. Every camera person is huddled together talking amongst themselves.

“Is that a McLaren indycar?” Alex asks.

“Sure is.”

Daniel raises his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Are we going to get in it?”

“Maybe.”

That seems to shock everyone, but there is some giddiness to it. One would think that a group of men who raced for a living and who would be back to doing it in about a week wouldn’t be so eager to get into a car. But then again that’s the driving force of why some of them do it for a living.

Before anyone can say anything else Anne walks up and the camera surrounds them. Anne gestures to Iman and she takes her cue.

Iman hitches her thumb backward. “This is where I do a lot of my internship work during the school year. Though it’s not often used for pro-racing, it is used for testing. And that’s what McLaren’s Indycar team is doing here for the next month or so. And today you’ll be helping me with work.

“All of you know there is some level of secrecy going on with this stuff, but everything you see and hear today will be things that are known to the public or that no one cares about anyone else knowing. Plus, this testing is for this past season's car, not the coming one.

“We’re going to get a tour of the place and then get to work. Any questions before we get things going?”

The group is quiet and after a few seconds Iman nods and then turns. She leads the group up to the pit lane where McLaren mechanics await them. There are greetings and then another explanation of what they’re doing there. Then they’re led off on a tour of the spaces. They field questions from the drivers and to round out the tour they end up back in front of where they started.

“Okay, so we’re trying to figure out what went wrong with this engine during one of the races this season. We had to replace the whole thing and it didn’t become a priority to take it apart and find out, so that’s what we’re doing now to see if there’s anything we need to change in the future,” the head mechanic says.

He looks around at everyone in the way one does when ensuring that they have a listening audience.

“Okay, so you’ll see what Iman and our team do to figure that out. I know this could be more exciting, but we decided this is a good glimpse to really show what she does and in a way we’re comfortable showing. You’ll pair off and our people will explain what’s going on. Feel free to ask questions and point out any oddities you see, we need all the eyes on this that we can get. It’s all preliminary, so they won’t be at it for long and then that’s where the fun begins.”

He shares a mischievous smile with Iman and by the looks of everyone it makes them a bit unsettled.

“What does that mean?” Lance asks.

Iman shrugs. “You’ll see. Now go get changed.”

They do what she says even though she could see the questions they want to ask.

About ten minutes later everyone returns in coveralls. Iman is already dressed in the clothes she works in so she’s sitting on a rolling chair when they return.

“Ready?” she asks.

They nod.

“Okay, I’m not going to treat this like a class room so everyone in groups of two and then you’ll be with one of us.”

Much like all Iman’s years of school, all the drivers freeze. Then they all scramble toward their chosen person. Despite the small group - or because of how small it was - some end up losing out. It takes all of her not to burst into laughter when Carlos goes for Charles and Lewis snatches up the Monégasque. Which means Carlos is with Daniel. The man pouts while Daniel grins ear to ear, but you could tell it was more playful.

Lewis and Charles laugh at their antics and Iman knows that those two groups are going to be a chaotic mess.

And because she’s so busy holding back giggles at their nonsense, she misses the chance to grab a group that doesn’t contain her brother. She knows that part of this whole thing is wanting them to be together, but she would be a bad little sister if she didn’t act indignant about it.

“I guess I’m stuck with you too,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Lewis grins. “Yes, you are. You’ll love it. Won’t she Charles?”

Both men turn their heads to face each other and they share similar grins. Then they turn to her and she sees devious intentions in their eyes. Iman feels like they’re plotting against her and she doesn’t like that.

“Of course. We are a delight,” Charles says.

Now she really knows they’re going to be a handful. Though she hopes putting them to work will help.

“Sure, you will be. How about using that delightfulness to help me disassemble this.”

She gestures to the problem engine. She’s to take care of that one while the others look at two others. Both of them cling to their little creep show and then finally nod and help her disassemble the thing. Lewis is a little competent in it because she always talked about it and forced him to learn, but Charles is a little surprising to her. But it’s nice to only have to give a little guidance and get to focus on her work.

Of course she gets so into it that she forgets that she should probably talk to them a little after Charles clears his throat. By the sounds of it he’d been trying to get her attention for a little while.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“You work for McLaren?” he asks.

“This year.”

“Only this year? They seem very okay with this for such a short time.”

“Once before, but for a shorter amount of time then. I’ve done about four internships, two of them with them. One in Nascar and another for a different IndyCar team.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. How do you find the time?”

“I don’t. Just chaos twenty-four seven.” She laughs. “But to be fair, the first IndyCar was when I was a senior in high school. They were doing a program for kids of that age to get them interested and I was a test subject. Since my mother worked for them it was more likely they’d get better feedback versus the kids who might be scared saying anything could get them blacklisted.”

“Really?”

Iman smiles. “Really. There weren’t many issues and nothing major though, so it was fine.”

“No, I mean in high school?”

“Yup. It’s what happens when you tell the people in your life what you want to do for a living and they have the connections. The moment my mom knew I was serious she had me applying everywhere and brought me in to shadow her and anyone else she could have agree. I was annoying, but good enough that they didn’t tell her to stop.”

Talking with Charles is easy and the conversation is one that helps her focus on the task of disassembling the unnecessarily greasy mess that is her side of the engine. Something is peaceful about it too. Nice even.

When she looks up and past Charles to her brother Iman sees a weird expression on Lewis' face. It’s one he wears when he knows something or thinks he knows something and a weird smile. She wants to question it, but thinks better of it. Knowing Lewis it will irritate her and there is a part of her brain that is sure she knows what that look is for and she refuses to address it.

Not stepping into that shit show. Nope.

“Okay, what happened?” Lewis asks.

“It stopped the car completely and then when we went to check it there was a small-ish fire.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was the furthest from the fire, Lew.”

There’s some grumbling, but his expression and body language mellows out. Not much though. For some reason Iman looks to Charles for support, but instead she’s on the receiving end of a look that gives off mild anger and a silver of disappointment. Of course she doesn’t know Charles well enough for her to fully understand his expressions, but she’s familiar with the reactions of siblings.

Iman groans. “Oh come on. Not you too.”

“I’d be mad at my brothers for it as well,” Charles says.

Lewis fist bumps the man and they both stare Iman down as if expecting something like an apology from her. One that she isn’t willing to give, because while she gets the worry and is appreciative of it - especially when Charles barely knows her - this is her job. She’s made a career choice and these kinds of situations are the kind of shitty parts that she expects and that need to be expected. Especially from people who’ve seen their fair share of chaos and tragedy in the world of motorsport. She knows that that’s probably why they’re worse about it. But Iman also knows that there’s something more to it.

Instead of indulging them she rolls her eyes and focuses on the engine. They join in after a couple seconds and she guides them through it, telling them the running theory on what they think caused the fire and answering the questions they have about all the ways their hypothesis could be true.

The help feels nice. They don’t slow her down at all and even if they did she realizes that she wouldn’t mind it. Their interest makes it enjoyable.

By the time they finish they’ve mostly ruled out what it wasn’t but have no confirmation on if what McLarens mechanics think went wrong did. It’s frustrating, but Iman knew enough about the job to know that eliminating possibilities was sometimes better than finding the answer right away. In this case it meant she could catch anything that was also an issue, but didn’t get its chance to show out. And there were at least two of those issues she had to document.

Iman follows the other mechanics to give a report and compare notes and she returns changed into clothes she brought with her. When she emerges on the track the drivers are also back in their clothes and standing in front of some of the newest cars from their respective brands or the creators of the engines their F1 car uses.

Lance is looking at her with a raised brow as she enters their field of view and the others appear curious.

“What’s happening here?” Daniel asks, though with how giddy he is Iman knows he knows.

“Friendly race.”

As if they weren’t professional drivers that did this multiple times a year an electric kind of excitement filled the circle. It’s classic teenage boy behavior as they nudge each other and talk shit.

Anne steps in and grabs everyone’s attention.

“We’re going to have a friendly race. Everyone will be paired up and though there is only one tandem here, you can’t be paired with your teammate.” There is some groaning from the Ferrari boys. “And, because we have a McLaren IndyCar driver here waiting around, Pato O’Ward, will be joining in on the fun.”

Pato appears the moment his name is mentioned. He wears a wide smile and shyly waves to the group.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind me crashing this.”

“Dibs!” Daniel yells.

Everyone startles, but then it’s a bunch of eye rolling and some bashfulness from Pato.

“That’s fine, Daniel. I was going to choose who gets who, but it's free for all. So pick yo…”

Before Anne can finish what she’s saying everyone scrambles and Iman crosses paths with Lewis. She knocks into him, sending him a little off kilter and with enough force that he ends up next to Carlos and her next to Charles.

“Hey!” he shouts.

Iman waves. “Hi.”

“You know what.. How dare… Why?”

“I haven’t caused you suffering in a while, which I’m obligated as a little sister to do. Also I’ve driven many Mercedes. I want to try out a Ferrari. Plus, even if I didn’t go for Charles the odds of me reaching Carlos before Lance chooses between him and Albon were low. Shit end of the stick, Lew.”

Everyone laughs as they watch a series of emotions play on the man’s face. He huffs and puffs as he tries to find the words.

Realization dawns on Lewis’ face.

“Wait. No. You’re not racing. You can’t… This isn’t… No.”

Every sentence he starts is clearly going to lead to the interaction turning from funny to a little more serious, so Iman lets him work through finding his words.

“Then you shouldn’t have taught me how. I’m not the one who got grounded at his big age for letting me race a car by a woman who is not their mother.”

Alex snickers. “Wait. He did?”

“Yup. Of course she couldn’t make it stick, but she was trying hard to figure out all the ways she could.”

Lewis winces, probably remembering it. Then he rolls his eyes and sulks. “Fine.”

With a much gentler smile Iman walks over and places a kiss on Lewis’ cheek and ruffles his braids, then retakes her spot next to Charles. Though he fights against it she watches the sulking stop

“Okay, just don’t cry to her or dad when I kick your ass.”

“Bring it.”

Anne retakes control of the conversation and directs everyone to their cars. They’re all given helmets, because this is hot lap adjacent.

“Everyone will get one lap, then you’ll swap. This is about speed and I know that every one of you is capable of doing this in this type of vehicle, but I’m reminding you all to be safe. Nothing crazy unless you’re sure you can execute it without risk to yourself and everyone else. Got it?”

There’s a chorus of agreement.

They all discuss who is going first, but Iman just directs Charles to the driver’s side. He looks at her with a brow raised in question, but then he follows her gaze and sees that Carlos is taking this lap. He smiles and nods.

Once in the car they strap in and Charles takes a few deep breaths. They’re given the signal to get into place and they get into a formation that works for them. Charles looks at her, a smirk on his lips that is equal parts cocky and confident.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

He extends his arm, his hand in a fist. Iman bumps it without question. Then they both turn forward and wait for the go ahead.

Despite seeing it at the same time as Charles and preparing herself, Iman's heart drops to her ass once he hits the gas. It takes a few seconds for her to chill out and by then they’re on the first turn.

Charles drives seamlessly and despite the blur of their surroundings Iman doesn't feel like she’s going terribly fast. Then a Mercedes sails by and then another. Without having to think about what’s happening. He is pushing it, but he’s holding back.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t let loose Charlie.”

He barely glances at her, probably to gauge if she means it, and then he pushes it. In about ten seconds he’s passed one of the cars in front of them and is fighting off the other. The others behind them catch up and it’s a battle back there, but it’s irrelevant to the one in front of them.

At every instance he tries to get around the Mercedes she knows Carlos is driving, but despite almost getting past he misses the mark by half a second. Before they know it they’re crossing the finish line barely behind the Mercedes. There’s a three way tie for the others about two seconds later.

And then everyone exits their cars. There’s some bragging and arguing. As Charles and Iman change sides he lightly bumps into Carlos with a frown on his face. He’s trying to seem upset, but the smile he’s wearing is wide.

“What about being comrades?” Charles jokes.

Carlos laughs. “Not here.”

Iman slides into the driver’s seat and takes a few deep breaths as her fingers trace the steering wheel. Nerves creep in, but they leave her the moment she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Charles looking at her with a bit of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“A little bit of nerves. Nothing I won’t shake as I put them behind us.”

That brings back the smirk that he wore when he was behind the wheel. There was obviously going to be some uncertainty about her being the only non-driver in the race, but as she smiles back at Charles she realizes he didn’t bring that up or seem bothered when she snatched him up from someone who he’d seen do this for a living. It was a nice reassurance. Even if she knew damn well she could hang with the big boys. At least in this kind of situation, behind an F1 car was another thing entirely.

A muffled shout interrupts the moment and Charles puts down his window, revealing Lewis with his own down. He’s smiling, but it’s that stupid lazy one he puts on when he’s feeling himself.

Annoying man.

“Ready to lose, Immy?”

Of course he uses that nickname while being annoying.

“You should be asking yourself that, LuLu.”

“Well, I am a seven time…”

Iman flips him off and he shuts up, looking appalled. Charles puts the window back up while laughing, but she catches Lewis’ returning the gesture.

Again Charles reaches out and they bump fists. Then it’s lights out and away they go.

In comparison Iman’s take off is delayed, but despite the few inches everyone has in front of her when she does get going, she closes and surpasses it. She puts her speed over one hundred and keeps it there on the first turn. Lewis pulls ahead and so does Lance, but she manages to evade being boxed out and puts a little over a second between them.

The next turn has her losing speed a little, but she regains it and keeps herself next to Lance and Daniel for the straight and then on the next turn, she guns it. With ease she ends up in front of Lance and then she’s next to the Mercedes. Lewis increases speed, but it doesn’t beat her out. In the final turn she does what she did in the last one and pushes the car to its limits. The last few feet before the end of the track are a close race, but at the last second she pushes further.

With her speed the car goes past the finish, but it’s a second or two before her brother crosses the line. Everyone else trails by a second or more and then they all leave the car. Iman is shaking from the speed and the excitement. Charles rushes over and pulls her into a hug she happily returns.

“That was great. No, excellent. You crushed it,” Charles says.

“Thank you.”

There’s some shit talking, but they all praise her.

Lewis is pouting, but it’s not fooling her at all. He’s the last to pull her into a hug and it’s tight.

“You did fucking phenomenal, Immy. I didn’t expect that. You blew away all expectations,” he says.

As he pulls away he kisses the top of her head and refuses to let her go. Pride shines on his face and she feels even more proud of herself. She feels like she’s the shit. There are no delusions of grandeur on the level they’re at, but she beat multiple professional racers at something adjacent to their own game and that’s good enough.

“I did learn some things from the best,” she says.

He laughs, throwing his head back a little and then pulls her into another hug. They pull away and Pato walks up, patting her arm.

“Maybe you should be in Nascar, that was better than your IndyCar test,” Pato says.

“Her what? You’re what?” Lewis moves so fast to look at Pato and Iman that he should have whiplash.

“Uh…”

Pato winces. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Iman Marie Hamilton. You’re what?”

He moves toward her just as she ducks behind Charles. With how serious - but not in a bodily harm way - he looks she’s sure Charles is going to move out of her brother’s war path, but he reaches a hand around and takes hold of her shirt. As Lewis tries to get around him he moves with her, using the shirt to leverage her.

“Maybe we should forget this and go to dinner.”

Sweet Charles is trying to de-escalate, but it’s not working and that’s in part because he can’t stop himself from giggling. Which turns Lewis ire from just Iman to both of them.

“LeClerc. Is this the war you want?”

Everyone holds their breath and seconds tick by.

“Yes.”

And without a word Iman breaks into a sprint with Charles following suit. Carlos has chosen Lewis' side so he goes for his teammate. Pato and Lance run interference for Iman while Alex and Daniel join in the sport of being the first to get to Charles. It’s chaos and it dissolves into laughter and labored breathing so quickly. Yet none of them stop.

You’d think they were all a bunch of children and not very much grown adults. But it’s so funny that Anne puts the camera people to work chasing them down for all the actions.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

155 notes · View notes

wolfscarr · 10 months

Text

Crimson Knolastname: Greedy Loving Heart. Character Analysis.

So been thinking about this for a hot minute and I’m probably guessing that Moxxie’s dad isn’t going to get anything beyond just being shitty....because he’s shitty.

Now given my love for Mafia aesthetic and Helluva Boss(as much as there is left anyway), I figure I would see about adding something to Crimson as a character as it relates to both his relationships involving his wife and son, as well as giving the location of the Greed Ring some kind of purpose, so let’s get into this.

So let’s start with the Greed Ring here. I think many overlook the fact of how certain Hellborn are shaped by where they grew up, or at least don’t take into account of certain things., I mean yeah some of it is obvious, such as with Millie being all tough and strong and that’s basically in our face with the fact of her being part of I.M.P, with Crimson....I feel like it’s not as obvious and people just jump to conclusions that he’s just an asshole because....he’s an asshole.

Now obviously yeah he’s an asshole, but folks think for a minute here. The Greed Ring is all about....well obvious Greed, so now Crimson grows up with this lifestyle of making money, getting things, all of this just further fueling his greed which corrupts him further and further. Then he joins(or was raised in) this Mafia within the Ring, which he eventually takes over. So now his Greed is only further multiplied as not only is he rich from his own ventures, he now controls everything, he now has immense power within the Greed Ring and he has reach throughout Hell.

^ Credit to Chii(LittleMissChii on Twitter, Helluva Boss Animation Lead).

So at some point, Crimson and his wife meet(still waiting for an official name) and they hit it off, Crimson woos her with that smooth talking and charm of his, he introduces her to the lifestyle that he lives and soon enough they are married. With the addition of having a wife, now his Greedy heart is just further consumed, now he loves his wife....but at the same time it’s also more he’s greedy about it, like he doesn’t want her attention to be on another person. He wants to keep her attention as much as possible, he doesn’t want her to focus on anyone else but him.

Everything up to this point for Crimson is going pretty well, we of course don’t really have any info of his past granted, but it soon all goes downhill anyway. So then we finally get to both Crimson and his wife, having their son Moxxie.

Now at first Crimson seems fine with Moxxie, because now he has an heir to all the stuff he has built up. He can mold Moxxie into basically a miniature version of himself, to carry on what he had built and maintained. Now surface level, this isn’t a bad thing, it’s not like wanting Family to take over a business is anything new, even in real life this happens. The problem with Crimson however, his heart is basically saturated in Greed by this point, he wants to just keep everything close to him....EVERYTHING, he doesn’t want anyone to leave or make their own choices.

Which leads to Crimson’s wife, trying to steer their son away from the lifestyle that her husband is trying to impose(or at least let him make the choice later on, if he really wants). But even moreso than just that....Moxxie is taking away Crimson’s wife from him, her attention isn’t nearly as focused on him like it was before they had their son. So now this hits Crimson hard, not only is his son being taken away from him, but his wife is as well...a bit obviously unintentional by Moxxie as he’s just a kid. Thus the fighting starts between the parents and eventually well, he ends up killing his wife in order to keep his heir and thus the security of what he has built. No one is going to take away his wife’s attention away, if he can’t have her attention, then no one else can.

So now years later, we see that Crimson has raised Moxxie and inducts him into the Mafia Lifestyle. For a time Moxxie is just going along with it, we still see at this point Crimson isn’t looking to harm Moxxie, in fact he seems rather proud of him. But then of course....Moxxie ends up leaving his Family and obviously we all know what happens after, with Crimson being obviously pissed at his son for ditching everything.

Crimson is rightfully upset, because he put basically everything he had into Moxxie, to mold him as best as he could into his heir. But Moxxie is clearly not like his Father and Crimson isn’t doing this for Moxxie’s benefit, he’s doing all of this for his own selfish Greed. When his son completely ruins that.....well obviously we see later what happens in the episode.

==========

The long and short of it, is this folks. Crimson’s heart was corrupted heavily by Greed, I believe that Crimson did in fact love his Family. But he didn’t love them in a manner that wasn’t having something to do with Greed, first and foremost Greed took over any sort of love that he had for them. Which makes sense given where Crimson clearly grew up in, Greed affected him and had him spiral down a destructive path.

I’m not saying this excuses his actions or anything, I mainly went through this character analysis to give something to his character as far as depth goes. Because I have a feeling he’s not going to get any of that sort within the show itself, plus again I’m a bit of a sucker for Mafia aesthetic and I feel like his whole ‘character’ was just wasted and he came across as really dumb.

...Also give us an official name for Mrs. Knolastname already!

#Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss Crimson #Helluva Crimson #Crimson Knolastname #Helluva Boss Moxxie #Helluva Moxxie #Moxxie #Helluva Boss Critical #Helluva Character Analysis #moxxie's mother #moxxie's mom #Helluva Critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique

268 notes · View notes

gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind · 3 months

Text

Are Tim Drake fans actually blaming Dick for Tim being Robin and all the trauma that comes with being a hero? Is that actually something that is happening? Is this actually for real? Is Tim the Robin who chose or not? (*every one of them chose to be Robin but people think Tim is the only one defined by that choice because reasons? But isnt it so interesting that now fans are 'um, actually-' ing) Do you know how heroing works? Do you guys understand the typical conventions of a superhero world? Do you think Tim reluctantly became Robin? That he wishes he'd never made that choice? That he didn't have a choice? Do you guys know literally anything about Tim and his origins or his tenure as Robin at all?

Why are you blaming Dick for not wanting to go back to being Robin? Why the fuck would he want to be Robin? Bruce may have fired him but he's the one that specifically left Bruce, and to go back to being Robin would be to go back to being under Bruce's thumb again, and why the fuck would he ever do that? I actually extremely dislike Tim's origins, because who the fuck do you think you are to beg someone to go back to the controlling asshole in their life, the one that literally just decked them and kicked them out of their childhood home, to assume you owe that person just for raising you, to do all this in the middle of a grief you know nothing of, to insert yourself into the extremely strained relationship of the two people who were once so insync they were called the dynamic duo- like....if Tim had confronted any other person he would've been clocked, he wouldn't have been given the time of day. Dick literally has the patience of a saint. (And do not go thinking that this is worse than what Bruce did by stealing Robin and just giving it away to the first kid who marginally looked like young Dick cause thats definitely worse. This is bad because hello?? You literally have no business being here and saying this and assuming shit. That is bad because Bruce stole his fucking name! His reputation! The only link to his parents! And gave it all away to a stranger! And after that he never ever gets a say in how or who becomes Robin, every Robin after Dick has always been inevitable, something Dick is resigned to. He advocates for the Robins, he accepts them, he is in their corner, but he is definitely resigned to what Robin has become without his permission.)

Why is it that whenever someone wants to bring up an issue they have with Bruce, they take it out on Dick instead?

It's not Dicks fault that Bruce is so dependent on him that he needs a Dick substitute at all times or he'll fall even more to pieces!

#dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #anti tim drake fans #cause yall so fucking annoying!!!#robin #my posts

84 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 2 years

Note

don't be shy 👀 spare some thots, Mint

tw: weed, manipulation

yuujis older brother sukuna who plays video games with you while you wait for yuuji to come back from a baseball party. he gives you a beer or two, shares a joint, and lets you win at smash for a long time-- something unusually nice.

"lets make a bet," Sukuna says, ever so casually, "You win the next round, I'll give you fifty bucks. "

This peaks your interest. you're a broke college kid-- fifty bucks is a lot. The weed has you stupid, gullible-

but you know there's a catch. "And if I lose?"

"I get to touch your pussy." he replies evenly, flipping between a couple characters. He decides on Bowser, a character he hasn't played yet.

"What?" you cough, choking on your suddenly very dry throat. He's been behaved all night, the only touches seemingly accidental, but he was just holding back, waiting for the right moment.

"I get. To touch. Your pussy." The corners of his mouth creep up and the skin around his tattoos crinkles, "You're going to win anyway, so what does it matter? Just take the bet and buy a couple pizzas or whatever."

"Fine. Whatever." you select your character and hit enter, the music raring to life, "You better actually have the money right now. None of this 'I'll pay you later' bullshit."

The round is over in less than a minute. Sukuna tosses the controller to the side, wicked smile even wider now that he's won. He didn't lose a single life, played way harder than he did earlier-

You suspect he hustled your ass, but you don't have time to think about that. Not when he's crawling towards you, hands tugging on the hem of your skirt and he presses you down onto your back.

"Right now?" you whisper, despite no one else being home.

"You wanted the money right now." Sukuna mocks. He flips the hem of your skirt into your stomach, exposing your panties. You're relieved for some reason that you wore a cute set this morning-- not that you care about his opinion. "I want the pussy right now. None of this 'I'll pay you later' bullshit."

Usually, you'd tell him to fuck off, but weed has you relaxed. Maybe even a little horny. You aren't drunk, aren't particularly stoned-- just in the right mindset to be touched by someone as pretty as him.

Less than reluctantly, you pull your panties to the side and revel in the face of excitement he makes.

"Shit, you're wet." he sucks air through his teeth, "Sure you didn't lose on purpose?"

You close your eyes, prepared for the warm touch of his fingers, only to be greeting by the distinct tinkle of his belt.

You sober up immediately. " I'm not fucking you."

"Geez, you think I'm a real asshole, huh? I'm just touching you- I'm just not using my hands." Sukuna shrugs as he frees his semi-hard cock from his jeans. It's unfortunately fat already, something that shouldn't turn you on, but does.

He slots himself against you, one leg over yours, the other under, and taps the sticky head of his cock against your clit. "See? Just touching."

He pulls back, rolling his hips so his full length runs through you, "Just letting my cock get to know you."

2K notes · View notes

ilikepjo24 · 4 months

Text

Octavian is not the villain all of you make him out to be.

He's annoying. He slices open teddy bears to supposedly see the future. He's a rich boy (although we never actually see him brag about that). Out of context, he sounds like a demonic toddler. He's a blackmailer. He's a fucking asshole. But that's all.

Not trusting Percy? Perfectly normal. If all your life you were told that there's this group of people that you've been in war with ever since before the Roman Empire was a thing, that this group of people hates you with a burning passion and wants nothing more than to see your doom, that you've hurt and humiliated them and they've hurt you and humiliated you back, that they inferior to you in every way, and then a person from that group showed up at your doorstep, chased by monsters and started making friends with a suspicious looking guy that turned out being a spy and an undead person, would you trust them?

Personally, I wouldn't. Remember, the audience knows and loves Percy, but to a stranger Percy is a random, aggressive, powerful dude that causes chaos everywhere he goes and is the main suspect in multiple cases of terrorism. To Octavian, a person he knew and had worked with and might have enjoyed the presence of suddenly went missing, and then this troublesome, forbidden kid shows up and hangs out with a spy and a zombie. What reason could he possibly have to like Percy? How is he a villain for not trusting Percy? He's just being a freaking sane person dude.

Not go mention that Percy was also a forbidden child, one that typically everyone is wary of. And what does the greek forbidden child that causes chaos and develops friendships with spies and zombies do? He goes in one quest and is immediately granted the position that Octavian has wanted and has been working for for years, which happens to be the same position that Octavian's... Friend (?) had before he literally went missing. Doesn't it sound a bit suspicious when your powerful friend disappears, and a powerful potential enemy with questionable company shows up and steals your friend's job?

What luck, am I right? For a powerful enemy to show up as soon as there's a position of power open that needs to be filled by somebody who has power? Who's to say that Nico, who was later on proven to be a spy, wasn't send there by Percy? Who's to say Percy wasn't the one to kidnap and maybe even kill Jason, so that the position of the praetor would be open for him to take, and then allow Greeks into the camp so that they can destroy it and win this endless, centuries old war between Romans and Greeks?

And isn't that exactly what Percy ended up doing? He was granted praetorship, allowed Greeks into that camp on a heavily weaponed, flying warship, and they ended up blowing up part of the camp!

And what excuse do they give him for that? "This dude you don't know and don't trust and has built this warship got possessed by a ghost who we claim is rising but have no real, solid proof to support this claim. But she is rising and she did posses Leo, he didn't want to do it, he's a good guy that just happened to walk into your property with a huge weapon and blew up your house by accident. Despite all you've ever been taught about Greeks and despite that all the history books have told you about how much they hate you, and despite the extremely suspicious circumstances surrounding the situation, and despite blowing up your home, Greeks actually love you and want to work with you. Trust me bro." And this was coming from the dude that was friends with a literal spy that lied and kept secrets from everyone.

You know guys, you're right, I'm starting to see why all of you hate Octavian so much. He's being so unreasonable and overreacting over such small things. 😐 /sarcasm.

And then you were all upset that he gathered an army to go to war against the people that threw bombs in his house to defend himself.

Octavian was a dick, that's out of the question. He manipulated and blackmailed people. But the only thing he did that crossed the line of "dick" and entered "villain" territory was being the primary suspect for Gwen's murder. And she didn't even stay dead, so even that is not that bad.

This proven.

And for scientific reasons, I want to see if I actually convinced anyone.

115 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 3 months

Note

i think i’ll die if we don’t get pt. 2 of sev and her trans identity, it was so good, i let out a breathe of contentment. thank you so much 💗💗💗

omg i'm so glad u liked it! i got another request for more of ceo sev, so i'm gonna combine these two :)

request for ceo Sevika & reader during their first meet/interviewing process pls 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

men and minors dni

sevika's loving being ceo.

nobody dares to give her even an inkling of shit at work anymore, and she thinks it's kinda funny watching people who were once so vile to her cower in fear when they deliver reports to her office.

she's good at her job, if a little scary when pissed. since she's started as ceo, the company's seen better numbers than ever before, all thanks to the changes she implemented the moment she took over.

the pay raise has been great too. with so much more disposable income, sevika's started to treat herself more and more frequently to pretty things and fun experiences.

most of her wardrobe is designer, custom tailored to her measurements. she's got several nice pieces of jewelry, gold chains and watches that all cost more than her yearly paycheck when she was working as a busser as a kid.

she's gotten herself two new cars, and moved herself into a penthouse apartment high above the twinkling lights of the city below.

she's been getting weekly massages and facials, and she's started getting her toes and nails done too-- nothing fancy, just a clear coat on top of perfectly manicured nails.

all in all, sevika's living her best life.

but there's one problem.

(two, if you ask her when she's drunk enough.)

the main problem is that she still can't find a good assistant. it's been a year and a half of her new position, and she's already gone through six assistants.

(the other problem, which she holds much closer to her heart, is that she's got a giant, luxurious bed at home, and nobody to cuddle her in it.)

her first assistant was... fine. he wasn't anything special, but he did his job well enough that sevika was willing to keep him around. he quit after four months, though, apparently 'tired of the office environment.'

the next three assistants all came and went within a week. the first was fired when sevika caught them snorting a line of cocaine off of her desk. the second quit after her she spilled an entire pot of coffee on herself. and the third made a sly remark under her breath that sevika hadn't been meant to hear, but heard anyways.

she found a reliable assistant in an ambitious young man, but he left after six months to return to university to get his graduate degree. he recommended his cousin take over the position, and sevika took him up on it.

his cousin was a nice young woman who held out for a few months with sevika, and made her coffee just like she liked it. but when her boyfriend proposed and asked her to move cross-country with him for his job, she said yes, and left sevika high and dry once again.

so now she's back to interviews. she fucking hates interviews.

she groans as she struts to her office door trying to give herself a pep-talk as she swings her glass door open and looks toward the reception desk for her next interview.

she chokes on her tongue when she sees you sitting in a chair, fiddling with the corner of your resume as you wait.

you're... beautiful. everything about you. sevika takes a moment to gawk at you before you notice her. you're like a walking wet dream just fucking... appeared in her waiting room. sevika's not sure if she's going to be able to get through this interview.

she calls your name off her clipboard, trying to ignore how much she likes the word in her mouth, and she loses her breath completely when your eyes snap up from your resume and you smile at her.

oh fuck. please let her be an asshole. sevika thinks, unwilling to believe someone as seemingly perfect as you could exist.

you're actually the farthest thing from an asshole in the world.

you're charming and giggly and you've got really great questions for sevika, like how she likes her coffee and what time she normally eats lunch.

you're under-qualified for the job, and when sevika points this out you cringe and shrug, scratching the back of your neck endearingly.

"i've never been a personal assistant before-- but i'm an incredibly fast learner, and if i can be honest, for this much money? i'd give a limb to keep you happy." you say, chuckling. sevika gulps, and bites her tongue to keep from saying some of the suggestions swirling in her mind of other ways you could keep her happy.

"well, a limb won't be necessary, but i should warn you. i've been told i can be a bit... cold. i'm no good with words, and i don't talk if i don't need to. it's nothing personal." she says. you smirk and tilt your head at her.

"you?" you ask, your eyes dancing up and down sevika's form in a way that makes her feel... tingly. "yeah, i guess i could see that." you say, giggling. sevika furrows her brow as she studies you.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks. something inside of her bubbles up, defensive and ready to kick you out of her office the second you say something wrong. she's been working on her defensive anger with her new therapist, well aware that it's just a way of protecting herself from potential disappointment, but she can't help it right now. because she'd be so fucking disappointed if you-- pretty, charming, slightly ditzy you-- were suddenly an asshole out of nowhere.

you just giggle and shrug. "you're so pretty it's hard to tell at first glance, but now that we're talking i can see that grumpiness creeping through." you say, smiling.

are you... teasing her?

and did you just call her pretty?

sevika blinks at you, the swirl of anger in her stomach fizzling out and leaving her vulnerable. she bites her lip, shakes her head, and reminds herself that this is a job interview. not a first date. she shouldn't be feeling all soft and giddy and excited right now.

she clears her throat and looks through her notes. you've answered all her questions, you've given the right answers for them all too. there's nothing left for her to do but just give in and hire you-- you're clearly perfect for the job.

she needs to find something wrong with you before she fucking... falls in love with you right here and now.

sevika takes a deep breath, then starts her interrogation.

"this job... it's not nine to five. that's what everyone else in the office works, but you'll be here when i get in to when i leave. some days, you'll be here before sunrise 'til after sunset." she says. you nod.

"that's fine with me." you say. sevika huffs.

"and you should know... i'm gay." she says, cringing the second the words leave her mouth. she never talks about this in interviews, but she's just hoping that you react poorly so she can write you off. you just blink at her.

"o-okay?" you ask. "are you asking me out or something?" you say, giggling. this catches her off guard, and sevika's jaw drops.

"what?" she asks. you shrug.

"i mean... i'd be into it, but i'd kinda like to know if i got the job before you take me to dinner." you say, laughing. sevika snorts, a smile pulling at her lips, and she pinches herself to keep from leaping across the table and kissing you.

"i'm trans too." she blurts. you blink at her again.

"...okay." you say, a little confused. "if you want... i could put reminders in your daily schedule for your hormones?" you ask, trying to figure out how the revelation ties to the job interview.

sevika just blinks at you, shocked and a little pissed off that the woman of her dreams has appeared in her life, only to become her assistant rather than her girlfriend.

sevika grunts, rubs her face, then sighs as she looks at you. you look concerned.

"did i do something wrong?" you ask, nervous. sevika sighs.

"no. you're perfect. i'm just... where the fuck have you been this whole time?" she asks, a little hysterical. you break out into a bright smile, and sevika's heart does a backflip.

"so...?"

"can you start tomorrow?"

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

133 notes · View notes

drysdaleknieslee · 2 months

Text

Wipe Out Pt. 3

Hiii! I'm sorry for this LATE update but you guys wanted more Luke and Lia and I hope I delivered. I hope this isn't too short but I wanted to make it as sweet as possible.

Enjoy!

Wipe Out Part 3

These past four weeks have been the best yet most chaotic weeks of my life. Our team is undefeated now and UMICH’s men’s hockey is on a heater except for five losses. Me and Luke have gotten closer despite us both having taxing schedules. I’ve been getting close with the other guys as well and their chaotic personalities.

I’m currently sitting in the library with Ollie to my left and Kayleigh to my right. Farah, Mark’s girlfriend, sits in front of me as we all stare at this stats homework as if it was a different language.

“I hope the person that decided that stats was needed in the world has a warm pillow on both sides.” Mumbles Ollie as her head is face down on the table.

“Let’s take a break,” said Farah yawning, “it does no good staring at the same problem if we’re tired.”

We all mumble a agreement as I rub my eyelids. I understand the material but boy is it vexing.

“Me and Farah will go get lunch from Tropical Smoothie, you guys want anything?” I opt for a standard strawberry kiwi smoothie and Ollie asks for a sandwich and a chocolate peanut butter smoothie.

After the girls leave it’s me and Ollie, and she’s got a devious grin on her face. “Go ahead and spit it out Ollie.” She’s the nosiest girl I know.

“How’s everything with you and Luke by the way? Anything planned after mid terms?”

I hadn’t thought about that. Me and Luke have just been in the talking stage. He still seemed interested…I hope.

“Judging from the silence I’d say nothing about it has come up?”

“No…should I ask?”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

I take my phone out and open me and Luke’s chat. I don’t think he has practice today…

@Lia.li.23: hey…do you have plans after mid-terms?

It takes no time for those little text bubbles to show up.

@L.hughes_06: Me and the guys were planning on renting a lake house. The girlfriends are coming too. I was gonna ask you about it in class tomorrow.

@L.hughes_06: Ollie mentioned it didn’t she? 🙄

I cut my eyes towards Ollie to see that same devious grin on her face. She mentioned it on purpose. I rolled my eyes and smiled when phone buzzed again.

@L.hughes_06: Do you want to go? If you don’t already have plans…

@Lia.li.23: I’d love to! I don’t have any plans.

@L.hughes_06: great! Let me send you the information for the house.

He sends me the address of the Air BnB. It’s close near Ann Arbor and it’s a cozy little cabin but big enough to hold ten college kids. I hope there are enough rooms…

Luke’s POV

I was nervous about telling Lia about the lake house because we’ve been talking for a while but I’m too chicken to ask her on an actual date. And me thinking about her isn’t gonna get this econ homework done. Midterms aren’t making it any better either.

Duke and Luca are in the kitchen supposed to be making a “midterm break snack” but now I realize their using that as a ploy not to work. Only real people working is me, Rutger, and Ethan.

“Those assholes left us here to suffer” grumbled Rutger.

I’m not even staring at my computer as now I’m thinking about Lia being at the lake house and how I can possibly ask her out. She’s been to almost every one of our games as we have almost been to all of hers. But just meeting at sporting events and class doesn’t count as moving forward in a relationship. If that’s even what you call it…

“You’re not thinking about Econ my friend” said Ethan, breaking my train of thought.

“I wanna ask Leah on a date, but I’m not sure how to…”

Rutger and Ethan give each other a confused and dumbfounded look before looking at me like I had three heads. “You two gonna say something or keep looking at me like I’m stupid?”

“You’ve never asked a girl out before?”

My face heats up in embarrassment as I had to admit I’m the least experienced in the dating department.

“…No…”

“WHAT?!”

Luca and Duke finally come barreling out of the kitchen with bewildered looks on their faces.

“YOU’VE NEVER ASKED A GIRL OUT?!” I wonder how quietly and quickly I can get rid of my roommates to end the misery I caused myself.

“Next he’ll say he’s a virgin.” Said Rutger.

The room goes silent as they all stare at me. They expect me to say I’ve seen some action. I’m already on the verge of slamming my head into my laptop and having to admit this will be the 13th reason.

“Oh my god.”

“Luke, dude, your…actually a virgin?”

“I’ve done it before you?” said Luca grinning.

“That was with my sister you ass, and I told you not to bring that up around me!” said Rutger now looking disgusted on top of pissed.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll help out. The one’s with girlfriends at least” says, shooting daggers at Duke and Luca as he says it.

“I just want to be able to spend time with her outside of school stuff. Get to know her more and show that I’m serious about this.”

They all stare at me again, this time with more tenderness. They see their friend who’s so hopelessly in love it hurts. I like Lia. A lot. Since the moment I met her. Eyes big and full of wonder and fear as she has to move to a whole new state for school. And after talking to her for weeks and seeing her dedication to her sport as much as he is to hockey, he wants nothing more than to show her he’s serious.

Hours later, they finally finish studying and they advise a plan for Luke and Lia’s date.

Lia’s POV

Volleyball practice was early this morning to prepare for our last game before midterms and break. To say I’m sore is an understatement.

I walk into my econ class to spot the three stooges, Ethan, Rutger, and Luke, all in the fourth row. I always sat in front of them as they wouldn’t let me sit anywhere else. I notice something is up though, as Ethan and Rutger sit with two big Cheshire cat grins on their faces. That at 9:00 in the morning was abnormal for them.

“You’re not high are you?” I ask as I place my bag down and sit with some difficulty.

“I wish” said Rutger, “but no. Just happy for today.”

That was cryptic. I look at Luke and he grins at me before giving me a small wave.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You doing ok there?”

I winced before I fully sat down. “Coach had us do an early practice” I whispered at the professor came in.

I was able to focus through most of the lecture when I couldn’t hear the three stooges behind me giggling and fussing behind me.

After the midterm started the rest was smooth sailing. Only two more to go today and then, it’ll be break time.

After the exam, whoever finished could leave. Luke finished before me and before he passed me he whispered ‘wait for me’ before dropping off his test and walking out the door. I finished a few minutes later and got up to drop my test off before leaving the classroom. I walk outside and Luke is waiting for me, scrolling on his phone while leaning against a pillar.

“Are we gonna wait for Ethan and Rutger?”

He looks up at me at the sound of my voice and chuckles lightly. “Nah, those two are gonna take forever to finish.”

I laughed lightly and then there was silence for a second. Just half a beat of us trying to see who was gonna talk first.

“You mind walking with me for a sec? I know your legs are probably sore so we can either sit here…or I can carry you?”

I look at him surprised. “You can’t carry me Luke I’m too heavy!”

“I’m stronger than I look Lia” he said with that crooked smile. He waits for me to decide. I really don’t want to burden him, but my legs are killing me. I won’t turn down chivalry.

“Fine but tell me if you need to rest and I can walk the rest of the way.”

He just laughs lightly before getting on one knee in front of me to get on. He doesn’t have a bag with him as it’s just exams today. I hesitantly grab onto his shoulders as he moves to grab my legs before hoisting me up.

“I have my bag too Luke so please- “

“Lia, you’re not heavy. With or without your bag. Where’s your next exam at?”

You turn your head to hide your blush before mumbling, “the history building.”

He starts heading towards the history building at good pace. I’m tall but being this high feels weird. I look around the campus trying to distract myself from focusing on the felling of Luke’s hold on my legs.

It was a comfortable silence. Luke kept his firm hold on me and I held his shoulders. They were previously around his neck but he jolted me and I nearly choked him.

“Can I ask you something?” he said breaking the silence.

“Of course.”

“When is your last exam?”

“Friday. I have one before the game and them I’m free.” I was currently Wednesday. I had two exams today, one tomorrow, and the last one being stats.

“After the game, do you want to go somewhere with me?”

Oh my god he’s gonna ask me out!

I can feel him getting nervous waiting for my answer.

“I’d love that. Where do you have in mind?”

He can’t rub his neck like he usually does so he opts for stroking my leg. It’s throwing off my train of thought.

“There’s a rink, uhm, that me and my brothers usually go to when we visit her, and I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me and I teach you how to skate like me mom taught me and my brothers- “

“Luke. Breathe. I’d really like that.”

He sighs of relief, and I notice the back of his neck turning red. After the trek, we make it to the history building for my last exam of the day.

“We’ll go after the game. Dress warmly.”

I hop down from his back, and he goes to stretch as if his back was killing him. He gives me a cheeky grin before I punch him in the arm, and he actually winces with a ‘oww’.

“Don’t make you upset. Noted.”

“Bye Luke, thanks for the lift.”

“Your welcome Lia.” The way he said it while looking at me like that, he seemed like he didn’t want to leave. And frankly, I don’t want him to either. He stands with me until the professor shows to start the exam and I have to shoo him away before he misses his own exam.

It was hard for me to think about past historic events when I keep thinking about Luke’s hand on my leg and the look of longing he had before he left my classroom.

I have a date with Luke Hughes.

#luke hughes #luke x lia #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader

57 notes · View notes

strangersteddierthings · 10 months

Text

Untitled Song

An installment in the The Interview universe.

"This is a love song."

"What? No, it's not!" Steve argues, looking back down at the notebook.

"It reads like a love song. The little bit you just sang for me has love song vibes," Robin leans more of her weight onto Steve's back, where she's standing over his shoulder reading the lyrics.

He stares down at the page. "Yeah. Okay. I see it. But, like, I didn't mean it to be all love song vibey."

"I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute," Robin reads in a flat tone, unimpressed.

"Okay! Stop, I don't- I mean- ugh!" Steve slumps forward, resting his forehead on the page of lyrics. "Okay, fine, but like, in context I'm clearly talking about like, reliving my whole life. I would do it all again."

"Did you just say that this is clearly about your whole life because if so, I want to be on the same drugs as you," Robin pushes off of him to move around the table and plop into the chair across from him. She tries her best to level him with a stare, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction by refusing to lift his head. The downside of being soulmates, she decides. He knows what she's going to do and when and can, therefore, avoid it. "Look, I get that he was, like, your first love and high school sweetheart but he couldn't have been that good of a fuck. It was just inexperience that made-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts over her, looking at her now so she can see his scandalized expression. Ha! She takes it back. It's an upside to being soulmates because she knows exactly what to say to rial him up. "It's not about the sex! It's about all of it. Everything. I don't- what Eddie did was shitty and it fucking hurt, but that was ten years ago. This song is about everything."

She doesn't see it that way, but even with how well she's able to read him, Steve's mind has always had its own way of thinking she can't quite nail down. With a sigh, she says, "Alright. Benefit of doubt time. Explain the song to me."

"It's not just about Eddie. It's about my whole life. You know how my parents were, how high their expectations were and how I had to hide almost everything about me while I lived with them. That's the my life was a storm since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane bit. And if I hadn't dated Eddie, like, at all. Well, I was already on the track to being an asshole in elementary school. Can you imagine who I would have been in high school if I was still that kid?

"It's also, like, if Eddie and I had stayed together... If we hadn't- I hadn't broken up with him, would I have met Dustin? Or Lucas and Max? Will or Mike, Nancy, and Jonathan? It's like, the years directly after Hey Steve were absolute dogshit, yeah, but it brought me all the people I love now," Steve looks down to the page again, either avoiding her eye contact or finding it too much. She's not sure which one. "If Eddie and I had stayed together there was only option for my future. Once the car had been fully put in my name, I'd have told Eddie to pick a city and we'd have left, for Eddie to chase his dream while I chased him. I wouldn't have gone to Chicago with you, never had the money to purchase that first place to live with you. Maybe never have discovered I loved interior design and house renovation. So, I would do it all again. It brought me my family."

She understands, now, what the lyrics really mean to him. However, she's also the one person in the whole world close enough to Steve to actually see it. "I get what you are saying. But these lyrics do not tell that story. Knowing your reasoning behind it does make me see them that way. But no one who hears that is going to know your tragic backstory."

"So, should I re-write this?"

"Depends. What is your goal with this... statement. What is the best case scenario."

Steve blinks at her. "Oh. Uh, best case, huh? I guess... I want to talk to Eddie, again. We parted on real bad terms, and I think I want closure from that?"

She narrows her eyes at him, judging. "Are you angry, like, at all?" She is. She's still furious with Eddie. His fucking song had blown Steve's life up virtually overnight. But also, she had thought they were friends, too. She hadn't realized their friendship was conditional, with that condition being he and Steve having to be in a relationship.

And, yeah, logically she knows she was Steve's friend first and it would be easy to default to believing she'd be on Steve's side but she wasn't. Not at first.

When Steve had shown up at her house, having gone straight from Eddie's to hers after he told them they were over, she'd held him through the night as he cried. But in the morning, she'd told him she needed to check on Eddie. He was her best friend, too. But Wayne told her he was gone, left last night to Chicago. Wayne had offered her a ride there with him, after he got Eddie's van running again and went to take it to him.

She said she'd think about it. Tried to reach out over all the socials, but Eddie didn't even check them, and then Hey Steve came out and there wasn't any room left in her to care about Eddie and his emotional state.

Not anymore. Not when he'd left her, too. Not when, even after Robin had made her own way to fame, he declined to meet with her. She'd tried to reach out but who was she, a new comer to the music scene and barely known, to Eddie Fucking Munson, lead guitarist to Corroded Coffin?

"I mean, sure, but like... it's been ten years. I don't- I have better things to think about than how mad I was... am? at Eddie. We were friends, first, y'know. And it's complicated. You know this," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Robin waves off his words, "you're whole Eddie was a part of my life for longer than he's been gone from it thing. I'm not sure that the fifteen years of your childhood should be counted the same as this decade of adulthood."

"I get that you don't want to forgive him, and that's fine. But, forgiveness or not, I want closure."

"Okay. Keep the song as is."

"Really?"

"Yes," Robin says, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face. If Steve records and shares what sounds like a love song, there's almost a 100% chance that Gareth will reach out again. She knows they're expecting to see an angry and hurt Steve, but instead they'll get this? Robin's not above playing unfair. She hopes this breaks Eddie, consumes him with a guilt as deep as the original hurt felt. "I think we should let everyone think it's your sad, pathetic, pining for a decades-old-love song. It'll definitely get Gareth reaching out to me and my team again."

"Gareth's reached out?"

"It's his job. He's Corroded Coffin's PR Manager now, apparently. When Lauri told me Gareth had reached out, I asked to be included in the call. Anyway, not the point. The point is, if you want to talk to Eddie, this love song is the trick."

"It's not a love song!"

"Whatever you say, Dingus. Sing it again so I can imagine the music to go with it."

#the interview #platonic stobin #my fic #just a little scene about why robin let steve record a love song in her studio #she wanted to hurt eddie as much as he hurt her and steve #does she feel guilty about it? eventually #anyway #enjoy this little snippet that didnt end up in the original fic

184 notes · View notes