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#oh to rob his closet
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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safe
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words: 1.1k
warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe
“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.
“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.
“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”
“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”
“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”
“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.
“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”
“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”
“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”
“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.
“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”
you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.
“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.
“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.
he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.
“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”
you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.
“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.
“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.
“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”
“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”
“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.
“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”
“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”
“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.
“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.
“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”
“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.
“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.
“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”
“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.
“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.
“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”
you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.
“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”
you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3
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a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.
Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface
Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)
In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 
But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 
Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 
White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.
In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 
Ignoring him has become an art form as well.
Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.
The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 
Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 
As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 
The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 
- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.
Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 
- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?
Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 
A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 
Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 
- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.
- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 
Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 
- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.
- But you can't, so you won't.
A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 
- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.
Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 
- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.
Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 
- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 
Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 
You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 
An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.
- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.
You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.
That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.
*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 
So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 
And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 
Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 
The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 
The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 
Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.
- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.
- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.
- You're thinking, it's annoying.
Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 
Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 
God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.
- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?
Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 
- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.
It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.
You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.
He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.
God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 
Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...
Of course he noticed. 
Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.
- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.
Dagnerous, this is dangerous.
 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 
It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 
Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 
People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.
The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 
- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?
Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.
- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.
The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.
- Let me go. 
His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 
The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.
- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.
- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.
He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.
Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 
Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 
His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 
- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.
And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 
Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 
- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?
You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 
- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.
Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 
Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 
You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 
That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 
It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.
As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 
Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.
- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!
All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.
- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...
- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.
The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 
It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 
And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 
To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 
You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.
He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.
He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 
- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 
- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.
Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 
- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.
Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 
Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 
- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.
- Fuck you.
- After the wedding, my Viper.
And with that, he turns around.
 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 
It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 
The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?
Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 
It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 
So you dance. 
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cultrise · 7 months
Text
HATE FUCKING. PROWLER!HOBIE
⚝ CONTENTS NSFW, rough sex (consensual), reader gets manhandled, a little dumbification, degradation, hobie has a frenum & a lorum piercing ᵎᵎ wc 2.5k
ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !
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24 days, 18 hours and 4 minutes have passed since you and your now ex-boyfriend, hobie brown, have broken up.
life being hobie’s girlfriend wasn’t always pink. he didn’t like to open up that much, you often felt like he kept secrets and he always ignored any problems that arose in the relationship. and even though you loved each other, even though the relationship was great overall and the sex was amazing, the last straw was finding out that hobie was none other than the vigilante ‘the prowler’, which was hunted down heavily by police.
it all happened when you came across a box of interesting gadgets and designs, detailed schematics and tools to use for building them. now sure, you had some suspicions for a while about what hobie’s actual job entailed but hearing it out of his mouth was like getting stabbed. it wasn’t necessarily the information that he was indeed the prowler that gutted you, but more-so the absolute audacity of this man to put his life at risk and lie to you about it.
it all ended up becoming a huge fight that lasted for hours, time in which you insulted each other to the bone, yelled until your lungs gave out and threw everything you could get your hands on at each other. you were devastated. sure, your relationship might not have been perfect, but how did hobie expect for you to trust him if he couldn’t trust you with a part of his own identity? the summary of the fight resulted into you two breaking up in an ugly way and having the worst meltdowns possible because of it.
now, after so many days, you had finally tricked yourself into believing the outcome was for the best. you had stashed every item that had ever belonged to hobie into a box and placed it into the corner of your closet, saying you’ll throw it out when you get the time. obviously, that never happened, as you always found new excuses not to. you were sure you hated hobie.
and in retrospect, hating him was better than acknowledging how badly still loving him hurt. you dreaded the nighttime because you knew the moment you cuddled up in bed you were met with memories and dreams of him that would just not leave you be. even his pillow had lost all scent of him.
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you entered your apartment with a sigh, tossing your keys on the couch. it had been a long day, with a long shift at work and even though your stomach was rumbling and your house was a mess, the only thing on your mind was slipping out of those clothes and get into bed. as you removed your jacket you heard the sound of footsteps against the floor. you looked around, panicked. no.. must’ve been coming from outside? until, you hear it again.
you quickly grab a knife from the kitchen, holding it in a trembling hand as you make your way to the source of the sound: your bedroom. as you step in you see a tall, shadowy figure going through your closet and you raise your hand, to strike. with a sudden shift you feel a hand go to your wrist, a tight grip making you drop the knife to the floor. you were about to scream before one large hand dropped over you mouth and you felt the familiar scent of cigarettes hit your nostrils.
“what the fuck, woman? are ya’ insane?” hobie half-yells as he takes a step back, letting you take the information in. he was there. in front of you. in your room. he looked,, awful. “what the fuck are you doing in my house?” you say between grit teeth as his face softens and he sighs “i uh.. came t’.. get my stuff” his eyes trail to the prowler mask that lay on your desk.
“you could’ve called. i thought i was getting robbed!” you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrow “i did. y’blocked my fucking phone number!” oh yeah. you did do that. oops. you play with your fingers anxiously “right..” hobie says with a big breath as he turns around to the closet “okay, maybe stop going through my stuff?” you place a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away. hobie watches you with wide, confused eyes.
“i wasn’t? i’m lookin’ for my stuff because i know this is whe’e you keep your shit! stop making a fuss out of anythin’ “ he groans as he turns again “oh, i’m making a fuss?” “oh great, there we go” hobie scoffs as you grab him by his jacket “you listen to me. you don’t get to come to my house uninvited and start bitching. now move over so i can give you your shit and leave. i’m sick of you” you push him to the side with a hiss, starting to look for his box of things.
hobie rolls his eyes, trying not to let his demeanour drop. he didn’t come over with the thought of getting back together, even if it was permanently on his mind. but hearing you treat him like that.. it hurt. he sat himself down on your chair, propping his legs up on the desk as he waited.
after a short amount of time you pull the box out, placing it on the table with a loud bang “there. it’s all in here” hobie gets up and starts going through it with pursed lips “is this?…” he asks wide-eyes as he takes out a studded bracelet with your initials on it, his first ever gift to you “yeah.. it is.. i have no use for it anymore so feel free to give it to someone else” you cross your arms, not meeting his stare.
hobie did not consider himself a sensitive person at all. yet in that moment it was as if glass shattered into his toracic cavity and pierced through his every muscle “give.. give it to someone else?” he scoffs in disbelief “i gave this to you” he says as he holds a hand out, trying to see if you’re going to take it or not. you shake your head after a few moments of hesitation “no. i dont need it. and in case you havent realised it yet, i hate you. so please, be on your way” you gesture to the door.
this time, hobie is overcome by rage “say tha’ again?” your eyes finally meet his, watching them get darker “what? that i hate you?” you almost feel hobie’s patience snap in half “you hate me now, d’you?” he spits out. you, however, hold your ground “yeah. i do. i think i made myself pretty clear” a hand flies to your wrist once again, pulling you closer “i think you need to stop lying to y’self”
you try to pull yourself away from his grip “hobie! let go!” the man just towers over you, his presence now more intimidating than ever “no. i am sick and tired of this bullshit. you hate me tha’ much? then why haven’t y’thrown this shi’ away?” he points to the box of things, making you bite down on ur lip “you want t’play that game? fine. y’re nothing but a liar” he hisses as you turn to him, in shock “i’m the liar?! me?! after all of the years you have lied to me about being the prowler?!”
hobie lets out a low chuckle as he moves away from you “you still hung up on that, huh?” “still hung… hobie, the main reason of our breakup was the fact that you lied to me! you led me to not be able to trust you, do you even hear yourself?!” hobie’s hand grips at the table, the veins on his arms pulsating. “i did that to fucking protect you! y’think i liked leaving secretly every night to patrol the streets just so i make sure y’re safe?! no! but i did it anyway. fuck…”
you blink at him in bewilderment. your lips part, but no sound comes out of your mouth as your neck goes dry “you want to say y’hate me? fine. go right ahead. i can lie like tha’ too” you had never seen him so angry before. your hands tremble as you try to reach for him, not because you’re afraid, but because you don’t know what to say. “hobie..” you choke out his name.
you don’t even realise when hobie takes ahold of you, pushing you to a wall and kissing you like he’s starved, attacking your lips and biting them every chance he gets. you don’t take long to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in even more as your teeth clash together. his hands roam your body, fingers finding their way to the zipper of your jeans before he pulls them off. you break off the kiss, lips parted and face flushed with need as you follow suit and take off your top and unclasp your bra.
hobie watches you as you do so before scoffing “hate me but are quick t’get undressed the moment i get handsy? fuck, this is such a joke” he grunts before picking you up with ease and throwing you on the bed, flipping you on your stomach and climbing on top. you’re so wet. you shouldn’t be this wet. anyone else would be absolutely terrified with the way hobie was acting. yet you knew him too well, you knew his frustration came from missing you so much, from you telling him that you hate him when you clearly didn’t.
his hands grab at your hips as your face gets pushed down into the mattress and you moan the second you feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy “hate me, yeah? you’re nothing but a needy slut, lookin’ fo’ attention” his hands travel to your breasts, pinching at your nipples. your body shudders at the feeling “p..please, hobie– “ “please? please what?” “i need you” “do ya’?” a low chuckle “ain’t that funny”
he moves one of his hands to you panties as he slowly drags them down to reveal the mess underneath. your arousal drips down your thigh “fuck me, y’re so fucking dirty. a dirty liar, that’s what y’are” hobie growls before inserting two fingers into your cunt. you grip at the sheets, a long moan dropping from your lips as you raise your ass up even more so he can go deeper. unfortunately for you, that doesn’t happen, as hobie’s fingers suddenly leave your pussy and he watches as your hole clenches around nothing, in desperation “she wants me so bad, doesn’t she?” he purrs as you whine.
with a tug at your shoulders he lifts your upped body up, making you turn around to face him “clean this shit off” he gestures before you obediently suck on his slicked fingers, looking up at him. hobie lets out a sharp breath as his dick strains against the fabric of his boxers “you hate me?” he asks when you’re done, before grabbing your jaw and pulling you closer “nah.. i hate you” and he turns you around, pushing your head back into the mattress as he slips his pants off.
soon enough he slams into you, fingernails digging into your hips as you moan in the fabric of your sheets “hob.. hobie.. ahh.. oh god!” you scream as you try to adjust to his size. it had been a long time since you had fucked him and taking him all at once was a bit hard to do. but you were so aroused you couldn’t think straight, you wanted him to fuck you so bad it quite literally hurt “strugglin’ t’ take all of me in? missed this cock, did you, you slut? fuck.. i hate you” he mumbles as he goes faster, his lips stuttering at every stroke.
you soon become to fucked out to even think as hobie’s tip pressed against you g-spot just right. you move a hand between your legs, pressing two fingers to your clit as you try to get off, moaning into the sheets “look at you, tryin’ t’get off like a little slut. wann’cum that bad?” you whine as your digits drag over your puffy clit, your insides being absolutely destroyed with hobie’s pace and the way his piercing’s rubbed against your gummy walls.
“it’s too much, hobie… please” you manage to get out as he lets out a low chuckle “you’re begin’ me now? y’can take it” and you realise he’s right, that it would’ve been so much more painful for him to pull out at that moment and leave you there, hot and bothered, unable to pleasure yourself the way he did. and you knew the reason that hobie didn’t pull a stunt like that was because he was close, maintaining his pace as he starts to fuck up his words.
“such a.. f..fuck… such a dirty whore.. i hate you.. mhm.. i hate you so much” he groans as he throws his head back, adam’s apple bobbing up and down “say you hate me” hobie says as he slaps your ass, the sharp sting making you whine “i… i hate you” another slap “say it properly” “i ha… oh god, hobie!” you scream as you feel yourself come closer to orgasming. another slap “properly” tears stream down your eyes as, with a final rub to your clit you cum all over his cock, ruining your sheets.
hobie looks down at you as you drop limp on the bed, panting and too fucked out to utter proper words. he watches as your mouth opens but no words come out and he smirks “pathetic, ain’t ya’?” you bite your lip as you close your eyes, the words finally escaping your swollen lips “i love you” and hobie’s eyes widen, his pupils dilate and his heart thumps against his chest. you raise yourself, propping your upper body on your palms as you push your ass back, fucking yourself into his cock. the action catches him off guard, making him let out a guttural grunt of pleasure.
“want you to cum in me” you look back at him, begging him to keep fucking you. it doesn’t take long for hobie to comply to your demands, this time, staying silent. you try not to think of the nature of his silence and the reasons for it as his hips snap into yours. his strokes quickly become uneven and hobie parts his lips, staggered breaths coming out from between them.
“shit..” hobie moans as he grips your hips again, body shuddering all over as he shoots his cum inside of you, watching it drip from your pussy as he pulls out. you turn your whole body around, your back pressed against the bed as you caress his cheek with one hand. his eyes close slowly while you caress his cheekbone “i’m sorry” you whisper as his eyes open again, deep dark eyes staring into yours. and suddenly, his whole expression goes all soft, eyes closing again “so am i”
“i love you, hobie” you repeat your former affirmation as he caresses your waist and pulls a blanket on top of you. his lips find their way to your forehead, applying three gentle kisses “i love you too”
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© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.
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wheatnoodle · 1 year
Text
robin is using everything in her power to find steve a boyfriend. now that she had finally gotten her head out of her ass to see that nancy didn’t find her rambling annoying, but charming and that got comfy in their new relationship, she wanted nothing more than the same for her best friend.
for too long, robin has stood back and watched as steve got used and played again and again. too many men and women coming around and flashing him pretty smiles and saying all the right things just to take him on a date, get him to drop his pants, and then he’d never hear from them again. she sees the way it effects him, the way he seems to be deteriorating right before her eyes.
he’s given up flirting with the babes that walk in the front door of their job, choosing to stay behind the counter. he leans on his fist, flips through a magazine and only glances up to say hello.
unless, of course, that customer is eddie munson. eddie, who will come in so quiet and lean down in steve’s space to break him from his trance. and steve will smile. and he’ll blush. and he’ll giggle and look away so eddie can’t see how flustered he is. and he waves the late fees every time. and she continues to watch.
robin is using everything in her power to get steve eddie as a boyfriend. sweet eddie who holds the door for steve and makes him smile brighter than robin has ever seen.
and it’s this reason that she was able to convince steve to join her and nancy at a bar in indy and invite eddie along so he “doesn’t third wheel”. meaning it’s also this reason she’s currently tearing apart steve’s closet for the perfect “date me!” outfit. because if he pulls up to this place in a polo and robin’s the one who brought him? she could never go back.
“robs, i can’t wear these.” steve is bright red in the face as he looks over his shoulder in the mirror. she got him in the tightest jeans he owns, the denim light and hugging every single curve from the waist down. he’s lucky he can even breathe in them. he hates how his butt is on display and there’s no room in his crotch to move comfortably and what if his knees get cold where they’re exposed to the outside elements?
“you absolutely can and you absolutely will. turn around and let me pretend you’re a girl so i can drool over your ass,” robin whistles from her place on his bed. she’s surrounded by piles of clothes, a multicolored avalanche of preppy and she just might go insane. “now you need a shirt.”
“i don’t get why you’re putting in all this effort. i’m just gonna embarrass myself in front of him. especially if i try to make a move,” steve grumbles and tugs his current sweatshirt over his head. robin’s got a pair of scissors from his bedside drawer and a clearly well-loved pink floyd t-shirt in hand. “what are you doing?”
“how much do you love this shirt?”
“robin don’t you-“
“how much, steven.” her gaze is firm and he knows it best to just give in. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a huff and robin smiles back at him in victory. he’s turned back to the mirror, listening to the sound of slicing fabric behind him.
she tosses it to him once she’s done and he pulls it over his head. dear god his waist is on display. and the trail of hair down to- oh this is humiliating. “robin.”
“steve!” she squeals, clapping her hands together.
“robin,” he whines, throwing his head back and tugging at the jagged edge of the shirt.
“steve!” she answers in the same tone with a bright smile. “you’re so hot! eddie is going to eat you up and if he doesn’t, then somebody else absolutely will.”
“you think so?” steve looks at her through the mirror. a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips and she can’t help but smile back, full of love and warmth.
“i know so.”
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gi4hao · 9 days
Text
☆ in which a bag of groceries make seungkwan measure the extent of your love
☆ seungkwan x gn!reader — cw: food, seungkwan’s tits are out (._.)
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there’s a tension growing in your upper back from carrying so many grocery bags on your own. giving yourself a quick shoulder rub, you make your way to your bedroom whose door is still shut.
carefully opening it, you’re relieved to see it’s still pitch black inside; you’ve apparently been quiet enough not to wake seungkwan up. or at least you have been until now:
“hey sunshine”, his drowsy voice greets you from the bed. in the dark, you can barely make out his arms stretching over his head. “where were you? what time is it?”
he leans to the side to turn on your bedside lamp; the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes make your heart swoon just a little.
“10 am. i went grocery shopping, figured the supermarket would be less crowded in the morning”, you reply, sitting next to him.
and you were right, there was practically no one in the aisles today; which was more than welcome considering you had to buy enough groceries to feed all twelve members’ stomachs tonight.
“you should have woken me up!” seungkwan protests, but the way his eyes are still struggling with adjusting to the light proves how much he needed to sleep in. “…did you find everything you wanted?” he asks, lifting one end of the covers to invite you in.
you nod as you happily snuggle against his bare chest, something that might be due to the fact that most of his comfy t-shirts are hidden away on your side of the closet.
“i bought some peanut butter for the cookies, of course i’ll also make regular ones for vernon”, you start explaining, trying to remember the items in your bags: “some paper towels too. i also got some mangos to make those smoothies cheol told me about. oh and i found jun’s shampoo! the one that was sold out everywhere! he asked for two bottles just in case.”
cheek pressed against his skin, you can’t really see his smile growing a bit more with every sentence. but something about the way his fingers start to gently rub your scalp lets you know how grateful he’s feeling.
because not only have you made active efforts to remember these little details about the people he loves, you’ve made them happily and willingly. as if loving him and loving the people he cares about naturally came hand in hand to you.
“i think it’s about time i start gatekeeping you”, he eventually blurts out, bringing the covers up to your nose. “i’ll call the guys, tell them tonight is cancelled. i’m never letting you out in the world again.”
a bashful smile tugging on your lips, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him: “you can’t do that. you love showing me off too much. besides, we can’t rob the world of our insane chemistry.”
your words draw a chuckle out of him, because not even him and his usual wittiness can’t deny what you just said.
“i love you”, he simply replies, his fingertips lightly scratching the back of your neck.
you’ve been hearing these three words on a regular basis for the past couple of years, yet you’re still unable to suppress the giddiness in your eyes.
“i’m glad you do… because i paid the groceries with your credit card”, you reply teasingly, but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds before you add a sincere: “i love you too.”
basking in the intimacy of your old lamp’s yellowish hues, he leans forward to leave a delicate kiss on your lips, your breaths intertwining as his hand lays a bit flatter on your neck.
his smile echoes on your face when you finally break the kiss, as you watch him readjust his position to rest more comfortably on the pillow.
“you know, i might not actually gatekeep you forever… but i’m gonna borrow your freedom for one more hour”, he says, arms keeping you close to him, “i’m not ready to start the day yet.”
and for the next hour, neither of you can find their way back to sleep. instead, the room fills with waves of mundane conversations, laughter and soft kisses, reflecting the simple happiness of knowing you found the right person to spend a lifetime of mornings with.
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one-piece-aus · 7 months
Note
Can I request Whumptober No.13 for Yan Rob Lucci or Yan Kaku?
Sure thing! ^-^
Whumptober Day 13
Yandere Lucci x Reader
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"Hello there," you greeted a little white pigeon wearing a red tie. "Aren't you cute."
"Thank you."
You jumped, startled, and surprise clouded your face. "You can talk?"
"Yes, but don't tell anyone, okay?" The pigeon held up his wing as if they were hands forming the shush sign.
"Ohhhhh okay," you nodded. In awe and fascinated by this talking bird, you didn't pay attention to the noises next door. 
For hours you asked the bird questions until it announced it had to leave. Sad to see it fly away, you waved goodbye until it flew out of sight. You'd never see it.
At least, that's what was supposed to happen.
A month later the pigeon came back, and your excitement skyrocketed. You were beginning to believe the talking bird with a tie was all a dream you had, you were happy to know the bird's real. You asked more questions but then you asked one you should've asked sooner.
"Do you have a name?"
"I do, forgive me for not introducing myself," the pigeon apologized and bowed. "I'm Hattori."
"Hattori, huh." You petted his little head. "Do you have an owner?"
"Mhm, but he's... busy right now, so I came here out of boredom."
You giggled, "I hope I don't get in trouble for keeping you away from him."
"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Hattori leaned into your hand. "I think he'd like you."
"You think so?" You mused before going into the kitchen to get Hattori a snack.
Little did you know, his owner was standing under your balcony, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.
Like clockwork, you saw Hattori once a week now. You invited him inside a few times, but he declined, saying he preferred being outside with fresh air. At least, that was before tonight.
"[Y/n], it's cold outside, can I fly in?" Hattori shivered with his wings wrapped around him.
"Of course." You stepped to the side and let the poor bird into your home, forgetting about your glass of water on the counter. "Here let me get you a blanket."
You left the balcony door open and headed to the hallway closet, taking out the handstitched blanket you made for the bird you had created in your spare time. When reached, Hattori was perched on the counter beside your drink.
"Here," You laid the tiny thing around the bird. "You should feel better now. Oh, I almost forgot about my drink." You picked up the glass, sipping the contents. "What kind of owner leaves his pet out in the cold of night? Actually..." You placed the drink down and held your head. "I don't feel so good."
The counters became sideways and the ground came up to slam into you. Hattori flew up from the counter, you didn't quite see where he went. The last thing you saw was dress shoes approaching you.
Tag: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar
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estrellami-1 · 6 months
Text
If I Should Stay
This one is on time! Woohoo! 😂
Part 1 | . . . | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29
Eddie leaves eventually, Steve seeing him out. He jumps when he turns around and sees Alli standing there, smirk on her face, arms crossed. “Geez, Alli,” he laughs, “gonna have to put a bell on you.”
“Don’t deflect,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“You haven’t actually said anything yet,” he responds, and she gives him a look that screams, do I really need to?
After a few seconds of thought, he shrugs. “Fair enough. We’re waiting, for now.”
“For what?”
“The end of the end of the world.”
“Christ,” she laughs, moving to ruffle his hair, “you’re dramatic.” She inclines her head towards the kitchen. “Hot chocolate?”
He smiles and nods. “Haven’t had a cup as good as yours in thirteen years, Al, think I’m about due.”
She gives him a sad sort of smile and ruffles his hair again. “Then I’ll just have to make this the best cup ever, to make up for all those, huh?”
“When’s the last time you saw me?” He asks suddenly, watching as she stirs the milk on the stove, adding a bit of cinnamon.
She frowns over at him. “This morning, before I left. Why?”
He shrugs. “Just wondering. Who’d you hang out with?”
A blush colors her cheeks. “Cassidy.”
“Oh,” he says, and grins at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“It’s going well?”
“It’s going so well, bubba, I love her,” she breathes.
He grins and hands her the cocoa. “Yeah?”
“God, so much, we’re talking about finding a place and moving in together, and I can’t wait.”
“How long have you been together?”
“About a year and a half. It’s hard, y’know? You don’t know who’s safe and who isn’t.”
Steve hums. “I know.”
“But it’s going… really well, God, and now that you know, everyone important knows.”
Steve grins. “Mom and Dad?”
Alli laughs. “Never. A few other friends, a few of her friends, though we’re mostly all friends. She’s got a little brother too, a little younger than you, and he knows too.”
He narrows his eyes at her. He remembers Cassidy’s younger brother. “How old do you think I am?”
She gives him a shit-eating grin before shrugging. “I dunno, like, eight?”
“Asshole,” he says, but he’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and he’s happy.
The night doesn’t last forever, though; soon enough their mugs are drained and they’re both yawning, and they promise to catch up tomorrow over coffee before Steve has school and Alli has work.
That plan is derailed when Alli shakes Steve awake twenty minutes before he has to leave. “Shit,” he curses groggily, throwing open his closet doors and jumping out of his sleep pants at the same time. He settles on a polo and jeans before rushing over to his phone to call Robin, who answers just as groggily as he’d been.
“‘Lo?”
“Robs,” Steve says urgently, “school. Imma be there in fifteen.”
“Shit!” She screeches, and he hears her rush out of bed. “I owe you my life, I’ll get you a bagel, see you!”
With that, she ends the call and he chuckles as he rushes to the bathroom to try to tame his hair.
He squeezes Alli in passing before grabbing his car keys and rushing out the door, before just as quickly rushing in and grabbing his backpack. “Love you, bye!” She calls, but the door’s shut before he can answer.
Still, he calls a, “Love you!” Over his shoulder, in the off chance she hears it, before making his way to Robin’s house.
She throws open her door and runs to his car when he pulls up, waving to her mom, who appears in the doorway, looking mystified.
“Steve,” she says as soon as she’s seated, “I owe you my life.”
Steve chuckles and takes his bagel from her. “Yeah, you said that earlier. I honestly was calling just to see if I was gonna drive you or not.”
Robin snorts. “If you think I’d willingly put myself through the mortifying ordeal of riding the bus ever again, you clearly don’t know me as well as we thought.”
Steve chuckles. “I figured as much,” he agrees. “Then as it turns out you were still asleep, so the answer was pretty obvious. Forget to set your alarm?”
She groans and throws her head back. “Yes. I’m not used to being in school.”
Steve nods. “Same here, Alli woke me up twenty minutes before I had to leave.”
Robin smiles. “She seems cool.”
“Alli? She is. She’s the coolest, honestly, she was super cool when I told her about Eddie. Oh!” He says suddenly, flapping a hand her direction. “Eddie!”
Her brows fly into her hairline. “Eddie?”
“He stayed last night,” Steve starts. “Well, stayed later, anyways. We went out onto my roof and smoked a joint together and just… started talking, y’know? And, uh.” He can feel his cheeks turn scarlet. “We decided to wait until after the end of the world. But we do wanna try.” He bites his lip and says, quieter, wondering, “He thinks I’m worth waiting for. Working for. He’s gonna try, after you and I are back in our present.”
“Steve,” Robin whispers, staring at him. “That’s great, I’m so happy for you.”
He smiles shyly. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I’m hopeful, y’know?”
“Yeah,” she whispers back, and he knows she does actually understand.
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madnessreruns · 1 year
Note
Would it be possible to request headcanons for arkhamverse selina, Ivy and Harley falling for Bruce Wayne’s sister :)
Arkhamverse Girls x Fem! Reader being Bruce Wayne’s sister
Harley Quinn x reader, Pamela Isley x Reader, and Selina Kyle x Reader - All Seperate
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Harley Quinn
Uh oh. Destruction time. I mean that can be said for any situation with Harley but especially now.
Expect lots of unexpected visits and party crashes from her, especially post! city. Sometimes she’ll just show up and be like hey ^•^!!!!
Since she’s, you know. A criminal. It’s kind of off putting how used to her you get after the first like, two break ins. You’ll stroll up to the manor and she kinda just pops out of no where. There’s always an extra plate made cause she’ll just walk in, say she loves you, eat your food, pet your animals, and leave. And you love her for it.
Every now and then there’s a routinely kidnapping. Cause you know. Crime. She doesn’t hurt you or anything, she just kinda hangs around, maybe gets you dinner. You know, the works.
She’ll definitely get on the other rogues when they target you. But it’s completely fine when she robs your place of work, with sparkly little eyes beaming when she sees you. She claims it was 100% a coincidence, but her goofy grin as giggles give her planning away.
There will times where people are like “S/O!!! Why are you spending time!!! With a well known criminal!!!” And your just like. “Criminal? No this is my baby. Her name is Harley. She’s never done anything wrong in her life.” And their like “S/O she’s covered in blood”. “So what?”
She’s also the equivalent of those small little mean dogs. You know the stereotypical little chihuahua. Little mean little bitch. She’s not a little bitch, she can be a bit mean to others though. She doesn’t mean it, she just doesn’t like it when people are being rude about you. You tell her she can’t shoot people cause they don’t like you. She begs to differ.
She’ll hang out with you before any of your public outings. Putting makeup on before a gala? She brought the perfect lipstick for you!Yes what are you saying, she bought it 100% legally she doesn’t know what your talking about.. stealing???? Noo she could never. Just shut up and put it on.
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Pamela Isley
Angry >:(
She absolutely HATES your brother. She hate hate HATES HIM. The amount of harm his stupid company does to the environment is going to make her bite someone. Not you she promises. She fully acknowledges you have no say in the company and don’t even have any relations to the company. Except for your brother. She’s amazed that someone as beautiful and sweet as you can be related to someone so horrid and disgusting.
She’ll send you roses with little notes attached to it. Of course they aren’t poison. The ones she sent your brother though, she can’t say the same.
Again, lots of unexpected visits. But not to your house specifically, to your bedroom alone. You’ll walk back in and she’ll be sitting herself in front of your vanity mirror fixing her hair, or fumbling through your bookshelf, or trying on clothes from your closet and drawers. She’s always hard to say no to. She’s so nice and sweet to you, and she’s so gorgeous. You have trouble telling her to get out.
She’ll take you out to a very public places. She likes to flaunt the fact you spend time with her, and not anyone else. Her jealousy kicks to 900% very easily, especially when it’s a man trying to make advances on you.
She has a habit of leaving small marks on you, even if you don’t notice. Your lips are tinted green from her toxins, small hidden hickeys placed on your neck, flowers she grew decorating your dress, or braiding your hair with roses decorating it. Or maybe you smell particularly floral today. Must just be a new perfume hm?
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Selina Kyle
Okay so, she’s the one that most likely knows your brother’s identity. So it’s a bit embarrassing when she realizes that the sister of the man she was trying to court was 10% hotter then he was.
She actually doesn’t break into your house uninvited. She sits outside your window and asks very politely to come in, kinda like a vampire. But instead of biting you to drink your blood she bites you cause she’s weird like that.
She also has a habit of trying to steal something from your manor. You’ll catch her in the middle of the night in the middle of your house, you just tell her to take what she wants and leave. But when she says she wants you, you just roll your eyes and go back to bed. But you said she could have anything she wanted :(
Please take her to galas and events as your date. She’ll act like it’s nothing but inside she’s crying she so happy. She loves to be with you in public especially. She doesn’t know why, she just does.
Except many very legally obtained gifts. Ignore the height in robberies of jewelry stores, but enjoy this gorgeous necklace she found for you. I mean bought. She means she bought it. She bought it with money it was a legal transaction.
If you give her gifts back she will act like it’s nothing, she could just steal this easily. But it honestly means the world to her.
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dodger-chan · 4 months
Text
Look we all have to write the steddie flirting through DnD scene don't we?
Consider this a Christmas gift if you celebrate and something to do while everything's closed if you don't.
“How touchable are my boobs in this?”
“I think I’m falling in love with Eddie.” Steve replied. He had not meant to say that. He’d been helping Robin pick out clothes for her date with Vickie that night, and the thought had just hit him. Steve tried again. “Your boobs look great. Vickie will definitely want to slip her hands under that shirt.”
“Perfect.” Robin threw herself down on her bed next to Steve. “Let's go back a few seconds. Why do you think you’re falling for Eddie?”
“I stole one of Dustin’s old DnD manuals and I’ve been looking through it to figure out how their nerd game works. I bought my own copy of Sacred Heart. And I'm trying to read The Hobbit for the third time.”
He was forty-eight pages in, the farthest he’d made it yet. He might make it through the whole book this time, now that he’d decided he could skip the songs. 
“Oh, it’s like when you studied for the SATs with Nancy!”
“Even though I’d already taken the exam. Exactly.” Steve sighed. “It’s been going on for weeks. How did I not notice until now?”
“Because you’ve spent most of your life purposefully ignoring it when you liked a guy.” Robin ruffled his hair. “Hey, at least finding him hot isn’t news, right?”
“Yay for small victories, I guess.” Steve fixed the mess Robin had made. “But what do I do about it?”
----------
A part of Steve had wanted to show up in his rattiest t-shirt and jeans, to do his best to blend in with the rest of the club. But it wasn’t like the other guys didn’t know who he was. And Steve wanted to find out if Eddie might like him, not some nerd that looked like him. So Steve wore a polo shirt and his best jeans. The only way he could have looked less like he belonged was if he’d pulled his letterman out from the back of his closet.
“Are you playing with us Harrington?” Eddie asked when Steve sat down at the table.
“Um, is that okay? Bobbie had a thing come up and she asked me to sub in for her.” Robin’s thing had been a second date with Vickie. At his house, so the girls could kiss without worrying about getting caught. Steve needing to spend four hours in the Wheeler basement gave them plenty of alone time, too. “I might need some help with the math, but Robs gave me a character sheet and some basic instructions.”
Eddie and his friends exchanged looks. Steve really hoped they weren’t going to tell him to get lost.
“Steve? You’re playing?” Dustin practically threw himself down the stairs when he saw Steve. “How did we finally convince you? Was it Robin? Where is she?”
“Robin’s busy. I’m her sub. If Munson’s cool with it?”
Faced with Dustin’s pleading eyes, Eddie didn’t stand a chance.
----------
Steve mostly kept quiet at first, observing how Eddie ran the game, what strategies the kids preferred to use. Mostly he let them make the decisions and when they were in combat he hit the biggest enemy with his morningstar until it stopped moving.
It felt kind of familiar, but way less painful.
After a little while, Steve thought he had the hang of it enough to try Robin’s plan.
“Wait a second,” he stopped Mike before they attacked the mysterious cloaked figure. “Isn’t everybody’s health kind of low?”
“We don’t have time to rest and heal, Steve.” Mike was being weirdly patient with him. “The enemy has already seen us.”
“Yeah, but I could try charming him instead of fighting. Robin said her character was supposed to be charming.” She’d had this long explanation about charisma that Steve hadn’t followed but she’d summed it up as flirt with the NPCs. “If I flirt with him, maybe he’ll let us by without a fight.”
“He’s a guy, Steve,” Dustin pointed out. “Robin’s character is also a guy.”
“Gay people exist.” One of the older Hellfire members, Steve thought his name was Gareth, spoke up. He hadn’t expected any of Eddie’s friends to help him out with this. The three of them had their eyes on Eddie.
Eddie wasn’t saying anything.
“He’s seduced at least one girl in every town we’ve passed through,” Lucas explained. “Usually two or three.”
“It’s kind of a running joke,” Will added.
“He could like both.” Steve said it with a casualness he did not feel. “Some people do.”
“Buckley’s not going to be upset you made her character a little gay?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, she won’t mind.”
“Then roll for seduction.”
Right as he rolled, another of Eddie’s friends - Steve had missed his name during introductions - bumped into the table. The dice fell onto the floor and one rolled under the sofa.
This was apparently a catastrophe.
“We won’t be able to get the die without moving it! We’ll never know what you rolled!” Dustin whined.
“Couldn’t I just roll it again?” This was, for some reason, the worst question he could have asked, as it sparked a lecture on the sacred and inviolable nature of the dice rolls.
“Have him role play it,” Jeff suggested. Eddie shot his friend a dirty look.
Steve briefly wondered if Robin had been talking with the older members of Hellfire, but that didn’t seem likely. They wouldn’t have any reason to help him out. 
“I don’t mind.”
“If that’s what you want.” Eddie shrugged. “Show us you can be as charming as your character.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m exactly as charming as Sir Dingus des Cheveux.” Steve wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or disturbed by how much Robin’s character was based on him. Though it certainly made playing him easier. “Tell me what I see.”
“I already did. Cloaked figure, no obvious weapon.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’d notice if I was looking for a fight. Can I see his hair? His face? His eyes?”
“Um, his hood is up, so no.” Right. Eddie was going to make this difficult.
“Okay so I step forward and I stand, uh, shit. It’s hard to describe.” Steve could be just as difficult. “Can we act it out?”
“Act it out?”
“I mean the NPCs are all you, right? So if you could stand in for this guy?” A lot of flirting was physical and, for Steve, automatic. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing until he was doing it. 
“Do it, Eddie.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve always wanted to see The Hair at work.”
Eddie’s friends egged him on. Lucas nodded along with them. Dustin had grabbed a blank sheet of paper and seemed prepared to take notes. Will seemed somewhere between uncomfortable and fascinated. Only Mike looked unhappy about it, but that was just how Mike was. 
Date a guy’s sister for a year and not even saving his life could make him smile at you.
Eddie rose from his seat.
“Okay, Harrington. Charm me.”
Steve stepped forward, until he was almost close enough to touch Eddie.
“Hi,” he said, tilting his head to one side. He smiled a slightly goofy smile that he knew invited teasing. “What’s a nice boy like you doing in a dungeon like this?”
Eddie burst out laughing.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re starting with?”
“Is that you or the character laughing?” Steve asked.
“Both.”
“You have a beautiful laugh.” Steve spoke in character. Eddie stopped laughing, surprised. “I bet your face is just as lovely.”
“He pushes his hood back to reveal the face of a drow. The face is not lovely, but scarred. One particularly nasty scar on his right cheek creates the illusion of a smile. He says, You lose.”
“I don't know about that.” Steve stepped a little closer and lifted his hand. “May I?”
Eddie nodded.
Steve pushed Eddie's hair away from his face, lightly brushing Eddie's scars. Taking care that the back of his thumb caressed the most prominent one, the one that tugged down the corner of Eddie's lip and gave his smile a permanent look of irony.
“You have the most expressive eyes I've ever seen,” Steve murmured. Eddie pulled back.
Shit. That wasn't in character. Steve tried again.
“I think I won, but I wouldn’t want to contradict anyone with such enchanting eyes.” He dropped the smile but kept the teasing tone. “What do I lose?”
“Your life,” Eddie replied, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.
“You don't want to kill me.” Steve’s smile widened. He'd won this round as soon as Eddie had laughed. “If you’re having trouble thinking up a forfeit, can I suggest a kiss?”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie said with another laugh. “You have successfully seduced the drow. He does not attack your party, or summon reinforcements. Your one night stand allows for a long rest. Because the drow is a cleric of Loviatar, you only recover half your health.”
“Worth it.” He winked at Eddie before sitting back down at the table. “Sir Dingus had an excellent time. Is there a fantasy version of asking for a guy’s number? In case I have to sub in for Rob again?”
He didn’t want to saddle Robin’s character with a boyfriend when Robin had been using him to flirt with girls, but he didn’t want to leave Eddie with the impression that Steve moved on from people as quickly as Sir Dingus did.
“The life of an adventurer is hardly conducive to long term relationships.” That did not answer Steve’s question. “But, he tells you his name is Ghauntel Kenduis and should he see you again, he will remember yours.”
--------
Dungeons and Dragons was not the worst way to spend an afternoon. The combat was kind of boring, and the bickering over what the party was going to do next made Steve sympathize with the guys who’d stuffed nerds into lockers. 
Okay, DnD was not his thing at all and the only thing he really enjoyed about it was getting to flirt with Eddie.
Steve slid his hand over the scars on Eddie's neck. Slowly, carefully, he brought their lips together for a kiss.
Well, Eddie’s characters, which wasn’t exactly the same thing. And after that first time, he hadn’t had to do nearly as much roleplaying. But it was still fun.
“You kept breaking character,” Eddie commented when the game was finished for the day. 
“What do you mean?” The kids had, unsurprisingly, vanished upstairs as soon as it was time to clean up. A little more surprising was that the rest of Hellfire had also cleared out, leaving Steve and Eddie alone.
“When you would flirt. You kept losing the characters. You’ve never played before, so flirting with me instead of my NPCs would be an easy mistake to make. Or…” Eddie trailed off. “Nah, you’re just bad at the game.”
“I mean, I am. And breaking character wasn’t something I tried to do on purpose.” Steve stepped close to Eddie again. Close enough to reach out and touch him. “But I kept doing it because I wanted to flirt with you.”
“Why?” Eddie asked. “I'm a freak and kind of an asshole a lot of the time. And I’m not exactly a pretty face these days.”
“Well, it turns out that weird and passionate nerds are kinda my type.” And Steve was sick of dating girls who weren't his type. “May I?”
Wordlessly, Eddie nodded.
Again, Steve pushed Eddie's hair back, tucking it behind his ear. Eddie leaned into Steve's touch.
“You really do have the most expressive eyes. I wish you didn't feel like you have to hide them.” 
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bettysupremacy · 10 months
Note
omg what abt steve getting a crush on this more rebel, punk-like reader? usually sees her with a guitar or smoking out back somewhere, but he’s worried that he’s not “cool enough” to talk to her
maybe she comes in at the family video to rent a horror movie or something and he finally tries to start a conversation
ajdkdk sorry hope this isn’t too specific, have a great day!!!
hi aster!! thank you for the request it’s adorbs
Robin sits under the counter of family video sorting return movies into boxes.
It’s a perfectly tedious task that she doesn’t mind doing. In fact, she usually fights for it, leaving Steve to take her assortments and shelve them. Except today he forfeits his duties, opting to stand and complain. Loudly.
It’s not that Robins over it, but she’s over it.
“You don’t get it, Robs.” Steve eyes the front door morosely. “She’s so cool. She plays guitar.”
Robin laughs loudly, pulling Gremlins out of the kids box and into the horror box. “So do like, a gillion people, Steve.”
“But she’s good at at.”
Robin shrugs. He got her there.
“And she likes that one band.”
She nods. “Thank you for that.”
“You know which one I’m talking about.”
“Because you gave me so much to work with.”
He glares down, but she doesn’t see. “Long hair?”
“Kiss?”
“Long hair, no face paint.” He adds.
“Iron Maiden? Van Halen? Dokken? Metallica?”
“Metallica!” He nudges her with his foot excitedly.
“Well she likes all those bands.” She shrugs, kicking the loaded romance box away.
His head shakes. “Eddie got his grubby little hands on her.”
“Eddie is her brother, and liking the same bands as your sibling is normal.”
“Still.” He sighs.
His inability to talk to you haunts him. A painful reminder that he’s no longer king Steve.
The door chimes.
“Who is it?” Robin asks.
Steve kicks her, she punches him.
You walk in, destination in mind. He watches silently as you move to the horror section, smiling as he sees you mouth your ABC’s to find Friday the 13th.
You look exceptionally pretty today, he thinks. Black band tee, black skirt, black headband, you look like you’ve shopped in Eddie’s closet. Not that he’s complaining.
You hop up to the counter.
“That was quick.” Steve smiles as he scans the bar code with the little red light. He drops it to the counter when it beeps, typing into the new computer Keith ordered a week ago. “Friday the 13th?”
“Uh huh.” You smile. His knees buckle.
“It’s a great movie, you’ll love it.”
“I don’t know,” Your finger traces the wood countertop. “I’m easily spooked.”
He looks away from the computer, waiting for the receipt to print. “You watching it alone?”
“No,” You laugh. “Definitely not.”
“Oh,” He deflates. “With you’re boyfriend?”
Robin pinches his calf, he resists the urge to kick her again.
You laugh a little louder, a little sweeter. Steve finds the contrast of your look and the sound dizzying. “No, Steve, my brother.”
“Right.” His soft laugh is an air of relief. You roll your eyes, smile plastered onto your face you fear permanently.
“Yeah, Ed’s really tears up these horrors.”
“You look like you would too.” He puts the receipt in your bag. Dropping it to the counter with a soft thud.
“What does that mean?” Your head cocks.
“No I just.. you know- like..”
You laugh, and even though it’s at Steve’s expense, he hopes it’ll happen again. “I was kidding, Steve.”
“Oh,” he breathes, smile playing on his lips. He looks down at the counter. “That was mean.”
Your eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry”
“You don’t look too sorry.” He laughs, a little breathless.
“What can I do to apologize?”
His smile stutters. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
You look around the store and his mind wanders places he feels guilty for. “You wanna come watch it with us?”
You kick the wall softly, nervously. Robin can feel it.
“What?” This isn’t real.
“Yeah, come over tonight. We make popcorn, and he’s buying candy right now.” You search for his eyes now. “Please say yes it’s the least I could do for being so mean.”
“I don’t know.” He hands brace against the wooden counters, a gentle reminder that this is real. Like Robins pinch. “..Eddie would be okay with it?”
“You’re already friends with him, it’ll be perfect.” You grab your bag from the counter, the plastic loud as you wind it around your hand. “And then I’ll have someone to protect me.”
He hears Robin breathe out and dares a look under the counter. She’s grinning like a madman.
You don’t give him room to object, walking to the door and turning around when you hear the chime. “See you tonight. Bye Robin!”
Faint giggles are heard under the counter. Steve feels sick.
And then you walk out. Steve’s heart dragged along behind you.
Robin hops out of the counter. “You got a date, Steve!”
His shoulders droop. “With Eddie.”
“So what?” She claps his back “I doubt he’ll actually be there.”
“Yeah.” He breathes, “It’ll be fine.”
Robin nods once, walking into the back room. “And I’ve finished sorting. Have fun!”
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 2 months
Text
How Tim Drake stole the show and lost millions for a good cause....... aka getting laid
Part 2
Kon didn't really expect this, to feel so powerful he's fucking Superboy after all but being with Tim watching the envy and just the pure power his boyfriend walks with it's hot and addictive.
The entire gala is practically watching. Tim's arm which is decorated by a Rolex that they picked up today which cost more than Kon has ever seen. It feels good like he deserves it and for now he feels like kryptonite couldn't even touch him.
"How you feeling baby, you look a little flustered." Tim's whispers in his ear voice dripping with sex.
"I'm good but I have to ask is this like you, I don't know how to explain but is this a show?" He feels a little ashamed asking like he is questioning how much Tim loves him but this doesn't seem like Rob.
"Kon, everytime I see you it takes every bit of training I have from bending you over. Right now I want to show all of Gotham who you belong to." He looks straight into his eyes licking his lips.
"I was a Drake before a Wayne this will always be where I belong I want you to know every bit of me. I don't know the cost of a bannana but I know that the woman standing across from us is wearing ten thousand dollar heels that are out of season. This is me and I'm proud of who I am, who you are." He can't help the smile that slips onto his face.
"I didn't mean anything by that I just needed to know this feels like a dream I feel like a queen and I just I love you sunshine I just needed to know." He shoots forward kissing Tim falling into his arms were he belongs.
It's feels like it last forever and not enough when Tim pulls away.
"Now as much as this is my gala and I would love to pull you into a closet and have my way with you My Air we need to go greet Bruce and my siblings so let's go."
Tim directs him over to where the entire batfamily stands looking like gods who are being disturbed by the lesser he especially sees Batman looking him up and down with what seems like disgust.
He wants to hide but he remembers he's on Tim's arm and nothing can happen to him when he's with Tim.
"It's amazing gala don't you think Bruce I decided to come a bit later than expected I was distracted had to pick a couple things up." Tim's voice drips with something he can't name.
He sees Jason and Damian also looking at him something in their eyes that makes Kon want to cry beg for his place as if they are kings and he's just the pathetic peasant asking for scraps. It sends a rush of anger and he does something that he hopes doesn't cause Sunshine to kill him.
"Daddy, You think we could go grab something I'm starving, we barley ate this morning you wouldn't let me out of bed." Giggling as he kisses the side of Tim's neck.
He looks straight at Bruce his face frozen the other bats not much better but Rob catches his attention eyes burning his voice comes out commanding.
"Of course Bruce I have more important matters to attend to good night see you at home." The arm that he somehow forgot for a moment wraps tightly around him leading over to the food and far away from judgemently Bats who seem to hate him.
-
Bruce thinks he should have just never gotten up today not only is his child causing him a migraine. He just heard said sons boyfriend call him a word that he can never hear again. Nevermind the recount of a sex act that he wishes he could bleach from his brain. Luckily his second oldest is always willing to distract him in his own twisted way.
"Am I the only one who feels like they are missing something, I know I tend to piss of Baby Bird but he seemed more high strung than usual." Jason mutters eyes calculating.
Dick doesn't hesitant to also insert himself of course giggling like a school girl.
"Oh you sweet summer children you at a Gala with Tim Drake and I love my baby brother but he's much like his name sake. He has a fair maiden and a love of precious gems this is Tim." Tone changing to an almost growl.
"You all looked at Kon like he wasn't worth anything and to Tim that's the one thing he loves more than anything you pissed off the dragon now I will be going to make my amends for not being more welcoming have fun." He throws over his shoulder making a beeline to Tim.
Bruce really wants a god damn drink.
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rogueddie · 10 months
Text
Fool / Go For It
Eddie is playful, teasing, with all of his friends. It's how he shows affection- with light nudges, light ribbing... it's all done in good faith.
A lot of the teasing he aims at Steve, however, have a sting to them. He cracks a lot of jokes about 'King Steve', about his old friends and his families wealth- all sore spots for Steve.
They don't feel like jokes, even though Steve knows that's all they are.
"I can't just tell him," Steve insists as he, once again, complains about Eddies teasing.
"Yes, you can," Robin says. Her voice is monotone, having repeated her arguments so many times that it's exhausting. "He's your boyfriend. He likes you. If he's upsetting you, he'll want to know."
"But you tease me like he does! All the time!"
"That's different. We're, like, soulmates."
"Rob," Steve groans, flopping his head down so his face is pressed into her bed sheets. His voice is muffled when he continues; "I don't want him to feel like he's second best."
"Steve, for Christs sake, he won't think that! And if he does, he's an idiot."
Lifting his head, he gives her his best puppy-dog eyes. "I can't risk that. I think I might be in love with him."
"That's just more reason to tell him."
He groans, dropping his head again. He always forgets how immune she is to his pleading looks.
"We're seeing him soon," she continues, ignoring his muffled complaints. "You'll tell him then, or I will. And I won't be nice about it, either."
Steve only groans in complaint.
"Come on, dingus," she teases, lightly slapping his shoulder. "You can help me pick out an outfit."
"You never take my advice," he reminds her, getting up to follow her to the closet anyway.
It's almost a routine for them, at this point; she'll pick an outfit, Steve will point out the things wrong with it and, when he makes his own suggestion, she'll point out how horrible his idea would look on her.
Both understand what the other is actually saying- Robin does end up trading the vest that she originally picked out for her black denim jacket, like Steve suggested.
"See?" Steve teases, bumping his shoulder into hers as they head out.
"It's ok, I guess," she ribs back. "You've had worse ideas."
"Ha," he deadpans.
Robin is practically giddy as she climbs in the car. She glances at him, pointedly, when he turns the music up as soon as she says Eddies name. She doesn't fight him on it though.
She knows him well enough, instinctively, to know that he needs the time to himself.
When they pull up, he flings the door open as soon as he can, so she's interrupted when-
"Steve!" Eddie yells in greeting. He jumps up, speedwalking to meet them half way. "You made it!"
"I said we would," Steve grins. The amount of affection they can show, in the schools parking lot, is limited- but Steve can't help but pull Eddie in for a hug. "I always keep my word."
"Unless it's about the pool," Eddie teases, patting his side before turning to his friends.
"Right," Steve forces a laugh.
He hadn't realized that Eddie would remember that- it was so long ago and probably the longest conversation they'd had, pre-Upside Down.
Steve hadn't thought it'd been that bad. He'd actually been trying to look out for Eddie, with how late in the night it was- he'd assumed that he'd been drinking, like everyone else, and going in the pool-
"Steve?" Robin asks, gently shaking him.
"Hm?"
"The pool?"
"Oh, long story. It's... it's an old story, too. It's nothing, really."
"Steve, if he-" Robin starts, hands jumping to her hips.
"Hey," Eddie calls. "Guys, come on, we're gonna set up!"
Steve takes the opportunity, jogging over. "How long does it take to set up?"
Eddie eagerly jumps into a long winded explination, which quickly devolves into explaining rules of the game- things Eddie has already told him, multiple times, but Steve loves how excited he gets.
They finish setting everything up by the time the kids start filtering in- and the door opening knocks Eddie out of his ramble about a certain NPC he's still figuring out.
"You understand any of that?" Grant raises an eyebrow at him.
It's softened with how gentle Eddie is when reaches out to hold his hand, just for a moment.
Mike snorts, loudly.
"Yeah, I did," Steve says.
"Of course you did," Eddie teases, ruffling his hair. "Such a clever big boy. Now!" Eddie claps his hands together, turning to the table.
"Say something," Robin hisses, leaning close.
"I'm trying to listen," Steve whispers back.
She grumbles, but sits back.
It's more fun that he thought it would be, watching the group of them play D&D. It's not as headache inducing as reading, but somehow more fascinating than simply watching a movie.
He groans, almost as loud as the kids, when Eddie announces that they're at a good point to stop for the day.
"That was great," Steve says, siddling up to the table, leaning against the throne Eddies sat on while they all pack up. "I'm starting to get you nerds are so obsessed with this shit."
"What, you wanna sit in on our next game?"
Eddie says it like it's absurd, like it's a joke, but Steve is serious when he replies; "if that's alright with you lot, I'd love to."
"Really?" Eddie leans back, fully turning to him.
Mike scoffs. "He just wants to impress you."
"It was interesting!" Steve defends.
"You probably didn't understand half of what was going on."
"I understand the story. That's, like, the most important part!"
"Of course it it," Eddie gently pats his shoulder. "And I'm sure it'd be fine with everyone here to have an audience, right?"
"Right," Jeff answers. He offers Steve a genuine, friendly, smile.
"On one condition," Robin pipes up. "No more jabs at Steve."
"We're just teasing," Dustin points out. "Steve knows that- don't you, Steve."
"Uh, yeah, I mean-"
"Steve-" Robin tries.
"You do know that we're just joking, right?" Eddie asks, worried. He steps close, hand resting on Steves hip so he can rub circles in his skin. "We don't think any less of you for not knowing D&D. It is just a game."
"Yeah, I know," Steve agrees easily. It's easy to forget why it's a problem when Eddie is being so careful, worried, and affectionate.
And he smiles so wide, almost blindingly. He kisses Steve on the cheek, despite the others complaints, and starts asking about what time is best for their next meeting.
Robin steps up beside him, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.
"What?"
"You're a fool."
244 notes · View notes
rxdidz · 8 months
Note
readers parents being really strict, but she NEEDS to go to her “best friend” robins bday so she helps her sneak out?
can i call you tonight? 💿˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
a/n : i love this song it’s been stuck in my head for idk how long
synopsis : reader has strict parents that won’t let her go out to her best friends (gf) bday, so she helps her sneak out.
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"mom, i need to go to her birthday. i told her i was coming.” you begged. “i don’t like that girl y/n. me and your dad agreed already that we don’t want you out with her.” your mother said from the kitchen.
you took a deep breath and persisted, "i know what you think about her, but she’s my best friend. not being there would make me a bad friend. there’s obviously gonna be no drinking because her parents are gonna be there.”
he sighed. “y/n we said no! what i say in this house goes.” your dad said in a frustrated tone. “dad, please, just listen—" you deserved to go. you had no bad grades, you helped with all the chores and you didn’t complain about anything.
“you’re not leaving this house, y/n! go to your room!" he raised his voice, pointing to the hallway. tears welled up in your eyes before turning away. shutting the door, not slamming it, because you knew that would result in more yelling even tho you really wanted to. you sat on the edge of your bed, a lump in your throat from trying not to cry. you picked up your phone, dialing your girlfriends number.
“hello?” she answered. “hi, it’s me.” you hesitated. “oh! hi! i miss you, when are you coming?” she perked up. you bit your lip, you really hated disappointing her. “.. my dad said no. im so sorry robin. i asked multiple times, i told him there wasn’t gonna be drinking, i cleaned the WHOLE house, i even asked before hand” your voice shook.
it was silent. “rob?”
she played with her telephone cord and smirked.
“wanna sneak out?”
you waited only 10 minutes for robin to pick you up at your window. you got your bag ready, and silently got your shoes on. you were filled with excitement but you had this feeling in the pit of your stomach that it would all go wrong. a muffled tap on your window made you jump, you pulled back the curtain and saw her there, grinning and waving. you smiled, opening the window.
“hi.” you whispered. “heyy.” she smiled, tippy toeing. she broke the silence “so what? are you ready?” she teased. “well duh. happy birthday.” you gave her a kiss before climbing out the window. you were full of anticipation, she grabbed your hand and you both sprinted to steve’s car, giggling.
“hi steve.” you smiled, out of breath. you hopped in the backseat, throwing your bag beside you. “hey.. hey, your parents aren’t gonna kill me if they catch you right?” he asked, looking into the rear view mirror and starting up the car.
“no, they definitely would.” you nodded. it was silent until robin laughed, causing you to laugh.
“see, we didn’t get caught.” robin playfully bumped into you. walking down the street, eating your ice cream that you got at the end of the night. you were both tired. steve offered to drive you home but you both wanted to be alone for a while.
“i never said we would!” you laughed, bumping back into her. you were so close to each other, you felt her hand brush yours on accident.
“mmm, you looked worried.” she shrugged. “maybe a little. but you distracted me from it.” you answered, slipping your hand into hers.
getting to your window, she let you use her hand to step up and climb in. you tried to be extremely quiet, taking your shoes and jacket off and then back to paying attention to her. “all good?” she asked. “yes.” you nodded. “i have one more gift for you tho.” you motioned for her to stay, walking to your closet.
“another one? for moi?” she gasped, getting on her tippy toes to try peek. “hey don’t peek.” you giggled, putting your hand to her face.
“okay. close your eyes and put your hands out.” she did as told, you pursed your lips and set the necklace in her hands. “okay open!” she opened them and a smile spread across her face. it was a silver heart.
“a necklace?” she looked up at you. “open it!” once she opened it, it had a little picture of you and her at an arcade, with a heart that had a ‘r + y/n’ in it.
she had to stop herself from jumping up and down with joy. she had the most lovey dovey expression on her face. “i love it. i love you.” she stared up at you and put the necklace on.
“i love you more.”
“can you tippy toe a little more?” you asked. “why?” she furrows her eyebrows. “just c’mon.” you whine.
she did as told and you leaned down a bit, cupping her face in your hands, you met her lips. it was a soft, sweet thing and she found yourself leaning into you more when you pulled away.
letting out a breath, she stopped getting onto her tippy toes and she grabbed your hand. “thank you, for the best birthday ever.”
“thank you for inviting me.” you say, before she kisses your hand goodbye.
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299 notes · View notes
unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
welcome to eden
this is a love letter. inspired by this song
As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.
“Rob?”
“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should. 
“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”
He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—
“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”
“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”
She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”
Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”
“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”
“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up. 
She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better. 
Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door. 
She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet. 
“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him. 
Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time. 
Just rip the bandaid off, Nance. 
“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”
“I can do that.”
The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window. 
They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows. 
She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—
“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”
“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out. 
“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”
“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”
She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently. 
“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“
“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”
She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”
“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“
“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”
That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”
She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that. 
“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”
He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”
“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”
He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”
“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet. 
“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”
“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”
She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”
“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him. 
They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer. 
“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer. 
“What do you mean?”
“What happens with us now?”
“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”
Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they. 
“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”
It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that. 
She just missed him. 
“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”
She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.” 
“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”
They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them. 
Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”
“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched. 
“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time. 
She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
She shakes his hand. 
Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows. 
Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later. 
Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better. 
She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way. 
Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance. 
Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out. 
With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her. 
He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”
Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”
She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place. 
“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding. 
Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him. 
Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands. 
“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”
“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”
“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”
“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”
“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”
His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say. 
“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“
“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”
“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”
“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”
“I will!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it. 
She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet. 
“Sorry.”
“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes. 
“Nancy, please.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”
“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers. 
“It’s not…”
“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”
She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more. 
“It’s not good enough.”
“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”
“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“
“Do you want fries?”
“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.  
“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie. 
“I usually just give up.”
“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”
At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again. 
After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test. 
Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing. 
“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”
“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears. 
It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P. 
She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this. 
She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true. 
“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”
She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”
“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”
“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”
“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”
It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth. 
“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”
It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore. 
“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”
“Steve is your best friend.”
“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”
“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward. 
“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”
She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before. 
After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair. 
Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor. 
She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable. 
She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”
The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.
In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.
This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?
She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes. 
Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye. 
“Your hands are shaking.”
“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.” 
She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”
“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes. 
“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”
“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”
“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”
“I know all that.”
“Do you?”
He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged. 
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”
She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye. 
So do her next five shots. 
Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before. 
She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”
He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings. 
“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”
“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees. 
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”
She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”
“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”
“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier. 
“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”
It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch. 
The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there. 
She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then. 
She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy. 
“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”
Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”
“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”
Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.
She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it. 
What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?
She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?
Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out. 
She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her. 
Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense. 
They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days. 
When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”
It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes. 
Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.
He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time. 
“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”
“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”
“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”
So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out. 
But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there. 
“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying. 
“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”
She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed. 
“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.
She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…
Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth. 
(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)
It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place. 
She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died. 
She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders. 
She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.
“Barb was my first kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”
She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back. 
“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“
 “Nancy…”
“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“
“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“
“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“
“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”
Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past. 
“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“
“Fuck that.”
“Robin…”
“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”
“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.
“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”
“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”
Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-
“What was he doing?”
“What?”
“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”
It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.
“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”
“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”
“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”
“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore. 
“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”
She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless. 
There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself. 
“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”
Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before. 
“I want this,” she insists. 
“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”
“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”
Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.
“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”
“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”
“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”
“There are male ladybugs.”
“Wait, seriously?”
She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”
“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax. 
“I’d vote for you.”
She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”
“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side. 
“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this. 
“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them. 
“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”
She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty. 
She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming. 
448 notes · View notes
oinkinpigprince · 5 days
Text
My friends(hostages) and I (tied them down and forced them to) watched the Texas chainsaw massacre one and two(I held them at gun point and kept wiggling happily) and I had silly little thoughts about my favorite little spleens :33(I love them so much it physically hurts)
I bet playing hide and seek w/ them would be a special kind of fun! Ik I have a lot of request for smiling friends and I pinky promise to get them done rlly soon this is just a little self indulgence
Hide and seek with the sawyer family!!!!!! Yeah!!!
Bubba
They are so bad at it, it hurts. Listen, they are so big and bulky and too excited to play, they can’t hide anywhere and they aren’t that creative.
Cabinets are a no go, under the bed is laughable, I think they’d be the type to try and hide under a bunch of stuffies
They’re most likely to be hiding in closets and maybe the bathroom, probably behind the couch is a good place to look
Although you can easily find them cause if he sees or hears you getting closer they might start to giggle, it’s just so much fun!!!!
But when you do find them, the chase is fucking on. They may not look it but they are quick, bubba just has a hard time rounding corners quickly so that’s where they have trouble :((
When you do finally tag them, they’ll squeal and grab you, spinning you around. THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!! You two may get told off but it’s worth it
Bubba finding you is a pretty similar story. They are very observant but they’re still pretty giggly. Also with their loud ass stomps you can hear them coming and quickly change spots
When they do find you, oh fuck it’s over, doesn’t even think just quickly grabs you and hugs you tight. THEY WON!! It’s a lot of fun but low key scary when you can hear their foot steps approaching.
Nubbins
Loudest person you’ve ever met, how hard could it be? Once that game starts and you finish counting that boy is GONE
Although nubbins is pretty tall at a generous 6’2 he is skinny and loves small spaces so he quickly finds the smallish space he can cram himself in
A space you’d never think of looking and he is silent, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. He’s happy too, he doesn’t get bored which is surprising.
Nubbins will just lay there happily day dreaming til someone else unintentionally finds him and he cusses them out. Then you find him
Nubbins doesn’t care for the chase as much as the hiding so you easily tag him, he just can’t wait to find you :o))))))
You can also hear nubbins, but his is more, taunting. He likes to pretend he’s hunting you, and oh boy, it feels like he’s threatening you. You can hear him from the hall “heeeeeere kitty kitty k-kitty kitty kitty, where are you?” Your blood runs cold
Sitting in your hiding space steadying your breathing praying he doesn’t find you, there no hell you’d be able to out run a man who spends all day racing cars to scrap dead animal corpses off hot pavement!
When it goes quiet and you think you’re in the clear. You peak out and don’t see anything, so you swallow your fear and quickly stalk out to go and change hiding spaces. Then BAM!! He got you! Ha! You should see your space
He howls as you scream curling his body around yours, he eats up your terrified screams. He just hugs you tight and lays on the ground as you squirm trying to get away, he’ll pepper the side of your face with kisses as he pinches your cheeks. You’re so cute when you’re scared!
Choptop
Oh Robby rob, oh dear Robert bobert, you asked him to play hide and seek, for fun! What’s the harm that could happen! You know this man a little eccentric, but you had zero clue what you got yourself into. Playing hide and seek, with a VIETNAM war vet
He agrees, excited as fuck. Never have you seen him agree so quickly to something. Before you finish saying the words he’s making you count to ten.
First round goes fine, it’s completely normal and not weird. He hit under a bed and then chased you around the house when he found you. Fun!
Next round, you looked around giddily, looking where trying to find him. You searched the whole house trying to find that man for 20 minutes. That’s when you stood in the living room and felt, something went drip onto your forehead. You looked up, HE WAS ON THE FUCKING CEILING AND HE SPAT ON YOU!!!
Laughed as you tried to tag him, taunting you and spat on you some more until you got a step stool and he just dropped, landed on all fours and scrambled away faster than god
You had to have nubbins AND bubba help you catch him. That man was unstoppable. He only relented after a while cause he wanted to have his turn seeking.
Waiting patiently for footsteps and you heard none. You figured maybe he was at the other side of the house. That’s when you glanced slightly and saw, a glimpse of a smiling man in your peripheral. Two inches away from your face.
Screaming you dashed for the exit with him hot on your trail. Chop was toying with you the entire time. Laughing, he was always just behind you. He could have caught you easily but just wanted to see you run from him
Have you seen where he was chasing stretch and he just leaped onto the bridge and climbed on. Yeah he did that to you, that man was not messing around
As soon as it started it ended with you cornered and panting, he didn’t even break a sweat. He just gently pats your face and says “got ya!” Before shouting ‘nam worl’ loudly and cheering.
He’s the whole reason I made these head canons, I don’t want to play hide and seek w/ him
Drayton
The biggest fucking party pooper. Every time you ask he always says “I’m too old for that kiddy shit.” Or “are ya trying to kill me? I ain’t spending my afternoon chasing you around”
His favorite is “how about I go hide in the living room with the tv and you go find a damn to give me.” Dick >:((((
If in the one is a TRILLION chance he says fine, to shut you up it’s a pretty normal game to be honest
He isn’t one for running around so he doesn’t put much of a fight. Just sorta “oh ya got me! Happy now?” Yeah, you are, now it’s his turn
Is a really good seeker he just doesn’t like to run. If you try and make him chase you he’ll just give up cursing “I have other shit to do than play CHILDRENS game” like down chill out
Okay listen, deep down he does find it, a LITTLE fun and likes seeing you and his brothers play but don’t play with him. He doesn’t have time for that shit 😭😭💅💅
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vauxxy · 4 months
Text
sad, beautiful, tragic
distance, timing, breakdown, fighting
silence, the train runs off its tracks
kiss me, try to fix it
could you just try to listen?
hang up, give up
and for the life of us, we can get back
Tumblr media
peter parker x reader!!
(treacherous part 2)
PLOT - in which peter parker tries to talk to his rival after multiple drunk make out sessions the previous night.
WARNINGS - sexual references, no smut, make out scenes, allusions to sexual activity, weed, smoking, kiss and makeup attitude
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“just talk to her, don’t be an arse” gwen smiled, swaying with the movement of the subway. the sun peeked through the windows as the train made its way out of a tunnel and closer to their destination.
“what exactly are you supposed to say to someone you made out with like, 3 times while drunk?? especially if you used to hate their guts”
“i don’t know, ‘sorry i hated you before, i just internalised my fetish for goth stoners as hatred- let’s make out some more’ or something-“ gwen joked, before being cut off by a frustrated peter.
“are you kidding me? she’s gonna spot us across the carriage any second now and i won’t have any idea what to say to her!”
y/n sat cross legged in her seat, reading some depressing book from the early 1900’s about some depressing characters, written by a depressed closeted gay man. she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ears before re-adjusting her headphones. “i bet she’s listening to fucking my chemical romance or korn or some shit,” peter chuckled as his eyebrows furrowed, gripping onto the hanging bars of the train carriage.
“nope, look on spotify,” gwen corrected. peter turned away from y/n to look over at gwen, his eyes drifting to the screen of her phone.
“it says she’s listening to… taylor swift?” she said, a confused expression painted on her face. peter jolted his head back in shock, overcome with anxiety. “aunt may loves taylor swift…” he murmured, the rustle of the train carriage pulling him away from gwen.
“let me see what song,” peter insisted as he gestured to see gwen’s phone. she passed it over to him, watching his face move as he read the title.
“sad, beautiful, tragic… i’m pretty sure that’s from red, right?” peter questioned. gwen shrugged her shoulders in response. “i don’t know. i’m more of a midnights and evermore type of girl” she replied. peter scrolled down to the lyrics of the song, his eyes widening and his lips pursing.
“gwen, i’m totally fucked”
y/n had slept on what had happened the previous night. spider-man saved her from getting robbed and gave her some very unhelpful advice. what the fuck would spider-man know anyways? he doesn’t get any bitches. y/n may have also ghosted peter, but who cares? y/n put her heart out on the table, for some reason expecting more from the person who constantly teased her everyday for 2 years. sure, she should’ve saw it coming, but she didn’t. which is why she was going to be as dramatic as possible.
this meant a new playlist. no more limp biskit; nobody cries to ‘break stuff’!! it was time to listen to the entire red album on repeat, along with ‘ultraviolence’ and elliott smith. y/n was fully ready to be a sad little bitch.
on monday morning, she scored a seat on the subways and started listening to her new playlist, putting on one particular taylor swift song on repeat while she read her sad little bitch book. she looked up for a split second to see peter and gwen talking.
‘oh, so he can make time to talk to gwen, but not the girl he snogged three times?’ y/n thought.
y/n turned up her volume and put away her book as she listened to the lyrics of the song. the train pulled up to the station within walking distance to her school and so she stood up. catching the eye of peter as she walked to the doors, she quickly averted her gaze and took a few steps back.
peter flinched at the sudden eye contact, turning his full body towards gwen. “gwen. do something” he anxiously muttered. gwen nodded, smiling innocently, before beginning to casually walk over to y/n.
“y/n! how’d that hangover treat you?” gwen asked, pulling in y/n for a comfortable hug. y/n smiled hesitantly and embraced the act of affection. “so, so badly,” she replied, thinking back to the incident that followed the day after the party.
“the hangover is the least of my troubles” she stated and she glanced over at peter, who was watching both of them. “oh, do you mean…” gwen asked as she gestured over to the lanky boy trailing behind them, walking onto the platform as the train doors opened.
“what? no! i was mugged,” y/n announced, arching her eyebrows. peter didn’t look surprised. y/n took note of this, feeling somewhat offended that he didn’t care.
“y/n! are you okay?? how did that happen?” gwen asked, completely and utterly shocked. peter walked over. “wait, yeah… are you okay y/n?” he asked, breaking out of his anxious state for one moment.
y/n sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “i’m fine, spider-man saved me and then gave me some very unhelpful advice.” she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes darting between gwen and peter. “he’s a total ride though- i hope he’s not like… 46 or something,” she continued. gwen chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as her cheeks turned pink. “did you get to feel his abs?” she asked as the trio walked across queens to get to school.
“yeah, they were rock hard. i didn’t expect him to be so fit!” y/n exclaimed. peter tried to stifle his blush as they got closer to the school, blocking out their conversation.
as they entered the gates, gwen quickly walked towards her class, leaving the two alone.
“um, we have math-“
“i know, peter” y/n interrupted. her voice was cold and unemotional- a stark difference form her previous cheerful demeanour. this was the guy that she was squabbling with for years now… the guy that she also maybe had a few steamy dreams about as well. her preconceived notions about peter were contradicting with her fantasies and the realities of what happened over the weekend- causing her to spiral into a semi-depressed state of rage.
peter, on the other hand, knew exactly what he thought of y/n. he always thought that she was attractive, but a total arse. now, he found her being an arse super endearing. but that could have something to do with the fact that they made out 3 times and he almost touched her boobs.
the two walked in awkward silence to their math class, a strong tension in the air. they took their seats and sat painfully silently for an hour.
y/n tapped her pen on her notebook, not listening to a word the teacher was saying. ‘fuck it,’ she thought, ripping out a piece of paper.
she scribbled a few words down before passing it over to peter.
‘make up for ghosting me by skipping second period and hiding in the unisex bathrooms’
‘sure :)’
the unisex bathrooms were dimly lit, far away from the rest of campus. surrounded by unused classrooms. the unisex bathrooms were a prime hookup spot… but for y/n, it was her own personal hotbox.
she lit the end of her joint and put her lighter in her jacket pocket as she leaned against the bathroom wall. y/n took a drag as she stared at the wall. she took another short hit, before passing it to peter. he did the same, his legs crossed.
“so why didn’t you text me, dick face?” she started, crossing her arms. smoke escaped her lips as the talked, mesmerising peter.
“dick face?” peter repeated, stifling a grin as he shook his head.
“um… i guess i didn’t know what to say,” he replied, passing back the joint. y/n smiled awkwardly as she rolled her eyes. “classic parker…”
“well, do you know what to say now?” y/n asked, sliding down to the floor, head level with peter. he shrugged his shoulders. “kinda,” he muttered.
“are you gonna say it, mcslutty?”
“i don’t appreciate the name-calling, y/n.” he said irritably, his voice somewhat breathy.
“you ghosted me too, remember?” peter added, raising his eyebrows.
“yeah, but i was mugged!” she said defensively, opening her mouth in shock. “obviously i was too busy!”
peter laughed, covering his face. “fair point.”peter pursed his lips, looking down before taking another hit of the joint.
peter took a deep breath in, tapping the floor anxiously. “i really like you, y/n” peter averted his eyes. “i used the think i didn’t, but i was just lying to myself so i wouldn’t have to confront the fact that there’s actually nice stuff about you,” he’s smirked.
y/n chuckled. “what nice stuff?”
“your face, obviously. your musical skills, your rolling skills. you’re also really funny, and you’re so generous. you’re not nice to everyone, but you still help everyone- if that makes sense? but yeah… shit like that i guess,”
y/n smiled sincerely, slightly tilting her head to the side. “that’s pretty sweet, shithead”
it took them a whole 40 seconds before they started jamming their lips together, peter’s hands gripping y/n’s waist as she sat on top of his lap. her hands cupped his face gently, occasionally pulling a hand away and running it through his hair.
she pulled away for air, before continuing her attack on his lips, her hands trailing down his torso as she fiddled with his shirt. peter pulled away, looking up at her before her eyes drifting to her hands.
“what are you doing there?” he asked teasingly, his voice limited to a hoarse whisper.
she began to frantically kiss his neck, her hands still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “felt something hard. wondering if you’re ripped or just really horny.” she muttered breathily, one hand resting under his shirt as she caressed his torso, while the other hand gripped a bundle of his hair.
he looked as her curiously as she felt up his chest, watching her pull away with a look of shock and confusion. “peter? what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her hair messy and cheeks red.
“what? what’s wrong?” peter asked, panicked as his eyes drifted down to his pants, before meeting her eyes again. his face turned red, putting up his hands in surrender.
“hey, you were the one grinding against my-“
“no, you’re fully ripped!” she whispered, her eyes wide as her hand retracted from under his shirt. “jesus christ…” she muttered, lifting his shirt to take a peek.
peter burst out into a fit of dry laughter, tilting his head back and lightly hitting the wall of the bathroom stall.
“oh, yeah. that.” he said casually. y/n grumbled, standing up.
“right. i was not expecting that.” she huffed, her face completely red.
“anyways, i’m not fucking you in a hot-boxed bathroom stall at school. if you decide to stop being a little bitch and message me, maybe i’ll forgive you for ghosting me.” y/n proposed, leaning against the wall as she looked down at peter.
peter nodded, standing up. he opened the door, turning to face her. “yeah, i definitely won’t be ghosting you anytime soon. sorry about that, by the way.” he murmured.
“it’s fine. just as long as you send me a picture of your abs after school.” she demanded, her face completely serious as she looked peter up and down. peter nodded, his eyes wide.
she bit her lip, meeting his eyes once again. “seriously, they’re almost as good at spider-man’s.” she added, exiting the bathroom- leaving peter alone to deal with his thoughts.
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