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#though no one seems to have noticed it was damaged in the first place
marlynnofmany · 4 months
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Writer problem: finding a typo in something you posted months ago, and needing to track down and fix it everywhere you posted it.
(Seriously, can't have people thinking I don't know how to spell "three-foot-tall badass," now can I?)
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
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Geology of Natural Disasters and How to write them into your fictional universe.
So, you want to write about a natural disaster to advance your plot and torture your players/characters even more? Let me tell you how, accurately.
I feel like unless it is a volcano, natural disasters are a pretty slept on plot drivers, and some of them are really cool and unique! Today, I will talk to you about land slides, earthquakes (And earthquake related disasters), and volcanoes.
Landslides: Probably one I see the least in stories, but one that would be incredibly interesting to write into a plot where they believe in curses. Landslides can happen along ocean bluffs, slightly hilly areas, and highly mountainous areas, this means it is something that can happen in most landscapes. But what can trigger a landslide? Mostly all you need to trigger a landslide could be just abnormally large amounts of rain, excessive deforestation (with a little bit of rain), or an earthquake. If you don't want to use deforestation or an earthquake as a catalyst, a really cool indicator that the land is slipping and may be prone to a collapse is J hooked trees.
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This indicates that there is soil creeping slowly over time, and it may lead to a major landslide.
2. Earthquakes: Probably one of the easiest things to write, earthquakes can happen anywhere, but they are most common in places that are tectonically active areas. There are about three types of environments you can expect earthquakes to be common. The first is just rugged mountains, if your landscape looks like this, you should write in earthquakes. Associated hazards could be landslides, avalanches, and large falling rocks.
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The next landscape could be a thin mountain range, next to the ocean, very scenic, but very dangerous. Essentially, I am describing a subduction zone environment.
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Earthquakes in these areas could equal a couple different associated disasters. Scenario one: A very large earthquake happens, and the ocean begins to recede. This is a tsunami, enough said. If you are writing a tsunami though, please, please, do not write it as a large wave, thank you. Also, a common way people are hurt by tsunami's are from them going into the ocean because they don't understand a tsunami is going to happen.
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Scenario two: A large earthquake happens, your characters are in a valley and suddenly the ground begins to liquify as the ground shakes, once the shaking stops, the ground becomes solid like nothing ever happened, except everything has suddenly sunk into the now hard ground. This is called liquefaction and it typically happens in areas that have loose dirt or lots of saturated soil.
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Scenario three: There are a lot of small earthquakes, they do not cause a lot of damage, but you begin to notice that one of the isolated mountains has a plume rising. Earthquakes can indicate lava moving underground and the filling of magma chambers.
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The next environment that can host lots of earthquakes would be regions that have a lot of really deep valleys and small mountain ranges (not cone volcanoes), but overall seems pretty flat.
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This indicates a transform fault like the San Andreas. If you want to hint at there being earthquakes in the area, you can show fence posts that are suddenly several feet out of line at a dilapidated farm or something similar.
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(These earthquakes are different because they are cased from sideways movement, not an up-and-down movement this hint can only be used for this environment). Volcanoes would not be found here, but liquefaction and landslides could still occur here.
4. Volcanoes: If you thought earthquakes had a lot of information, volcanoes do too. First you have to ask yourself, what kind of volcano you want to have, what kind of eruption style? So lets break down the kind of eruptions you can have and what their landscapes look like. Hawaiian Shield volcano: This will produce a smooth fast lava, the landscape typically is pretty flat, but there will be small cones and the rocks can have a ropey or jagged texture and the rocks will be almost exclusively black to dark red.
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Stratovolcanoes: These will be solitary mountains, typically, that look like perfect cones (Picture shown in earthquake section). These will have large ash cloud eruptions and pyroclastic flows, they may have some lava, but typically most damage is done from the pyroclastic flows (think Pompeii). Some hints of these, other than describing the cone features (which can be hidden by other mountains), would be to talk about petrified wood! Trees can get fossilized in the ash and I imagine it would be very strange to find this rock that clearly looks to be a piece of wood, but its a rock. Subcategory- Calderas: Used to be a large stratovolcano, but they erupt so explosively that the entire cone collapses and creates a basin.
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There are a lot of kinds of volcanoes out there, so forgive me for just putting an infographic and then talking to you about these really rare types of eruptions that I feel like people should know about.
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Okay lets talk about blue lava (kind of) and black lava
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You will notice the lava is still red in the middle of this image, during the day these would look like a normal eruption, but at night the burning sulfur would make it appear blue. Some cool features other than this, would be that any water in the area would become very acidic and burn the skin due to sulfuric acid. This would again be really cool if you are trying to describe a 'cursed' land.
Black lava: This happens only in the east African rift I believe, but it is a carbonatite lava, but if you are writing in a rift valley (where the continent is tearing apart to form a new ocean) this might be a cool feature. The lava will cool white and will quickly erode, it makes for a very alien landscape!
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Anyway as always, this is supposed to be an introductive guide for the basics of writing geology to create cool landscapes/features into dnd or fictional universes, if you are a geologist please understand my oversimplification of tectonics, I didn't want people to run away.
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moon7jay · 3 months
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Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)
Read pt.2 here
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Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut
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Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.
He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.
He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.
He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.
He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.
"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.
Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.
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You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.
First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.
The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control
"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.
What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.
You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.
You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.
Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.
You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch
"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.
You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.
Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.
"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.
You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.
His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.
"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.
An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.
"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.
Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.
Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.
He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.
Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.
"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.
You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face
"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.
"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.
He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.
He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.
Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.
"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.
He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.
His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire
"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure
"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets
"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him
"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.
"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.
Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?
Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you
"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.
"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.
He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.
"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.
Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.
Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck
"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.
"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.
His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief
"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.
"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.
"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.
Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.
"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.
"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.
"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.
Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.
His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch
"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.
"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.
"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.
Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him
"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets
"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.
"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-
A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room
"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.
Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.
Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed
"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.
Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number
"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker
"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"
"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-
"It's a pussy"
Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.
The night was going to be so so long.
2K notes · View notes
captainfern · 10 months
Note
ORAL FIXATION WITH GHOST
Always chewing on your thumbs / nails and ghost getting onto you (cutely) and everyone is disgusted by it but you just alwaysss have something in your mouth and one night ghost gets like “fed up” with you hurting yourself by chewing on your nails so he is like “you wanna suck on something?” And you give him the sloppiest neediest head I’m talking tears and mascara streaks and the lewdest noises like just UGHHH
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Damage, Inc.
Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader
[“Damage, Inc” by Metallica]
[18+]
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• summary - you have a thing for putting stuff in your mouth. ghost has something to put in your mouth too lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.1k • warnings - fem!reader, oral [m!receiving], praise, degradation?? not rlly tho tbh, strong language
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You couldn’t help it.
It started off simple. Chewing your nails out of nerves and anxiety eventually gave way to chewing your nails out of habit. You didn’t mean too, it just happened. It’s not that you did it on purpose, anyway.
But everyone else on base still made fun of you for it.
Then, things got slightly more complicated. Putting your fingers in your mouth when you were nervous, or concentrating— just pressing the tip of your thumb to your bottom lip, or rubbing the pad of your index finger against the top of your lower row of teeth. It wasn’t meant to be gross, or strange, or anything like that. You couldn’t help it!
Things kept ramping up. Soon, you found yourself absent-mindedly biting at lollipop-sticks for hours on end, the plastic rolling along your teeth and tongue and giving you something to focus on. Then, it was sucking and chewing on the lid of your drink bottle for literally fucking days during missions.
It was becoming embarrassing, especially when the boys commented on it, joked about you acting like some teething fucking animal. It made you immediately spit out whatever it was in your mouth, and draw back within yourself, face burning. You didn’t mean too.
Gaz and Soap, bless their hearts, joked about it like teenagers. They didn’t mean it maliciously. They were idiots. You didn’t dwell on it too much.
Price tried to help. He noticed the chewing of the nails, first. Noticed the red, raw ring around your fingertips.
“Just dip your fingers in hand sanitiser. You’ll hate the taste.” He suggested.
You gave him a look. That’s not going to work, Price, oh my god.
He laughed. He seemed to understand you the most, though. On base, he carried toothpicks in his pocket, and would roll one across the table to you during rather tedious or nerve-wracking briefings. You’d twist them around in your mouth until you could taste the wood.
On a couple of occasions during missions, he’d hand you an unlit cigar if he had one to spare. You didn’t like the actual smoke inhalation that came with smoking, but the look of it always intrigued you. So, Price would hand you a cigar and you’d happily roll your lips around it, not binding the bitter taste of tobacco. Sometimes, Price would place his hat on your head while the cigar hung from your lips.
Soap liked to do this thing— he’d enter the room after Price gave you a cigar and his hat. He’d act shocked, looking between the two of you with his hands either side of his head in an expression of shock.
“Two Price’s?!?!?!?!”
It was funny, you had to admit.
But, the one person you couldn’t quite crack about the matter was your lieutenant.
He noticed your fixation. Of course he did. Ghost noticed everything.
But he didn’t act weirded out, making jokes like Gaz and Soap. He didn’t even try to offer help like Price.
He’d just make small remarks to you. Sometimes they were somewhat helpful. Sometimes you felt your body grow hot with embarrassment.
Chewing on your nails?— he’d tap you on the head as he walked past you.
Fingers near or in your mouth?— he’d yank your arm away with a shake of his head.
Sucking on the nozzle of your drink bottle for a bit too long?— he’d grip the back of your head and pull your mouth off of it.
Each action made you feel humiliated, to say the least. But, each action also had him speaking to you in ways that made your stomach flip.
Tap on the head = “Quit it, sergeant.”
Arm yanked away = “None of that, thank you.”
Head pulled away = “Don’t make me ask you again.”
Did some of his whispered words make your core throb? Maybe. Was that a problem? Also maybe, but who cares?
This entire thing came to a head one night in base. Price, Soap and Gaz were off doing god knows what, leaving you alone in the rec-room. You found yourself running a finger against your teeth as you stared into space, your most previous mission replaying in your mind.
You didn’t even hear Ghost come in. You also didn’t see him until he was looming over you, a hand clamping around your wrist.
You squeaked in surprise.
“You just don’t listen, do you?” He tutted softly. “You’re hurting yourself. I’ve told you to quit it.”
You looked up at him. “I don’t mean too, sir, I mean it. It just—”
“I don’t care,” Ghost said simply. “Stop it. I’m fed up of seeing you putting shit in your mouth. You’re not a dog.”
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t understand—”
“I don’t understand?” He blinked down at you. “I don’t understand? I understand perfectly. You just want things in your mouth, right? That’s what you want, eh?”
You frowned. “You’re making it weird.”
He had a hand on his belt now. When did he do that? It made your stomach flip.
“You want to suck on something so bad? You want something in your mouth?” He was unbuckling his belt before you could reply. “Come on then, naughty girl, open your fucking mouth.”
You gaped at him as he let his belt hang either side of his hips and place one of his gloved hands to his growing bulge.
“Lieutenant—?”
“Well?” He prompted, imprint of his cock right in front of your face. “Come on, sergeant. You want to put things in your mouth, right? So go on. Suck my fucking cock. Open wide and let me stuff this mouth with my cock.”
Oh.
I mean, you weren’t complaining.
But oh.
He peered down at you between long, blond eyelashes. You swallowed thickly, his stare making your entire body grow hot. His eyes seemed to grow darker and despite the skull balaclava, you could imagine his expectant expression.
“On your knees.” He whispered, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head.
You did as you were told— clambering off of the couch and sinking to the floor. His hand was still heavy on the back of your head as you propped ourself on your knees. He pushed your head forward, and you caught yourself by placing your hands on his thick thighs.
“Come on, pretty girl. I don’t have all night. Take my cock out.” He mumbled, pressing your face closer to the obvious bulge in his jeans.
He lightened his grip so you could lean back. With shaky hands, you unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans. You opened them and proceeded to push down his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free.
“Good fucking girl. Now take it in your hand,” Ghost hissed. “Wrap your hand around it— ah, fuck, there you go.”
You grasped the base of his cock firmly, making him curse under his breath. You squeezed it gently, stroking lightly, and he hissed out, the hand on the back of your head tightening in your hair.
“S’enough of that,” he tugged at your hair. “Open.”
You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. He looked down, cocking a head slightly to the side. Tentatively, you leaned forward and, still maintaining eye contact, pressed your lips delicately to the reddened tip of his cock. The pressure was featherlight, barely a peck, and when you pulled back, you had a small smear of precum on your lower lip.
He grunted, the hand at your head tightening so much that it made you choke on a whine.
“Quit the fucking teasing,” Ghost grunted again. “Naughty girl you are, eh, sergeant?”
You kissed the tip of his cock again. This time, you darted your tongue out like a fucking lizard and swiped it along the sensitive slit across the head. A deep, gravelly sound emitted from Ghost’s throat.
Whoops.
His other hand came down to your face, and he forced a thumb into your mouth. It was cottony against your tongue, his glove tasting like the smell of him. He kept his thumb pressed to your tongue, his other hand gripping the back of your head. His cock was still directly in front of your face. A dribble of pre leaked down the fat shaft of it.
“What’d I just fucking say?” He growled, thumb pressing down harder. “Quit fucking teasing. You don’t want to listen to your lieutenant, eh?”
His thumb on your tongue was making you salivate so much that strings of it dripped from the corners of your mouth. You whined, embarrassed, as your body flared hot with humiliation.
Ghost chuckled, low and dark. “Messy girl.”
He finally shifted his thumb, hooking it onto the bottom row of your teeth, the rest of his fingers holding your chin. With this, he forced your jaw wider, pushing your head closer with his other hand.
“You want to put things in your mouth? Want to be a dirty girl?” Ghost let go of your head briefly so he could grasp his cock. He brought it forward and ran the sensitive tip across your lower face, smearing your saliva. He shuddered an exhale at the sensation. “Come on then. Let me put my cock in your mouth. Let’s see how dirty you can be.”
He kept your jaw open like a vice as he pulled his cock back and then proceeded to push it into your open mouth. You gagged immediately as he rammed the tip into the back of your throat with a groan.
“Yeah, that’s right. Gag on it,” Ghost groaned. “Fucking gag on it. S’too big, eh? Fuck, I know, pretty girl. But you love putting things in your mouth, don’t you? I bet you love this.”
Tears were welling in your eyes when he removed his thumb from your mouth. He kept a hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take more and more of him.
He was grunting and groaning quietly above you, your cunt throbbing at the sounds. Meanwhile, you continued to wrap your lips around his girth and keep up with the way he was fucking your throat.
He was heavy on your tongue. Velvety smooth, with veins you could feel and drips of precum that you could taste. You moaned around his cock, and he bucked his hips deeper into you, making you gag again. Tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks.
“That’s it, take it,” he muttered, the fat head of his cock slamming into the back of your throat. “Take it all in this slutty little mouth. Listen to these noises, too. Such a filthy fucking mouth.”
The noises were slick and wet. Your saliva, dribbling down your chin, pooled in your mouth as he fucked it. It was sloppy and messy. The sounds filling your ears made your stomach twist in both mortification and excitement.
Ghost was fucking his cock into your mouth like a madman. His thrusts were desperate while he kept a firm grip on your head. He watched you as you took his cock down your throat, grunting at each suctioned drag, eased by the amount of saliva.
His breaths were now coming in pants. “You’re not gonna put your fingers in your mouth again, okay? You want something to suck on, then you come and suck on my cock. Got it?”
You whimpered around him, desperately trying to hold more gags at bay.
He was still grunting and groaning deep from his chest as pleasure built within him. “M-fuck. M’gonna cum down your throat and you’re gonna take it all, pretty girl.”
You whimpered at him again. Your core was throbbing so much you thought you might die.
The grip Ghost had on your head tightened even more, forcing you to take more of his cock until your nose was flush to the thatch of hair at the base. You whined and gagged and it prompted Ghost to whisper your name and cum down your throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled as he emptied his load into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, take it, pretty girl. Don’t waste it… don’t waste it.”
He rutted his cock a couple more times before he pulled out. He blinked down at you lazily as you stared up at him, cheeks puffed out with a mouth full of his cum. Cheekily, you poked your tongue out a few centimetres, some of his seed oozing out and dripping down your chin.
“Holy fuck—” He caught himself moaning. “Just— fuck, swallow it.”
You did, and he moaned again. He pulled you up towards him, urging you to your feet by still holding your head. Then, he kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to smother the noise of surprise you made.
When he pulled back, he breathed deeply, massaging the back of your neck gently.
“I’m serious, by the way. Stop chewing your nails and sucking on your fingers… please.”
You smiled at him. “I’ll try. As long as I can distract myself by sucking on your cock instead.”
“O’course you can, pretty girl.”
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bruh this sucked i’m sorry 😭
4K notes · View notes
kyber-crystal · 4 months
Text
i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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puckinghischier · 10 days
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Nervous
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack
summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day
notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌
[2.6k]
~
Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during nationals games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.
Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devil’s home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.
Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.
“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.
You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.
You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.
“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.
You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before Jack dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.
Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.
At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.
“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.
“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.
Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.
Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.
“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.
“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.
“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.
“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”
Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.
“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months now.
“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”
That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.
So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.
He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.
Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.
“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.
“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”
“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.
“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.
“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.
“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”
Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.
“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.
“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.
“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.
“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”
“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.
Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat dinner. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.
Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.
As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?
Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.
Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.
He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.
As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.
You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.
The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.
As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.
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jellieland · 5 months
Text
"Well, that was fun!" says Jimmy.
"Oh, was it?" says Grian, grumpily. He's on top of the mountain, assessing the damage from Martyn's end crystal. It's blown up part of the bed shrine, which might actually be more of a loss than the twenty-two hearts of damage it did to him. "You did seem to be enjoying making me do completely ridiculous stuff, don't think I didn't notice that."
"It was pretty funny though," says Jimmy. "Remember when you got Cleo and Etho to spin in circles for no reason?"
"...Okay, that was pretty funny," Grian admits.
"Ooh, and when you got them to do the zombie dance," says Jimmy.
Grian shakes his head. "I can't believe no one said anything." He frowns at the place where the wolf spawner used to be.
"Yeah, pretty crazy right?" says Martyn.
Grian spins round and flinches back, letting out a shriek.
Martyn is leaning casually up against one of the trees, watching him. "Honestly Grian, I think maybe you need to reevaluate your life if Timmy controlling all your actions didn't set off any red flags with anyone," he says.
"You couldn't have let me know that was coming, Tim?" asks Grian, exasperated, staring up into the empty sky.
Jimmy is quiet for a moment longer than Grian expected. "Say hello to Martyn," he says.
"You know I don't have to do what you say anymore, right?" says Grian. "I'm fact, maybe I'll do the opposite of what you say."
"Hey, no!" cries Jimmy.
Martyn makes a quiet noise, and Grian's gaze snaps back to him. "Oh no, don't let me interrupt," he says airily.
Grian clears his throat. "...Hey, Martyn," he says awkwardly.
"Hello, Martyn," says Jimmy softly, as though Martyn will be able to hear him.
"Hello," says Martyn. He looks around, up into the sky. "Timmy still about, then?"
"Maybe," says Grian. "Why? I'm not about to pass notes for your tearful reunion, if that's what you're here for."
"Aww," says Jimmy. "Why not?"
"No," says Martyn. "You need to get rid of him."
"Hey!" cries Jimmy. "Wait, what-"
"Whatever this is," continues Martyn, "it needs to stop."
"It's not up to me," says Grian, narrowing his eyes. "I don't see what you're so upset about, though."
"You don't?" says Martyn, coolly. "Look at you. Like you're dragging his corpse around to parade before the entire server."
"I am not!" snaps Grian. "And frankly I resent the suggestion!"
"Oh yeah?" says Martyn. "What do you think you were doing, then?"
Grian glares at him. "A task!"
"Right, yeah, course." Martyn glares back. "And why'd you think the session was so calm, huh?"
Grian frowns, thrown off. "I- Wait, what?"
"What do you mean, what?" snaps Martyn. "You're the one who brought the canary back to haunt us!"
"Haunt me, you mean! And anyway, he didn't even die first this time, that was Lizzie."
"It's not just about dying first," says Martyn. "It's about what comes after. He dies, and then it all goes wrong. Everything falls apart."
"I don't know, dude, I'm doing alright." Grian shrugs.
"And then he comes back," continues Martyn pointedly, "and on a server full of reds and yellows, not a single person properly dies. You don't think that's weird?"
Grian considers, but not for long. "I don't know," He crosses his arms. "I think you're just twisting the narrative to suit what you think it should be."
"Oh, really?" Martyn scoffs. "And what does Jimmy think?"
Grian rolls his eyes. "Alright fine, Timmy, what do you think?"
There is silence.
"...Tim?" says Grian.
There is more silence.
"Well?" asks Martyn, eventually.
"I think he's gone," says Grian.
"Gone," says Martyn flatly.
"Yep," says Grian, suddenly nervous.
"Gone?" Martyn raises his voice. He looks up to glare at the clouds. "Are you serious?"
"Look," says Grian. "I don't know what you actually wanted to talk about, but-"
"Really? I had one person! One!" Martyn shouts at the sky. "And you took him, too? He was dead before! He was already dead, and then you gave him to someone else, and then you took him, again?!"
Grian shifts nervously. He's not entirely sure that Martyn's talking to him, but- "I didn't do it on purpose! It's a task, Martyn, come on! It's random chance!"
Martyn turns abruptly to look back at Grian. "It's not random." He says. His hand goes to his sword, and Grian suddenly feels rather unsafe. "It's not random. It's never random."
"Okay," says Grian, slowly inching back and away. That doesn't sound right, but it doesn't seem like the time to argue.
"You think this isn't planned?" snaps Martyn. "You think this isn't just more and more ways to mess with us? Over and over and over again?"
Grian think they mess with themselves pretty well already, but he isn't about to say that right now. He opens his mouth to respond, and-
"Grian?" Cleo's voice—oh, thank goodness. Cleo's voice carries up from the base below. "You alright up there?"
Martyn and Grian make eye contact.
"I'm good, Cleo! Could use some help, though, if you want to come up?" calls Grian.
"Kay, be there in a minute!" Cleo shouts.
Martyn narrows his eyes. "I'll see you at the end," he murmurs. "This won't last much longer."
"Probably not," Grian replies, just as quiet. "It never does."
Martyn turns to go.
Before he leaves, Grian sighs. "Jimmy told me to say hello," he says, some foolish sense of obligation forcing out the words.
Martyn pauses, but doesn't look back. After a moment, he vanishes into the trees.
Grian looks at the aftermath of the exploded end crystal. The broken shrine. The scars on his hands.
"It never does last," he says again. "Not when people do stuff like that."
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ceilidho · 4 months
Note
oh i just know bear latches onto the single pregnant woman working at the diner closest to his place, he sees her as a way of saving her from gods wrath if he married her and adopts her unborn child and he gets the family he always wanted with Lena (who idk she rubbed me the wrong way in the show, maybe its due to the shows inability to write woman but i digress) but like that god complex sort of mentality that has been building in him with the loss of his navy brothers, the divorce and the loss of his own child idk man youre the one with the amazing brain and ability for these concepts god i love your work sm its not funny.
oh you've got something insane cooking here........
divorce has been finalized, Lena's long moved out and maybe even left the state altogether (I'm not touching what actually happens in the last ep)......only his work is really keeping Bear upright at this point, otherwise he would've just gone on a year long bender. he still has his bad days though, weekends where he just disappears. passing out in the bushes outside his house, waking up with a kink in his neck and a headache that threatens to split his forehead open. spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but just won't kill him.
and then one day he stops at the diner for a quick meal before heading to the bar and notices the new waitress. pregnant, obviously so. not terribly far along, but noticeable. his first thought, the most immediate thing that jumps into his mind is what she's doing working at this crummy diner on a friday night. just his luck that he's seated in her section and remembers how to turn on the charm, smiles and asks for her name and peppers her with compliments and she just rolls her eyes and smiles bashfully like she's used to grumpy old men melting around her.
when he finds out that the guy that got her pregnant has long since skipped town, told her in no uncertain terms that he has no interest in becoming a father, Bear's eyes go cold and hard for a bit. after what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then...sending it back...has him feeling just a little off-kilter. not quite right. it doesn't last long and he apologizes when she seems unnerved, but the rage still sizzles under his fingertips. makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems.
but as he sits there, drinking his coffee and lingering, the hour slipping by into the next, it starts to come together in his mind. why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. he was supposed to be in this diner with this sweet girl and save her. make her an honest woman, give her baby a father. bring her into the lord's house and do for them what he couldn't do for his daughter and fallen brothers.
so he sips his coffee and waits for her to come back to his table. and plots.
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tiannasfanfic · 1 year
Text
Conviction
Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)
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| Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: Life takes an unexpected turn when a one time fling with your best friend leads to an unplanned pregnancy. Will years of friendship be enough to build a solid marriage off of...or are you destined for heartbreak due to a wandering eye like the town rumor mill predicts?
Rating: Explicit 18+
Author Note: Afab Reader, no pronouns used. Angst with a happy ending.
CW: Town gossip; bullying; unplanned pregnancy (no details); marriage; mentions of cheating; mentions of alcohol use; smut (p in v, fingering, kissing, dirty talk); consensual role play of a non-con situation.
Word Count: 8,332
Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore
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con·vic·tion - noun: a firmly held belief or opinion.
If you were to ask the people in Hawkins, life for you and Eddie Munson turned out exactly how they expected.
Eddie was branded an outcast while he was a child thanks to his dad. Edward Munson Sr had long been known in Hawkins as a hard-working criminal. Your car was stolen? The cops always checked out Munson’s place first. While no one blamed Eddie for his father’s mistakes, no one really wanted their kids to be around the son of a no-good common criminal either. It honestly surprised no one when Ed was finally put away for a long time due to car theft, which led to his parental rights being transferred to Wayne.
But despite Eddie going into his uncle’s care, the unfair reputation he’d gained during childhood followed along after him. He wasn’t a bad kid, by any means, nor did he get in much trouble. But once the town thinks of someone a certain way, it’s hard for them to break free of that. And, by this point, he’d taken a liking to heavy metal and playing the guitar, which further cemented his outcast status in their minds. Then his interest in fantasy led him to D&D, which led to the rumors of Satan worshiping. He evolved from being seen as just a mere outcast into a full-blown freak by the time he hit high school.
You, on the other hand, managed to fly under the towns radar for quite some time. While the two of you met the year before middle school and became fast friends, people only began to notice how your close friendship was during sophomore year. That’s when a spotlight finally found its way over to you. The rumor mill went absolutely crazy. Even though you weren’t dating Eddie, and this was a known fact, that didn’t really matter to anyone. You got labeled as his and the bullying began almost immediately.
After a while, Eddie tried to save you by severing the friendship, and made a big production of it in the cafeteria, much to your horror. But the damage had already been done. The teasing only got worse when people thought he’d grown tired of you. You weren’t even good enough for the freak, they said. It ended up being a miserable two months for both of you before you finally reconciled your friendship. Fortunately, the whole thing brought you two even closer together afterwards.
After that, the town knew exactly what was going to happen to you two. They predicted Eddie would have you knocked up before senior year and that you’d drop out of school. They seemed split on what would happen after that though. Some said Eddie would run off right away and leave you a single mom. Others said he would stay but would cheat and run off on you later, leaving you a single mom. They were quite surprised when you graduated high school without a baby in tow.
Since people in town didn’t expect Eddie to amount to anything, it surprised no one when he had to repeat his senior year twice. They felt vindicated in their beliefs when it was rumored Eddie was dealing drugs. The murder charges were a bit of a surprise, but nothing actually changed in the way the town thought of him once he was absolved of those. Eddie was still an outcast and a freak, just not one that was wanted for murder.
But that Spring Break led to everything changing between the two of you.
Once his name was in the clear and he had graduated, Eddie’s new group of friends combined with his old ones to throw him a party to celebrate. Everyone was able to cut loose and relax at Steve Harrington’s huge house, so a fun time was had by all. Sometime during the night, feeling both happy and a bit on the horny side, you made a drunken pass at Eddie. His response was favorable, which led to a romp in the back of his van.
It was an impulsive thing, nothing that had been planned or talked about or even thought about beforehand. Neither of you had really spoke about it afterwards, which you took as an unspoken agreement. It was a onetime thing, a moment of physical connection fueled by alcohol and a much-needed reminder that you both made it out of everything alive.
Three weeks later, a little white stick turned blue.
Once the shock wore off after a few days, Eddie became determined to do the right thing. He asked you to marry him. Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he was a good man and you could do much worse, you said yes.
That first eight months of your relationship was a whirlwind. Between planning and executing a small courthouse wedding, getting ready for the baby, and the pregnancy itself, you two didn’t get the opportunity to breathe much less get to enjoy each other’s company and feel each other out as a couple.
Once the baby was born, a baby boy you two named Eddie Wayne, life only got crazier.
Now that the expenses for a baby were added into the budget, money got tight with there only being one income in the house. Childcare was too expensive to justify you working, so Eddie picked up as much extra work as he could, working even longer hours at the garage where he was a mechanic. It was the only way to keep up with bills, but this meant he was away from home even more, sometimes not getting home until well after you and Eddie Wayne were already asleep.
And that was how it quietly went for almost two years. You kept up with everything in the house and the baby, and Eddie brought home the paycheck. It was a routine you both fell into, barely seeing and talking to each other except in passing, even on his rare days off. While you missed your best friend and the friendship you had before, you thought this was just how life went for new parents.
But then the people in town started to notice how often Eddie wasn’t at the house. People saw his van parked up at the garage until all hours. People noticed how you two were rarely seen together anymore.
And so, the rumor mill started up again.
Your relationship was on the rocks, they said. You two had grown apart, they said. You both were too young, they said. It was only a matter of time before this happened, they said.
You did your best to ignore it, like you always did.
But as the months went on though, you noticed the random looks you normally got from strangers became increasingly sympathetic looking. You noticed people whispering around you more. Then, oddly, people actually began approaching you to speak with you. It wasn’t idle chitchat, like you do when you bump into someone, but instead were asking you specific questions about how you were and how life was going. They seemed to be checking in on you with genuine concern, though that was a bit baffling since no one had bothered to care about you before now. You kept the interactions polite but couldn’t help wonder what their ulterior motive was.
It wasn’t long before you finally heard the big rumor that was prompting such a response from people.
Eddie was cheating on you.
They said that’s really why he was up at the garage so late, said it was the only place he could get away with it since you were always home. They said he actually had several girlfriends on the side, and never had to be with the same one twice in one week. And his poor wife, they said. Stuck at home with her head in the sand, blissfully ignorant to her husband’s nightly activities.
It angered you at first. Not what they were saying, but why they were saying it. It struck you as petty and juvenile. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had anything better to do, if their lives were really so dull that they had to focus on yours instead. Despite the way you two ended up together, you doubted Eddie would actually cheat on you. Eddie Munson was many things, but a cheat in any capacity had never been among them. The town was always wrong about him before, and they were definitely wrong about this.
But as the weeks went on, the rumors persisted and you heard them more, it began to gnaw at you. And, once the shred of doubt was planted in your mind, it steadily grew into suspicion and paranoia. You really didn’t want to believe it, but now you had a little voice in your head asking you, what if? It’s not like you were up at the garage to really know what was going on. And why would they be saying it so much if it wasn’t true, if someone hadn’t seen something for sure? The more time that passed, the more it drove you crazy and the more the very idea began to hurt.
You began to really pay attention and notice things after that. Whenever you tried to engage Eddie in conversation, his responses were always short and to the point. He didn’t talk about his day and didn’t really ask about yours except for things relating to Eddie Wayne. While there may have been distance between you two, Eddie never stopped doting on his son.
And the distance was clear now that you really thought about it. There wasn’t even that much affection between you two. He barely touched you and sex was a rarity. Often weeks would pass before one of you would initiate it, and, even then, it seemed halfhearted and tired. It felt more like a routine rather than something either of you really wanted to do. Even the kiss he gave you before leaving every morning was brief and chaste, given without hardly a glance as he did it.
One thing piled up on top of the other in your brain until one afternoon when the gnawing paranoia finally bit down and made you snap to attention. It wasn’t anything big or out of the ordinary that caused it. It was a Saturday afternoon and Eddie called you to let you know he’d be staying at work well past closing. He didn’t give specifics, just that he needed to get some things finished and that you shouldn’t wait up for him.
This kind of thing happened all the time, but you decided you couldn’t take the suspicion any longer. It felt more like you were more roommates than spouses by this point, and it was eating away at you. You had to find out if the rumors were true.
You knew getting into the garage to surprise him wouldn’t be hard. A long time ago, Eddie had proven himself trustworthy enough for the owner to give him his own key to the place, as well as a spare to keep at home. While Eddie always had his key with him, you knew where the spare was since you’ve had to take it up there to Eddie a couple times when he accidentally locked his keys inside the building. With that in hand, you’d have no problem getting in after closing without having to give Eddie a heads up.
But, at the same time, your gut was telling you to be cautious and think this through carefully. A large part of you was still convinced your husband wouldn’t betray you like that. He had been your best friend for years and had never tried to deliberately hurt you before. You didn’t want to just barge in and interrupt your husband at his job with accusations flying when all you had to go on was the town gossip. You wanted to have an actual excuse for going up there if this all turned out to be nothing.
Since Eddie Wayne was a little over 18 months old at this point, Uncle Wayne had been offering to keep him overnight sometime so you and Eddie could have an evening alone together. He was overjoyed when you called to finally take him up on that offer and he picked up his grandson for a sleepover shortly afterwards.
Once your son was off with his grandpa, you got a quick dinner made. It wasn’t anything fancy, just spaghetti with a small splurge of meatballs, but it was something cheap and easy that you and Eddie both loved. You made two lunch containers of it, then stored the rest of the leftovers away in the fridge. You packed up both lunch containers, some silverware, and napkins into a paper sack, and then headed up to the garage where Eddie worked.
On your way there, the nerves started building. You were nauseous with them by the time you pulled into the parking lot. You identified Eddie’s van right away, but as you got out of your car, you realized there was no way to tell if he was alone before you went inside. The parking lot was half full of vehicles, and you had no way of knowing which ones were there to be worked on, or if any of them belonged to a late-night visitor.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to prepare yourself for anything as best you could and let yourself into the front door.
There was no bell overhead to announce your presence as you walked inside, so your arrival was thankfully quiet. It wouldn’t have really mattered had there been a bell though, you could hear music drifting into the reception area from an open door behind the counter that led to the garage area proper. You could hear a song from Megadeth’s latest album drifting into the room.
Following the sound of the music, you stepped through the door out into the garage. You couldn’t see much since most of the bays had a vehicle in it and it was dark The only light you could see was coming from the far end of the building, near the back wall by the office.
You carefully made your way through the semi dark garage, being careful not to trip on any stray hoses or tools. As you got closer to the light and music, you still couldn’t see anything thanks to a few stacks of tires and a large, upright toolbox. But once you stepped around those though, you got a full, unobstructed view of the very last vehicle bay.
And what you saw made you stop in your tracks.
There was a Jeep was parked in that last bay, with its hood up and a light clamped onto it. Eddie was bent over under the hood at an awkward angle, trying not to get in his own light and stretched out as if trying to reach something at the very back. It was really hot here at the back of the garage, so Eddie had the top half of his coveralls down around his waist. He’d also shed the wife beater he normally wore under the coveralls, leaving him completely shirtless. His skin had a heavy sheen of sweat on it, and he was flushed from being under the hot work light. He’d gotten grease and dirt on his back from being under the Jeep, but rather than make him look dirty, the grime seemed to contour and enhance the lean muscle lines of his back.
Your jaw dropped a little, eyes widening.
Eddie stood up then and turned towards a wheeled cart he had next to him at the front of the Jeep, scowling at the wrench he was holding. Oblivious to the fact he was being watched, he started rooting through the various sized sockets on the cart, his brow furrowed slightly as he compared the sizes to the one he had on the wrench originally. The tip of his tongue was slightly poking out from one corner of his mouth, which is how you could tell when Eddie was really concentrating.
Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in from the front.
His hair was pulled back in a chaotic mess of a bun, his black bandana rolled up and wrapped around his forehead to keep sweat out of his eyes. Drops of sweat trailed down Eddie’s chest and stomach and your eyes couldn’t help but follow one as it rolled down the center of his abdomen. The top half of his coveralls were weighing down the bottom half, making them sag a bit in the front. This pulled them down just enough to display the front of his hips, the trim V cut of his lower abdomen on full display and perfectly framing the start of a dark happy trail that disappeared down into his front of pants.
In all of the chaos and stress of life, the turmoil of being new parents and newlyweds simultaneously, and all of the major change’s life had thrown at you two in such a short amount of time…
You had forgotten exactly how fucking gorgeous your husband is.
All you could do was stand there and gawk at him. The reason for your visit not entirely forgotten, but, for the moment, at the very back of your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to keep letting him work so you could admire the view for a little longer.
Eddie finally gave up trying to find the socket he was looking for on the cart and turned towards the upright toolbox. Halfway to it, he finally looked up to see you standing next to it. He screamed in surprise, dropping the wrench and socket he was holding as he jumped backwards. This in turn scared the hell out of you, making you scream and jump in surprise yourself.
Thankfully, you did not drop the food.
The two of you stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed and breathing heavy after the jump scare you just gave each other.
And then, quite suddenly and unexpected, the distance you had been feeling between you two disappeared.
You both burst into laughing fits at exactly the same moment. It was that deep, soul cleansing laughter that’s sometimes needed just as much as a good cry. Eddie nearly doubled over, body shaking as he tried to get control of it. You felt your stress and anxiety melt away as tears sprang from your eyes.
As your tension and worry eased, a forgotten memory flashed through your mind from your senior year, which had been Eddie’s first. It was right after Hellfire let out and, since you didn’t have a car at the time, you had hurried to get home before it started raining. Unfortunately, after a brief trip to the restroom, you got outside only to discover it was pouring and everyone, but Eddie had already left. When you went back inside to ask him for a ride, you scared the hell out of each other then laughed about it, much like this.
Presently, Eddie scooped up the wrench he dropped, then went back to the cart to turn off his music. Then he turned to you.
“Jesus Christ, Princess!” he said, his voice filled with humor, and then he dramatically started clutching at his chest. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”
“I’m so sorry, babe,” you said, giggling at his theatrics as you wiped tears from your eyes. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, I swear.”
His eyes looked down near your feet, then behind you, brow slightly furrowing in confusion.
“Where’s our little man?” he asked, and you realized he was looking for Eddie Wayne’s car seat or stroller.
“With his grandpa for the night,” you smiled at Eddie, then danced a little in place. “I’ve got the whole evening to myself.”
“Yeah?” he smiled at you softly as he finally made his way over to the toolbox, resuming his search for the correct sized socket. “Then what’s a beautiful girl like you doing messing around in a filthy place like this?”
Even now after all these years of knowing Eddie, whenever he was relaxed enough to fall into his old flirtatious demeanor with you, it still made your heart race just as much as it did back in school.
You briefly held up the paper bag you were holding and gave it just enough of a shake to make the silverware inside rattle around.
“I was just stopping by with some food for my amazing husband so we could have dinner together,” you explained, then a playful smile came to your face. “But then when I saw you, I couldn’t help but get distracted and forget my manners.”
You don’t know why you chose that wording in particular. It just popped into your head and seemed like a fun thing to say in light of how he just caught you staring at him like some love-struck teenager.
The irony of it wasn’t lost on you though. Here you were, down at your husband’s work for the sole purpose of seeing if he was cheating on you, but now here you were flirting with him as if he were just some random hot guy you were thirsting after rather than your actual husband.
While this wasn’t like any of the scenarios you had pictured in your head while on the drive over, you weren’t complaining. Scaring each other and the laughter that followed had put you in a relaxed, easygoing state. It was the perfect mood to put you in the mindset to flirt a little heavy handedly with Eddie.
His head lifted a little so he could look up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. He took you in for a moment, as if trying to figure out what your game here was. But then a playful glimmer came to his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while.
He stood up straight, dropping the wrench he was holding into the open drawer of the toolbox with a clatter.
“Can’t say I was expecting anyone to come by tonight,” he said, dusting his hands off as he looked you over with an intense gaze that made your cheeks flush. “But you’re more than welcome to wait around in the office, see if he turns up. I’ll get washed up, then come keep you company.”
With a wink, Eddie began to head for the sink at in the corner of the garage.
You couldn’t help but blush slightly, then made your way into the office.
The small room was cramped and served as the office and break room. It contained a ratty couch against one wall with a coffee table in front of it, a table against the opposite wall that held a microwave and coffee maker, a desk near the window at the back of the room, and a full-sized refrigerator in the corner. There wasn’t much on the desk aside from extra office supplies but considering what Eddie has said about the owner rarely coming in, that wasn’t surprising.
Forgetting about the flirty banter since you thought that was over with for the night, you started to get dinner laid out for the two of you. You knew it would take Eddie awhile to get his hands and arms scrubbed clean like it always did, and that would give you plenty of time to get everything ready. After warming up the food and finding two sodas in the fridge, you arranged everything on the coffee table so that you two could sit on the couch together while you ate.
Right as you finished setting out the silverware, you heard the office door click shut and the lock twist into place. Smiling, you stood up and turned, your mouth opening in preparation to tease him about how long it always takes him to clean up. Before any words could leave your mouth though, Eddie’s lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
It felt like he was trying to devour you whole, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you before you had the chance to react. You gasped in surprise as his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you tightly to him. Once the surprise wore off though, your response was just as eager, lips moving with his to make the kiss even more intense. Your arms went around his neck, and you pulled him in closer. You softly bit his tongue and Eddie groaned into your mouth, his hips pushing forward against yours. Already you could feel him getting hard in his coveralls.
Since he responded to your choice of words so well, you decided to keep the little game going. You slid your hand up from the back of his neck into his hair and grasped a handful of it. Gently tugging, you used it to pull his head back away from you. He groaned as his lips left yours, letting his head move easily along with the pull.
“I told you I’m a married woman,” you said softly, lips inches from his. “What would my husband think if he were to walk through that door right now?”
It seemed like Eddie was enjoying the game now as much as you were. A tremble went through his body, and one hand slid down from your back to your ass, taking it in a firm hold. He pulled your hips even more firmly against his. Your grip loosened in his hair, and he tilted his head down to look into your eyes.
“Door’s locked up tight, Princess,” he said, his voice low and husky, with a slightly threatening tone woven in. “And no one’s getting through. It’s just you and me now.”
Holding onto you so you wouldn’t trip, Eddie started to walk you backwards. You gave no resistance, letting him lead you until you came to a stop against the edge of the desk. Your bodies were jostled a bit at the impact, your legs inadvertently opening into a wider stance. Eddie claimed the newly empty space by quickly stepping forward to stand between your legs. The firm press of his body against yours made you start to teeter backwards, but his arms squeezed your body tightly to his own, keeping you upright so didn’t fall back onto the desk quite yet.
“Please,” you whimpered, playing up the role of a helpless damsel by letting your head fall back, which only made Eddie bury his face in your neck. “My heart belongs only to him!”
The way you two were standing against the desk put him just at the right angle to grind himself against your entrance. Even through your jeans and his bulky coveralls, you could now feel exactly how much Eddie was liking this little role play with you. His cock was close to rock hard. The feeling of him pressed against you made you bite your lip, and you found yourself suddenly have to swallow a moan as he rolled his hips into yours with purpose. He had caused the seam of your jeans to bear down on your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Your legs jerked a little on either side of Eddie as he did it again, knees quivering as little bursts of electricity traveled through your body from the contact. He was quick to respond, stooping down quickly to pick you up by the backs of your thighs and set you up on the very edge of the desk.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rumbly and low as the tip of his tongue flicked out over the skin on the side of your neck as if he were tasting you. “If it’s only your heart that belongs to him, then your body is all mine for the taking.”
Eddie grazed his teeth on your neck, making you gasp and grip your fingers into his hair again. Falling further into the role, you slipped your other hand between your bodies to rest your palm flat against his chest in a playful attempt to push him away. At this point, Eddie had a firm grip on you and was steadily rocking his hips into yours, grinding his hardness into you over your clothes.
You tried again to push him away again, this time adding just a little bit more force into it. As you did that, your fingers tightened down again in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you like before.
This time, Eddie wasn’t having it.
He pulled away from you of his own accord, but only just enough that he could grab ahold of your wrists, one in each hand. Keeping a tight hold on you, he then threw you backwards onto the desk, holding your hands above your head as he leaned down over you. You cried out in surprise as you landed. With your ass now hanging halfway off the edge of the desk, the sudden movement of your body caused your legs to lift as your body rocked backwards. You took advantage of this by hooking them around Eddie’s hips, trapping him against you as much as you were trapped against him. He grinned down at you, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning back.
After shifting your wrists so he could hold them in one hand, Eddie ran the tips of fingers all the way down your arm until he reached your chest. He softly squeezed one of your tits, playing with it for a moment, before continuing further down between your bodies, not stopping until he reached the front of your pants. Keeping eye contact with you, he slowly started working the buttons of your jeans open one handed.
“That’s it now, be a good girl and just lay back for me,” he cooed down at you, the tone of his voice almost sinful the way it turned you on. “Lay back and I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”
As the last button on your jeans came open, you felt his hand slide into the opening of the denim, fingers caressing the fabric of your underwear.
You let your eyes drift open more, looking up at him and finally taking in his full expression. Eddie’s face was a mask of lust, his dilated eyes intent as he gazed down at you.
You could tell he was close to letting go. That fact alone was enough to make you even more excited. Your sex life with Eddie had never really been that wild, if you were being honest. There hadn’t been too many times that he had really let go of himself while being intimate with you. The first time in his van, the first time after giving birth once you’d healed, and a couple of random times after Eddie had gone out for a few drinks with the guys. You enjoyed the hell out of it every single time and only wished it happened more often.
This was definitely an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
Jutting your chin out, you lifted your head up in a prideful way as you playfully glared into his eyes.
“Do what you will to me,” you said with a defiant tone. “But the only name I’ll be screaming tonight is Eddie’s.”
The grin that spread across Eddie’s face at that made your heart nearly stop.
“Oh sweetheart,” he said, then leaned down so his lips were just an inch from yours. “I’m fully counting on that.”
You weren’t given the chance to reply.
Eddie brought his lips down on yours, the kiss every bit as deep and intense as before. There was no pause this time before you were returning it, your mouth eagerly opening for his. You captured his bottom lip in your teeth, not biting hard enough to draw blood but more to make sure you had his full attention.
But you didn’t have to worry about that. As your teeth were sinking into Eddie’s lip, two of his fingers were slipping past your underwear to pull them aside. His grunt at the feeling of your bite was met by a soft moan from you as he ran his fingers through your folds and began teasing your entrance.
“Always so wet for me,” he muttered against your lips, sounding more like he was talking to himself.
Any reply to you could have given would’ve been lost on your tongue as Eddie slid his middle finger into you. It met no resistance, your wetness easily letting him slide in up to the third knuckle. Since you were already so worked up, he didn’t have to build up to it before starting to finger you at a steady pace. Your eyes closed as you moaned, head tilting back to give him access once again to your neck. He eagerly took advantage of this, his lips coming down to start kissing and sucking on the exposed skin. You could tell just from the pressure that he was deliberately marking you up.
Then, as he licked across the front of your throat to start making his way to the other side of your neck, he stopped the motions of his hand for just a second in order to sink a second finger into you.
You gasped, moaning loudly as your legs tightened around him to hold yourself in that position. He moved his fingers at the same steady pace, his lips sucking at this side of your neck now to leave marks that would match the ones now on the other side.
Being with Eddie as infrequently as you were made it was easy to forget just how good in bed he was. Even the halfhearted and tired sex that was the normal with him was far better than anyone else you’d been with. It wasn’t until this very moment as he curled his fingers inside you that you realized just how pent up you’d been. Getting yourself off for the last few weeks hadn’t cut it as much as you’d thought.
Thanks to the slow pace he had to keep due to the confines of your jeans, the heel of his hand was rubbing against your clit with every inward thrust of his fingers. It didn’t take long before your orgasm built, and you were about to crest its edge.
Right when your inner walls started to tighten around his fingers, Eddie ripped his hand out of your jeans and pulled himself completely away from you. You gasped, clenching around nothing, and aching from the denied orgasm.
“E-Eddie, please,” you gasped, near tears as your body lay trembling on the desk.
“M’sorry, I need you,” he panted, taking ahold of the waist band of your jeans. “Need to feel you clenching around me. Been way too long.”
Eddie quickly pulled your pants and underwear down your legs at the same time. Your shoes slipped off easily when he pulled them off, and the entire bundle was quickly discarded to the office floor. He stepped forward to stand between your legs again, his warm hands caressing your now bare thighs.
A soft sigh left your lips as he touched you, then you watched as he took one hand away to start working himself free of the coveralls. Eddie ended up struggling with them for a moment, having to really work to get one more button undone before he was finally able to push them down past his ass. You leaned up a bit on your forearms, watching as his boxers went next and his hard cock sprang free to lay along your slit.
You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling, still sensitive from being so close to orgasm. He gave two slow rolls of his hips, dragging the length of his cock across your clit and electing a high-pitched cry from you. Eddie grasped the base of his cock then and tapped the leaking tip on your clit, making you jump slightly, before he slowly began dragging the head through your wet folds. You whimpered, your hips arching up off the desk towards him. He pushed you back down with one hand while he lined himself up with the other. With a slow, firm movement of his hips, Eddie’s hard length began to slide into your cunt.
A loud cry of pleasure left you as your head thumped back on the desk. Since he took his time, you could feel every inch of him. He paused halfway, shifting his stance, and lifting one of your legs higher around his torso before pushing in the rest of the way. You both groaned deeply at the feeling of him bottoming out. It had indeed been too long, your body had to adjust to him again. Luckily, it only took a moment, and as soon as Eddie felt you begin to relax, he began to move.
He started out with slow, but deep, thrusts, dragging his cock through your throbbing heat. You moaned, panting as you clutched at the opposite edge of the desk just above your head. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, you watched him as he stared open mouthed at where your bodies met, transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he moaned suddenly, a shudder going through his body as he spoke. “S-so fucking hot. H-How’d I get so lucky?”
Eddie paused briefly to shift his stance and to move your leg up higher, over his shoulder even. Gripping your hips with both hands, he began thrusting with renewed purpose. This new angle had his cock hitting even deeper than before. You gasped as the head rubbed against your most sensitive places, including that one rough, spongy area that always made your toes curl.
“Fuck, God, Eddie, right there!” you screamed, already at the edge again. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
Not stopping this time, Eddie’s thrusting became faster, more frantic. One hand moved from your hip to slide between you, and he started rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. You moaned a string of curses, feeling yourself starting to clench around his cock.
“J-Jesus, that’s it,” Eddie panted, leaning over so he had one hand resting flat on the desk next to your head, the other rubbing your clit faster. “Fuck! Cum for me, squeeze my cock with that tight cunt of yours.”
That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You threw your head back and screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your cunt clamping down around him just as he wanted. Eddie wasn’t far behind, his thrusting growing erratic before he was cussing and groaning your name. With how sensitive you were, you swore you could feel his cock pulsing, then spurting as he came, painting your insides with his full load.
Eddie tried to fuck you both through your orgasms, but he had gotten too sensitive. It really had been too long. After a soft gasp that sounded close to a yelp, his motions stilled. Still buried deep inside you, his body trembled just as much as yours did as you both came down from your highs.
Once he had caught his breath, he moved to gently lower your leg from his shoulder to around his waist but stayed inside you. Leaning over, he bent down to you, one hand softly cupping the side of your face as he kissed you. The kiss was warm, tender; a loving contrast to the primal fucking that just occurred. He kissed you a few more times before sliding out of you and helping you up.
You both were giggling as you got dressed, grinning like idiots at each other and blushing. It was as if you were kids again and had just gotten away with doing something very bad. Which, technically, you did, you supposed. After all, having sex on the boss’s desk probably wasn’t looked highly upon, no matter the circumstances.
With appetites worked up, you both finally dug into dinner, with Eddie dramatically moaning in pleasure at the first few bites before you fell into an easy conversation. Eddie asked what you and Eddie Wayne got up to that day. You told him all about everything your son did, then he surprised you by asking specifically how your day was. He surprised you again when you asked Eddie about his day, and he actually started talking about it. That was a first. You had to ask a few questions here and there when he used a term you didn’t understand, but it was all pretty interesting.
Suddenly, in the middle of a story, Eddie broke himself off and smiled sheepishly at you.
“Sorry, Princess,” he said, looking like he was afraid you might be annoyed. “I know you don’t understand most of this. That’s why I try not to talk much about work.”
You blinked a few times in surprise, then shook your head.
“No, Eddie,” you said, looking at him warmly. “I love hearing about your day. If I don’t get something, I’ll ask about it if I’m curious enough.”
Relief came over Eddie’s features and he leaned over to give you a soft kiss.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence then as you ate. But that gave your brain the opportunity to go back to the original reason for your visit. Once it was back at the forefront of your mind, it began to gnaw at you once again, even in your post sex bliss.
Knowing this wouldn’t go away on its own, you decided it was time to just address it directly. The town could say what they wanted and didn’t need to know your business, but the air needed to be clear between the two of you, at least.
“So, I’ve been hearing a new rumor about you around town,” you said, keeping the tone of your voice playful, just like any other time you’ve filled him in on the latest gossip about yourselves. “And it’s a really juicy one this time, too.”
“Yeah?” he said, quirking a brow at you as he chewed a bite of food. “Do tell.”
You felt your nerves come up but didn’t let it show. Instead, you looked around conspiratorially and leaned closer to Eddie. Playing along, Eddie leaned closer to you too, tilting his ear towards you to listen. You cupped his ear with one hand, as if trying to keep a secret
“Word around the campfire,” you whispered, pausing for dramatic effect. “Is that you’re fucking around on me.”
Eddie snort laughed so hard he ended up choking on his own spit. As he lapsed into a coughing fit and you pounded him on the back, you couldn’t help but feel relieved already just based on his reaction.
“Those old bats, I swear,” he finally said, gasping for air as he wiped the tears from coughing off his cheeks. “I don’t have the energy to see you nearly as much as I’d like, much less the time to work in a side piece.” He paused to take a bite and continued on as he chewed. “When do they think I have the time? When I’m able to sleep? No thanks. I like what little sleep I do get.”
It was so casual the way Eddie spoke, not even thinking about what he was saying. There was no filter behind those words, nothing but the straight, stream of conscious Thoughts by Eddie. And so, it hit you straight in the heart, making it skip around a few times.
“That’s a very good point,” you said, unable to stop yourself from chuckling at yourself for even entertaining the idea seriously.
Eddie chuckled, then looked over at you with a grin.
“They say the same thing about you, you know,” he said, then took another bite as he watched for your reaction.
Now it was your turn to choke, though you choked on your food, and Eddie pounded you on the back until you got through it.
“For real?” you asked once the coughing fit was over. “When did those start?”
“Not too long after the wedding,” he replied, grabbing your soda to hand it to you. “Apparently, you’ve been fucking anyone they see come around the house, including the mailman, since day one.”
Your mouth dropped open in shock. That was a new one on you. It certainly explained some of the flat glares and head shakes you’d occasionally gotten since you two got married. You never paid much attention to them when it happened, thinking it was about something stupid.
As it turns out, you were right.
“As if I’d really cheat on the guy I’ve been crushing on since the sixth grade,” you scoffed, then took a drink of your soda. “There would be no sense in it. Besides that, pretty much like you said, when would I have the ti-“
“Wait, what?”
You looked over at Eddie to find him staring at you with a shocked expression and his fork halfway to his mouth.
“What?” you asked, not sure what he was asking about.
Eddie tossed the fork into his bowl, set it on the table and turned to you.
“We’ve been married for,” he said, then stopped to think for a moment. “Just over two years now and this is the first I’m hearing about you having a crush on me?”
You blinked at him in surprise, your eyebrows going up.
“I didn’t figure it mattered once we were married,” you said, shrugging. “We’re together now, so I didn’t think it needed to be said.”
The expression of shock on Eddie’s face would’ve been funny had you not known it was completely genuine.
“Princess, that would’ve been really helpful to know a long time ago,” he said, the tone of his voice incredulous and slightly shaky. “I’ve spent these past two years worried about if I really made you happy. I honestly keep wondering if you really want to be with me, or if you only agreed to marrying me because you didn’t want the stigma of being a single mom on top of being the town freak’s whore.”
There was no trace of cruelty in his voice since Eddie wasn’t calling you that name to be mean. That was something people started calling you near the end of junior year. By senior year, it had stuck, and you got called it every day until graduation. Some of the old bullies still liked to shout it at you when they saw you out. It was part of the reason why you didn’t like to leave the house most days unless you absolutely had to for errands.
“Admittedly, that thought did cross my mind,” you said, then sat your own bowl on the table to turn to him. “But I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t really want to marry you, baby or no. If you were the type of man that would’ve made me miserable, I’d still be at my parents’ house.”
The smile that came to Eddie’s face then could’ve lit up the entire garage. One of his hands came up to softly stroke the side of your face as he gazed at you fondly.
“And I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t truly want to,” he said. “Baby or no.”
You moved one hand to rest it on his leg, giving it a soft squeeze, as he leaned in to kiss you.
As the kiss gradually started to ramp up from loving to more intense, Eddie pulled away slightly, looking at you with a worried expression.
“Does this mean I can touch you more?” he asked, sounding unsure of himself suddenly as he started to ramble. “I thought you didn’t really want me to, so I never do, but, god, it’s all I’ve wanted to do since ninth grade, and I want to so much it drives me fucking crazy sometimes.”
Your cheeks blushed a bright pink at Eddie’s admission. It was a good feeling knowing he desired you as much as you did him, and your heart soared knowing he felt as deeply for you too. This hadn’t been a marriage of convenience for either of you, after all.
Taking his face in both of your hands, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, pulling back at the end to gaze into his eyes.
“Baby, you’ve always been able touch me,” you said softly. “Whenever you want and in whatever way you want.”
A grin spread across Eddie’s face, the glint you saw out in the garage coming back to his eyes. His hands found their way up to your shoulders and he pushed you onto your back on the couch. Climbing on top of you less than a second later, he laid himself between your legs, his lips finding their way to yours once again.
Like always, the town rumors about Eddie had turned out to be nothing more than falsehoods thanks to bored rumor mongering. There was absolutely nothing wrong with your marriage apart from the fact neither of you had properly communicating your needs and desires. And that was something both of you recognized now. The two of you made a vow to each other that very night, right there on his boss’s couch, promising to be more open with your feelings and thoughts.
And, as it turns out, you were given the opportunity to put those newfound communication skills to the test soon enough. When you left the garage that night, you left with more than just hearts in your eyes and very sore legs.
Just over three weeks later, another little white stick turned blue.
Oh, how the rumor mill had a field day with that one.
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idkfitememate · 4 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)
“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.
Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.
And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.
Anyway-
Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.
So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.
Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.
You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.
Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.
People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.
“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.
“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.
It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*
Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.
“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.
“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.
“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.
“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.
You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.
You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.
You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.
“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.
You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.
Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.
Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.
An otter.
Could understand them perfectly.
You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.
But you could understand everything.
You could understand what a god couldn’t.
And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.
He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.
Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.
In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.
It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.
The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…
A veil.
A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.
On any statue.
In any painting.
In any description in every book.
They always had a veil.
And glancing at their beloved otter?
Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?
Created a veil.
“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.
You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.
“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”
You only chittered in response.
And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.
“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.
“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.
“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”
Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~
Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა
* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse
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lynaferns · 10 months
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FNAF Steampunk AU
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That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.
I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.
So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.
Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.
If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:
All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).
Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.
DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.
Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.
Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.
Burntrap also apeared more.
All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.
Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).
Also, first idea and some doodles.
Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.
Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"
Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"
Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"
Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.
Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.
The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.
Sun-"..." "Gregory"
Gregory-"..."
Sun-"come on, say it"
Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"
Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.
They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.
Moon-"go gator boy"
Monty-"I hate you"
One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.
(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)
The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.
Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?
Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”
Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”
There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)
Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months
Text
grown up (pg10)
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pierre x leclerc!reader , slight lando x leclerc!reader
summary: you’ve always had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, little do you know he’s crazy about you too
notes: !! contains smut, minors dni !! this trope is too good to not do with pierre, there’s a tiny age gap here (3 years) also i kept pierre in alpha tauri
warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of physical violence (not against reader), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving)
Pierre Gasly was a forbidden fruit. As kids he was constantly attached at the hip to your older brother Charles, the two became partners in crime whilst karting together, and had stayed thick as thieves even in Formula One.
You practically watched each other grow up. You were in the stands as he made his way through karting all the way up to Formula One, driving for Toro Rosso, then Red Bull, and now Alpha Tauri.
He was always there with your brother for special events. He watched as you not only got older, but as you matured. He watched as you grew into your figure, curves appearing in all the right places. What was once a little kid, constantly chasing her brother around had turned into a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially not with your overprotective brother keeping you close.
It seemed Charles had also noticed that you’d grown up, or at least noticed all of the new male attention you’ve acquired. He keeps an arm over your shoulders in the paddock, sending a glare to any guys who would give you a once over.
As hard as he tried though, he couldn’t stop you from dating the few guys that had caught your attention as well. Pierre remembers them all.
The first was clearly looking for something casual, the relationship ending with you crying on Charles’ shoulder.
The next was one that ended up cheating on you. You had to make Charles promise that he wasn’t going to try to fight him, but you didn’t have any control over Pierre. You asked him about the bruises on his knuckles when you saw him next, holding his hands in yours and inspecting the damaged skin. He wouldn’t tell a soul but he felt his heart stutter as you held his larger, rougher hands in your small soft ones. When he came out of his you-induced trance, he just shrugged claiming the bruises were from training.
You had actually thought it was going to work out with the most recent one. He was sweet, he was loyal, the only issue was he was going off to university while you were traveling with Charles. The long distance made it difficult, the two of you had a mutual break up because of it.
Pierre hated that he had to watch you date all of these guys that just seemed either incompatible with you or just took advantage of you. Or both. And he was forced to watch from the sidelines.
It was time for the Monaco Grand Prix, which meant that it was the one time of year you didn’t have to travel anywhere. Charles had opted to forgo the hotel that was offered, instead choosing to stay home with you. He invited Pierre to stay with the two of you as well, offering his best friend the spare guest room.
It was strange having Pierre so close to you at first. You would bump into him on your way to the bathroom, make your breakfast together in the kitchen, share a car to and from the track. You quickly became used to having his presence around though, enjoying the shared breakfasts, and midnight chats in the kitchen.
The race had ended with both boys in the points, though neither on the podium. You all went out to celebrate though, the three of you and most of the other drivers with their girlfriends.
Pierre spent the night watching you from afar, dancing with Lily, then with Carmen, then back to Lily. The drink in your hand sloshing around in the glass as you danced. He was happy to watch you dance with the girls, a bright smile on your face as you twirled around with them. It wasn’t until he saw Lando reach for you that he started to feel uncomfortable.
Lando was behind you, his hands on your hips, far too close for Pierre’s liking. It was then that he came to the conclusion that your dress was far too short. It showed too much of your legs. And the neckline was far too low, giving Lando a perfect view of your chest over your shoulder.
Your hand reached up behind you to tangle itself in Lando’s curls, and Pierre thought he might actually commit a crime.
He glances over at Charles who seems distracted, busy conversing or more so listening to Max. When he turns back to look at you, you’ve turned around, now facing Lando as you dance together.
Your hands are pressed against his chest while his are resting on your hips. Your foreheads are pressed together. You catch Lando’s eyes glancing down at your lips. He leans forward, and you let him, closing your eyes.
You can feel his lips brush against yours when you’re suddenly pulled away from him. Pierre’s got a hand on your arm, and a scowl on his face as he practically glares at Lando.
“We’re going home.” He says, before pulling you to the exit, his hand slips down to grasp yours.
“What about Charles?” You ask as you weave through groups of people in an attempt to keep up with Pierre’s quick steps.
“I told him you weren’t feeling well.” He answers, still pulling you along to his car outside.
The ride back to yours and Charles’ Monaco apartment is quiet. Pierre’s got a tight grip on the steering wheel as he keeps his eyes locked ahead. You pout quietly in the passenger seat, occasionally sparing a glance at the Frenchman beside you.
You follow him back upstairs to the apartment where he waits for you to unlock the door. Once inside he brushes past you and throws his coat on the couch. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water pushing it into your hands.
“Drink it.” He says, pulling one out for himself as well.
“I’m not drunk.” You quietly tell him as you unscrew the cap.
He scoffs. “You were drunk enough to think that grinding against Lando was a good idea.”
A smirk grows on your face. You take slow steps towards him. “Are you jealous Pierre?”
“Why would I be jealous? You’re just a kid.” He’s quick to snap.
His answer strikes a nerve, but you persist. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lando is closer to may age. Just a year younger than me. Maybe I should give him a call, finish what we started.”
His lips are on yours within a second. The kiss is hungry, fueled with fire and the need to finally express the feelings you’ve both had for so long. He pushes you up against the kitchen counter, slotting a leg between yours.
You whimper into the kiss as his leg pushes against your center, your dress sliding up and revealing more skin to him.
Your hands find his hair as his find the bottom of your dress. His fingers trail up your legs to toy with the waistband of your panties.
“Bedroom.” You manage to breathe out in between kisses.
He lifts you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist and walks you both to your bedroom. You can feel the tent growing in his pants as he pushes himself against you.
He kicks the door shut behind him, and drops you on your bed. Clothes are torn off the two of you, thrown to different corners of the room until you’re both just in your underwear.
He dives down to kiss you again, laying between your legs. One of his hands strokes the skin of your thigh, pulling it around him.
You continue to kiss each other, your tongues seemingly dance with each other as he softly starts to thrust his hips against yours. His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbone. He reaches a hand behind you and unlatches your bra, throwing it somewhere behind him.
He brushes a hand over one of your breasts, his fingers softly grazing your nipple. He leans down to kiss along your chest, his teeth marking up your skin as he goes.
“You’ve grown up quite a bit, huh?” He murmurs as he pays equal attention to both breasts.
“I’m not a little kid Pierre.” You roll your eyes at him, but let out a soft moan as he lets his teeth bite softly at one of your nipples.
“That’s for sure.” He says, continuing his journey down your body.
Once again his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your panties. He uses his arms to spread your legs for him, giving him a perfect view of the wet patch that’s grown on your underwear.
“So wet for me chéri?” He presses his fingers against the wet fabric, teasing you through your underwear.
“Should we talk about the tent you’ve got?” You lightly kick his back.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Alright, alright.” His hands move back to the top of your underwear but pause. He looks back up at your face. “Are you sure you want this?”
You do want this, you know you want this. But part of you can’t help but think of your brother, or Pierre’s best friend. This could make things messy for everyone, that is if Charles doesn’t murder Pierre.
You look back down at the man between your legs. Sincerity swims around in the green eyes that stare back at you. You know he’ll back off if you tell him no. That this can all fade away, never to be mentioned again. Or you can grab onto this moment and not let it go, throw caution to the wind.
You nod and give him a soft smile. “I’m sure.”
He returns his own smile, then slowly peels your panties off of you. He tosses them near the pile of his clothes. “I’m keeping those.” He gives your thigh a kiss.
You let out a sigh as his fingers stroke your folds. The sigh turns into a whimper when he lightly taps against your clit.
“So sensitive ma chéri.” He smirks.
He slowly pushes his middle finger into you, pressing against your walls. Your thighs tighten around him as he works his finger in and out of you, then adds another.
You moan out his name as he starts to press against the spongey spot inside you.
“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He climbs back up your body to kiss you again, stealing your moans from your mouth.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. You push against his chest so he’s looking at you.
“Pierre, I need you inside me.”
He pulls his fingers out of you and raises them to his mouth, sucking your wetness off of them.
“You taste so good chéri.” He practically moans.
You reach out to pull his boxers down. His cock slaps his abdomen as he kicks his underwear away.
You can see the bead of precum that’s gathered on his tip. You spread it over him with a finger, then pump his cock a few times.
Pierre’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” He groans.
You lay back down, pulling him down with you. He looks down between the two of you and holds his cock at your entrance. He looks back up at you, silently asking one more time if you’re sure you want this with him. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck.
He notches the head of his cock in you, then slowly pushes himself in. You take a few deep breathes, closing your eyes.
The stretch to fit him is a lot. It didn’t hurt, but his size was more than you were used to accommodating.
When he finally bottoms out, he pauses, giving you a moment. He rests his forehead against yours, pressing soft kisses against your face as you get used to his size.
“You can move.” You murmur.
He pulls himself away then pushes himself back in, creating a rhythm for the two of you.
He’s going slow, too slow. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, and so warm.” He moans, his head falling down to your shoulder as his thrusts speed up.
He nips at your shoulder, his teeth creating small dents in the skin.
As his thrusts speed up you can feel him get deeper and deeper until the head of his cock hits the perfect place inside you. You yelp as you clench around him even tighter.
“You feel so good Pierre. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You moan.
He reaches a hand down between you to rub at your clit, quickly sending you over the edge.
Your release triggers his, his cum coating your walls as he drags your orgasms out.
You’re both breathing heavily when you’re finished, clinging onto each other like a lifeline. You unwrap your legs from around him, the muscles tense from your activities.
He softly pulls out of you, causing you to whimper at the now empty feeling between your legs. His cock is soft now, the base coated in a creamy looking white substance, a mix of your releases.
He get up off the bed and goes to your bathroom, when he returns he’s holding a wash cloth in his hand. He cleans you up, apologizing when you wince from the sensitivity.
He goes back to the bathroom to dispose of the wash cloth, then comes back and gets back in bed with you.
He pulls you to his chest and sighs, staring up at your ceiling. Your fingers fiddle with his as you lay in silence.
You sigh. “We’re going to have to talk about this.” You break the silence.
“I know.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now I just want to enjoy holding you in my arms.”
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep, letting the worries of your relationship status fade away for the night.
When you wake up Pierre’s got a tight hold on you. His face is buried in your neck, his arms locked around your torso.
You watch as he sleeps, his soft snores coming out in rhythmic beats. You lift a hand to softly run through his hair, the golden brown strands are soft between your fingers. Your hand traces down his face, over his cheekbone, then to his lips.
His breath hitches as his eyes flutter open. A lazy smile grows on his face as he looks at you.
“Good morning ma chéri.” His voice is deep with sleep.
“Good morning Pierre.” You smile.
As much as you want to bask in the energy of an early morning cuddle session with Pierre, you know you need to talk about last night, about what last night means to you now.
“So…” You trail off.
“So?” He asks, nudging your jaw with his nose, clearly looking for some affection from you.
“So, are we going to talk about last night?” You’re scared of what he’ll say, but you know this is a discussion you need to have.
“Last night was fun.”
Your heart drops. Last night was fun? That’s all he has to say?
“Pierre-”
“I meant what I said. About wanting to do that for so long.” He kisses down your neck, his eyes finding the light purple marks he left along your skin the previous night.
You lift his chin so he’s looking into your eyes again.
“Was that just a one time thing? Because I don’t think I can do this if it was Pierre. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, but I don��t want to give you my heart if you’re just going to break it.”
His eyebrows furrow. How could you possibly think he would break your heart?
“No mon amour, no.” He cups your face in his hands. “I have been in love with you since we were kids, since Charles introduced us. I know that it’s going to be hard working this out with your brother, but I’d like to, if you’ll have me.”
You grin, rolling on top of him and cover his faces in kisses.
You moment of joy is cut short when you hear a knocking on your door.
“Y/n?” Charles’ voice calls from the other side.
The door starts to open as you roughly push Pierre under your bedsheets.
“I’m changing!” You shout at your brother.
Charles freezes, leaving the door only cracked open.
Pierre sighs, running his hand up and down your leg. An idea comes to him, an evil, risky idea. He crawls further down, and throws your legs over his shoulders. He licks a long stripe through your folds, grinning when he hears you gasp and feels a hand grip his hair.
“Pierre said you weren’t feeling well, how are you feeling now?” Charles asks through the door.
Your eyes roll back as Pierre sucks your clit into his mouth, toying with the little bundle of nerves.
“Y/n?”
“Good! Good, I feel good.” You hope your words don’t sound like a moan.
“Alright, well I’m going to go get some breakfast, would you like to join me?” Charles asks.
“No, no. You go. I’ll stay.” You manage to get out.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” He closes your door again, you can hear his footsteps disappear in the apartment.
You give Pierre’s back a harsh kick, to which he groans, then crawls up out from under the sheets.
“That hurt!” He groans.
“Well I don’t think eating me out in front of my brother is a good way to get him onboard with our relationship.” You scoff.
“So we’re in a relationship now? Officially? You’re asking me to be your boyfriend?” He smirks, wrapping himself around you again.
“I hate you.” You say, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face.
“I love you too.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Chapter 11 - One Last Time
Welcome, welcome, welcome to the finale of the 2023 season. I thought a lot about possibly making a chapter for the final F1 race, but reader would basically be doing nothing. So enjoy this tear-jerker read! 
ATTENTION: TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Well, here you were. Back for the third and final time. It was bittersweet if anything. You knew you’d probably cry, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be until later. 
A win would be preferable, but you knew how races went. Anything was up for grabs. Christian had bid you goodbye when you left Vegas to head here. You knew that they probably wouldn’t be able to come, since the Formula 1 season was also ending very soon. You’d be fine. Plus, you’d done this multiple times before. Normally, you never invited anyone to come watch you. There really wasn’t anyone you wanted to invite in the first place. 
No family and no friends outside the F1 world. What was the point. But, you were basically driving with your best friend every weekend. He would just have to watch your tail lights though. 
The sprint was already done and you had bagged another win. You hoped to turn this weekend into a grand slam. It wouldn’t be your first one, but it would be the last on in F2. You had gotten pole and you won the initial sprint race. Arthur was behind you the entire time. 
Speaking of Arthur, you didn’t know where he had run off to. You decided on that his family had probably come to watch the end of his first F2 season. It was nice to know that they really cared like that. 
You walked around the paddock with your race suit on your hips and sun glasses on your nose. It wasn’t terribly hot, but the sun was going to do some damage if you stayed outside for too long. You stopped along the gates to sign some thing for fans. Quite a few of them were now wearing Red Bull merch instead of the normal Dams ones. It felt good inside to see that they were now going to be interested in watch your F1 career and not just staying for F2. 
You had to say goodbye after a few moments, and you left with lots of friendship bracelets on your wrists. You were going to have to take them off before you got into the car, but you wanted to keep them on for a bit. 
A couple of reporters stopped you as you made your way back to your garage where your car was sitting. They barely asked any questions, seeming to know that you had to get back. You thanked them for their swiftness and continued down the pit area. Most garages were filled to the brim, but not as much as the ones had in Vegas. There, celebrities seemed to drip from every crevasse. 
As you got closer to the garage, you heard multiple familiar laughs. 
It couldn’t be. 
You hastened your steps and were almost brought to tears by the sight. Max, Christian, Geri, and Mitch were all there by the computer wall, donning Dams merchandise with your number on it. They seemed to be too caught up in their conversation to notice you at first. 
You looked behind you, saw that there was no one, backed up a bit, and launched forward in Max’s direction. You leaped onto his back and squeezed him tight. His shoulders tightened before he heard your laugh. 
“Hi kid,” he said, craning his neck to try to see you. But, you were overcome with lots of emotions and you didn’t want him to see you cry this early, so you just buried your face in his shoulder. Said shoulders moved up and down with another laugh. 
“I’ll wipe my tears on your shirt if you keep laughing at me,” you muttered, trying to threaten the other driver. 
“No you will not.” Max let you hang for a bit. “You know, I think Christian also wants a hug.” 
You raised your head and looked at the gray-haired Brit. You quickly clamored over to Christian and brought him into an even bigger hug. You murmured something to him, but he wasn’t able to pick it up so he just squeezed you tighter. You let go and hugged Geri as well, thanking her for coming. 
You met Mitch with open arms and maybe more tears. You finally finished with all the greetings before you pulled back. 
“Why are you all here? Like, I’m thankful, but isn’t there a race soon that you need to be preparing for?” 
Max and Christian laughed. Max explained, “Kid. It’s your last race, why wouldn’t we come?” 
You really didn’t understand why they wanted to. 
Christian slapped a hand on Max’s shoulder, “And Max here skipped F2 completely and has never seen a race before or the car. Why don’t you tell him about it.” 
Your eyes sparkled. Max wanted to complain and tell you that he did know how an F2 car worked, but the moment he saw your hopefulness, his lips were sealed. He offered his hand and followed as you led him over to your car. The moment you started talking, your hands started flying. Max just nodded along to everything you said while the others were watching the two of you with so much love. 
Vito had been able to enter the garage and was amused at the sight. He walked over to Christian. “Thank you for coming. It means the world to her. Let me pay you back for the early tickets.” 
Christian waved his hand, “There’s no need.” 
Their side of the garage was silent before Vito spoke up again, “You know, this is her first race since 2018 that someone came to watch her.” The adults’ hearts dropped. 
Mitch spoke, “I thought her godfather died in 2020?”
Vito nodded, “He did. But because of his illness and medication, he wasn’t able to come watch her at all. The last race he went to was the middle of her F3 season.” 
It was Geri’s turn to speak, “Surely she has had someone? A friend? Family?” 
The four of them looked at you and Max. Somehow Max had shimmied into your seat and you leaned over, fingers pointing to the various buttons. 
A sigh escaped Vito’s lips, “She was disowned in early 2018.” 
Geri gasped and Christian let out a big sigh. Mitch continued to watch your face light up with glee as you tried to put your helmet on Max’s head. It wasn’t going very well and Max was trying to bat your hands away. She was thinking of how a child so filled with light had been able to go through so much. 
“Please don’t tell her I told you. She wouldn’t want Max to know. She has looked up to him since her karting days, and I know Max wouldn’t, but she wouldn’t want him to look at her differently.” 
You were now helping Max get out of the car. The four watched as Max carefully helped you put your helmet on, his fingers doing the clasp under your chin. He fondly placed his hand on the top and wiggled it. Your hands flew up to stop him. And even though it was muffled by the helmet, your laugh filled the room. 
Christian was about to say something, but the entrance of Arthur and his family stopped him. He could message Vito later to see what exactly you needed. Because he was willing to do anything for you. 
Your head whipped at the sound of Arthur’s laugh and you stumbled over to him. Everyone watched as you did your little pre-race handshake that the two of you insisted on needing. You forgot something very important and you turned back to Max with arms out. 
“How do I look?” Max, and the others, finally got a good look at your race suit. It was different. The regular Dams one had been replaced by the Red Bull navy and familiar logo. You looked at home in the suit. “Arthur has one too. Well, not a RB one.” You pointed to the red clashed boy. 
His suit looked almost identical to the Ferrari one that Charles normally wears. Except the Dams logo was across the front, same as yours. 
“I love it kid. But you couldn’t have told me before? I could have been wearing my regular polo,” Max whined and you shooshed. 
“Max, I hate to tell you, actually I don’t hate it, you need to hear it. You need better clothes.” Max deadpanned at you and Charles’ laugh filled the air. Your helmet clad head turned towards him as well. 
“Oh don’t get me started on you. Next time you’re in Texas, for the love of everything, take you pant legs out of the boots! They go over the boots, hence the name bootcut.” That shut him up, but Arthur started to laugh.
The others joined in too, but were interrupted by the signal that you needed to get into your car. Max quickly hugged you before lighting pushing you towards the vehicle. You climbed over the halo and situated yourself as the mechanics lowered your car to the ground. Mitch was given the opportunity to hand you the steering wheel. You knew she wouldn’t be able to talk you through the race, but you had asked her to do something for you after you crossed the finish line. 
You taxied your car to the P1 spot and waited on the grid. Once the lights went out for the formation lap, you quickly started to warm up your tires. You bobbed and weaved all over the track, Arthur doing the same right behind you. 
You seemed to just glide over the track with how smooth your steering was. You finally arrived back to the starting grid and you braked. The other cars filled up behind you, and you knew this was it. 
Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. 
Go. 
Your foot hit the throttle and off you were. Your reaction time was phenomenal. Max watched as you started to pull away from the others, maximizing the corners. You were flying on the straights. 
It seemed to be going so well for the first half until you hit a kerb and the back of your car went spinning. Your Dams engineer was the first to reach you. By now, two cars had gone past you by the time you got back onto the track. 
“Y/n talk to me.” 
Your voice was rattly as you responded, “I think my left back tire is damaged. Box, box.” You had wanted to go a bit further on your current tires, but it just wasn’t possible. You needed to make one mandatory stop during the race and it would have to be now. 
You finally got to the pit lane and were able to get back out in P5. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t horrible. 
Max and Christian were biting their nails, hoping that you’d be able to make a comeback. You were the first to pit and you’d use that to your advantage. On the new tires, you were able to climb back to P2. Using the early strategy, Arthur had pitted almost right behind you and was now in P3. 
The one car in front of you was forced to pit as it neared the 10 minute mark. You could do this, but Arthur was gaining. You pressed the button on the radio. “Gap to Leclerc?” 
“Currently 1.783 seconds but is gaining.” 
You seemed to press the throttle a bit more on the corners. You loved Arthur but he was not going to get any DRS from you and use it against you. The adults in the garage watched at you flew around the corners.
Your strategist clicked the radio, “Easy with the balance.” 
“Please not talking during the corners. I know what I’m doing.” You went around another bend. Five minutes remained. 
Three minutes. 
“Gap to Leclerc is 2.004 seconds.” You jerked your car around a tight curve and almost went over the track limits. 
“No talking in the turns!” 
“Understood.” Max and Christian bit back smiles. That sounded familiar. 
Two minutes. 
One minute. 
Thirty seconds. 
Your car crossed over the finish line with a gap of 5 seconds. Your screams could be heard over the radio as Max and Christian all but jumped into each other’s arms. 
Your voice suddenly filled the air, “Is Mitch there?” 
Your engineer made room for her. “I’m here kid. Want me to do the thing?” 
“Yes please.” 
Max groaned, “Please let it not be Life is a Highway. I’ve been singing that in my sleep with how much she plays it.” 
Mitch pushed play and the voice of Ariana Grande filled the speaker, along with your shaky voice. 
“One last time, I need to be, the one, who takes you home. One more time, I promise after that, I’ll let you go!” You waived at the crowds as you pulled your car into the P1 spot. You stood on your car and raised your fists as you yelled. Your head whipped towards your crew and you immediately made eye contact with two blue eyes. You leaped from the nose and ran to those arms. 
“I did it Max! I won!” Your voice was shaky. Max pulled back from the hug and patted your helmet. 
“I am so proud of you, Kleintje.” (translation : little one)  
You walked down the line, hugging other members of your crew. The last one you hugged was Christian, who barely let you go. 
Turning around you were met with the helmet of your best friend. You looked through his visor and noticed tears in his eyes. You quickly brought him into a hug. 
Your helmets clinked as you met, but you didn’t care. You pulled back at arm’s length and pointed at him. 
“Now that I’m gone, I expect a championship for you next year TurTur.” He laughed hard. 
“How am I supposed to if you’re not here with me?” Your heart may have broken. 
“What are you talking about. I’m always here,” you finger met his heart. The two of you would be ok. Stewards came to get the two of you for weigh ins a to get you to the cool down room. 
Ollie walked in behind you. “There you are Bearman. I thought you forgot about me!” Ollie said nothing as he stomped over and gave you, well, a bear hug. Your ran your fingers through his hair. Pulling back, there were tears in his eyes as well. 
“You both are going to be the death of me. It’s not like I’m actually dying. And besides, you both will need to drive for a team for Free Practices and you’ll be invited to races.” Ollie and Arthur sadly nodded, but new you were right. This wasn’t goodbye. 
Ollie went out first, followed by Arthur. You looked around the room, one last time. You’d miss it for sure, but it was time to move on. 
You walked out with your head held high, flag wrapped around your shoulders. You took off your hat as you listened to your anthem, and then the French one followed. Two different officials handed trophies to Ollie and Arthur. You were too busy watching them smile and celebrate, that you almost missed the person in front of you with your trophy. 
You turned your head and were met with icy blue eyes. You smiled at the familiar face and tears pricked your eyes. 
Max gave you a grin and brought you in for a hug. It had to be quick, but he could tell you needed it. The two of you parted and he gave you the trophy. He stepped back and watched as you lifted it high in the air. 
His heart swelled with pride. Looking around, he noticed that the three of you started to grab your champagne bottles and he quickly left the stage, not wanting to get drenched in the liquid. You hauled the bottle over your shoulder, after you had shaken it some, and started to spray the two boys whom you loved so dearly. 
For the umpteenth time that day, tears littered your face. 
You looked up as the boys continued to splash the sticky drink around you. 
I made it LoLo. For you always. 
But, you were doing it for yourself as well. 
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(just imagine that max is in different clothes)
Bwah! We made it to the end of the 2023 season! I have a personal master list of every chapter I want to write and this work will be over 42 chapters! I just came up with the idea for the very last on (I plan ahead) and lemme tell you, I wanted to cry just thinking about it. I love you all!  
Some usernames do not come up when I try to tag them, so if that happens, I will respond to your comment or DM. If you’d like to be tagged, please comment under the chapter. It helps a lot when they are all in one place.
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hippielittlemetalhead · 5 months
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So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!
What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)
You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.
So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)
He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)
He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.
Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)
He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.
And maybe before that would have been enough.
He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"
He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.
"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."
By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.
"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."
Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.
"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."
"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.
He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?
Part 3
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scribbledghost · 3 months
Text
Do Me A Favor
A drabble based on this ask for Neighbor!Simon, as promised. Mentions of injury, but other than that, just fluff. This is after y'all are an established couple. Hope you enjoy!
It’s mid-afternoon when Simon’s phone pings and your contact appears on his screen. 
Hey, uh… can you do me a favor?
He puts down the book he’d been reading - a new historical fiction novel he’d grabbed the week prior - and looks out his window towards your house. 
Odd. Your car isn’t in your drive, and from what he can see, there are no packages on your doorstep. But, just like always, he is helpless to resist your call to him.
whats up
The three dots appear for a bit in response, then disappear, then reappear. 
Can you come pick me up?
Already, Simon is out of his chair and looping a face mask around his ears as he sends you a quick reply.
where are you
His first instinct is that you’ve had car trouble, so he double-checks the bed of his pickup to make sure his small toolkit is still there before he climbs into the cab.
Another ping from his phone.
So… funny story about that.
His heart rate ticks up. 
what
The three dots in the corner of the screen seem to mock him as he waits.
First off, I’m fine. I swear. But here’s the thing.
A photo flashes across his screen, and his heart drops. 
Your leg is in a brace, one extending from almost ankle-height up to your thigh.
I’m at the hospital.
He doesn’t even think to reply before he’s peeling out of the driveway and down the street. He breaks several traffic laws on the way to you, though he couldn’t care less at the moment. His brain won’t even let him register anything other than what happened to you.
You said you were fine. But nearly your entire leg is in a brace. So clearly, something happened. Clearly you’ve been hurt somehow. 
He’s too distracted to notice his phone continuing to receive notifications.
He makes it to the hospital in record time, barging into the emergency department and marching up to the main desk. Simon quickly tells them your name, then takes a breath before telling the staff you requested he come by to pick you up. 
You’re not dead. You’re coherent enough to text. And right now, that’s what he’s clinging to as the medical personnel lead him back to you.
You’re wearing a sheepish look as he walks up. 
“Hey, I’ve uh… I’ve been texting you.”
“Been drivin’.”
“Yeah, I figured as much,” you say. “So how many laws did you break to get here that fast?”
He shrugs.
“‘Least three. Give or take.”
He then nods towards your leg.
“What happened?”
“I slipped and fell down a set of stairs at work,” you say with a sigh. “No permanent damage, just messed up my knee so I have to wear this for a while.”
Now that he can see you in the flesh, can see that you’re not critically injured or dying, Simon allows himself to relax. He helps you into a wheelchair, gets you to his truck, and all but hefts you up into the passenger seat himself. 
The drive back to your place is quiet. Simon’s got one hand on the steering wheel, and the other hand rests on the center console holding yours. Every so often, he brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“Scared the hell outta me, love,” he murmurs while stopped at a red light.
“I know,” you say softly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t know how else to tell you what was going on.”
When he pulls back onto your street, he notices you look over at him as he pulls into his own driveway instead of yours.
“Figured y’can make it up to me by hangin’ around here for a bit,” he says as an answer to your unasked question. “Let me make you some dinner. Take care of ya for the evenin’, yeah?”
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