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#what is this fucking breakdown where did I ASK
dangerpronebuddie · 3 days
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Okay, I hate this
I hate this I hate this I hate this
We just had an episode that implied Eddie didn't know he could say no to the possibility of sex with Marisol. It was also implied that option didn't occur to Buck either.
And now there's a speculation that Buck and Eddie are not just letting loose and having fun... but are drugged and out of their minds.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's finally breaking out of the box he's been confining himself to? Beautiful and poetic and I love it.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's been drugged? No fucking thank you!!!!
But it's possible and that pisses me off.
(Whump is always fun. But in canon, with two characters who don't know they can say no and one who's been assaulted before, it's not good!!! This show is fantastic about handling serious issues and heavy conversations. Consent? Not so much).
Unfortunately, since there's possibilities surrounding consent right now, I have a theory or two.
If they're really copy pasting BT onto Eddie and Marisol, then they could possibly do the 5x11 thing and Eddie is going to kiss someone. Drunk. (Or drugged, depending on that spec). Consent? Don't know her.
But if they do, it could shatter the box he's been in, and himself. I hate the idea that Eddie always has to completely break to be able to heal, but he doesn't know any other way to be. Ryan hinted at the possibility of Eddie breaking again. So what makes it happen, what does he learn from it, and how does Marisol factor in?
If they do the BT parallel and he kisses someone, consensual or not, he's going to feel incredibly guilty about it. He's failed as a boyfriend (and knowing him, he'll twist it around as failing as a father too) and the box will break again.
The next few episode titles even lean into the guilt of it all. Ghost of a Second Chance, Step Nine, even Unfinished Business is ominous enough to suggest the storyline is involved there too.
With the writers for 7x08 being Juan Carlos Coto and Bradley Marques, and Coto being who wrote the breakdown, I wouldn't be surprised in the very least if something happened that episode. It doesn't need to be a breakdown again, but it can be this cathartic experience where Eddie finally lets go of the guilt he's been carrying for decades.
The title for 7x08 has been on my mind since we found out about it. Step Nine in AA is about making amends, no matter what. It's going to be a Bobby centric episode, no doubt, but Juan Carlos Coto usually writes episodes that are big for both Bobby and buddie (2x06, 3x09, 4x05, 5x13, 5x16, 6x10 to name just a few). Add in the fact Bradley Marques is writing it with him, the guy who's only done episode 100 so far, is... Interesting!
Bobby is likely making amends with Amir. Eddie has to make amends with himself. If we get a realization or a coming out that episode? I will pass out.
They're setting it up to be a brilliant queer storyline for Eddie. I would HATE for it to be tainted by drugs and a lack of consent and another cheating storyline.
And if they don't go the drug route (yay!), then an almost between Buck and Eddie would most likely be enough to make Eddie feel guilty about it and then have to face it and realize he has nothing to feel guilty about at all. Nothing happened. He just realized he wants it to happen, and for a moment it felt like Buck did too. It would push him to either hide with Marisol or drop her and be free. And since he's grown and recognized that he moved too fast asking her to move in, it's possible he breaks up with her instead of becoming more serious.
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tarraxahum · 4 months
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Oh I thought interacting with your first ever hyperfixation was bad.
Apparently bumping into your longest one that came with an active and extensive fandom experience attached is even worse. 'Cause not only do you miss these characters terribly, you also miss being around so many people all the time, online or offline. Being known. Somewhat appreciated (sue me for liking it when my ideas and creations elicit a wide reaction and/or have an impact). That ish even got me a job and I felt like the most special motherfucker in the world who had her life figured out (and for a hot second there I think I was).
Now I'm post-severe-burnout, broke, my favorite characters are mostly dead, my 'generation' of said fandom all moved on (me included, usually) and if I ever draw anything again I wouldn't know where to post it 'cause I purged all my socials. The only thing I managed to keep intact is a few friendships, which, THANK FUCK (thank fuck they didn't give up on my ass either). The rest of the connections? Blew it, burnt it.
It's like. They're just characters. But they're also a big and better chunk of my life when I last felt I was someone. Does that make any sense.
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broke-on-books · 2 years
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I'm a fucking disaster send tweet
Also btw guys I got my drivers license
#the craziest thing about this web site is that i never publically embarrass myself here#like i have the emotional intensity of a nuclear bomb and the self control of a hand grenade#ive been going off VERY publically since i was eight years old and its really only gotten worse#it probably hit its peak in middle school but still i just-#i cant even get fucking angry or frustrated at myself without fucking crying! and everyone asking me if im okay like no! im not okay!#i screwed up something i have in my ability to do well because i got in my own damn head or whatever no im not okay#its just like the worst part is that my mind doesnt care if i did good on what i was supposed to do it only sees that i could have done bet#ter. its literally like i got my drivers license! i got a 92 on my test! i got the desired results there! but yet im still fucking crying#because i knew and possessed the skills to get those scores (and better!) in me and i had in fact done better and shown that i had those#skills in the past BUT instead they gave them to me out of pity because they knew i could do better#so then i have to be the person sitting there crying when i did perfectly fine but really i fucking hate myself because i know i didnt#actually do perfectly fine!!! i did fucking dogshit instead compared to how i could have done how i KNOW i could have done#its just annoying because like. i am a very cheerful and positive person and am actually one of the more stable people i know. i have an#amazing relationship with my family i do well easily in school and i dont get involved in bad things or generally make bad decisions#however every few months i have a very public breakdown over something incredibly stupid because i get wrapped around the axel in my head#everyone i know from distant acquaintances to complete strangers have seen me fucking cry because i just cant stop it#im supposed to be celebrating right now and picking where we're going to go out to dinner tonight but instead im not because im fucking#crying in my room because i passed my drivers test#what the hell is wrong with me i swear to god#also shoutout to neurodivergent people with chemical imbalances and stuff in their brains because mine works how its supposed to and its#absolutely fucking hell on my life. like hot damn idk how you guys do it absolute fucking props i respect you all SO much genuinely#anyways i need to get my shit together before anyone else tries to talk with me or else ill start crying again#highkey considering not posting this but if i dont ill lose any and all catharsis i could possibly get so like sorry guys#blah#ignore this
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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So far no new updates for the friend drama except he tweeted something about being a bad person (it was right after I tweeted something mundane so I assume it was about being mad at me still) and his bf replied that he wasn’t a bad person which is hilarious to me ngl
#I’m most likely not gonna message first like he’s gonna have to ask for an apology by saying what I did that hurt him#but also it just doesn’t seem like he even wants to fix it anyway and last time I messaged first when he was in that mood he just kept#responding really angrily which we both know just makes me go more into my shell so I couldn’t even talk about why I was hurt and it became#me just continuously saying sorry and hoping he’d forgive me and that absolutely sucked#that time I was hurt because I was explaining why even though a person is a pos you shouldn’t bully them like a regular non influential#person who just happened to be kind of a dick to his bf the two of them kept priv qrting the person and people who defended the person to#the point where the whole fandom they were a part of blocked both of them and when I happened to log on I was like ‘idk what just happened#I’m just sticking with my friends’ so someone on the other side told me what was going on and I denounced that behavior because just it rubs#me the wrong way I don’t like any type of bullying because I was bullied until I got out of school lol so I explain to my friends Why it’s#kinda fucked up and I thought they were listening and understanding or at least trying to and then my friend immediately does it again so I#just tweeted how I didn’t wanna be friends with someone like that because I was frustrated and hurt and uncomfortable and then had a#breakdown because I had Deja vu and so it all felt unavoidable and I deactivated for a little bit which also pissed him off lol#but yeah so I apologized first that time because he started tweeting again how I never apologize first I must not want this friendship etc#at least that time I knew what I did wrong like I should’ve been more considerate with how I went about saying that made me uncomfortable#although my therapist says I was in the right there but idk maybe if it was someone else I would’ve been#oh also they both still do it lmao but I haven’t dared say anything about it#it just idk like the most that person had done was like not quite ghosting but something similar#and the other people just were friends with them and all they knew was their friend was being bullied until their acc was priv#it was fucked up and I don’t blame the fandom for taking the other person’s side#don’t just harass people because they weren’t a good friend to you#and I don’t mean toxic even I mean they just became really distant and uninterested almost like they were trying to end the friendship in a#more organic way I guess idk I’m not them but from everything I saw and heard that’s what it looked like
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Hi I'm having Thoughts about the argument scenario from fuka's pov! He sort of twigs they're talking about him but in the wrong context so his thoughts begin to spiral into “Oh god did I do something wrong- Should I be paying more attention to what they're saying? Are they mad at me? They're mad at me they're mad at me they're-” As the shouts get louder and just before the breaking point Piko starts yelling too and then Fuka can't process anything except 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘 -🌟 1/?
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not sure if that last one was 100% related cause it didnt have a number but?
twigs
len & moke you IDIOTS god.... piko trying his best here (tho the yelling still prob didnt help but HEY at least he kinda recognizes & feels guilt), augh the imagery of fuka begging piko not to leave him is so so sad 😭
even tho the confrontation/apology went badly at least moke still did something... LEN IS DOING NOTHING HERE, BOY YOU CAUSED PART OF THIS DO SOMETHING HOE!!
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fratboykate · 1 year
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I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.
people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.
5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:
10% to our agent
10% to our manager
5% to our entertainment attorney
5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)
most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.
you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.
lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.
this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.
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they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)
support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.
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chaoticace2005 · 2 months
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Why Vox needs to GET THE FUCK OVER THE RADIO DEMON:
(By Velvette, the only competent of the Vees)
(Her list for Valentino here)
1. He’s just not into you
2. We have better things to do than allocate company time to this.
3. He makes you look stupid
4a. He makes US look stupid (and Valentino already does that enough)
4b. Seriously how are we supposed to stop your boy toy from chasing whore around town when you can’t do the same with your ex? We need to set a (gag) good example for him.
5. What do you even see in him? Tacky coat. And that voice is so old-school.
6. You have two people who (reluctantly) want to work with you. Why spend energy on a guy who doesn’t?
7. This was seven years ago babe. Give it up.
8. I’m tired of finding your Alastor Body Pillow around the penthouse
9. Speaking of the body pillow, did you really have to spend 5k on it?
10. Company money should be used for COMPANY things. The fact we even have an “Alastor” budget is stupid. HE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE. ( @onesidedradiostatic )
11. He fucked off once, he probably will again.
12. Do you really want to fuck with someone who has the princess and king of Hell on his side?
13. It makes Valentino insecure about his sexual prowess, which is not good for anyone.
14. I have to LISTEN to him complain about it.
15. No matter how hard you try, nobody will ever beat “Susan” for #1 rival in that man’s heart. (Which is valid cause Susan SUCKS.)
16. Also you’re wasting company time by having Val put together shitty-Alastor look alike porns? Angel Dust does NOT look like Radio Demon ffs, I though Val was the blind one not you.
17. Your screens keep crapping out whenever you think about him, and we’re running out of ones in storage.
18a. I don’t want to keep having to go to overlord meetings for you because you’re having a breakdown over of he’ll be there or not.
18b. Speaking of breakdowns, STOP MAKING THE WHOLE CITY LOSE POWER.
19. You’ve taken over the entire office space with your Alastor-shrine. It’s not really an inconvenience, just creepy.
20a. Not to kinkshame but I walked in on you and Val fucking with Alastor-wigs on, REALLY?!
20b. Also I think you’re making Val insecure about his lack of hair.
21. STOP asking me to design Alastor-cosplay clothes for you. I don’t want anything to do with this.
22. I already have to deal with one pissbaby
23. Seriously, he isn’t into you. Maybe it’s cause you’re a mess. Maybe it’s cause he’s AROACE. Who knows.
24. You keep interrupting channels to brainwash people into hating the Radio Demon, when we should be brainwashing them into other things.
25. We can all hear you talking to yourself in the shower when trying to come up with shitty comebacks.
26. You display your dreams when you sleep, and while it was funny at first at this point it’s so boring. Val and I want to watch something actually interesting for once rather than the same shit.
27. You keep glitching out in bisexual whenever he comes up and it’s annoying waiting for you to put your shit back together again.
28. I’m sick of movie nights where we just watch your self-made compilations of “Alastor’s Epic Fails” or just watch security footage of him at the hotel.
29. Why do you even try and film him? Your shitty cameras can pick hardly anything up.
30. Honestly this whole thing is just pathetic.
31. Like it used to be cute but now?
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ziracona · 1 year
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They never explained the psychic connection in S1 so I’m calling Xavier and Tyler are secretly half brothers or blood brothers of some magic pact kind like I may not have a shred of evidence beyond they’re brunette and the connection wasn’t explained but I know Al and Miles from years of dedicated Smallville viewing and I know they can’t resist a secret family connection.
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE
IT WAS SO GOOD
IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)
YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333
Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3
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But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.
Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations
Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹
Y/n goes home for a few days.
The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.
Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.
“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.
Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”
“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.
“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.
Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”
Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”
I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.
Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.
She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.
🏎️
“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.
His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”
Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”
Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”
Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You two were dating.”
Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”
Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”
The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.
He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”
Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”
“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.
Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”
He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”
Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”
Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”
Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”
Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”
“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.
Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”
Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”
“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”
“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”
“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”
Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”
There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.
“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”
A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”
Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”
Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”
“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.
“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.
“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.
“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.
“In order to get her back.”
It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”
“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”
Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.
Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.
However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.
Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.
Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.
“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.
She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”
He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.
Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”
He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”
Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”
He nods, “What should I say?”
His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”
His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”
Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”
🏎️
The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.
“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.
He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.
“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.
Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.
She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.
He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”
Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”
“Because she knows I love you.”
Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”
“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.
Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”
“From Nick.”
Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”
“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.
“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.
“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.
He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”
Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.
“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.
Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”
“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”
Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.
Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”
He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”
Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”
Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”
Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.
“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.
It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”
She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”
Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.
Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”
The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.
Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.
“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.
Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”
There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”
The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”
There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”
Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.
Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.
She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.
He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.
She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.
When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.
He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.
Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.
After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”
Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen
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captainfern · 10 months
Text
this is a request but i accidentally deleted it 😭
“hi babes. ur work is amazing but im sure you know this. im also sure you have lots of requests so please take your time getting to this one. but I was wonderingggg if you could do one where price is the friend of the readers dad? they've been hooking up in secret for a while but at a little house party, they sneak into someplace private and do the deed. ive seen so many other ffs about this with other characters so ikkkk price would fit this. thank you again <33”
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Marigold
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - price is your dads best friend. he asks you to meet him upstairs during a party. you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship? kinda?, unprotected piv, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], fingering, recording [consensual], oral [f!receiving], praise, strong language
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You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the fabric, smoothing the wrinkles, smiling at yourself. You looked fucking good.
Downstairs, a big neighbourhood party was in full swing— something organised by your father. It was a comfortable get together to unwind before the summer holidays, complete with all of your neighbours from down the street, and even across the block.
The dress you were wearing was new. You brought it recently, actually. You liked to convince yourself you got it because you were treating yourself, but in reality, it may or may not have been a 2am online purchase after a considerable emotional breakdown. But hey, same thing, right?
It was shorter than you thought, mid-thigh, if that. The colour was pretty too, your favourite. It complimented the complexion of your skin, accentuating your figure, showing off a significant amount of leg. You smiled at yourself, doing a quick twirl.
Hot as fuck.
The party was bustling. You had arrived home late, apologising profusely to your dad before rushing upstairs to get ready. So, over the gentle thrum of the music, you weren't surprised to hear your dad call your name, hurrying you to come and greet the guests.
You bounded down the stairs, dress fluttering against your thighs, and made your way into the kitchen. You tried not to feel awkward when copious pairs of eyes turned to look at you as you shuffled towards your dad. He put an arm around your shoulders, holding you to his side for a moment, placing a kiss to the top of your head.
"There you are. Come say hi to everyone."
You did. Humming along to the music as you went, you individually greeted each of the guests. You plastered on your best people-pleasing smile, responding cheerily to the same fifty fucking questions everyone asked you.
How are you? How is work? Have you figured out what you want to do? Any plans for the future? Met anyone special?
By the time you made it to the edge of your living room towards the other side of the house, you felt a headache coming on. So, you excused yourself back into the kitchen to get a large glass of water. Your father was just departing, leading the congregation of neighbours outside. By the smell of it, someone was on the barbecue.
You were left, alone, in the kitchen, nursing a cold glass of water, listening to the music you were skeptical your dad had actually chosen. There were some good songs, surprisingly.
You placed your glass away as your dad walked in, heading for the sink. He wriggled in next to you, rinsing his hands under the water.
"You okay, honey?"
You nodded. "I'm fine."
He smiled at you, drying his hands on a towel nearby. As he did that, the doorbell rung, echoing through the house, just audible over the music.
"Oh, can you get that? I just need to take these outside..." Your dad said, scooping a couple of extra wine bottles off the counter and heading outside.
You walked through the house, heading to the front door. You opened it with a polite smile spread across your features. It drooped slightly, catching sight of the man on your front porch.
"Captain Price." It was meant to be a greeting, but it sounded more as if you were stating a fact.
He offered you a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He had a bottle of whiskey tucked beneath his arm.
"You just never want to call me by my first name, do you, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you stepped to the side, allowing him entrance.
You blinked after his form— strong, hulking shoulders, a lean abdomen paired with a slight narrow in his waist— as he meandered into the entrance hall.
"John makes you sound old." You quipped as you followed him into the kitchen.
He laughed. "I am old."
"Not that old." You said.
It was somewhat true. He was a similar age to your father, and they were best friends. They'd been in the military together before your dad retired to have a family. Price had always checked in on him, especially when he had time off work. You had known him for a while. Met him a couple of times when you were really young— not that you could remember, anyway— and then you saw him a bit more frequently as you got older. You hadn't seen him for a while up until today. Captain John Price is a busy man.
You felt your body begin to heat up once the pair of you were in the kitchen.
Well, the last time you saw him was a couple of weeks ago, before he was set to be deployed to some foreign country—
"That's it, thaaaat's it, don't talk sweetheart, just take it," Price whispered in your ear, chest pressed to your back. "Don't talk. Just take my cock, there you go. Take it, love. Doing so good for me."
He had you bent over his kitchen counter, his house dark around you, the early hours of the morning apparent by the inky black sky visible out of his windows.
You couldn't talk, even if you tried. You had been trying to whimper to him, moan his name and his rank and tell him what you wanted, but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth. He had left you speechless with the way he continuously hit that spongey spot inside you, making you tighten and gush around him.
Bodies flush together, sweat accumulating between you. Your skin was on fire, hands and tits flush with the cool countertop as he fucked his cock into you, harder and harder, your knees smacking the underside cabinetry. His grip on your hips was vice-like, keeping you steady, his pelvis smacking into your arse.
"S'this my going away present, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you choked on another string of moans caught in your throat. "Fucking perfect. I better get another one once I'm back, yeah?"
You nodded deliriously, finding your voice. "Yes, Price, fuck, I promise, I promise—"
Price cleared his throat, snapping you out of your little flash back. He leaned against the kitchen island, hip bracing against it, having placed the bottle of whiskey down. He folded his arms across his broad chest, arms looking especially good in his black jacket.
"Your dad around?" He asked.
You nodded towards the backyard. "Yeah, he's outside. Did you want me to go get h—?"
You were cut off as Price grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, pressing your body to his. Quickly, he cupped your jaw and placed his mouth to yours, backing your lower back up against the counter. You had your hands against his chest as his tongue slipped into your mouth, one hand on your jaw and the other balled at your hip. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his knuckles, still keeping his fingers tucked into a fist.
Just as you whined into the kiss, your hands travelling upwards, Price stepped back. Commotion outside drew him right across the kitchen as the back door opened and your father came in. You discreetly wiped your face. So did Price.
That was unexpected.
Your dads eyes lit up when he saw Price, and Price smiled at him.
"John! Didn't think you'd make it!" Your dad beamed, pulling Price into a hug.
Price slapped your dad a couple of times on the back before they released each other.
"I flew in last night," Price admitted. "I won't stay long. Just thought I'd pop in and say hi. Oh, I also brought this."
Casually, Price stepped past you and grabbed the bottle of whiskey off of the counter behind you. You breathed in his cologne as he passed the bottle to your dad. You had to force yourself not to close your eyes and whine.
"Jesus, mate, this is an expensive bottle. You shouldn't have."
"No worries, mate. Enjoy it." Price replied.
Your dad turned to you, showing you the bottle, and you had to pretend like it was the coolest thing ever, since your dad seemed absolutely ecstatic.
"You see this, honey? This is good stuff."
"Oh, I bet." You said.
Your dad turned to put the whiskey in a cabinet nearby. When he turned back around, he let his eyes fall on to you, and his gaze softened, a small smile still evident on his face.
"I didn't say earlier, but that's a really nice dress. Nice colour, too. You look beautiful." Your dad said.
You felt your lips quirk at the edges as you hid a bashful smile. "Oh, thanks."
Your dad nudged Price. "It's a nice colour, don't you reckon, John? Reminds me of our deployment in Damascus. Remember? That nice lady selling all those shawls..."
You could tell Price wasn't really listening to your dads military-era story. His eyes were on you. It felt like he was absorbing you whole. Eyes darkening, raking up and down your body, admiring both the dress and the way it clung to you. The pinpoint of his tongue darted across his lips as his gaze travelled upwards from your legs, resting now on your face. You cocked your head at him, ever so slightly, biting your bottom lip for a second. He followed the movement, blinking and looking away, clearing his throat as his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink.
"Yeah, nice colour. Suits you." He grumbled.
After a moment, your dad led Price outside and you watched them go. Your body thrummed in time with the music, buzzing from where Price had touched you just mere minutes ago. You felt warm.
•º•
An hour or so later, the congregation of people had moved back inside, happy and full after the food outside. Darkness had fallen now, music still loud and just slightly vibrating the drinks resting on the counter in front of you.
You were talking with your neighbour, a girl just a few years older than you, who you had known for quite some time. The conversation was actually nice, and you found yourself enjoying it. Until she had to leave, and you were once again left standing alone in the kitchen. Until, of course, Price sidled up beside you, still a respectable distance away.
"Meet me upstairs. Give it a minute, though." Was all he said before he vanished from the room.
No greeting, or small talk. Straight to the fucking point, clearly.
You downed the rest of your drink, letting a good long couple of minutes pass before you decided to head up the stairs. As you ascended, you looked around, seeing no one paying you much attention. Your dad was on the couch, telling a good dozen people one of his usual thrilling stories of his time in the military. You smiled to yourself as you reached the top of the stairs.
You made your way into your bedroom, humming to yourself. You didn't see Price straight away, so you flinched when he slammed the door closed behind you, jamming your desk chair beneath it to keep it locked— it was an old house, with no locks on the bedroom doors— and striding across the room.
You had no time to react as he put a hand to the back of your neck, holding gently but firmly, and pressing your mouth to his. You whined desperately, folding your arms along his shoulders and carding your fingers into his hair, knocking his woollen hat off. He wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth, smoothing it against yours, drawing soft noises from your throat.
He walked you backwards until you both fell against the bed, him overtop of you. He didn't once break the kiss, even when he used one hand to pry your legs apart, forcing them to hook around his hips as he pushed you further onto the bed, crawling after you.
"Missed you." You whispered, pleasure straining each syllable. He had broken away from your mouth, kissing along the curve of your jaw and down the expanse of your throat. He nipped at the soft skin of your neck, licking along your collarbone, still heading southward. He got to the neckline of your dress, pressed taut to the swell of your breasts, rising rapidly as you breathed. He ran kisses along the soft flesh, running his hands up and down your waist, revelling in the softness of the fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath.
"Such a pretty fucking dress," He muttered, teeth skimming the line of the fabric. "Took everything in me not to flip it up and fuck you in it... right there in that kitchen."
He yanked it down, letting your tits spill out before him. With a soft grumble in his throat, he pressed his mouth to your left one, drawing your nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. He looked up at you whilst he did it, admiring the way your eyes fluttered, struggling to maintain eye contact as the pleasure built.
After a moment, he released it with a slick pop and moved to your right tit, mimicking his earlier actions. You moaned his name, gripping his hair, massaging his scalp. He groaned, mouth wet and hot against your delicate flesh. His hands had moved now— one running up to cup and massage your tits as he sucked, and the other travelling down the length of your body.
Your body hummed in anticipation, tingling as he gently flipped the bottom of your dress up, exposing your underwear. Still sucking kisses onto the mounds of your breasts, he dipped his hand past the hem of your underwear. Two fingers made contact with your slick core, and you arched further into his mouth, moaning loudly.
"Fuck me, you're soaked," Price grunted, releasing your swollen nipple and sitting back on his haunches.
Impatiently, he yanked his hand out of your underwear and ripped them away, the cotton snapping against your thighs, breaking with a loud tear. You whimpered as Price stuffed the material into his jacket pocket, swiftly pushing his fingers back towards your core.
They ran up and down your slit, collecting the excess arousal that was drooling from your cunt. He slowly dragged the digits through your folds a couple of times before he pressed the tips to your clit, drawing tight circles. You gasped, arching for him, moaning his rank as he replaced the two fingers with his thumb. His two fingers were immediately at your dripping entrance, circling.
"So wet, sweetheart. Absolutely dripping," He mused. "What's got you all wet and needy?”
You mewled at him, sensation-overload and he had barely started. Your tits were slick with his saliva, cold in the air of your room. He was still circling your clit, your arousal making his movements audible if you listened hard enough. The music downstairs was dull and echoey, as if you were underwater. Then, his two fingers, the tips barely grazing your soaking hole. You could scream.
"Eh, sweetheart? What's got you soaking your pretty little underwear, hm?" Price asked, still giving your clit attention.
"You." You whine.
"Me?" Price chuckled. "What about me?"
'You're... you're making me wet, Price," you almost sob. "Need you so bad. I missed you."
Price liked that answer, clearly. He pushed two fingers into your cunt, letting out a breathy moan as your silky walls clamped around the digits. You keened, whimpering like some kind of wounded animal as he buried his fingers to the knuckle before dragging them all the way back out. He plunged them in again, and a pace began, almost in time with the base of whatever song was playing downstairs.
"This my welcome home present?" He asked, shoving his fingers repeatedly into your tight cunt, wet sounds reverberating around your bedroom.
You nodded. "Yeah. M-missed you—"
Your lower stomach was tingling, coiling tight. Already? Fucking hell.
"Missed you too, sweetheart," Price leaned up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "Couldn't get this pretty face outta my head. Couldn't get this pretty cunt outta my head, either."
He leaned back, settling on his ankles as he watched his fingers drag in and out of you, coaxing wave after wave of slick from the depths of your cunt. He moaned, really fucking loudly, at the sight.
"Can I... can I take a video?" Price asked, breathless.
You felt yourself burning up, stomach flipping. You nodded, whining a "yeah" as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out his phone. His fingers slowed for just a moment as he readied his phones camera.
"Wish I had a video when I was deployed," he whispered, more to himself than you. "Had to rely on my imagination."
His words made you moan.
"Yeah, just had to remember those pretty sounds you make, and the sight of this pretty cunt stretched out around my cock," He groaned, turning the flash on to combat the hazy lighting in your bedroom. "Came all over my hand imagining it was this cunt 'round my cock."
He hit record as the movements of his finger sped up. You mewled, whining, arching off the bed and pushing your aching core further onto his hand as he fucked his fingers into you, thumb rubbing tightly against your puffy, wet clit. The sounds were obscene, like foley sound effects, soft squelches with each push of his fingers. You could feel your arousal pooling out of you, down the soft skin of your thighs, across the curve of your arse, bleeding into the sheets beneath you. You imagined that Price's hand would be absolutely drenched.
He was making soft, deep noises in the back of his throat, watching his fingers, phone focused on their movements. He flicked his eyes up to your face, not moving the camera though. Your facial expressions were easy to remember— chewing at your bottom lip, slight furrow in your brow, lips puffy and wet with saliva, eyelids fluttering. That was for his mind only.
You moaned, breathy and high-pitched.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?"
"Gonna... gonna cum."
He withheld a moan at the sound of your sweet desperation. It made his cock throb angrily within the confines of his boxers, already painfully hard the moment he had pushed you onto the bed.
"Go on then, pretty girl. Cum 'round my fingers," He muttered, and you did— creaming around him with a violent twitching of your legs, cunt spasming around his fingers in a burst of arousal, splattering up the length of his forearm. He smiled lazily behind his phone, muttering; "That's a good girl."
"Price—!" You cried, halfway between a moan and a sob.
He hit stop, tossing his phone aside and pulling your thighs apart. Nestling himself between them, his breath fanned out across your soaking folds. You tried to lift yourself off the mattress to see what he was doing, but you couldn't. When his warm tongue licked a fat stripe up your sensitive slit, you flopped backwards.
There wasn't as much foreplay as usual… in the sense that Price shoved his tongue directly into your drooling cunt. He ignored your overstimulated clit, probably for the best, as he lapped at the arousal that was still leaking from you. He moaned happily against your folds, nose pressed just below your clit. It nudged the swollen bundle of nerves every few seconds, and it made your hips buck, electricity zapping the base of your tummy.
You had both hands in his hair, pulling him closer and urging him on. You tugged gently at the strands, massaging his scalp, making him grumble appreciatively below you. His hands were hard and warm against your thighs, making you tingle. Your tits were still exposed, the rest of your dress pooling around your waist.
You could still hear the rest of the party happening downstairs. A small jolt of fear passed through you. If anyone— especially your dad— came searching for you, you'd be fucking dead. Whoever it may be, would find you spread out on your back on your bed, legs spread and panting, a man probably more than twice your age between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.
The fear turned to thrill, and you released a shaky breath.
Your second orgasm rolled over you quickly, and Price dragged it from you with a moan of your name against your cunt. You keened, uttering a sickly sweet "captain!" before coming in his mouth.
"Fuck, yeah, that's it." He murmured against your folds, sucking up the arousal that pooled at your fluttering hole. It always made you embarrassed, the way he literally talked into your cunt, his words vibrating your core. He groaned again, humping against your bed covers, pressing the outline of his aching cock into your mattress. "Such a good, wet cunt. Tastes fucking divine."
He pulled away. You watched him hazily as he shed his shirt and pants, then his boxers, his hard cock bobbing against his stomach. You salivated at the sight as he gripped himself, moving to scoop some of your arousal into his hand. He coated himself in it, pumping his hard length, eyes raking down your body.
"So beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning over you and kissing you again. His cock settled at your entrance, fat head leaking pre-cum onto your already glistening folds. "Just made for me, weren't you?"
You hummed your agreement, barely able to keep your eyes open. He kissed you again, tongue probing, hot and wet. You whimpered, feeling his tongue skim your bottom lip, drawing further desperate sounds from your panting mouth.
Price cursed. "Fuck. Can I record another video?"
You nodded.
"Words, sweetheart, come on. You should know that."
"Yeah, okay," you said sheepishly. "You can record again."
He kissed your nose, then shuffled back, grabbing his phone as he kneeled between your spread legs. He flicked it to his camera, flash on and hitting record. His phone followed the movements of his cockhead, rubbing up your slit, smearing your arousal. Then, with no warning other than a shallow, animalistic grunt from the depths of his chest, Price pushed his cock into you.
He tried not to cum on the spot at the way you tossed your head back, moaning as your silken walls clamped around his cock. Your fists balled your sheets, twisting, as you scrambled for some kind of anchorage as he pulled out and thrusted back in, shunting you up the bed.
His pace was gruelling, sticky skin colliding with a wet fap fap fap. Your eyes rolled, mouth agape as breathy strings of whimpers fell from your lips. His cockhead nudged the plug of your womb, slamming into that spot that had you twitching and spasming.
"My good girl, my fucking good girl, look at you, taking me so well," Price muttered, definitely audible on camera. You clenched around him repeatedly, drawing throaty grunts from him. Your third orgasm was, not surprisingly, approaching quickly. Really fucking quickly. Especially when Price moved his free hand from your waist to toy with your puffy clit, giving it a light pinch before circling it. You sobbed out, clawing at the sheets.
"Captain, please—!"
"Fuck... beg for it... please, sweetheart, fucking beg for it." By the way Price was speaking, he was close.
Your cunt throbbed at that, a whine in his words.
"Please, Price, need to cum. Can I? P-please—fuck—please, captain, need to—"
He groaned, trying to mute himself as much as he could, sinking his top teeth into his bottom lip before urging himself to speak.
"Go on then. Cum 'round my cock," Price uttered lowly, eyes focused on your face. He could watch his cock fucking into your slick cunt whenever he wanted. He just wanted to see your beautiful face. "Good girl, that's it. You can cum. Let go for me, sweetheart."
"Oh my god, Price—" you keened, third orgasm slamming into you and sending you spiralling. White hot, body alight, nerves buzzing as you came around his cock, still burning hot inside you, abusing the plug of your womb.
"Fucking beautiful," Price grunted, still recording the way your cunt stretched taut around his girth, splattering wet across his pelvis.
He was close, twitching inside you. He was pawing at the mound of your belly, pressing his palm to where the imprint of his cock was visible, so fucking deep inside you. He moaned at the sight, salivating, hiking your dress up further to get a better view.
Overstimulation was creeping in. You whined, reaching down to skirt your fingernails across Price's bare abdomen.
"Please, Price, cum for me," you whimpered, voice coming out unusually sultry. "Cum inside me, please, captain."
"Holy fuck—" Price stuttered, spilling inside you instantly.
His warmth flooded you, spurting around his cock, dribbling out of your cunt. He spilled ropes and ropes, hot white ichor, filling your womb as you sobbed for him.
Price tossed his phone to the side, immediately dragging himself up your body, cock still inside. He pressed kisses all over your face, soothing you, the both of you shining with sweat. Your bare tits pressed against his bare chest as he whispered sweet words of affirmation in your ear.
You sighed.
There really wasn't any other man, your age or not, like Captain John Price.
"You alright?" He asked, kissing your earlobe, your jaw, your cheek, your nose, then finally your lips.
You smiled, his facial hair tickling your face. "Mhm."
"Good." He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking at the skin.
"You had fun filming your little videos?" You cooed, stroking a hand through his hair.
He grunted against your neck. "Of course. Straight to the wank bank they go, sweetheart."
You snorted, laughing. "For such an old man, you are so immature."
"I'm not an old man."
"You said you were earlier," you smiled. "Surprised you can still get it up."
"Fucking hell. You and Soap'd get along."
Your mischievous grin grew. "Oh, the one with the mohawk? Sexy—"
Price bit at your neck, making you yelp. He grumbled, "Don't push it."
You laughed, patting his head. You both lay in silence for a little while, listening to the dull, far-away vibrations of the music.
"We should probably rejoin the party..." You said in a disappointed mumble.
Price grunted, hugging you tighter. "Five minutes."
"Enough for round two, old man?"
"Don't tempt me, sweetheart."
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
This was meant to be longer and a bit fluffier but I got tired and horny so here you go hope you enjoyed mwah mwah xx
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Note
As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones
I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good
——
Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!
Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.
And now, they’re paying for it.
Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.
“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”
“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.
Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.
“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”
“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”
“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”
“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.
“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.
“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.
“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”
“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”
Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.
“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.
“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.
“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.
“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”
“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.
“What is that?” Dick asked.
“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”
“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.
“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.
“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”
“We know!” Lionel chirped.
“Base, come in.”
“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.
“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.
Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.
“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”
“Yes.”
Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”
“…Ah.”
“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.
A moment of silence before-
“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”
On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”
“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”
Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.
“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”
“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”
“No! That’s the fuel tank!”
“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”
As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.
Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.
“That’s- that’s Archy?”
“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.
“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”
Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”
“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”
Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.
——
Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.
“Something happen?” He managed to ask.
“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”
“…I see.”
Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.
“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”
Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.
“You can’t escape the question!”
Batman ran faster.
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eunoia-writes · 3 months
Text
Knight In shining armour • Felix Catton x Reader
Request - MAKE A FIC WHERE FELIX IS COMFORTING READER AFTER SHE’S HOSPITALIZED CAUSE SHE DRANK THE LACED CHAMPAGNE BUT DIDNT DIE JUST GOT REALLY SICK PLEASE PLEASE!!!🫶🏻
Warnings - 18+ Smut, Oral (M&F receiving, PinV, Oliver being a creep, Drugging
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When y/n awoke without Felix next to her it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Felix typically got up before her to go in hai morning
“Morning Darling.” Elspeth said as y/n approached at the table adorned In Felix’s jumper and her usual bed shorts
“Good morning.” She said with a smile while Duncan brought out her usual of scrambled eggs while she made her way to the breakfast bar grabbing her usual multiple spoons of fruit and few slices of toast.
“Felix and Oliver have headed out of the day so I thought you might like to accompany me and Venetia into town to get costumes for the party tomorrow.” Elspeth said taking a sip of her coffee her eyes not leaving y/n as she walked back to the table
“I’d love to.” Y/n said taking a sip of her orange juice “it’s been far too long since the three of us did anything without Felix.” She added while Venetia laughed
“It would be nice to see you without my brother attached to your hip for once.” Y/n blushed slightly, everyone adored how inseparable the couple were especially Elspeth, she loved seeing how smitten her son was, the way he doted on his girlfriend she just adorned how in love he was.
“Don’t listen to her you two are just darling together.” Elspeth said making y/n smile as she finished up her breakfast before rushing off to get ready for the day.
After hours of walking around the streets of London the three girls got back to saltburn. Y/n walked into Felix room to see him sat on the bed as she carried in multiple bags
“Oh Fi I got us the best costumes for tomorrow you’re going to love it honestly.” She began before she realised something was right
“Darling, what’s wrong?” Y/n put the bags down walking over to him as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes “oh my pretty boy, whatever’s the matter.” Felix took a deep breath as he pulled y/n into his lap
“Ollie lied… about everything.” Felix whispered as her hands came to his face wiping his tears away “I mean everything baby, the stuff with his parents… his dad is alive.” The last four words felt like a bullet In her chest.
“Oh.” Was all she said and Felix knew how hurt she was just from that. Y/n had bonded with Ollie over the loss after she lost her dad a few months prior. She didn’t want to believe that someone could be so cruel.
“I’m so sorry pretty girl.” Felix said as tears rolled down her cheeks
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” She asked her bottom lip quivering it was taking everything in her not to breakdown sobbing
“I brought him into our lives… I should have known.” Y/n shook her head before kissing him softly
“It’s not your fault.. how were you to know” She mumbled into the kiss before pulling away. She wiped the few stray tears that feel onto his cheeks away before standing back up and clearing her throat.
“Now back to those costumes.”
“God baby, you look so fucking hot.” Felix said as y/n came out of the bathroom in her costume. The same gold wings in his back adorned her. The bra, skirt and matching wings combo leaving very little to the imagination. the pair dressed as a Greek god and Goddess which Felix would argue she is regardless of the costume.
“You’re the sweetest.” Y/n leaned up to kiss Felix who’s hands instantly began to roam her body “Fi as much as I would love to stay in your room all night you mother will kiss us if we don’t show after all the effort she’s put into this.”
“Don’t really feel like celebrating.” Felix said his hands on her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck
“I know baby, I’ll make you a deal well go down there and show our faces for a while, have a few drinks and then I’ll finally let you show me round that maze yeah?” She suggested with an innocent smile on her face but the suggestion was far from innocent
“Get moving then pretty girl.” He said wasting no more time making sure to slap her arse as they walked out of his bedroom and down to where the party had already began
“Wow don’t you look hot.” Venetia said as y/n and Felix walked over to her hand in hand the music was already thumping as Elspeth walked over handing the pair a glass of champagne each making sure to tell them how cute there matching costumes are.
“Our dear cousin is out back with something to make this party a little more fun for us.” Venetia said watching the way Felix eyes lit up as he pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s temple before hurrying off.
The pair had managed to avoid Ollie so far that evening while drinking their way through bottle after bottle of whatever they could get their hands on. Felix had hardly taken his hands off her the whole evening when she suggest a late night stroll, although he knew what she was really suggesting.
The couple made their way outside into the cool summers air, the alcohol in their veins doing more than enough to keep them warm.
“You know the way right baby?” Y/n asked as they neared the entrance of the entirely pitch black maze while Felix had stopped to plant sloppy kisses all over her neck mumbling for her not to worry as she ran her hands through his hair.
Felix took the lead their laughter echoing against the labyrinthine walls, stumbled forward, hand in hand. The scent of blooming flowers lingered in the air as they weaved through the twists and turns, their steps becoming a delightful dance of tipsy synchronicity. Every few steps, he paused, their laughter bubbling over into kisses that tasted of desperation mixed with booze.
“My feet hurt.” Y/n mumbled into the kiss as she kicked off her shoes making her even smaller than her boyfriend who always towered over her.
“Not much longer pretty.” Felix said interlocking there hands once again as they continued into the darkness. The maze, a playground for their intoxicated affection, led them to its heart, where, surrounded by the fragrant maze walls, they shared a final, lingering kiss.
“Wow s’lot bigger than I imagined.” Y/n joked looking up at the statue in the center that towered over the pair of them
“The only thing you should be sayings big is me.” He joked as she rolled her eyes in the moonlight cocking her head to the side as she pulled him closer by the buckle of his belt
“Pretty heard to say that when I’ve got my mouth full.” She teased as she dropped to her knees staring up at him while she fumbled with his belt
“God pretty girl you’re killing me.” And just as he was about to have his way with her a loud snap came from a few yard away
“What was that.” She stopped in place much to his dismay
“S’nothibg baby.” Felix’s hands made there way into her hair as she looked up at him pouting slightly but ultimately brushing it off as she continued undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to pull him out of his underwear
Y/n wrapped both of her hands around the bottle of his length her eyes never leaving his as she kitten licked the tip. Felix let out a shaky breath making him tremble in his spot gripping her hair tighter. Her tongue swirled around his tip before she took him into her mouth her head bobbing up and done and she took more for him each time.
“Fuck just like that.” Felix groaned as her throat tightened around him as she gagged slightly briefly coming up for air before wrapping her mouth around him again she moaned around him as he let our a rather loud moan
“Such a good girl.” He groaned which only encouraged her she kept up her exact pace feeling him tense in her throat.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He said mere seconds before he finished in her mouth with a groan watching as she swallowed him and licked up any mess. Flashing an innocent smile just to top it off.
“God what are you doing to me y/n.” Felix waisted no time tucking himself back into his boxers as he scooped her up placing her on the base of the statue wasting no time attacking there lips as he stood between her thighs his lips trailed down to her neck she let out a soft wine as he found her sweet spot
“Up.” He mumbled into her neck telling her lift her ass up so he could pull her underwear down shoving them into his back pocket while he continued sucking marks on her neck.
He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down her chest to right were she needed him the most before pressing a kissed against her clothed heat “please.” she moaned he smirked looking up at her once more as if he was asking permission
“Fi.” She wined once more before he blew hot air over her swollen clit before diving in. his tongue traced her folds before he lapped at her clit. Y/n’s back arched, electricity bolting through her nerves. Her hands flew to tug at his hair as he lapped at her clit feverishly so Desperate to taste her. He caught her off guard slipping a digit into her, groaned into her when your legs locked around his head, securing him in place. Not that he needed it. He’d stay here forever if she’d let him.
“Please Fi .” She moaned his fingers pumped in and out of her while his tongue made work on her clit. her thighs tremble and eyes roll back into her head. One hand grip the Stone she was sat on her knuckles white, while the other tugged at his locks. The pressure in her abdomen built but so does something else, something deeper at the same time. Felix took note pulling away
“you taste just Devine pretty thing, but not so fast I’m not finished with you yet.” He said as she whimpered at the loss of contact.
She watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers leaning down it kiss her again before he lined himself up with her entrance before he sank into her both of them gasping at the feeling. 
“fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. She was appreciative of his slow thrusts her constant wines were evident of that.
Y/n’s legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer as his hips rocked back and forth
“Faster.” She groaned in his ear as she clenched around him. His free hand moving to wrap around her throat squeezing slightly as his hips moved faster.
Y/n opened her eyes for a few seconds spotting someone in the distance. She let out a gasp pushing Felix off her as she attempted to cover herself
“Ollie what the fuck!” She said as she realised who had been watching them. Felix fumbled to cover himself up before protectively standing in front of y/n.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Ollie.” He said while y/n grabbed into his arm
“We need to talk.” Ollie slurred as he made his was over to the couple. Y/n climbed down off the statue staying hid behind her boyfriend
“You’re a fucking liar Ollie.” Felix said as Ollie got closer and closer
“How could you Ollie, after I confided in you.” Y/n said snatching the bottle of champagne out of his hand chugging most of what was left
“I know I’m so sorry y/n… I really am.” He said but she just shook her head and walked away from the pair cradling the bottle as she wobbled while she listened to Felix and Ollie argue
“You need to leave Ollie.” Felix said his eyes flickering to y/n was was now slightly hunched over
“You’re still my friend? We’ll all still be friends right?” Felix didn’t give him an answer before he rushed over to y/n which Ollie took as his que to leave
“Felix.” She said as she started to go dizzy. Y/n reached out for him while he grabbed onto her
“I don’t feel good.” She whispered before her legs gave way. Alarmed, Felix scooped her up in his arms, concern etching his face.
“Stay with me, baby.” Y/n mumbled something drowsy, her eyes struggling to stay open. Felix, with a sense of urgency, began navigating the maze's twists and turns running as fast as he could carry her
“No baby keep your eyes open.” He said as he held her head up with one hand. As he neared the house he spotted Elspeth seeing a group of her friends off by there cars
“Mum!” He yelled out catching her attention, noticing the distress, she rushed over, her face turning from joyous to concerned.
“I don’t know what happened, no baby keep your eyes open for me.” Felix said once again noticing the way she was struggling to stay conscious “y/n, look at me.” He said as Elspeth rushed them towards the car calling out of Duncan.
Felix sat y/n in the back seat sliding in next to her while his mother told him she’d get the rest of the family before telling Duncan to drive to the hospital as fast as he possibly could while she climbed into the passenger seat.”
“M’tired.” Y/n mumbled incoherently as she fell limp into Felix said
“I know baby, I know but you’ve gotta Stay awake for me.” Felix’s heart was in his throat he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Felix, what happen? Did she take something?” Elspeth asked Felix had never shook his head so quickly
“No mum, she would never. she was fine a few minutes ago.” He said the panic in his voice evident he head tears in his eyes as y/n kept mumbling nonsense to him.
“Love you Fi” He heard her say before she fell unconscious
“Drive fucking faster!” He yelled hitting the back of the seat as he tried to shake her awake but it wasn’t working
“Calm down Felix we’re almost there.” Elspeth said in reality she was also just as panicked. She loved y/n like her own she couldn’t bare the thought of something happening to her.
“I can’t fucking calm down!” He yelled and as soon as they turned into the hospital Felix wasted no time rushing her inside begging for help. Multiple doctors came rushing over taking him from her arms discussing things amongst themselves.
Felix stood frozen in the middle of the room, the weight of fear anchoring him to the spot. The harsh light overhead accentuated the pallor of his face as doctors fired questions about what happened with his collapsed girlfriend. His voice caught in his throat, and his limbs felt like lead, rendering him incapable of articulating the events that led to this moment. The fear consumed him, the uncertainty of y/n’s well-being tightening its grip. Just when the anxiety threatened to suffocate him, the hospital door opens and Elspeth entered, a comforting presence amidst the clinical sterility. Her eyes met Felix's, conveying a silent reassurance that he wasn't alone in this ordeal. In that shared gaze, a glimmer of strength returned to Felix, grounding him in the support of his mother amid the overwhelming uncertainties of the hospital room.
Elspeth took over the questioning answering every question she possibly could as a nurse took Felix into the waiting room where he sank into one of the chairs terrified for y/n’s life. A few minutes later Venetia, his dad and Farleigh came rushing into the room. No one said a word.
Venetia took a seat next to her brother taking his hand in hers trying to offer him some sort of comfort in the horrific moment. The reality of the situation had completely sobered him up the adrenaline of the alcohol wearing off.
“Felix, darling have some water.” Elspeth said handing Felix a plastic cup that she had filled with the water sat off to the side of them. His hands shook as he took a sip of the water finally speaking up for the first time since he’d let the doctors take y/n from his arm.
“I won’t be able to live if something happens to her.” It was almost a whisper but everyone heard it
“She’s going to be okay.” Farleigh not only told Felix but also himself and everyone in the room for that matter all of them having the same sinking feeling.
“But what if it’s not.”
In the hush of the hospital waiting room, Felix ensnared in a web of anxiety, perched on the edge of a hard plastic chair. His knees are caught in a restless rhythm, an involuntary dance fueled by the uncertainty of y/n’s condition. The minutes stretch like elastic as he nervously glances at the clock, each tick amplifying the echo of his worries.
Unable to contain the nervous energy, Felix succumbs to the urge to pace back and forth across the linoleum floor. His steps are uneven, a physical manifestation of the emotional turbulence swirling within. The harsh fluorescent lights cast shadows that play on his strained expression, the weight of concern etched across his face.
Meanwhile, His family huddles nearby, attempting to offer solace in whispered words and gentle touches. Their eyes mirror his apprehension, but they muster comforting smiles and attempts at casual conversation, striving to create a shield against the suffocating atmosphere of the waiting room.
The air is thick with anticipation, each passing second an agonizing reminder of the unknown. Felix, caught between the pull of hope and the gravity of fear, finds solace neither in the uncomfortable chair nor the sterile surroundings. All that matters is the impending news about y/n’s well-being, an answer that lingers just out of reach, teasing the frayed edges of his nerves. What felt like an eternity later a doctor came into the room everyone’s attention on them
“I’m Doctor Robinson I’m y/n’s doctor Today.” The woman started but before she could get another word out Felix croaked
“Is she okay?”
“Y/n is doing better than we could have hoped for her case, you did the right thing getting her here when you did. Her toxicology came back and it looks like she ingested a lethal amount of benzodiazepines which we believe after conversation with Elspeth to be as a result of spiking in something she will have drank at the party this evening.” The doctor explained everyone felt a weight lifted off there shoulders as they said she was doing better
“Can I see her?” Felix asked
“She’s not awake yet, however you are more than welcome to sit at her bedside until she does wake up.” Felix shoot up out of his seat almost instantly the others silently agreeing to let him go alone as he followed the doctor to her room.
Felix heart broke as soon as he walked into the room seeing y/n laying there with multiple IVs stuck in her arm. He chocked back his tears as he made his way to sit next to her taking his hand in hers.
At what felt like only moments later as if she was awoke by his presence she was finally conscious again. Felix kiss the back of her hand as he thanked god for keeping her safe
“Hey pretty.” He whispered softly as a few tears rolled down his cheeks she smiled softly at him squeezing his hand
“Hi.” She croaked out her eyes half open. Her entire body ached as she reached out to wipe his tears away “Don’t cry Fi, I’m okay.”
“You scared me so much baby.” He said as more tears rolled down his cheeks
“god if you had - but I didn’t and I’m okay.” She said knowing where his train of thought was going. She shuffled herself to one side of the bed making room for Felix next to her as she patted the spot which he waisted no time climbing into
“Did they tell you what happen?” She asked as she got comfortable on his chest as Felix petted her head. Felix let out a sigh not sure how to approach the topic.
“The doctors said you had a lot of benzodiazepines in your system.” Felix started and he felt her tense up
“What- I don’t do that kinda thing… I’d never.” She said as tears rolled down her cheeks
“I know baby I know, mum knows that too everyone knows you’re not like that.” He whispered y/n had always made it gleaming obvious she didn’t like the idea of every taking drugs while she never judged those who did she couldn’t bare the thought of losing herself to drugs the way her father did.
“Then how?” She asked knowing exactly how but she needed him to say it
“The doctors think something you drank was spiked.” Felix said and her heart sank. Saltburn was supposed to be a space space where she didn’t have to worry about stuff like that. A place where nothing bad could possible happen.
“You don’t think…” she started and Felix knew exactly what she was hinting at. Ollie. The only thing she had drank that she hadn’t opened the bottle or poured herself was the champagne she snatched from his hands.
“I… I Really fucking hope not.” Felix whispered just as Elspeth and everyone knocked at the door wanting to check in y/n themselves
“Oh darling, I’m so glad You’re okay. You had us all worried sick.” Elspeth said rushing over to y/n’s bedside who gave her a weak smile
“Is there anything we can do or get you?” James said standing next to his wife placing a comforting hand on her shoulder
“I would really just like to go home.” Y/n said and just as Venetia was about yo say she’d go speak to the doctor Felix spoke up
“No, you can’t go home yet.” He began looking down at her “you need to stay here and get better.”
“Fels, I’m okay I just need to rest.” y/n said just as her doctor walked into the room
“Ah y/n, glad to see you’re awake.” She began as she picked up her chart from the end of the bed “I’m sure Felix here told you, we found a lethal amount of benzodiazepines in your system which is what caused you to lose consciousness. If it wasn’t for your lovely family getting you here when they did we’d be looking at a very different outcome.” Y/n squeezed Felix’s hand softly nodding to what the doctor was telling her.
“For now I suggest you go home and rest up take it easy for a few day, which I’m sure everyone in this room will see too that you do and make sure you’re drinking plenty of fluids.” Y/n looked up at Felix while the doctor went to collect the discharge papers
“See baby, I told you I’m okay.” She said as he leaned down to kiss her softly
“I’m so glad you’re okay pretty.”
“Well Im lucky I have you, my knight in shining armour.”
1K notes · View notes
baynetta · 10 months
Note
asking miguel to give you a back massage because your lower back has be killing you! and he starts getting distracted (y’all r in backshots position)
every single day i think about what would be to have a beast of a man always touch starved. let’s picture it, miguel is the type of guy no matter how angry, stressing or even on the edge of a mental breakdown, that man it’s always down bad for you. so when you ask him to do an subtle act like a back massage, how could he say no?. what kind of boyfriend he would be to negate such a innocent act?. the truth is that that never ends up well for you, like let’s be real why you even got that back pain in the first place. “ya mi chiquita, where it hurts?” he casually comes from behind, slowly sliding his hands from the sides of your hips. his fingertips gently carresing your curvy hips, as you throw your head back, resting your head on his solidly built chest. you close your eyes just enjoying whatever he was trying to do with you. then you feel him kissing you in the forehead. this love gestures is what send tickles down, you often love when he’s rough on you but when he’s like this, taking extra care of you makes you want to melt right there. “no te hagas la bonita, where it hurts?”. as you open your eyes, you see him looking right down at you, his stare, god how long he has been hungirly creeping at you?. “more in the center, like in the low back” you said slightly annoyed that he’s playing too much. “mmh i see..” now you have his full focus in your back, tbh the man was fully cheeking your ass, how the bum gently moves up when he drags the palm of his hands in circles, in the exact right place that you wanted. you were wearing that tight pijamas that left little to the imagination, so he’s fucking holding back like craaazy.
he use his knuckles to press it on your center and then go up throughyour spine and then down, reaching a little lower from your low back. he then uses his free hand to grab on your hip. his grip start to become tidder once a soft moan scape from your pretty dirty mouth, “te gusta así?” he asked as you can feel his lips near your left ear, the tip of his nose smelling your sweet aroma, going from your hair to your neck, that man was savoring every single of inch of you (he likes to play with his meal before eating it so 🤭), you just nod impatiently for more. now he just couldn’t take it anymore, and fully pressed down his painful erection on your beautiful plump ass, now holding both of your hips, guiding your ass to fully grind on his long hard shaft. it was still and even with the light fabric covering it with the friction you can feel every angry vein of his cock. that shit is just mouth watering to you. “miguel.. que pesado eres” you said annoyed and you kinda were, that man is going to end up breaking you in half. but with your ungrateful attitude you just earn a hard and loud spank from him, making you gasp out of the surprise and the sting that made your bum burn like crazy. god you’re just causing him to be more frustrated “who did this you?”, “who hurt that pretty back of you, huh?” he asked while forcing you to look up at him, his eyes where so lustful like he hasn’t been touched in months, “mm?” he asked again while playing with your lips with his fat thumb. you just bat your eyes at him giving him that inocent look, those bambi “fuck me” eyes that you know it makes him go insane, you’re such a fucking tease. the way he quickly pull down your shorts and panties, just enough so he can fully see that piece of ass he loves to use it to get himself off, like whenever you’re bending down he would not wait to play with it, to make it bounce on his cock until he pleases. but now he was tired of just pressing it down, he needed more. “miguel, can you..” you said as you tried to face him, “shut up” he spits as he push your back on to the kitchen counter, you try to protest but he keeps forcing you to stay still, you know that he doesn’t play, if he wants to be brutal it’s up to you. suddenly he lifts your mini top so your soft nipples are touching the freezing ceramic, you whine, you want to be his good fuck-toy and not protest but you just can’t help it. it’s humiliating, he’s just torturing you at this point. the way you know that tomorrow it’s gonna hurt even more. “now do me a favour, stay still y callada o te irá peor”
(pd: i definitely can do a part 2 of this one 🤭)
trad:
okay tiny
stop acting dumb
like that?
miguel you’re so annoying
and shut up or it’s gonna be worse
2K notes · View notes
senseichaos · 3 months
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Hey, same anon asking about yandere stuff. I'm so glad to hear!! Of course if you want to, may I please request yandere Vox with the reader? Like how they try to run from him? Perfectly fine with it being a female reader as I am one. And I don't mind how you write it. Do whatever you please! I love seeing others' interpretation of the characters 🖤 No rush!
YOU CAN'T RUN. HELL, YOU CAN'T HIDE EITHER.
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thank you lovely anon! I love the concept of Yandere Vox! Hope this is good :) let me know your thoughts in another ask if you'd like! Lots of love!
Summary: Vox doesn't often fall in love often, no. Well that was until you came around- and you wanted a job with Valentino of all people? No. That would never fly with him. He'd make you work with him instead, like an intern or something? Hell, anything to make you stay near him. Anything to get him as close to you as possible.
Genres: Angst with a small amount of sexuality
NOT PROOF READ (yet)
Warnings/Tags: Yandere Vox, Insecurity, Reader is naive, manipulation, mind control, exploitation, creepy behavior, masking, contractual agreements, reader lacks hell experience, Vox is violent, Vox lacks empathy, angst, swearing, overall kinda depressing (LET ME KNOW IF MISSING ANY)
Pt 2
_______
You can't believe your eyes when you step into that tower, the pink glass adorning the outsides making your eyes shimmer. You have a job interview with Valentino today, after waiting for (probably too long) to get a job somewhere.
You see, hell worked slightly differently to earth. Where things in earth worked in a more of a 'work and make work' sort of way, Hell is more 'work, make work, and fight'
You'd managed for the past months to live in a small apartment that happened to be owned by someone who got killed in an extermination. It wasn't your plan to impersonate a sinner and squat in their home, but you have to get by somehow, right?
Well- it also wasn't your plan to be a porn star. But no where else seemed to want to take you. You're small, too weak to be taken by anyone else. People on the street told you that you were made for the screen, that your body was perfect. Some even tried to pay you copious amounts of cash just for you to suck them off. And you hate it.
At least the elevator of the building is cozy.
Vox on the other hand was having the best day of his life: or in his definition, a day where Valentino doesn't have a stupid breakdown that Vox doesn't have to solve.
He loves to watch his people as they indulge in his technology, he loves to watch everyone become obsessed with him and his media, he loves to be in control of all of these people. He'll watch every screen around him with focus, taking in their reactions as he bottle feeds them content.
Could he be with his boyfriend, Val? Yes. Does he want to? Hell no. He doesn't love Val. Plain and simple in his eyes. He has Valentino to get his business along. To make him more powerful. He'll do what he has to to be the most powerful he can be. Even if it means toying with people around him.
Val doesn't think he's capable of falling in love with anyone in this horrible underworld he inhabits. Everyone here is fucked. he is fucked. Plus, he doesn't know anyone here who he'd connect with anyway.
Or well that's what he did think until right now. There is a girl in the central elevator that looks awfully out of place, causing Vox to turn the entirety of his attention onto her. She looks like a regular old sinner, yes- but still she stands it like a sore thumb against the few people also in the central elevator. Where everyone's boring physique was her own enticing one stands. Where everyone else's two tone personalities stand her own colorful and bright one shimmer in his 2-D irises.
And then comes that odd feeling in his chest, this weird bubbling feeling of emotions that causes his eyes to tear up ever so slightly. This feeling, it's addicting. He wants to grind her up into a smoothie and drink her up, making the feeling sit there forever.
Something is wrong with him: he thinks.
With bated breath vox looked at the floor the elevator was approaching, figuring out where the girl is exactly going. There are only few reasons a sinner shows up at V tower anyway: to get a job with Valentino, or to turn yourself in if you'd wronged them. The elevator number reads '10'. She's going up to the business floor where Valentino currently is.
A sudden twist finds its way into his stomach, a horrible twist that makes his head burn with anger. Who does Val think he is? Having a girl such as her working for him. He. Couldn't let this happen, no no no no no no no. Why would he even want to exploit such a girl? She's supposed to be loves and cherished for everything she is.
The only reason she'd want to work with Val is because she has no other thing to do. He needs to offer her a job- or something to keep her from giving herself away to Valentino. Something to keep her as close to him as possible- like an intern or an assistant or anything.
Anything: Vox thinks.
Not often is Vox so reckless, not often at all. He likes to think he's decorum and well-adjusted. Likes to think he's a figure of this time. Of his time.
But right now, all he wants is this beautiful fucking girl to look at him in his eyes. Is it selfish? To want something so bad you feel like you could to horrible things to get it? Probably. But this is hell. And as an overlord of hell he can take what he wants. For once he doesn't care.
--- 666 ---
You take a step from the elevator, looking around the rather nauseating long and rounded hallway with squinted eyes. You can barely remember where you're supposed to be going anymore. You're supposed to meet Val inside one of these many, many studios. But soon enough as you start to venture through the halls on light, unsure steps you find yourself unable to read the words and numbers on each door.
Something is wrong, and you're unable to focus. There's this buzzing sound in your ears, a very faint but obvious buzzing that's causing your brain to go fuzzy. You can't feel your body anymore, it's just walking down the hallway in painful circles.
Suddenly that tether in your brain snaps with a loud crack, and your face to face with a television. You're still standing, in this long hallway, but now you're looking into the dark eyes of a TV screen. Wait- Eyes?
"Oh, Hello there sinner, are you looking for Valentino?" He asks, voice weirdly distant yet close all at the same time. His smile is large, almost devilish looking as he stares down at you.
You feel on edge, and your head still has a very faint buzzing lining itself.
"Oh, erm, Yeah.. I can't seem to recall what room-" You flinch as he hooks an arm around your neck walking you down the hallway once again with a smirk. There's a weird edge to him that you can't pin down, this whole interaction almost seems.. forced? Oh, there you go again, putting labels on things. Stop overthinking!
"Don't worry your pretty head about it! I'll take you to him," he says, unhooking his arm from your shoulder; only for him to rather sensually drag his hand across your shoulder blades until it's claws barely rest against your shoulder.
"But you know," Vox begins, swinging himself around so he stands in front of you, hands resting on either of your shoulders. You have to stop yourself from bumping into his chest. "You don't have to work for him." He says, his voice turning slightly more TV like and distant as he speaks.
"What do you mean..?" You ask, pushing his hand off of your shoulder with a painful twist of butterflies. A type of butterflies that you can't understand.
"Well, you seem like the type of gal to enjoy.." he looks you up and down, moving his hands from your shoulders as he grins. "Taking orders," you tilt your head at his words, confused. He shakes his head to himself, looking away for a moment with a slight frown before staring back, smiling brightly.
"No, I mean that you could be my assistant! You can.." He thinks for a moment, tapping the bottom of his screen as if it were his chin. He shrugs, smiling awkwardly with furrowed brows. "Bring me drinks and such! C'mon.."
He leans down to your level again, looking into your eyes. You suddenly feel that wave of disorientation go through you again, the only thing seeming to make sense to you being.. Vox.
"You don't want to be exploited by him, do you?" He says, and you feel his screen radiating heat on your skin. The buzzing becomes more loud as he goes on, all you seem to be able to hear being his words as they drip from his vile tongue. "C'mon dear, He'll break you."
"And you don't want to be broken, Right?"
He is right. You don't want to be broken by Valentino. You don't want to be exploited. But you don't have any other choice-
Until now, that is. You have an opportunity.
You should take it, right?
The headache and buzzing dissipate, taking a chunk of your psyche along with it. You feel your feet begin to give out beneath you from the exertion, lacking balance as you wobble softly. Not wanting to faceplant into the carpet, you reach out to something, anything to hold you. It just so happens to be Vox's chest, grasping onto the fabric of his coat as you begin to slip down to the floor.
"Hey, Hey, it's okay, What's got you out of sorts?" He asks, grasping you by your waist as he lifts you back to your feet. You blink, looking around for a moment with a nervous breath. Those butterflies, again. You hate them.
"I- uh.. I dunno.." You say stutter, pushing yourself away and scratching that back of your neck.
"You're feeling better?" Vox says, dipping his lids as he tilts his head rather attractively.
You nod, looking down at the ground with a nervousness inside of you.
"Good, good.." he turns away, looking at the ground and pacing for a short amount of time "good.." he says softly to himself, turning back around and clasping his hands together as he grins.
"Now how about you follow me and we can get you set up, yeah?" He says, pressing his hand against the space between your shoulder blades as he turns back to the elevator. You look up at him, and for a moment he seems to be in his own world. At least he is until you speak.
"So what's your name, Mister?" You ask, fiddling your fingers against each other nervously. He grins, lids upturning with the smile as well. He leans down again, poking a blue claw on your cheek as buzzing blurs your brain.
"It's Vox, my dear," He says, and your brain goes soft and mushy with an emotion you cannot describe. It feels as though he's making you melt.
"Keep that in your head for me, will you princess?" He asks softly, pulling his claw up the side of your face with a manic grin.
With a sudden movement he pulls away, shrugging his hands.
"Now darling, let's get back to it, shall we?"
Something is off, and part of you wants more of it.
--- 666 ---
Mister Vox's office is large in size, walls lined with screens displaying different things across the entirety of the pride ring. You wonder what Vox may do here all day, seeing the singular seat between it all that doesn't even seem that cozy.
You assume he watches, broadcasts, does meeting, and.. does what he's doing right now, perhaps?
"What do you do all day, Mister Vox?" You ask, looking wide-eyed at the television lined walls of the area. He flinches, grinning awkwardly before bringing back his confident demeanor.
"Me? Oh, you know.. this and that- I go to meetings.. I sign paperwork, I go to meetings.." He laughs to himself, shaking his hand dismissively as he sits in his seat, spreading his legs in a man spread. You turn away from the screens, looking over at Vox as he scans the monitors with narrowed eyes. You wonder if he was doing something important before he found you.
"Uh, Mister Vox, what do I do now..?" You ask, taking a small step towards him. He tilts his head towards you, smiling as he swings his chair to face you completely.
"oh, you? You can just sit there and look pretty.." Vox looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, face blank for a long moment before bringing a small smirk onto his face. He leans back in his chair, clicking his fingers as a bundle of clothing finds it's way into your hands.
"Perhaps prettier, change into that for me will you dearest?" He says, leaning his head on his fist as his voice becomes slightly more distant. You look at him, confused as you clutch the blue and red clothing to your chest.
"Okay.. Where do I change, Mister Vox?" You say, fiddling with the collar of your shirt as your body feels hot. Vox rolls his eyes playfully, pointing a clawed finger to the floor as he shifts his chair back to the screen. "Just change here my dear, no one will see you," He says, looking at you with a side glance. It's almost condescending, in a way.
"right here? But-"
"Here is fine, dear. Hell, here is more safe to change than anywhere else in this building," He laughs. You get this off feeling like you should trust him. I mean, he's one of the people owning this building anyway, right? He would be the one knowing a lot about it rather than anyone else. you should trust him.
"Okay Mister Vox."
You can't see his grin.
Every piece of clothing you peek off feels like this weird symbolism for losing yourself. Off comes your shirt: a piece is lost. Off comes your shorts: a piece of you is lost. And then more clothes come onto you, building something new. On comes a skirt: a piece of you is molded. On comes a blouse: a piece of you is molded.
And then there's this watch, a mobile one with 'Vox Tech' plastered across the side. With a shrug you put it on, struggling with getting it to tightness but ultimately managing to win the battle with the finicky strap.
"Good, good, how great you look!" He says, outstretching his hands with a grin.
You feel yourself blush, one half of you from his compliment and the other half from the fact he's looking completely in your direction. Does that mean he was watching you the whole time?
"Actually my dear, do you think you can grab me a coffee?" He asks, clicking his hands as a streak of blue energy shoots inside of the watch; this causes a mao to appear on the screen, showing where you are currently. "That map should tell you where to go, the assistant there should give you the coffee the way I like it,"
You shouldn't ask it, but you feel your bones ache too.
"How do you like it?"
He grins, tilting his head.
"Sweet with a strong flavour," He states, waving you off.
--- 666 ---
The first week as Vox's Assistant goes by smoothly, or as smoothly as it could working with an Overlord of hell. A rather odd seeming one at that.
Everything feels on edge with Vox, you feel like at any moment he could do something drastic. You've no idea what said drastic thing could be either, which makes it a whole lot more anxiety inducing. Hell, Vox is attractive. That's probably why you're on edge. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. You're probably in love with him or something.
Vox had even given you housing as close to the building as possible, insisting he pay the rent. Not that you complain, no; less walking for you it seems. The Vox Tech watch he gave you tells you pretty much everything that you need to do. When you wake up in the morning it goes off, alerting you like an alarm, it has a to do list that blares when you're in the office, it maps out the whole space, it even acts as Vox's messaging system towards you.
You do wonder how he controls it, even in the comfort of your own home. Well, he is an overlord, right? He's capable of things even outside of your grasp. You cannot even fathom what he could do with that power.
And that's just the way Vox likes it.
Actually, you haven't seen Valentino around the building the whole week either. Even in a meeting you accompanied Vox to. You'd expect to see him more often with all the prowling in and out of the building you do.
It's as if he's vanished.
"Princess, grab me a coffee will you? Maybe even grab one for yourself while you're at it, on the house," Vox asks, swiveling on his chair to face your own, which sits just off to the side of his own with a small desk in front of it. You'd been doing some paperwork for him for the past hour, mostly reading through stuff, asking him questions, and singing them for him.
"Yeah, sure.. um, I was just wondering.." You utter softly, causing Vox to raise a brow as he leans back on his chair with a confident grin. He tilts his head in question, saying: "What's on your mind, (N/N)?"
"I haven't seen Valentino around the building, I was just wondering if something's up with him?" You ask, looking down at the ground as you begin to regret yourself even questioning. Vox laughs, flapping his hand in dismissal.
"Oh, just that? Don't worry about it! He's just.." Vox pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Doing his own thing," He finishes, smiling rather oddly as he begins moving his chair back to face his computers. You intercept.
"His own thing..?"
Vox turns back to you, grinning widely with a manic look in his 2-D eyes. Once again, the buzzing fills your brain. And you fall to your knees against the ground with a painful 'thump'. Vox harshly grips your chin, pulling you closer to him until all you can see is that blaring red eye of his as he speaks.
"As i said,"
You feel yourself wanting to let go.
"Don't worry about it."
He lets you go of your trance, leaving you teary eyed as he smiles softly, brows furrowing in a sort of mocking empathetic way. His eyes drip with affection you find.
"Now, grab that coffee, okay?" He finishes, placing a cold kiss against your forehead before letting go of your chin, leaving yourself to gather your bearings.
It's not often you feel the want to defy someone. But as you stand from the floor, dusting off your skirt and walking to the elevator; you feel that need to be defiant. You'd figure out where Valentino is. He has to be somewhere in the building, right? You just have to find.. him..
In these hundreds and hundreds of doors. You would have to find him. And you can't take so long, otherwise Vox may suspect something.
You'd find someone to tell you where he is, you'd find him, and you'd stop worrying if Vox is going to do something drastic because he hasn't lied to you. Simple as that, simple as that. Right?
As it just so happens, as you begin walking through the studio halls you find yourself bumping into a spider individual, of whom you remember being a popular porn star.
So with an anxious breath you asked him. He explained that Valentino was in studio B-40, but he doesn't recommend finding him. And once again you go against someone's wishes. Plus, you were just going to stick your head in the door. It's nothing to worry about.
So what are you so anxious when you find yourself getting closer to the door? Why does your throat feel so tight? Why do you want to run in the other direction? Why does every step feel so heavy?
Taking another small step to the door, you wonder if you should listen to your conscious. It's supposed to do you good , right?
No, that's baby talk.
You aren't weak. You aren't letting the people in hell get you down! You are going to open the door!
You push yourhand towards the door handle and-
"Ouch! Fuck-" You yelp, an electric shock going through your body, causing you to fall backwards onto the hard floor below. Your whole body is on fire, you can't feel your tongue. You can't feel your brain.
A hum accompanies Vox's words.
"You're not going in there." He says, leaning over you as you push yourself to your knees, pressing yourself to the wall. Your head is throbbing.
"I'll beat him to a pulp if he sees you, you know?" Vox laughs, that sickening pseudo-empathetic look covering his flat features. You feel your stomach twist, this time in an awful way, it's like he's draining you of your soul. You want to disappear.
"I don't want to be aggressive," Vox begins as he grips your face harshly, causing tears to well into your eyes. "But your fucking mine, you got that?"
"And I won't let that sleazy prick get his greedy eyes anywhere near you!"
"W-what?" You whimper, pushing his hands from his face and backing away meekly. Vox laughs to himself, red dripping from his two dimensional mouth. He humors you with that gaze of his, eating alive any part of your confidence that may still linger.
"Oh, don't you get it, my dear? You sighed the paperwork," Vox leans down so his eyes can bore into your own, his gums showing in that prideful smile of his. "You belong to me now."
You choke on air, standing to your wobbly feet.
"W-what? I don't un-"
The paperwork. The paperwork you signed to get the job. You didn't read it! You idiot. You fucking idiot! You've ruined your own life. You belong to him..
To Vox.
"You- Shit-!" You turn around on your heels, almost slipping as you speed off into the hallway. You hear his voice echo in your ears.
"You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either!"
This was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You want to die. You want to disappear. You want to get as far away from him as possible. You don't even take the elevator down, you run down every single flight of stairs jumping down a couple to save time.
The slip beneath your feet almost makes you topple over as you clutch onto the railing, swinging yourself onto the next flight of stairs. You have to be close to the bottom, right. Right? Yeah. This is fine.
And you were, right, surprisingly. You can almost see the entrance outside. You just have to make it out of this lobby. You just have to make it out of this huge fucking stupid ass lobby! You have to.
All of the sinner's eyes bore at you as you run at top speed to the door. You can't be here. You need to leave immediately. He can't find you If you're far away, right? Just go somewhere without a camera.. it'll be fine.. everything will be fine.
You're so close! Just a few more steps, a few more heavy, headache inducing steps.
You can make it. You just have to believe in yourself, and it'll all work out. Everything will be fine. It just has to be. Hell can't be this cruel, can it?
You're so close to the door you can smell the outside world, hear the cars as they pass, hear the charter hear the-
You choke and fall.onto the ground, a heaviness around your neck and wrists. It buzzes against your skin, making you go light headed. You can barely see it, but it's there. There are handcuffs around your wrists. And a collar around your neck. All of which glowing and buzzing with that electric blue of Vox.
He is right.
You can't run, you can't hide, you can't do anything.
He owns you, he has you. You can't do anything.
You made a mistake.
Maybe hell really is this cruel.
Keeping you forever tethered to this man.
Who knew one mistake would ruin the rest of your eternity.
Serves you right for being so naive.
"Alright now, are we done with our tantrum?" Vox asks.
"Yes mister Vox." You say.
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acowardinmordor · 8 months
Text
You Left Me, You Miss Me - Five
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Continuing immediately from part Four. And I hear your screaming, and enjoy it, but I am pretty sure that I'm not going the direction you expect me to.
------
“Huh?”
“I asked them to,” Eddie repeated, quieter.
It didn’t make more sense the second time.  His kids were stubborn. They were obnoxious, and someone asking them to do, or not do something had never once changed anything. Steve spent the last few years asking them not to leave crumbs in his car, and to call before coming over, and to please, just once, let him choose the movie on a movie night. Plus the part where everyone asked them not to put themselves in danger when monsters crawled out of the ground. 
Threats didn’t work on them, law enforcement didn’t work on them, like hell was something as delicate as asking going to do a damn thing. 
“Yeah, no, I heard you, but I don’t get it. So you, what? You sat them down and asked them to ice me out? And they said ‘sure why not!’ Man, even if you asked them to, they’re still the ones that did it. Shit, you’ve never liked me. There’s no way that you didn’t tell the boys to stop hanging out with me last year during your game meetings before everything happened.” Eddie shrank further into the seat, so Steve added, “So, it’s not your fault, but I guess I forgive you if that makes you feel better.”
Eddie gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wincing at what felt like every other word.
“Shit, Steve, it’s -- Shit,” he cursed as he sloshed some of his coffee over the brim. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was curled in on himself. “I didn’t sit them down and tell them to stop talking to you. That -- no way that would work. You’re right. They wouldn’t just -- Like I said, they’re crazy about you. It’s more, it’s all of the, I told them about how ever since -- shit. Look, it doesn’t matter why or how I did it, just trust me, I’m the reason. It’s my fault, and I fucked up, and I didn’t mean it to make -- but you left, and it’s killing them, and so you gotta forgive them, at least talk to them, cause its not their fault.”
“Yeah,” Steve stalled, “still don’t get why you think this is on you, dude.”
“At the beginning it -- shit, no. Doesn’t matter. Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t make this about that. Okay. I asked them not to invite you if I was around, cause I wasn’t -- I didn’t want to see you, and then I made sure they were always around me because -- because I wanted them to. And then I, you know, kept poking at them about it when they’d bring it up, reminding them that you don’t like D&D and that you wouldn’t want to watch the new Star Trek movie, and when they said anything I just kept telling them that -- Shit, just believe me. I’m the one that made them do this, it’s my fault, it’s not them.”
Okay, so Eddie was pushier since Spring Break than he was before it. Or the kids listened to him more. Or they were trying to take care of him. So Eddie was the prompt for them cutting him out of everything. Fine.
Still didn’t make it the guy’s fault. 
Steve got close with Robin after she found out about the Upside Down. But he didn’t get close to Jonathan. Dustin became, for a while at least, his brother. Steve would die for Mike, but they didn’t hang out if it wasn’t a group thing. All of them were tied together, and any one of them could make a call, and everyone would come to help, but that didn’t make them all automatically into friends. 
God, Eddie looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown in a booth in a diner. 
“Look, it’s,” Steve spun his coffee cup, “you’re real close with the guys in your club right? The ones in your band?”
Eddie went tense, then nodded awkwardly.
“You’re close because of that stuff, though. Not just cause you had some classes together or were next to each other on a bus. You got pushed together for some random reason, but  that happened with a lot of people. But you had shared interests, right? You like that game, and you got bullied at school and you like the same loud screaming music. So you got to know each other, and you had a bunch in common, and so you guys are friends. You’re close, so even though you graduated, and you don’t have class and lunch together anymore, you’re still friends.
“Christ, Steve, no,” he protested. 
Steve ignored that and kept going.
“I never had that with the kids, or any of them. Shit. Never had that with Nance either, but I didn’t know it back then.” His inner Robin glared, and he stayed on topic. “It wasn’t as simple as sharing some classes, there were monsters and all that, but that’s what kept me and them around each other. No more monsters now, so.”
His stomach twisted, like it always did if he got too close to thinking about this. 
He only barely managed to talk about this with Robin, because when it was Robin he was honest, and when he was honest, really honest, he ended the night quiet and hurting and picking apart the past year trying to find what he could have done differently. Shoving all of that back into the dark of his mind, he conjured up a casual shrug and a smile. 
“I get that they’re probably freaking out right now, but they’ll get over it. Give it another month or two and it’ll be fine. Start one of your campaign -- your big story things and distract them if they’re bugging you about it.” 
He wiped up the coffee Eddie spilled on instinct, and shoved the napkin in his now empty cup. 
Time to get home and get a nap before he went to the stockroom that night. He wouldn’t see Robin until he picked her up for work, but they were scheduled alone, so he could talk all of this through then. Trying to pretend this day didn’t happen would last all of eight seconds of contact with his best friend. Maybe she could make sense of how he was feeling. 
“Wait, stop, you can’t leave yet.”
“Munson, I’ve been here since before dawn, I wanna leave.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to talk to them. They miss you.”
“They didn’t six weeks ago, did they? Or for the holidays? Or for the months before that, huh?” Steve finally snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry. Answer’s still no.”
He bussed their cups and the creamer to the pass through and grabbed his coat and gloves. Steam rose off Hopper’s truck where he had the engine running to keep warm. They exchanged a single nod before Steve turned towards the road to walk home. 
“Steve!” 
It wasn’t a shock to hear, but Steve had hoped that Eddie wouldn’t follow. 
“Okay, I get that you’re not going to just forgive them, and that you don’t want to talk to them, but--”
“No. I don’t. And I know you think this is your fault, and I’m telling you it’s not, and I told you, I’m not mad at you about this. We weren’t friends. I’m not mad at you for not wanting me around or whatever. That’s fine. And? They’ll get over it, and everyone can just move on with their lives with the people they actually like.”
Steve’s stupid voice betrayed him, cracking, and he cut off the rest of what he might have said. Anger was the fastest way to shut down weakness, and it was easy for him to sink into it.  
Eddie had his hands in his hair, clutching at it near his temples, looking borderline hysterical. 
“Would you at least listen if they talked?”
“They don’t have my phone number, and if you tell them where I live, I’ll send Mrs Buckley after you. And Hopper.”
“You could call them.”
“No.”
It wasn’t about who placed the call. If he heard them, if they said a fraction of what he wanted to hear, he’d cave, immediately and entirely, and then both the real life Robin, and the mini Robin in his brain would give him hell. 
“Steve come on, something, anything. Letters? If they write letters?”
“I’m not giving them my address, and Hopper already asked about mailing stuff through him instead. No.”
It was cold and he was tired. Just about the only person in the party that he didn’t care had abandoned him was trying to pull Steve back into the vat of slow simmering pain he was still climbing out of. 
“Look, Eddie --”
“I’ll drive them. The letters. You don’t even have to answer, or read them. Let me tell them that I can bring you letters, and I’ll drive them up here. If you do want to answer I’ll wait and then drive whatever it is back. As many times as you want.”
“Come on, man.”
“I won’t even -- I don’t have to know where you live, or your number, anything. I can come here. To the diner. Won’t even come inside, just drop them off and wait. You won’t have to talk to me, or see me. Just, come on. Even if you never forgive them, or answer them, let them have this. Even if you don’t read what they say, let them think they got to apologize.”
The wind shifted, and Steve tucked his chin into his coat to wait it out. 
Eddie was shivering two steps away, gloveless hands shoved under his arms, hair tangling into more of a mess than usual. 
“That’s a stupid idea, Munson,” he said when the gust stopped, “If they know that you know where I am, and you don’t tell them, they’re going to hate you. They’d drive you insane trying to get you to tell them, and they’d be horrible the whole time. They already ditched me for you, so, don’t make them hate you too.”
“They already hate me.” The response was immediate and defeated.
“Dude, they don’t.”
“They do. They figured it out a few weeks ago. That I was the reason. Just cause you don’t get it doesn’t mean they don’t. This is my fault. They already hate me. They won’t even talk to me long enough to yell. They act like I don’t exist.”
“Christ, Munson, is that why you’re up here, freezing your ass off in a parking lot and bitching at me? So you can get them to like you by getting me to talk to them?”
Eddie flinched. Didn’t say anything for a minute as he shivered with wide eyes. Then, without any of the dramatics the guy was known for, “Please, Steve. Even if you throw them out right after. Let them write to you, and let me tell them the truth when I say you got them. I think they can survive if they don’t hear back. They’ll blame me, but that’s fine, they should. The silence is what’s killing them. They need to say how -- they need to believe that you heard how sorry they are.”
It was so fucking cold it was making Steve’s eyes water. That was the only reason for it. The cold front that came in overnight.
“I’m not gonna promise to read them,” he caved.
The tension collapsed out of Eddie, and he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. 
“I work here in the mornings Monday through Wednesday every week. You should drop them off then. M’not saying I’ll read them, or write anything back, but if they want to write, fine.” 
Eddie nodded over and over, hiding behind his hands, and whisper-mumbling something that Steve couldn’t catch. He was shaking again. The kind of full body wracking that meant the cold was sinking deep.
“Christ, go get in Hop’s truck before your fingers freeze off or something.” 
Without waiting for a response, or checking that he listened, Steve turned and kept walking. Another gust of wind tore through him, loud enough that he wouldn’t have heard another call of his name. It was a good thing that John messed up the big combo that morning, and Steve had eaten it during the lull after breakfast. He wasn’t going to manage anything else until tomorrow at the earliest. 
That was assuming Robin didn’t kill him on the spot for his stupid, stupid decision. 
Ten steps down the road, and he already regretted it. Even if he didn’t read anything, even if they never sent anything, the choice would sit like a rock in his gut; a new ache, a new bruise, and Steve was dumb enough that he’d keep poking at it. 
---
I'm sad that this is two chapters without Robin. That's some kind of a crime. Can guarantee that Robin has Strong Opinions about this when she talks to Steve that night.
I don't do tag lists or regular updates, and I have no shame about that.
>>>>>Part Six
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
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