#|[ no help from city lights | aesthetic ]|

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Not as Tough as You Look !

genre: smut, crack

paring: emo vinyl store worker ! beomgyu x vinyl collector ! reader

Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, choking !!!! grinding, riding, creampie, handjob, hair pulling, nipple play, degrading, fucking in a record store but there’s no one there, beomgyu has his nipples pierced and a thigh tattoo hehe and also his eyebrow pierced bc why not he’d look so fine

Word count: 3.7k

With your crippling vinyl collection addiction, you ticked off yet another record store on your list with a sigh, making your way to the next using trusty google maps and a determined gaze.

So far, you hadn’t been able to find your favourite band, Red Jellyfish’s vinyl in any of the stores you’d been in and you’d made it your sole mission to check out every single record store in your city in hopes of finding it to add to your ever growing collection.

It wasn’t the most financially stable hobby, yes, what with some records being so unreasonably pricey these days. And yes, technically you could listen to the albums for free online anytime instead. But that defeated the purpose! They just wouldn’t get the satisfying feeling of owning a shelf of your own physical music and whenever you added more to it. Also, music just sounded so much better spinning around on a record player in your bedroom and adding to the nostalgic ambience and aesthetic. It simply made you content.

Obtaining Red Jellyfish currently, however, was serving as a difficult task. It was always the case with more obscure bands but it just made it more riveting trying to find vinyls for them.

You arrived at the next, walking in and the arrays of endless records welcoming you, the place had a funky 70s vibe to it and was decorated as so with a cool layout. You noticed a listening booth, unusual to have in most record shops nowadays and this one was also unusually large, serving more as a separate small room with a record player and sofas so customers could have a listen. You loved listening booths and this definitely was a very cool record store. You’d be coming in again for sure.

Your thoughts are quickly dissipated, however, at the sight of the very cute worker stood behind the counter. You stop in your tracks and find yourself unable to look away, the purpose of why you actually came in the first place long forgotten.

He was unbelievably attractive with a long, shaggy wolfcut and bangs that half covered his eyes, adorned with an eyebrow piercing that added to his emo-esque look, sporting an oversized band shirt and baggy jeans and he had the most prettily sculpted features ever. The bottom of his soft brown eyes underlined ever so slightly with black eyeliner making his gaze rather intimidating.

“Hey, do you need any help?”

That snaps you back from your reverie and you jolt, unsure how long you were just weirdly observing him.

“Huh? Oh…no. Just looking….” Wow, even his voice was really nice.

He raises his pierced eyebrow at that and a knowing smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah? At what exactly? Vinyls or someone?” He bursts into laughter then and you feel your cheeks heat up, cocky and confident waves radiating off of him. Oh, he knew he was hot.

“W-what? No!” You scoff and clear your throat, embarrassed.

He chuckles still and beams at you, brushing his bangs away from his face with his hands, rings scattered on some of his fingers. God, even his hands were attractive. “Uh huh. But seriously, Would you like any assistance? It is my job after all.”

“Well actually,” You clear your throat and straighten your posture, attempting to play it cool and forget, you were still on a mission, you must not get side tracked by pretty boys. “you wouldn’t happen to have the band Red Jellyfish would you?”

His eyes light up almost immediately, “No way! I love Red Jellyfish. I’ve never come across another fan before! And we certainly do.” He grins and disappears into the back, soon arriving with the vinyl in hand and excitedly handing it to you, “They’re finally coming out with a second album after years. I’m so excited!”

“Same. I didn’t think they’d ever end up making music again after how long their hiatus was.” You enthusiastically agree, happy to find someone who also shared a liking for the band.

“Wouldn’t really take you to listen to emo music to be honest...” The cute emo boy looks you up and down, referring to your not so dark and edgy outfit and he’s grinning again.

“Yeah well, I guess you could say I have a pretty eclectic music taste.” You shrug, rolling your eyes jokingly at him. “Although I'm not really well versed on emo music besides that.”

You notice his big brown eyes beam even more with excitement, beginning to talk animatedly. “You should definitely listen to more. It’s great and it has a lot of range and sub genres and there’s some really good bands and! And-“ He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and stops himself, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, you just want to pay for your album and go.” He smiles apologetically at you and presses buttons on the cash register instead to calculate the price for you.

You shake your head and laugh, finding it more so endearing. "No. In fact, you’ve convinced me. I’ll definitely get into it more and listen to some bands. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” He was super cute. You’d let him talk your ear off all day to be honest.

His eyes turn into little crescent moons at that as he smiles broadly and you can’t help swooning internally once again. “Ooh I definitely have to give you some recs and make you a playlist! What’s your number?”

That’s how you find yourself squealing after leaving the store and not only managing to obtain the album you’d been extensively searching for, but also the very, very hot emo boy worker’s number. You’ll be telling your friend Soobin for sure all about it.

The emo boy indeed had a name, you'd discovered after exchanging numbers, Beomgyu, he’d told you. And you hadn’t been able to get the name out of your head ever since.

Him making a playlist for you didn’t really mean anything, he was just giving recommendations and being nice and friendly. But still, you’ll allow yourself to be a bit delusional about it. It was still a cute boy making a playlist for you! Even if it was pretty impersonal.

Later on into the night you receive a text that makes you giddy all over.

Hey, it’s Beomgyu ! We met earlier at the record shop. I made the playlist of emo recs already hehe :) let me know what u think ;)

Along with the text was a Spotify link to the playlist and you end up spending your whole night just listening to it.

As you got to know the genre better. You appreciated it a lot more and found you actually liked a lot of the songs, particularly the more screamo ones. The screaming and whining itched your brain and you were fascinated how much vocal control they had to be able to scream yet sing at the same time. You make a mental note of all your favourites and decide to tell him in person, since it’d give an excuse to see him again.

You walk to the store the next day and you're glad to see him behind the counter and not someone else. “I listened to all the songs. They were really good.”

“Already?” He raises his brow in surprise to see you again, lopsided grin on his face and head tilted.

“Well…yeah?” You scratch your head. You don’t why you feel slightly embarrassed about that.

Beomgyu leans over the counter excitedly, “Which ones did you like?” Suddenly, a vinyl album comes full swinging at Beomgyu and smacks the back of his head hard. You stand, astonished.

“Oww! What the fuck?” Beomgyu rubs his poor head in attempt to soothe it and turns around to the suspect.

"You better be working and not talking your ass off, Choi Beomgyu!!" His manger, yeonjun, you observe from his tag comes into view and stands with narrowed eyes at him.

“I’m taking a break!” Beomgyu waves with his hand, trying to shoo him away so he could continue his conversation with you.

“You just started your shift?!!”

“So! 9-5s are hard…” Beomgyu pouts and looks at you as if to back him up.

Yeonjun shakes his head, hand to his nose bridge, "You know I'd fire you right?"

"You wouldn't because you love me. And I’m your best friend." Beomgyu proudly smirks to him.

"Debatable..." Yeonjun sighs defeatedly and walks off to restock a shelf instead, beomgyu completely ignoring him and going back to the conversation with you.

After that, you become close friends with the boy, frequenting the vinyl shop for records, but mostly an excuse just so you could converse with him. You seem to develop a music rec relationship, sharing playlists and recommending each other songs and then giving your own opinions to each other.

To be honest, getting to hangout with beomgyu like that was the highlight of your days and you’d grown to like him a lot. He was fairly easy going and nice to talk to, even if the conversation fell short on your side given you weren’t that socially competent, he always managed to keep it going and you loved hearing his funny ramblings and stories he’d passionately go on about. You found a lot of what he did just so endearing.

He was also a massive flirt. And it seemed you weren’t the only person who noticed just how hot the boy behind the counter was as a lot of the times you were there, girls were batting their eyelashes up at him and coming into the store just to flirt with him too. You didn’t blame them. He'd flirt with you from time to time as well but you tried not to dwell too much on it, figuring it was simply just his personality.

Even if you were just probably friends, you were happy to have gained a friendship anyway. He brought colour into your usual mundane day to day living and you hadn’t made a new genuine friend in so long, something that was seemingly rarer the more you got into adulthood. And so, you just appreciated the friendship. Even if he you had developed the teeniest crush on him. Well, probably more than that.

Soobin had been nagging you for days on end about wanting to see this beomgyu guy for himself you'd talk about and doubting that he was so fine like you say, that you end up giving in and dragging him along to the record store with you as well one day.

Upon seeing you walk in, Beomgyu's eyes light up happily, resembling that of a puppy seeing their owner finally arriving back home and he smiles...then he sees the tall guy following in behind you and his demeanour suddenly changes, head tilted and frowning, lips more in a pout.

Once you walk up to the counter with a vinyl Soobin wanted, beomgyu stares coldly and cautiously for a rather strange time at the tall blonde innocently sipping on his boba tea besides you and eventually speaks up. "Is he like, your...boyfriend?"

Soobin splutters and chokes on his drink and both of you wave your hands in a frenzy, "No!"

"Oh!" And he's back to his usual cheery self, smiling contently, a bit unsettling to both you and soobin as you exchange a wary look. "Yeah. It’s good he isn’t…” Beomgyu stares back at soobin with a look of such distaste and disgust.

You leave the store after paying not without trying to reassure a grumbly Soobin who looked like he was about to throw hands any second. “What did he mean it's good he isn't?!” He mocks beomgyu’s voice and scoffs. “I feel offended! Is he saying I’d make a bad boyfriend?! He doesn’t like me? Well I don’t like him. Bitch.”

You sigh, patting your frowning friend on the back, not sure what else to say at the strange interaction.

Finally, the day Red Jellyfish’s album drops arrived and although it took absolutely everything in you not to listen to it instantly, both you and beomgyu had promised each other you’d listen together in the listening booth after his shift. So the day seems to drag on and on as you anticipate and waited for the evening when beomgyu would at last finish.

You zoom to the store when it’s finally time, seeing him tidying and closing up. You sit down onto the orange funky sofa in the listening booth as beomgyu placed the album into the record player before taking a seat next to you, both holding in your breath as the first track plays, and then swapping an excited glance with widened eyes to each other as soon as the guitar melody starts playing and the bass also comes in, both remaining silent as you enjoy the song and listen attentively to what was going on. It was already so sick.

Once it ends you both excitedly gush over the new song before the second tracks rolls on. It’s a lot slower and more dreamy and ambient. The guitar distorted and playing a pretty rolling arpeggio and giving off the genre of a more shoegaze piece.

You stare at beomgyu’s concentrated face and he stares back. He really is so gorgeous, the pretty song seemingly reflecting this as you can’t help but admire him. You can’t help it either when your eyes flicker to his seriously pretty rounded lips for a second, wondering what it’d feel like to have them pressed with yours…

It seems it doesn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu either as he shuffles even closer to you, his scent intoxicating you as he grins smugly, looking down at your own lips that has you malfunctioning. He tucks in a strand of your hair behind your ear, still gazing and corners of his mouth pulling up, smiling at you.

There’s this underlying tension and the album you’d been heavily anticipating for months, the last thing on your mind, dissolving into background noise as the only thing you can think of is beomgyu and how close he is to you. It’s hard to hold back anymore.

He inches closer and closer and he kisses you. Finally kisses you, and you melt into the kiss with him, making out fervently.

He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist and tracing kisses on your neck instead that makes you gasp. “Couldn’t help it anymore…so pretty. Always make my day whenever you come in.” Beomgyu whispers lowly, brushing his lips lightly against your ear which makes you shiver and the corners of his mouth curl into that stupid grin you’ve seen many times.

But then you decide to roll your hips against his and grind against his cock in his jeans and he falters instantly, mouth parting ‘o’ shaped and he whimpers high pitched, so unlike him. His ears and cheeks flush red and your movements stop. “S-shit sorry. Did I ruin it? That was really weird, fuck. Sorry.” Beomgyu averts your gaze, apologising profusely and embarrassed, bottom lip quivering slightly you notice. His whole demeanour changes. You’ve only ever seen beomgyu embarrassed a short handful of times, usually so sure of himself, but it only makes you go more crazy for him.

“Wanna act all tough but that’s all it takes and it’s all crumbling down, huh?” You grin, finding the boy and the way he’s shying underneath you suddenly so amusing. He still doesn’t make eye contact, cheeks even more impossibly red, “Look at me, baby.” You lift his chin up, seeing the way he reacts to the pet name, his eyes slightly widening.

“No. Don’t want to. Too embarrassed.” Beomgyu pouts cutely, you chuckle and coo at him, stroking his cheek which he leans into. You begin to grind against him again and take the lead in kissing him, his hands shaking and gripping your waist even tighter as he attempts to stifle his whimpers, eyes tightly shut. You kiss and suck down his neck as well, determined to leave hickeys in their wake. You’re surprised by how easily he submits to you. You like it a lot.

You pull the oversized band shirt he wears over his head and unzip his ripped jeans. The sight your met with however making you audibly gasp, his pink nipples prettily pierced through and the top of his plush thigh tattooed in a pattern of a heart and lines branching out like thorns. It makes you even more feral.

Gripping the pretty flesh of his tatted thigh, you begin to jerk off his cock which was flushed and leaking precum anyway as he waited for you to do something. He whines and moans into your ear as you pump your hand up and down on his length, head buried deep in your neck.

You can feel his heavy breaths and the drool on you and his whole body twitches and squirms when you place your free hand on one of his nipples instead, rolling the bud in your fingers and twisting which elicits a strangled moan out of him, clinging to you even tighter when you ruthlessly pump his cock, thumb toying with the slit on the head of dick and also still toying with his now puffy nipples. You can feel the drool dribble down your neck now. And you know he’ll cum any second, added ministrations on his pretty tits not helping him from restraining at all, so sensitive especially ever since he got them pierced.

“F-fuckk..hah..Please. Can I cum?” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with wet doe eyes. He’s so unexpectedly pliant in your hands, you’d give him anything if he looked up at you like that. And so you do, allowing him to cum, he whines loudly and squirts making a pretty mess, cum coating his tattoo on his thigh.

You’re not anywhere near done with him yet though and you hover over his dick, bringing the head to slide over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink completely down on his wet and sticky cock. Beomgyu throws his head back and groans, biting his lip hard at the feeling of his cock inside your warm pussy and you begin to slowly ride him, sucking in air loudly.

“Mmh fuck pull my hair too. It’s okay I like it rough-ah s-shit. Can take anything you give me” Beomgyu stutters and throws an arm over his head, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

So you tug and pull at the strands of his long hair and tangle and run your hands in his scalp, it makes him moan even louder, looking absolutely in bliss, you could tell just how much he liked his hair being pulled and pull with even more force, his eyes glazing up and mind all mushy and hazy now as you continued to fuck him and tug on his scalp. He looked so slutty and you can’t help telling him.

“Such a slut.” He just whines loudly in response. “You like being called a slut, huh? Wanna be my toy, my pet, my slut?

“Y-yeah-ah so good-holyy s-shit” He just nods vigorously, so dumbed out at this point, jaw hanging dumbly open. “W-wait squeeze my neck please.…”

You didn’t think beomgyu would be such a freak either.

“Are you sure, beomgyu?”

He strenuously nods and begs you. “Yeahh..need it please. I can take anything.” He gently takes your hand on his own and brings it to press down on his neck. He still stares at you with his big round brown eyes. It was honestly a confusing juxtaposition, the way he looked at you innocently whilst asking you to do something so obscene as choking him.

You squeeze his pretty neck either way and watch as he hisses and his face scrunches up gorgeously, veins in his neck popping out and grunting, you fuck him ruthlessly bouncing on his cock and the squelching so loud and clear and evident despite the music still playing on the record player.

You can’t help feeling possessive over him, finally having him beneath you, all yours to use, remembering all the girls that come in everyday to flirt with him and you get to have him all to yourself . Imagine the look on their faces if they could see beomgyu right now, your hands still lightly squeezing his neck and riding him. You kinda wish you could mark him all over.

“H-harder…choke me harder” Beomgyu gulps.

It makes your pace on his cock even faster and so rough and you press down on his neck ever harder. His jaw clenches, neck and face red and eyebrows furrowed. He gasps for air, letting out the prettiest loud and whiny breathy noises.

His breath hitches with every unrelenting bounce on his cock and he struggles to breathe, eyes heavy lidded and so fucked out, a distant look on his face, you press down just a little bit more on his neck and his eyes roll to back of his head, a long strangled high pitched moan coming out of him as he bucks his hips up and convulses, spurting heaps of his cum inside you and it brings you over the edge too. He can’t stop cumming it seems, shaking and endlessly panting and still squirting inside you as you basically milk him. You can see the red imprint of your hand on his pretty neck along with the numerous hickeys you left, it was definitely a sight to see.

It takes a while for beomgyu to recover from his high after how good you fucked him but he eventually speaks up, clinging to you. “Sooo, I got two tickets to see red jellyfish…Would you possibly want to go with me?” He grins and pants, biting his lip, still out of breath and bangs damp from sweat, pierced eyebrow raised and head tilted as he waited your answer.

You chuckle wrapping your arms around him tightly, kissing him again. “I’d love to.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: this is probably really messy bc I haven’t proof read. Writer’s block is actually so hard 😭😭

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #sub! txt #sub beomgyu #beomgyu x reader

[fxdeawayyouth]

// tag dump //

#|[ celebrate life at the end of the earth | ooc ]| #|[ life fucks me up sometimes but i don't wanna miss it | ic ]| #|[ just wanna be something | self promo ]| #|[ hope you're doing fine on your own | promo ]| #|[ we can watch the highlights in hell | saved ]| #|[ what's left to lose? | memes ]| #|[ are you alive am i awake ? | asks ]| #|[ no help from city lights | aesthetic ]| #|[ been tryin hard getting through to you | open starter ]| #|[ what's left to lose | asks ]| #|[ this earth will never know my knees | self ]| #|[ weeks pass the earth is turning | queue ]| #|[ all this overthinking's got me thinking | musing ]| #|[ be sure to write it down when i hit rock bottom | dash comm / games ]| #|[ idiot hours | crack ]| #|[ keeps me awake and it keeps me alive | headcanon ]| #v || could feel the reaper waiting in the tall grass || twewy #v || every breath is catharsis || post neo #v || nothing felt like home || post twewy #v || only a game || neo

[moonchildstyles]

would elan y/n like fashion week? would harry go with her as her bodyguard or her boyfriend?

wordcount: 3.6k+

—————

(Y/N) stood still as Dom fluttered around her, his hands making the finishing touches on his vision. As soon as the invitation to sit in on some of the premier shows of Paris Fashion Week—front row, no less—he'd been dreaming up an entire scheme of different looks and aesthetics for her to conquer. Sketches and rounds of approval started the process, only to finish with a handful of tedious fittings until they landed on the final looks. A handpicked team accompanied them to the city, complete with hairstylists and makeup artists (Y/N) had only ever seen on her socials. While it wasn't the first time she'd attended Fashion Week shows, this was the first time she had been invited to go international at the invitation of a few of the houses, and Dom wanted to ensure it wouldn't be the last. 

First up: the Jean Paul Gaultier show and the silken outfit Dom had put together. 

As soon as she finished her breakfast that morning, she had been settled in the eye of the whirlwind that was her team, readying her for the show. Dom was insistent on finishing her off in time for a personal photoshoot to be done to add to his portfolio (and her Instagram) as well as hitting the small carpet that would be set up outside of the show for her to be pictured for the event. Everything was going to be perfect, he promised. 

(Y/N) went along with every one of his whims, standing, bending, and contorting exactly how he wanted until he finally came around for the finishing touches. From the corner of her eye, as Dom perfected the effortless-but-purposeful folds, she could see Harry lingering in the corner of the room, his watchful eye stuck on her. 

Seeing him like this, her view obstructed with glamorous hands flitting around her form, took her back to the day of the 132 Gala. Back then, he had barely met her eye for longer than a second, glancing at her before he would force himself to pull away. Now, he held no shame, raking his gaze over her body, taking in the cut of her dress, cinch of her curves, and every angle of her form. There was even a slight curl to his lips, lopsided with only a single dimple. She wished she knew what was going on in his head, but with the way he kept flicking down to the lace up boots that went high up her thighs she had an inkling. 

"What do you think? How do you feel? Anything you want to change?" Dom fired off, taking (Y/N)'s attention from her bodyguard and back to the task at hand. 

Across from her stood a full length mirror, giving her a complete look of her archival look and all of the details that went into making her impact. 

Reflected back at her was her own made up eyes, complete with a light sweep of blush heading up her temples, minimal eye makeup, and a muted, blurry cherry shade patted over her lips. Her hair was piled high above her head, extensions and heat-rolled curls were folded around her face to give the illusion of a halo—like the Gaultier shows from decades before they were taking their inspiration from. The star of the show was the archive piece from Gaultier themselves, white silk draped over her body with a low cut down her chest that ended high on her thighs, though the fabric was cinched around her waist with the help of a matching, gauzy  corset. It was tied tight around her middle, complete with three different sets of laces—two of which were tied at her sides with one down the center as well holding the entire piece together.

Her look was completed with a small red bag that matched the thigh high boots cinched over her legs, dyed a bright scarlet red that conformed to her shape. They were the statement piece of the look, and, watching Harry's wandering eye, they were doing their job of catching attention. 

(Y/N) smiled at her reflection, flicking her eyes away from Harry's form in the background to look to Dom. "I like it," she told him, "I feel good, I don't think we need to change anything." 

"Me neither, darling!" Dom beamed, taking her in with pride as if she were his next piece of art in his exhibit. "We'll do photos and then we go!" 

With that, Dom dismissed the glam team after calling for a final meeting this afternoon to finalize the look for tomorrow's Yves Saint Laurent show. He flitted through the room, thinking aloud as he searched for the missing photographer. Now alone, (Y/N) didn't hesitate before turning on her red heel and looking to Harry with a beaming smile on her lips. 

"What do you think?" She reached out for him, her purse hanging off of her wrist. 

Harry came to her in slow strides, taking her in with lingering drags of his eyes. When he met her eyes through the fan of his lashes, a sly grin tugged at his lips. "I don't know if y'want me to say." 

"Why not?" she asked, smiling at the way he smiled despite not being entirely sure where he was going. 

"Y'said y'don't like it when I get you all flustered before we go out," he drawled, reaching her with his arms going around her waist, "Y'told me y'think it looks obvious in pictures that you've got something on your mind." 

Happily falling into his hold, she understood where he was going with his declaration. "Because it is," she said, putting her manicured nails through his hair, "You can check any of the articles dissecting my body language when we're out, and they'll tell you that we just had sex and I can't stop thinking about it." 

He only shrugged at her claim, instead pushing forward and dotting a careful kiss on her lipsticked lips. 

"That's how I know 'm doing m'job," he murmured, pulsing his arms around her middle. His fingertips skated over the faux ties on her sides, "But, really, y'look gorgeous. 'M excited to see everyone's reaction at the show." 

(Y/N) brightened at his praise, "You think they'll like it?" 

"Sweet girl," he said, shaking his head before pulling away just enough to give her a slow appraisal, "they're going to love it. Gonna be asked to be put right in the show, I think." 

Taking in the soft of his eyes, the genuine sincerity he always laid upon her, (Y/N) couldn't hold back her smile, "Maybe."   It was her turn then to catch him in a kiss then. Though she was aware of the careful red stain on her lips, she was much too focused on the warmth of his words filtering through her system to truly care. Her arms were draped over his shoulders, fingers carding through the delicate curls on the back of his head as she sunk into their kiss. His hands on her waist tightened, keeping her close as she felt the very small curl of his lips as he smiled against her. 

It wasn't until she parted her lips, a brief taste of his tongue over her mouth, that the door to the bedroom that had been designated as her dressing room was pushed open. Dom's singsong voice filtered through, declaring something about photos only to be cut off at the sight that greeted him. 

"Oh, come on, (Y/N)," he sighed, sounding like a petulant child, "You couldn't have done this before?" 

Truthfully, she couldn't be upset with Dom for his exasperation—especially since he was one of the few who knew the real story behind she and Harry, and hadn't sold the story immediately. The effort that had gone into her makeup wasn't something she took for granted, though Harry was just too enticing at times for her to resist. Today included. 

Nonetheless, she untangled herself from around him, conscious of the red stain that now clung to the center of Harry's lips. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling her skin warm when she saw the disappointed look on Dom's face, "I can fix it if it's messed up." 

Dom waved her off, storming through the room in the flourishing way he always did, "No, no, I'll call Cassandra. Just, no more (Y/N)—you too." He pointed an accusatory finger right at Harry. 

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw Harry do nothing more than bundle his hands behind his back and take a step away in surrender though there was still a less-than-hidden curl amusing his lips. 

"No more," (Y/N) repeated with a nod of her head, "Sorry." 

Harry let out a huff of laughter at her side. 

—————

Flashbulbs burned (Y/N)'s eyes, even when she blinked. She posed, changing every minute to allow for new shots as she made her way down the carpet. Her name was falling from French-accented lips, calling for her attention. Giving herself a break, she looked towards her booted feet, taking a breath when the smile fell from her lips. 

She must have taken too long when she felt a gentle hand land on her back, between her shoulder blades and on the bare skin displayed by the cut in the back of her dress. The static of someone's presence clung to her when their head dipped down close to her ear. 

"You alright?" Harry murmured, voice low for only her to hear. 

Aware of the cameras that were now snapping like crazy, taking in every angle and every breath of this moment, (Y/N) turned to him, catching his eyes. "I'm okay," she assured him, giving a small nod of her head to follow after the tiny smile on her lips, "Just needed a break from the lights." 

"'S a lot today," he agreed, decidedly grim when he let his eyes graze over the barricade of photographers, "Y'want to cut it short and go in?" 

(Y/N) shook her head, "I'll be okay. Thank you." 

It was the way that Harry's gaze lingered over her, washing over her features and cataloging each of her details, that showed her he wasn't asking as a bodyguard. This was Harry—her mon amour—asking if she was ready to leave, ready for him to rescue her out of this moment. (Though he was never one to bring it up, she was sure times like these brought up the night of the 132 Gala and the nonstop probing she had gone through). 

Whatever he saw on her face seemed to be enough to assure him. A reciprocating smile touched his features before he stepped away, melting into the background once again. 

Tuning back into the moment, (Y/N) heard the clicks of the cameras and the call of her name again like the bubbling of the ocean. She didn't allow herself to think too hard before she fell into her role, a bright smile settling on her lips and lashes fluttering just right for the shots. 

Even with all of the eyes on her, there was only one pair she felt warming her back. 

—————

The final pass of the pieces were paraded down the runway, models stomping in fanciful heels with billowing fabrics and structured shoulders. Muted tones dominated the collection, complete with sparkling jewels and artful embroidery. (Y/N) clapped along with the rest of the audience as she filed away the pieces she would definitely be passing along to Dom that she could see being added to their repertoire. 

It had been a truly beautiful show, and not just because she had been invited to sit in the front row, but she was ready for it to be over. It had been a long show, and one that she wished Harry could sit next to her through, so she actually knew someone she was seated by. Her anxiety had been on a low simmer in the back of her mind, causing her to sit stiffly and shift carefully in her seat. While she was used to cameras and the lingering threat of out-of-context videos being posted, she wanted so badly to do well here—leave the opportunity open of possibly being invited back. The expectation kept her on edge.

Seeing the end of the show allowed her lungs to finally fill, knowing that she would be granted a reprieve soon. Standing ovations were given once the designer made their way down the runway alongside the models, (Y/N) joining in with a beaming smile on her features. 

It wasn't long after a quiet round of thank yous were given out by the designer, the models being dismissed to backstage, that the audience began to filter out. (Y/N) stretched to the full of her height, heels tottering on flooring. The few acquaintances she made at her bench told her goodbye, giving small hugs and bids to see her once more at the afterparties that night, eventually leaving her and her tiny bag by herself as she drifted towards the exit. 

Coming from whatever corner he huddled himself into during the show, Harry joined her side with his eyes scanning ahead for their next steps. He looked down at her when he landed a hand on the small of her back, a bounce of his brows when he caught her already looking to him. 

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, voice a low rumble for only her to hear. 

She gave him a nod of her head, automatic smile landing on her lips. "Yeah. I think I just need to breathe a little." 

With that, (Y/N) could see the gears beginning to turn in his head. There was a plan being stitched together in his mind, ready to take her wherever he could get her a fresh breath of air and privacy. 

Handing over all of her trust, (Y/N) followed wherever he guided her, keeping her footing steady in her boots. The patrons around them thinned the closer they came to the exit as people filtered out and left down the grandiose stairs leading up to the hall. He seemed to know the space better than her, taking her down the stairs until he steered her away from the waiting cars and gathered photographers. The path he took looped around the banister of the concrete stairs, following the line of the building until they reached a quiet alcove, complete with employee only entrances and a set of dumpsters. 

The rustling of footsteps and sea of voices was far off enough now, letting (Y/N) put her guard down without any watchful eyes around. Harry's hand on her back shifted until it became an arm around her waist, his head ducking into her line of sight with the lillypad of his eyes matching hers. 

"Thank you," she said, the words coming out on a plume of air, "What did you think of the show?" 

The warmth of his eyes glazed over her, the tick in his jaw settling once he saw there really was nothing upsetting he other than the need for a breather. "It was good—interesting. Long." 

A small breath of laughter fell from her lips. "I know. It was really long, but super cool. There were a few things in there that I think I'm going to talk to Dom about." 

"Yeah?" Harry smiled, his features softening with dimples sitting in his cheeks, "Which ones?" 

His amusement only grew as she bubbled off about the pieces that caught her eye, his attention centered only on her as she spoke. His arm around her waist was warm and anchoring, keeping her in their quiet moment. (Y/N) felt warm under his gaze, the familiarity of his presence helping her down from that simmer of anxiety. 

"That corset one was really cool," he agreed, nodding his head when she vaguely described the piece, "You'd look really pretty in it, I think." 

"Thank you," she smiled, though she was halfway sure he had no idea what garment she was talking about. Delicately her hands landed on his chest, fingers denting through his clothes. "I wish you could have sat with me—I think I would have felt better." 

There was a small curl to his lips, a single dimple in his cheek. "Me too, but I saw y'made some friends." 

"Yeah," she sighed, her grip on his tightening just enough, "But, you know I get nervous. I didn't want to bother anyone incase anyone was video taping or anything." 

His smile fell then, turning his lips into a grim line of his hard features. That was something he was still getting used to—the constant access people felt they had to her, as well as the paranoia that followed when it came to that.

"I know," he mumbled, tugging her close with his arm around her waist, "But, 's over now, and you still had a little fun, right?" 

"I did," she assured him, her own features softening into a smile in hopes of lifting his spirit, "It was really cool. I've always wanted to go to one of these shows, and now I have." 

His hand on her waist gave a small squeeze, a jump of laughter pulsing from her lungs at the touch. "Good," he crooned, loosening at the sound of her laugh, "Did y'want to go to any of the parties tonight, or were y'wanting to stay in still?" 

"Probably stay in," she answered, leaning into him that much more, "I'm still tired from the flight." 

"Me, too. We'll watch one of our cooking shows tonight then, and head to bed before the next shows tomorrow." 

There was a warmth in her chest at the solid plan Harry handed her. She knew Dom would still be disappointed that she was forcing him to shelve another archival look while she stayed in tonight, but at least she would be with Harry. 

(Y/N ) didn't think before she placed her hands on his cheeks, fingertips stretching into the baby curls of his hairline. Her eyes fluttered to a close as she leant forward, tipping her chin and pressing her lips to his. Harry's arm around her kept her in a close hug to his chest, his nose nudging hers as he turned his head just right to catch her top lip between his two. 

There would no doubt be a stain on his lips, glistening with a hint of red, but she would take care of it later. (Y/N) would prefer to melt into him while she could. 

It was only when there was the scratch of someone's shoe against the concrete, that Harry pulled away. In a second his gaze was scanning around them, finding only a single patron heading down the stairs from over their heads. His eyes followed them for a moment, waiting to see if their hiding spot had been found. When there wasn't even so much as a second glance towards their huddled position, she felt his chest deflate in her arms. 

"Ready to head back?" he asked, turning back to face her once more, his eyes blooming over her. 

Taking advantage of the quiet, (Y/N) pressed her lips to his cheek once more before untangling her limbs with only her hand in his. "Yeah," she said, giving him a nod, "I think we left the driver waiting long enough." 

The relaxed smile on (Y/N) face stayed there even as they encountered new photographers, and Harry's hand in hers shifted to once again lay on her back. She couldn't wait for tonight. 

—————

BODYGUARD PROMOTED TO BOYFRIEND? WATCH AS (Y/N) AND HER HUNKY EMPLOYEE FIND SOME PRIVACY AT PARIS FASHION WEEK

Though fans and social media alike have speculated about the nature of (Y/N) and her bodyguard—Harry Styles—relationship since the day they were first pictured together, this past weekend was the first to offer any hard evidence that there was anything more than professional going on between them. 

After touching down in Paris the night before for an exclusive invite to a few of the major shows of Paris Fashion Week—including the Jean Paul Gaultier spring runway—(Y/N) had remained low-key despite her usual Parisian club becoming the place to be before the festivities of the week began. She was first seen entering the JPG show, complete with an archival look specifically from the brand, as styled by Dominic Pedretto.

While walking the carpet, she seemed to have a moment, causing Styles to step forward and affectionately place a hand on her back, and whisper something. The moment was caught on camera—which you can see in the slideshow below!—along with the way neither of them could keep their eyes off one another. It wasn't uncommon for the pair of them to be so close while waking a carpet or even just handling a crowd of photographers—as seen at the 132 Gala as well as last Summer in Paris. 

But, it was the moment after the show that has fans running wild all over social media! 

As pictured below, (Y/N) and her bodyguard could be seen taking a private moment together outside of the Oratory of the Louvre. As opposed to all of the careful touches they've shared in front of the media, they can now be seen with his arms around her waist and (Y/N) clinging to him. Our insider wasn't close enough to catch any of the conversation, but said clear smiles and laughter was seen being shared in their alcove. It was the picture of love, the insider described it. Definitely different to what has been portrayed to the media about their relationship. 

If that wasn't enough, we also have exclusive access to the kiss heard 'round the world. In the final shot before the pair parted ways for their trek back to the media, they can be seen locked in a kiss. The steamy exchange lasted only a few moments, but our source can exclusively tells us that (Y/N) seemed eager for more, immediately pulling her "bodyguard" along so they could head home and get more of each other. 

While there's been no confirmation of any kind of relationship between the two, it must be only a matter of time until we hear wedding bells!

—————

ahhhh!!! thank u sm for reading, so sorry for any mistakes I missed, and please if there's any kind of requests or ideas anyone has please lmk!!!

#anon #writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry fluff #bodyguard harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #bodyguard harry styles #harry styles x reader #harrys house #love on tour #as it was #satellite

[starry-bi-sky]

For the Danyal Al Ghul AU: How would Danyal react to other canon events like when Sam wishes she never met Danny, Tucker wishes for powers, the christmas episode, or other DP canon events?

(Also, I assume Danyal's cover is blown by the reality Gaunlet event.)

Ohooho I love this question. So im only gonna respond to the episodes you mentioned, since it's been a while since i actually watched the show and I don't remember all the episodes. And also since I don't remember them fully, I'm gonna get details wrong. I am fine with that, it still gets the gist down lol. I've got the tvtropes recap page pulled up, so i'll be using that to try and hit the major points it mentions.

So, Memory Blank! Man I've thought about that one, and its the one I'm frankly most excited to answer because it gets to show just how much of a positive impact being friends with Sam and Tucker had on Danyal. So where to start? Their fight goes differently than in canon, but I'm going to start from after Sam makes her wish.

Firstly; she and Tucker are friends, but the two of them are not friends with Danny. He's on his own. In this au, the three of them became friends when they were 11 and Danny's been in Amity Park for about a year.

They met in the beginning with Sam trying to befriend him at first because she realized that they shared similar ideals on environmentalism, but he rebuffed her pretty harshly due to a combination of grief over leaving his home, trying to process the fact that he can never return and will never see his brother again or meet his father, and just plain League arrogance lmao. He really hated being in Amity Park just in general because it wasn't his home and it was the city too.

So he was really rather unapproachable in the beginning. People kept a pretty wide berth of him due to Fenton association and his own vibes.

But Danny's still a kid, and they want socialization with their peers. At 11 he didn't have any friends, and was frankly quite lonely. He decided to approach Sam and Tucker after deeming them "acceptable allies", although Sam wasn't really interested at first up until he did the equivalent of apologizing. Tucker warmed up first afterwards, but Sam really wasn't too far behind.

So thats how they became friends, post-wish though? Lets say that Sam didn't accept the apology and rebuffed Danny, and kinda intimidated Tucker into doing the thing. Danyal closed down, backed off, and then never approached them again because he decided right then and there he wasn't going to chase it. Wasn't worth his effort or time.

Then he just. never approached another person after that because he didn't want to get rebuffed again (he wouldn't admit that it hurt a bit), and he could already tell his efforts wouldn't work. He turned his attention to other stuff. In this timeline it wasn't too difficult to find him at events dedicated to combatting climate change, deforestation, light pollution, animal cruelty, etc. the LOA is an environmentalist group, after all. They just also happen to be eco-fascist assassins-for-hire.

In summary, Sam and Tucker helped Danyal realize the flaws in some of the League's beliefs (the fascism) to the point where he could deconstruct it on his own. Being friends with them made him realize that, frankly, genocide was not the answer to environmental equilibrium, and that the people outside of the League had lives worth living. They also helped quell his arrogance, and just in general influenced him to become kinder even if it doesn't look like that all the time to other people. Sam and Tucker make him laugh, and smile, and just happy.

OG Danyal: wears pretty casual teen clothes. More punky-aesthetic. Has multiple ear piercings. These were self-done. Will have a lip piercing by the time he reunites with Damian, mark my words. Can and will wear muscle tees. Makes puns, jokes, is generally sassy with his friends. Can, will, and has climbed shit he shouldn't be because he enjoys the challenge of scaling a building. It's also very funny seeing Tucker and Sam reenact the "Gregory! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!" meme. Still has a questionable moral compass, but like, he's not an eco-fascist.

This Timeline Danyal: dresses much more sophisticated; dark academia vibe. Closed off, cold. Is 2x more likely to kill someone than OG Danyal, who was frankly, pr kosher with murder already but only if he deemed it extremely necessary. Still an eco-fascist.

Danyal without Sam and Tucker? Still believes in the teachings of the League because he has not been really challenged on them. In fact, he has doubled down on it, actually. Living in the city, growing up estranged and ostracized by his peers, has only strengthened his resolve that all of humanity minus the league (and the Fentons) deserves to be wiped out. He is disgusted by the people around him and desperately wants to go home, even more than the last timeline. The only reason he hasn't is for Damian's sake, but he's been checking in with mother whenever she visits and asking to find a way to come home. She's been steadily wearing down on it; her child is miserable here.

This version of Danyal should not have powers, and is, essentially on the fast track of rejoining the league -- doubly so when he hears Damian is living with father. Clearly it's safe enough for him to be with father, if mother allowed it, and father has become safe enough for Damian to live there. Good. With the threat of two heirs being in the League gone, Danny can return with Mother's permission. And. he probably takes Jazz (and the Fenton parents) with him. Forcibly if he has to.

So Sam has her work cut out for her here, a lot more than in canon, because even when she does tell him that they used to be friends in another timeline, and he believes it, he is not going to give a shit. Clearly they were not as good of friends as she thought they were, if she had wished they never met in the first place. Good riddance, then. This Danny is cold, incredibly hurt, and very closed off.

He is a cave wall in comparison to the Danny Sam knew, and talking to him feels like walking into one. Because he is looking at her with just utter disgust and disdain, keeping a distance like he is revolted by her presence and allergic to her and everyone else's touch.

Which really, really fucking hurts when she knows that in their last timeline, he would actively seek out her and Tucker's company and affection. Sam could read her best friend like an open book, and now its like she's trying to read one in another language she barely speaks. This boy used to smile at her, he used to laugh at Tucker's jokes, and he was so passionate about the things he enjoyed. Now he looks at her like he wants nothing more than for her to drop dead on the spot.

It hurts even more knowing that her last words to her Danny were the words, 'some days i wish we never met'; the way he looked at her afterwards haunts her. For a split second, he looked completely crushed and heartbroken, before his entire body language and expression shut off and he totally closed down on her.

Because by this point in his friendship with her and Tucker, he's told them, he has told them, in a very intimate moment of vulnerability, that they are one of the best things that's happened in his life -- right there alongside the day he first met his baby brother. They are very important to him, and he has finally felt comfortable enough with telling them. There's not a day that goes by that he isn't grateful for their friendship.

So to hear Sam say that some days she wishes they never met? well. That breaks his heart. Just- just a little bit. Sam regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth, and she immediately tries to apologize, but Danny immediately spits back; "Well. I hope you get your wish." and then stalks off.

I'm warring with myself here trying to decide whether or not this new timeline Danyal is at a "point of no return", where nothing Sam says is going to make him attempt to reignite that friendship. Clearly that will end badly anyways, if this is the result of that friendship. He's cut all ties from these people; he feels no prerogative to fix things she broke.

Like, the version of Danyal I'm thinking of here has no close bonds with anyone in the city sans Jazz -- and she? has her own life outside of Danny. She is not his keeper, not his caretaker, and certainly not his therapist. (which i have beef about too, considering how she gets boiled down to 'therapist with no life of her own' but im not going into that.) She has some influence on him, but frankly not enough to really make him challenge his beliefs. Danny cares about her that, if he returns to the league, she is coming with him. Or at the very least, will be spared from the League's goals.

Mmmm. I can't make it a total point of no return though. Sam's very stubborn, and she knows Danny. And while this Danny is still very different, he is still Danny. She'll try and befriend him insistently in a way that might annoy him, but at least not push him away further.

(Tucker, meanwhile, is just soo confused about Sam's very random, very abrupt switch up. Cuz girl he thought you hated this guy? Why are you suddenly trying to get all buddy-buddy with the terrifying Fenton kid. Have you been possessed? Is this some kind of crisis?)

(Sam drags Tucker into befriending Danny because he is the only person she knows that can get him to belly laugh. Tucker is mildly terrified but going along with it.)

Anyways this does end with Sam befriending Danny, or at least getting him to like her long enough that he'll pick up a ghost weapon and face off against Desiree. There's no way in hell he's walking into that portal, that last timeline might have been a 1/billionth chance of it happening and he's not dying for the chance to get powers. And frankly with his training -- which he's probably kept up with even more than the old timeline because he had no one to spend his time with -- he doesn't really need them to be good at fighting them. Just show him how to ghost proof a weapon and he'll handle the rest from there.

But Sam does end up undoing the wish and getting back to her own original timeline in the end. It's the morning after her fight, and the literal first thing she does that morning is get her shoes on and fucking sprriiint to the fenton house. Bursts into tears when she sees Danny and apologizes over and over again. She swears she didn't mean any of it, and to please believe her, and Desiree's still loose and they need to stop her, and she's had the worst time.

She does tell him about the other timeline she just went through, and she hopes that, if it still exists, that that Danyal manages to find friends in the Sam and Tucker there after this. And if not them, then anyone.

Danny's still pretty hurt by what she said, it cut really deep, but he forgives her.

-----

Tucker getting his powers! Frankly things gooo... relatively the same as canon, I think? Actually, no. Danny probably figures out the whole Genie "i wish you would go back into your lamp" thing faster than canon danny since he's not a C student lmao. TV.Tropes doesn't give me too much specifics for a recap on the plot, so we're gonna wing it. For the plot I'm going to say that Tucker gets his powers before Danny figures out the "i wish" thing, which happens relatively quickly.

Danny tries to be... rather supportive of his friend getting powers? Especially since, in comparison to Danny, it was rather painless. However, he's also very suspicious. He doesn't trust the source of Tucker's powers, and warns him to be careful and to let Danny know if he feels off in anyway.

Tucker does end up helping Danny a few times, but the quick progression of his powers and Tucker's willingness to use them more often than not worries him. He reminds him a handful of times that Tucker shouldn't rely on his powers to help -- not even Danny does that. He prefers to use his weapons and martial arts to fight instead. Tucker doesn't listen.

And they end up fighting anyways. Things get resolved, everything turns out okay!

------

Christmas episode straight up just. doesn't happen. Danyal doesn't care enough about the Fenton arguing or about Christmas to be upset about said arguing. He thinks its really childish, but he's not a grinch about all of it.

--------

Okay it wasn't explicitly mentioned but i have thought about TUE. And I'm trying to think how that would go because it's the result of Danny getting his hands on the math answers and cheating. Which Danyal would not do.

And someone mentioned in the comments on my ao3 under the oneshots there that TUE might just straight up not happen. Which makes sense, Danyal is so different from canon that things don't have to always happen like it did in canon. So that's something I need to chew about, cuz if it does happen, then I'm going to figure out a different way for it to.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danyal al ghul au #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul #usually i'd have a plethora of tags to add. but i dont really have much running commentary in mind lmao #i technically could just blow them all up in nasty burger just without the added 'cheating' thing. however. thats boring. #so i'll do my own thing #things in threes au

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 6 (smexy times ahead)

To Kara’s surprise, steak dinner happens at Lena’s apartment. From how little Lena has shared so far, she’d expected to wait weeks or months to see where Lena lives. It’s not until she arrives that Kara realizes exactly why Lena is so willing to let Kara into her inner sanctum. 

It’s completely void of personality.

Well, Kara allows, it could be that a lack of personality could be a personality in itself. And there are photos, but they all feature Lena and her crew. All smiling– all recent. Nothing to suggest Lena had a life before National City. She spies a punching bag in one corner, but the rest of the furniture is worn and basic, suggesting the place had come pre-furnished by a landlord who didn’t particularly care about aesthetics. It’s spartan and plain– forthright in a way that actually fits Lena. Still…

Kara wishes the space could have given her a better look at Lena’s inner life. 

The kitchen, at least, is functional enough. Enough that Lena is able to season and sear her steaks to perfection, with some fresh asparagus sauteeing on a side burner. And she does it all with a smile, chatting with Kara as well as she had on the way home. A capable multitasker, Kara notes, though it’s less than surprising. 

Lena seems incapable of being incapable at anything. 

The meal is served up on non-descript plates– at least they’re ceramic and not paper, and Lena does lower the overhead lights to set the mood. Kara moans when the first bite of steak hits her tongue. Moist and savory and perfectly seasoned, it puts anything she herself could have made to shame. The asparagus is also perfectly softened without being mushy, retaining enough of its texture to allow for a bit of a crunch at the center. 

“Are you sure the Army didn’t put you on the chow line? This is delicious!” Kara groans. 

Lena smirks, taking a sip of her wine. “You think ‘chow’ tastes like this?” An arch eyebrow dispels that notion. “Nah. Not so much.”

“Well, wherever it comes from, color me amazed and impressed.”

Kara takes another large–too large– bite, and has to spend several quiet moments chewing her way through it. When she swallows– still too large– she tilts her head. 

“Is there anything you’re not good at?”

Lena’s eyes warm with mirth, but takes a moment to consider.

“Jumping rope.” Lena shrugs. “I hate it. Can’t stand it.”

“But you can do it?”

Lena waves away the answer. 

“Then it doesn’t count!” 

Lena laughs. “Alright, alright… um. Okay. I can’t draw to save my life.”

It’s a surprisingly candid answer. “Really?”

Lena nods. “Any required art classes were passed on charm alone.”

Kara grins. Lena eyes her suspiciously. 

“What?” 

For a moment, they play a game of silent chicken as Kara waits for Lena to say the words, and Lean waits for Kara to confess what she already suspects. Finally, Lena caves.

“You’re an artist, aren’t you.”

Kara laughs, tickled by the suspicion at odds with the twinkle in Lena’s eye. “Maybe…” she draws out, unable to help the taunt. She relents when Lena’s eyebrow climbs dangerously close to her hairline. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I am. Kind of. At least, I was.”

“You were?” 

“Not much opportunity to flex my brush skills on a cop’s schedule,” she deflects, unwilling to dull the mood with the somber reality. If Lena suspects the deeper reason, she gives no indication. 

Instead, she tilts her head. “Well, I’d like to see some of your work, sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lena confirms. “If you’re willing to share, of course. No pressure.” She takes another sip of her wine. “I just know that anything you do would be amazing.”

Lena’s voice is low and throaty, and Kara senses the shift to a mood far more intimate than playful banter. “In that case, you would be right,” Kara confirms, leaning forward across the table. “Play your cards right, and I’ll prove it to you. Again.”

“Uh uh,” Lena returns, leaning to meet Kara midway across the table. She pecks a tantalizing kiss to Kara’s lips. “Tonight is my turn to go first.”

“Oooh,” Kara purrs. “I don’t mind the sound of that.”

She plays a light drumroll on Lena’s ass as she clears the dishes, which only receive a quick rinse before being forgotten in the sink. Lena’s attention turns to Kara, who feels the weight of her focus like a planar shift. The rest of the world ceases to exist, narrowing to the two of them alone.

They haven’t even reached the threshold of Lena’s bedroom before warm lips caress the skin of her neck. Her flesh prickles with goosebumps, a frisson of desire coursing through her. She wants this, and the flutter of nerves in her belly only heightens her anticipation. She’s never wanted anything– or anyone– as much as she wants this, wants Lena. She doesn’t know what Lena has in store for her, and doesn’t quite know how her body will react to her ministrations. If her current arousal is anything to go by, Kara suspects she might not survive what’s to come. And she’s perfectly fine with that.

Lena guides her with gentle hands to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Kara thinks she’ll sit on her lap, like the last time on her couch. But instead, Lena lays her back, leaning over her with a muscled arm holding her up.

“Tell me what you want,” Lena murmurs between slow languid kisses. Kara whimpers into her mouth, making Lena’s lips curl in a smile against hers. “That’s not an answer, love.”

For a moment, Kara struggles to think, but Lena doesn’t relent in her ministrations. It takes long minutes of nearly losing herself in the sensations before she manages to conjure her wish.

“Let’s go slow.” she murmurs.

Lena pauses immediately, but Kara keeps her from pulling away by cupping her cheek. Lena gazes into her eyes, studying her to understand the meaning behind her words. Then, slowly, a low fire sparks deep in her gaze.

“How slow, exactly,” she asks, low and silky.

Kara lifts her chin to kiss her. “As slow as possible.”

Nodding her understanding, Lena runs a velvet touch up under Kara’s shirt; slow enough to count each and every rib. “And where would you like to start?”

Breath hitching when Lena hits a sensitive spot just under Kara’s breast, Kara tries to blink her way to at least partial coherency. 

“Do you have a vibrator?” she gasps.

Lena nods, nuzzling Kara’s ear. “Excellent idea, darling.”

Finally, Kara releases herself to the experience. Lena takes her time with her, going deliciously slow as she raises Kara’s shirt by inches, kissing every exposed bit skin on her way. Not just kissing. Licking, nibbling, suckling. She lingers on Kara’s breasts, brushing her thumbs over pebbled nipples as she diverts back to Kara’s lips. 

Slowly but surely, Kara’s skin heats with pleasure. But when her breath starts to quicken, Lena draws herself away. Without Lena’s body heat against her, chill air washes over her, making her groan. She squeezes her eyes shut in frustration.

“Now, now,” Lena tsks. “I want you to watch.”

Kara’s eyes fly open, and she props herself up on her elbows to watch as Lena unbuttons the fly of her jeans. Her fingers dip beneath her waistband, and Kara’s breath goes ragged in her chest. But just as smoothly as they slide under, they slip back out, and Lena shimmies out of her pants. 

She kicks them aside as soon as she steps out of them, and Kara is left to ogle smooth, tones legs. Lena may not match Kara for height, but her legs are long and packed with muscle. Kara’s mouth goes dry.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Kara mutters. 

Lena saunters closer, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Well, hopefully he won’t be the one fucking tonight.” 

She tilts Kara’s chin up. Kara lets her mouth gape, just enough for Lena to see the invitation and take it. Her tongue slides over Kara’s, then curls languorously up and along the roof of Kara’s mouth. She sucks against Kara’s upper lip as she withdraws, and Kara lists after her when she sits back on Kara’s knees. 

“Do you want to see more?” Lena croons.

Kara swallows thickly. “All of it,” she croaks. “I want to see all of you.”

Lena smiles, pleased with her response. She grips the hem of her shirt with her fingertips, and slowly begins to pull it up, up, up over her abdomen, her breasts, and finally her head. Dark hair flows through the neck opening, swishing around Lena’s bare shoulders. When Lena’s fingers move to her bra, all higher function vacates Kara’s brain. The little strip tease that follows sends bolts of arousal down through Kara’s core, pooling between her legs. Soon, only Lena’s underwear remains.

When Lena twists to deposit her bra on the pile with the rest of her abandoned clothing, Kara catches sight of a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs, but it flashes out of sight and out of mind when Lena turns her attention back to her. 

Thankfully, Lena makes quicker work of Kara’s own pants. Soon Kara is completely and enthusiastically nude, and Kara notes that Lena makes no mention of how wet she is. Kara’s glad for it– she suspects it will be her default state whenever Lena’s eyes take on this sort of glint. 

She jumps when the first rumble of the vibrator tickles the inside of her thigh. She inhales through her teeth, and is answered by a palm pressing flatly against her labia and clit. 

“Easy,” Lena coaxes. Her lips still smirk though. “Don’t want you getting worked up too soon, do we?”

The even pressure on her groin eases some of the edge that had been building within her, and she manages to take a breath that relieves any more. Even so, she knows that once Lena gets to work with the vibrator, she would be hard pressed to draw this out as long as she hoped she could.

Lena isn’t one to disappoint. She plays Kara like a fiddle, taking her tantalizingly close to edge after edge, before drawing her back down again and again. Her technique is expert– the vibrator seems to trace patterns everywhere but her clit. Her labia, her bikini line, even the bottom edge of her belly. Sometimes, when Kara lingers too long on one edge, a warm tongue soothes her clit, dulling the hungry ache.

“Hanging in there?” Lena checks in once Kara stops squirming. 

“Barely,” Kara gasps, panting. 

“You are so hot,” Lena purrs. “You’re doing so good.”

That alone almost almost pitches Kara over the precipice. She curls her fingers into the sheets, gritting her teeth. “Soon,” she warns.

“Just say the word, baby. I’ll get you there.”

Lena starts again, taking her time tracing more patterns around her ultimate destination. Slowly, inevitably, the pressure building to unprecedented heights. Kara’s never been attended to like this, never been read so plainly, so intuitively. It’s as though Lena has already memorized her body, chasing every sensitive part of her with expert precision until even the ebb aches as deliciously as the flow. 

When Lena brings the vibrator closer to her clit than she has so far, Kara cracks. 

“Now!” she gasps.

The vibrator has hardly touched her clit when Kara hurtles over. She can’t help the cry that escapes her, loud and long and desperate. She’s never made a sound like this before. She doesn’t realize Lena hasn’t moved the vibrator before she’s tipping into a second orgasm, then a third. The last lingers for long, long seconds and only then do the vibrations cease.

The whine that Kara issues is inhuman to her own ears, but Lena only chuckles as she climbs up to check on her.

“Still conscious?” 

Kara grunts plaintively, as her fingers slowly release the sheets. 

“That was– whoah!”

Lena’s exclamation is swallowed by Kara’s mouth on hers, lunging for a kiss before full conscious thought has even returned. Lena melts into it, letting the kiss deepen and last until Kara is the one to break it. 

“Amazing,” she finishes Lena’s sentence for her. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Lena’s cheeks flush under the praise. “And you,” she returns, “are a glutton for punishment. You lasted longer than I thought you would. Much longer.” She licks Kara’s upper lip so sensually, it almost makes Kara ask for another round. Almost. “Good girl.”

Kara sighs. “I don’t know if I can return the favor,” she confesses. It kills her to say it, but she barely feel her toes. Lena laughs. “I’m sorry…”

“Please,” Lena dismisses, still laughing. “That’s possibly the greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Kara blinks. “Ever?”

“Ever,” Lena confirms. She smiles, her eyes warm and full of comfort as she gazes down at Kara. “How about an early night then?”

A sigh escapes Kara. “That sounds…”

“Amazing?” Lena teases.

“Yeah,” Kara confirms contentedly. “Amazing.”

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #smexy times #Kara gets her turn #I hope you all like it #pls give me your thoughts #wanna make sure its worth continuing

[aestheticaltcow]

The Playdate

Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Single parent meet cute? I had this idea a couple of days ago, and it came out almost as good as I wanted.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Richie asked as he answered Tiffany’s call that afternoon. She was frazzled as she explained being held up at work, Frank was out of town, and Eva needed to get picked up from a sleepover… or something like that. She’d been talking so quickly that Richie could barely keep up, “Can you please pick her up and watch her for a couple of hours? I’d really appreciate it, Richie.” 

Richie agreed and quickly pulled on his jacket before walking out of his apartment and to his car. Tiffany had sent him an address on the other side of the city right before the afternoon rush hour; what should have been a 25-minute drive turned into 45. Richie was annoyed when he approached a light yellow house with large flower bushes encapsulating a small front yard decorated with lawn gnomes and large, colorful pinwheels. He rolled his eyes at the sheer asshole-ary of the entire aesthetic. 

He walked up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. He waited a few moments before you answered with a quizzical look. Richie felt himself square his shoulders as he took in your appearance; you weren’t dressed up by any means. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun. Glasses perched on your nose. Funky patterned pants that were practically painted across your thick thighs. A slightly cropped sweatshirt that showed a sliver of skin. Richie noticed the intricate mandala tattoo on your left hand and fingers. He didn’t want to come off as creepy, but it was hard not to check you out.

“Hi, can I help you?” you asked as you leaned against the doorframe. Richie swallowed softly before answering, “Yeah- I’m Richie, Eva’s Dad… here to pick her up. Tiff got held up at work.” 

You nodded, “Come on in, the girls are in the backyard.” 

Richie followed as you walked down a short hallway decorated with family pictures and memorabilia. You opened the backdoor and allowed Richie to walk through before you. He smiled when he saw Eva and your daughter playing on a swing set, happily singing along to the music playing from a portable speaker on the back deck. “Hi baby,” he called, getting Eva’s attention. She waved before looking at your daughter. The two girls nodded before flinging themselves off the swing set. They erupted into laughter when they landed in a patch of grass. You shook your head, “Those girls are gonna be the death of me.” 

Richie chuckled in agreement as you checked your phone for the time. “Hi, Dad!” Eva yelled as she came running up to you and Richie. You smiled as he bent down to scoop up the girl. You didn’t know much about him, just that he and Tiffany divorced a couple of years ago and he worked in the restaurant industry. “Momma, can Eva come play again this week?” your daughter, Violet, questioned as she joined the three of you on the deck. You checked your phone for the date, “I need to talk to your Dad about it, but I think we can figure something out.” 

You watched Richie put Eva back on the ground. “Get your stuff, Eva. We gotta go.” Eva frowned at Richie’s request, but when Violet grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house, the two were back to laughing. You smiled and pushed your glasses up, “Did they drive you crazy?” Richie asked as the two of you walked back into the house. You shook your head, “She’s a good kid, and Violet loves her.”

Richie nodded as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his track pants. “Is she with you or her Mom this weekend?” you asked out of curiosity. Richie thought momentarily before answering that she was with him that weekend but would be back with Tiff on Wednesday. You nodded, “I think Violet’s Dad is coming into town next week, but I can figure something out with Tiffany.”

“You could also just figure it out with me.” Richie rebutted flirtatiously. It made you blush. Richie bit the inside of his cheek as you ducked your head to the side to prevent him from seeing it. “We could just do that.” you laughed as you pulled your phone from your pocket, “What’s your number Richie?” 

The two of you exchanged numbers as the girls bounced down the stairs, laughing about something. “Ready?” Richie questioned, looking down at Eva with a goofy grin. She nodded and looked at you. “Thank you, Y/N!”

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re always welcome at the house, okay?” you responded as the four of you walked back to the front porch. Eva nodded and hugged Violet tightly before she and Richie walked down the walkway to his car. You stood in the doorway and watched him help Eva into the car before walking around to the driver’s side. He waved in your direction with a grin before getting into the car. You bit your lip and quickly scurried back inside. Would it make you a horrible person to ask your daughter’s best friend’s Dad out on a date sometime?

#richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich fan fic #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich one shot #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich x fem!reader #the bear #the bear fan fiction #the bear fan fic #the bear one shot #the bear imagine #richie jerimovich fan fiction

[hobiebrownbrowser]

Opposites attract

Hobie Brown x Hippie/Fairy FEM!Reader

Summary:Y/N is like a Fairy cottagecore kind of person, pretty aesthetics all around their Fairy filled fantasies. Hobie digs it bc he thinks it's cool 💙

You were simply just reading a book in your spare time, Not a lot of things to do since nothing was happening in the city. It was calm today, no cop cars zooming past your window at 3AM. Probably because spiderman took care of them all already.

You peered at your cracked open window, A flash of silver catching your eyes. It was sudden, but faint. Curiosity getting the best of you, you lookef outside to be met with an unknown object on the floor. It looked like a pin, having purple aspects on it.

"What is kanka?" You look around clearly confused, not sure where the shiny object came from.

"Can I have that back mate?" You were startled by a sudden voice, almost dropping the pin from your hands. You looked around for the voice, eventually looking up to be met with spiderman himself. Without thinking you throw it to him, impressed by the fact he caught it with one hand.

"I neva' seen a lush like you around' ere." You told him you recently moved here, Having a conversation with a stranger you just met a few seconds ago. You learned his spiderman logo was 'spiderpunk'. A fitting name for someone who looks like he'd smash the guitar on his back against someone's face.

You two ended up talking the night away, The man complimenting how beautiful you were just before having to 'splits the jit' You couldn't help but laugh, A flustered look on your face as you bid farewell to spiderpunk, watching as he swings from building to building. A smile on your face as you go back and enjoy the rest of your night.

//\\

It had been a while since your interaction with the spider dude. Looking through the library for any kind of books you can get your hands on. The one that caught your eye was named "The Metaphor Of Capitalism" your mind curious on what the book meant.

You ended up buying it, hands filled with bookbags as you make your way back home, Stopping by a small food stand tucked away in a corner. You greeted the workers with a smile, ordering two tacos beside a very tall figure. His cheeks were sculpted, His eyes half lazy as he does the same.

A lousy smirk on his face as he talks with the employees, he seemed to be known here, Having a friendly conversation with everyone who was near. Your eyes catching on the purple pin on his vest. It was the same one spiderpunk had lost temporarily, your mind clicking as you realized who the man beside you was.

You squinted your eyes, Taking your tacos and exiting the small alleyway. You didn't want to just shout out his identity, simply walking away, heading back to your apartment complex.

You arrived shortly after, placing your newly bought books down as you get ready for bed. A knock on your window stopping you. You walk towards the window, immediately looking up to be face to face with spiderpunk once again.

"Been awhile innit?" You nodded, a conversation soon striking between the two of you. He talked about all that happened today, Sitting on your balcony as he rambles on. It was fascinating to hear it from him since he saw it with his own two eyes. Possibly being the center of attention.

You listened throughout the whole night, Exhaustion hinting at the both of you as you bid him farewell once more. A shiny object eluting light. You picked it up, Grasping the pin in your hand as a small feeling told you he'd left it on purpose. A yawn escaping you as you call it a night once more.

//\\

Ever since the both of you met around four months ago, you'd see each other everywhere without much effort, Sheepishly remembering all the pins on his vest. You felt like a detective, trying to crack the man's secret identity. You didn't wanna invade his privacy however, so you stopped.

Talking to spiderpunk on your balcony almost everyday felt unreal, it became like a common routine. Your shyness washing away the more you got to know him, often placing desserts outside for him if he ever swung by for a quick hello.

You wouldn't say you "weren't" curious on what he looked like, but the anticipation was killing you. You knew it was wrong wanting to see his face but you couldn't help it, Trying to push down the thoughts wasn't working anymore. You just had to clarify if it was him you saw at the taco stand a few months back.

Still remembering the man's gorgeous face was haunting you, his brown eyes gleaming as he ordered his food. You wanted to get to the bottom of this, Pulling yourself together and waiting for him to swing by, sadly he didn't stop by today, A pout hinting at your lips as you lay in bed, letting sleep take over you.

//\\

A knock awoke you, Your eyes peering out the window. It was still the darkest of nights outside, Your body jumping up from your bed as another knock occured. A groan leaving the collapsed man that rested on your balcony. You quickly pulled him in, his suit torn up as you hurry to get a first aid kit.

You placed him on your soft comforter, worry on your face as you frantically pace around before checking his heartbeat. A sigh of relief washing over you as he was only out cold. You decided to let him have your bed, Grabbing a few blankets and huddling up into a chair.

A few minutes passing but no signs of sleep looming over you. You were too worried, constantly checking up on the masked friend as he shifts in his sleep. You decided it was best to stay awake, grabbing a book and reading the hours away. A groan making your ears perk as you cover your face with your book.

He looked around clearly lost, until he spotted you. Wincing as the bruises on his back fought with him. You told him to keep still, not wanting him to open up the stitches. He obliged, cracking jokes at a time like this.

"Got myself in a bit of a pickle, yeah?" A smile creeping up on your face as he gives you an explanation on all he remembered. You nodded before handing him a cold beverage from your mini fridge, An act of kindness falling from him as he whispered a quiet 'thank you'.

You felt your heart flutter as he suddenly pulled off his mask. Your body struck standing still as you examine his face before looking away apologetically. He only chuckled, knowing he was handsome himself. You helped him up, setting a pillow below him. Your faces being inches apart.

Your eyes peering into his as the comforting silence developed through the both of you. Your eyes widening as your lips found a way to one another, The kiss becoming passionate as you close your eyes. You'd pulled away for air, your eyes blinking as you contemplated what just happened.

"I've be waitin' to do that." You look him in the eyes before feeling embarrassment wash over you, A smirk plastered on Hobie's face as you continue to exchange small glances to one another. The night filled with laughter as you lay there with your boyfriend.

"Who knew you'd fall for spiderman like he fell for you?"

Commission completed! (Click here to see the commission)

#hobart brown #hobie brown #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobart brown x reader #hobbie brown #hobie #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown x you #hobiebrown #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x y/n #hobie spiderverse #spiderverse fluff #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #spider people #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown atsv #hobie brown drabble

[marlynnofmany]

Walkway Aesthetics

The door opened from the spaceport to the city proper, and I couldn’t help saying, “Oh wow.” I’d expected a regular walkway, maybe with a moving sidewalk or hovercarts, probably with ads and decorations. The last few big cities we’d visited had all been pretty bland in terms of entrance-way style.

This one was an aquarium. The long tunnel curved away under a domed ceiling with vast sea creatures undulating by overhead, and others darting about in flashes of scales. Subtle blue-and-purple lighting lit up both the benches alongside and the water above. Specks of phosphorescence danced everywhere like fairies under a starry sky. The effect was breathtaking.

I ventured out into the purple-blue wonderland. “Wow, this is amazing.”

Three of my coworkers followed, and were less impressed.

“Eh, it’s not very original,” Kavlae said with a flip of her frills. Under the lighting, her sky-blue skin was a shifting purple. “Water scenes are pretty tiresome, honestly.”

“You said it,” agreed Mur down from floor level. He tentacle-walked along like the opinionated squid alien he was, blending with the bluish shadows. “Once you’ve seen things swimming past, you’ve seen them all.”

I asked, “Are you serious? This is beautiful.”

Paint huddled close beside me, her orange scales turned an indistinct brown. “I think it’s scary.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

She clasped her hands, shaking her head. “That’s a lot of water, and a lot of creatures. What if the barrier broke?”

“Well yeah, that would be bad,” I admitted. “But it’s not going to.”

Paint walked faster. “Still scary. Look at that one! It’s so big!”

The alien whale or whatever that coasted past had bioluminescent swirls along its underside, and a cloud of the glowing water-pixies flitting along after it. Beautiful, and awe-inspiringly close.

“Ah, that’s so cool!” I said, turning in place as I walked to keep it in sight.

Paint just squeaked and scampered ahead, followed by Kavlae and Mur.

“C’mon, we’re leaving you behind,” Mur told me.

“I’m coming,” I said. There were glowing eels or something up ahead, and I jogged to get a look. The other three continued turning up their various noses the whole way down.

When we finally reached the other end, a family of humans were just entering the tunnel. Their awestruck expressions were vindicating.

“Ohhh, wow!”

“This is lovely!”

“Look at the size of that one! I can almost touch it!”

“Don’t smudge the glass, honey.”

“But it’s so cool!”

I joined my coworkers at the exit with no small amount of smugness. “See? They get it.”

Mur waved a tentacle. “That just shows that your entire species has poor taste in decor.”

Paint shuddered, stepping into the brighter light of the station. “I would feel much safer with solid ground on all sides instead of all that water.”

I laughed. “See, that would make me worry that it was about to fall down on me.”

“A proper burrow would never!”

Kavlae walked past us both. “You planet-born folk have the silliest ideas about these things. I’ll stick with my windows into space.”

The rest of us immediately jumped in to agree that the risk of a hatch blowout was scarier than any cave-in. But the view of stars and galaxies could be pretty dang beautiful, so it was worth it.

~~~

Inspired by this art by @ellohcee.

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#short one today so I skipped the readmore #just a bit of interaction about something beautiful #to human eyes at least #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #my writing #The Token Human

[sunnebeam]

city of lights.

A 'CITY OF LIGHTS' DRABBLE.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (please use protection irl), mentions of mafia shit that are just buildups for future drabbles, cheating (kinda, it's complicated)

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: just a little (smutty) test drabble as i establish this blog! this was based on a scene from the film gangster squad

— prev: (none) | next: backstreet buildings.

You giggle in between sweet, lingering kisses on Jungkook's neck.

"Hey," he says from below you, his hands gently gliding up and down your bare back. "Come up here a second."

You giggle again, shaking your head as your lips reach his collarbone now.

"Doll," he tries again in amusement, "I said, come up here."

You humor him, taking your lips of his skin.

"Well," he starts with an over-the-top 'thinking' expression. "I was wondering if—"

He cuts himself off by kissing you on the lips.

You laugh into the kiss, endeared.

"You're so silly," you say as you break away.

"But I'm serious. I was wondering if—"

He kisses you again.

You smile, deepening the kiss, all too aware of the fact that you two are still naked from last night's escapades and one small movement could easily slip his hard member back inside your wet heat.

Jungkook doesn't ignore this fact and promptly grabs your hips, positions you easily, and slips inside you.

"Mmmm," you moan at the welcome intrusion. When he bounces you up and down, gentle but deep, you murmur, "where have you been all my life," you sigh, continuing, "Jungkook, the bible salesman?"

"Drinking," he grunts a reply.

"Oh," you exclaim as he hits a particularly deep spot inside you. "Well, that's a noble profession."

"Yeah?" Jungkook groans when you swivel your hips in perfect, confident motions before going back to bouncing up and down on his dick.

He knows that you know he's not actually a bible salesman.

In fact, you have an inkling your little tryst right now has less to do with you and has more to do with someone else.

That someone else being your boyfriend.

Technically, he's not really your boyfriend because, well, he never asked to be. He just, one day, decided that you're his woman, his girl, his possession.

You didn't – and still don't – have room to object. That's just how it is with Kim Taehyung. The infamous mob boss. The king of the city.

"Close, doll?"

But while you may be Kim Taehyung's girl, it's not his dick you're warming at this moment.

"So close," you whisper in response, refusing to let your mind wander off from the gorgeous man below you.

Meeting Jeon Jungkook last night was a surprise on your part and an orchestration on his.

He sweet-talked his way to you just as you conveniently left your boyfriend's table for a short breather. The lighting in the restaurant was aesthetically dimmed but you could see right through his bible salesman act.

Still, you ended the night in his bed.

You don't mind that he and his ragtag crew of six are using you. You don't mind being a pawn in their game.

You don't mind that he's fucking you to get to your boyfriend. The same way he doesn't mind that you're using him in a misguided act of rebellion.

"Shit," Jungkook groans, his eyes zeroed on the shiny mess between your legs and the way your puffy pussy lips are swallowing him whole.

You pull him up to a sitting position, never ceasing the bouncing of your hips. You wrap your arms around him as he angles his legs comfortably with the new position and starts to meet your hips halfway.

"Fuck," you moan in Jungkook's embrace, your eyes feasting on the view of the city from the windows behind him.

The city is beautiful in the wee hours of the morning but it's much more of a marvel at night. And as Jungkook spills inside you and you cum on his cock, you can't help but think of what would happen the next time you see the pretty city lights.

"He's gonna kill us, you know," you say breathlessly, matter-of-factly, just as the both of you are coming down from your highs.

He plays with your hair, cock softening inside you but he makes no move to slip out.

"Who?" he murmurs, feigning ignorance.

You stare at him pointedly.

"V."

His hands move from your hair to your lips.

"Voldemort?"

You huff.

"Van Helsing?"

"Jungkook."

"That doesn't start with a V—"

You clench around him and he shuts up.

"Jungkook," you say. "I know this is about V." You gesture to the two of you. "I know this is about Taehyung."

"You're too sharp for your own good," he sighs. "What are you doing with that knucklehead, anyway? He doesn't seem like your type."

You look him in the eye. That exact question, the exact same answer.

"I'm his type. That's all that matters to him."

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #bts fic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #cat.writes

[fleshmonk]

25. Green Arrow

I envisioned a Green Arrow who returns to Star City after some sort of near death/actual death experience a super broke Oliver Queen who is sweaty, gritty, and trying to be the people’s champion while living among them

some of my initial passes of his costume— wanted to stay away from skintight spandex or just permutations of whatever has been done the last couple times liked the idea of looser, less restrictive stuff

He's meant to be very grassroots & a little grittier aesthetically. He's lost his fortune but it doesn't make him angrier or lost, he's finding new ways to still help people and be GREEN ARROW He's helping defend homeless encampments, he's protecting student protests (cough)

for more difficult redesigns I like to think about a story idea that I think would be interesting. Ultimately, I think that if you don't have an interesting take, you can't make a design that would be different enough to matter

If I do a Green Arrow design with different areas of skin showing and moving around what's darker green or light green, I'm not doing much, IMO The Injustice suit is the biggest departure from the usual suits, and that's not even that different

my initial passes (labelled B,C,D) are kind of emblematic of this problem; what kind of story am I visually telling with the design? How is Ollie being challenged? He just looks more casual or his aesthetic is a little changed!

#green arrow #oliver queen #character redesign

[ghostlykeyes]

Hooray! Requests are open! And I rush like the wind into your abode with my idea! How about this idea? Heartsteel!Kayn x Gothic singer!Reader? Reader is the leader of the Gothic rock band the band. In their video, as well as in the songs themselves, there is a lot of gloom, mystery, and also a lot of creepy themes. There are a lot of cemeteries, abandoned buildings, etc. And in the main life Reader likes to visit cemeteries and abandoned buildings (just like me. Because there you can relax from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peace and quiet). In the clips, Reader often acts as a vampire. I would like to know the dynamics in their relationship) Thank you very much!)

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GIF by thedemonlady

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: GOTHIC/SINGER PARTNER HEADCANONS ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ Light to mid-NSFW sprinkled throughout... couldn't help myself (but I KNOW none of you bonk-deserving DEGENERATES mind much 0-0 ) ♡ TW: Slight Sexual Content ♡Keyes write less than one thousand words about Kayn challenge (GONE WRONG) (GONE SEXUAL) (TOTALLY IMPOSSIBLE)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN

Yone's the one who "introduced" you to Kayn, in a way. After seeing one of your music videos, Yone had a feeling Kayn might like your style and sent him a link. What Yone didn't foresee was Kayn becoming instantly fucking obsessed with you. But how was he supposed to resist? You, with your blood red lips and your black lace everything and your haunting, creepy voice...how could Kayn be anything but instantly, painfully in love?

Since your group was much smaller than Heartsteel, it wasn't hard for Kayn to get you to notice him. Sure, maybe the guys teased him for DM'ing you around the clock and turning up at all your shows like a damn groupie until you told him he could take you out sometime...but he's the one who bagged the goth hottie in the end, so who's the real winner?

Kayn keeps a mini silver bat keychain clipped to his bag, a constant reminder of you. Even though your aesthetic is gloomy and, frankly, a little ominous, he still says that your little bat is his good luck charm.

Of course Kayn knows that you scream in your songs—he listens to them religiously, after all—but the first time he heard it in person? Holy shit, he got chills. He knows he shouldn't interrupt your band practice. It was already nice enough of you to let him sit in and listen. But he can't. fucking. help it. "That was the hottest shit I've heard in my life," he tells you after you finish the song. "You're so fucking cool." When the band takes a five-minute break halfway through rehearsal, Kayn tugs you into the nearest bathroom and shows you just how sexy he finds you. Needless to say, you get a bit more screaming practice than you bargained for...

Typically, Kayn prefers the stage to the crowd, but even he can admit that being in the audience at your shows is a really fucking good time. The low, moody lighting, the smoke machines belting fog across the stage, groups of your fans proudly sporting plastic fans and screaming the haunting lyrics to your songs? The atmosphere is fucking impeccable. Plus, in a crowd like this, he can easily get away with going full Rhaast. (He's even started a mosh pit or two...or more. Probably best not to keep track.)

Kayn's favorite part of your vampire-ensemble? A pair of silver tooth caps, shaped like fangs (naturally). When he steals you away from rehearsals or pulls you into a dark backstage corner after a show, Kayn's quickly licking his way into your mouth, tongue dancing along the edge of the metal. "Bite me," he often growls into the edge of your ear as you're kissing down his neck. At first you thought he was kidding, so you'd always give him a light nip and then find your way back to his hungry mouth. But, one time, he smacked your ass as you were working the soft flesh of his neck and you, surprised, really bit down—hard. The way Kayn squirmed into you, panting and whining as a dark bruise started blossoming to the surface of his neck, told you that's definitely what he'd been wanting all along.

Since Kayn's been in the industry for a long time, he's a lot more used to dealing with paparazzi than you are. Whenever you come to him for advice on dealing with the cameras and harassment, he scoffs, instantly annoyed. "Oh, those fucking assholes? If you get in their faces enough, they'll back off." Don't worry, though, he'll do the 'getting in their faces' part for you. If you're out with Kayn and the two of you start getting mobbed, he's not afraid to elbow a reporter or two, or break a few camera lenses. Your management is pissed by the bad press, of course, but it's done wonders for your privacy.

Kayn's favorite pet-name for you is his 'baby bat'. He often calls you that after you do something cute. "Ugh, my baby bat," he says, squishing your cheeks with his hand and planting a kiss on your puckered, smushed-together lips. "So fucking adorable."

Your music taste has earned you the great honor of sharing a Spotify account with Kayn. You're the only person he'd ever even consider allowing to add songs to his playlists, or influence what music the algorithm spits through the radio while he's driving. Just don't steal the account while he's listening (he gets pouty).

Whenever the two of you are hanging out Kayn tries to snag your notebook, flipping through for a glimpse at your newest song concepts or music video ideas. He can't help being curious! You're one of his favorite artists (the fact that you kiss him a lot helps with that), so he's always eager for a sneak peek at your next creative endeavor. Your brain fascinates him, and he can't wait to see what ominous project you put out next.

Anytime you've got a photoshoot, count on Kayn to show up. He loves to see you in full vampire-mode, looking flawless in you Tim-Burton-esque makeup and your platform boots. He's got an eye for edgy photography and iconography, too, so he's a great person to draw inspiration from (even if he tends to annoy the photographers—he's not afraid to tell them if their photos are shitty). Some of his best photo ideas? A boudoir-esque shoot centered around a velvet-lined coffin, a Halloween photo-set with charmingly-poorly-carved jack o' lanterns (carving credits to Heartsteel), a birthday party in a graveyard. Not all of his ideas are so extravagant, of course, and some of his best are the most simple. He's taken a simple shot of his neon eye that you loved so much, you made it the cover art for one of your singles.

Kayn has you saved in his phone under a black heart and a bat emoji.

While the graveyard might be a little too quiet and still for his tastes, Kayn's glad to accompany you on trips to abandoned buildings. He's committed arson in explored his fair share of old warehouses and factories, so he knows what to expect when the two of you break into an abandoned building on a date. He's got a full toolkit—flashlights, a crowbar, lockpicks. Whenever you've got to smash a window or crack a lock to move forward, Kayn eagerly volunteers to clear the way. "You know, since I'm a gentleman," he smiles, sweeter than sugar as he kicks down a door. (You have to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at that.) The two of you spend hours wandering through old buildings on your days off, brushing through years of old, quiet dust. When it's time to leave, Kayn breaks a bottle of spray paint out of his bag. He always tags the building before you clear out, one little symbol for each of you; his Rhaast-grinned Heartsteel icon, and a bat next to it.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel kayn #kayn #heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #kayn/reader #sheida kayn

[suzdin]

DATURA

Summary: Dave and his team have been sent to kill you, but the night pans out differently than you anticipate.

Warnings: ¡SEX POLLEN! Implied noncon due to sex pollen. Fictional drug use. Mentions of weapons/guns/murder (duh). Threeway sex. Gun play, unprotected p in v, creampies, masturbation (f), fingering, spit roasting, oral (m receiving), use of sex toy on reader, anal, spitting, light degradation, choking, spanking, rough sex, squirting, let me know if I missed anything. No use of y/n. Picture is for aesthetics only, as reader is not given a physical description.

This fic is extremely feral and not for everyone, and that’s okay. <3

Word Count: 4,800-ish

Taglist: @kellybelly1978 @ohheypedrito @darkheartgatita @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @sonderosa @missladym1981

And of course I dedicate this to @survivingandenduring and @kateispunk for holding a gun to my head until I wrote this inspiring me to write this 😘

——

Dave prods his index finger at the highlighted portions of the floor plans on the tablet, which he presents to his compatriots.

“There are entrances here, here…and here,” he points out, tapping the third for emphasis. “She’ll be expecting those. Watching them.”

Dave brushes his bottom lip with his thumb, brow creasing in contemplation.

“Ari and Resnik can head off the two main entrances. Joel, you take the side. And I’ll enter…here.” He places a finger where there’s a hastily drawn ‘X’ facing a private alley and courtyard.

“Don’t see a door or window,” the tall, tan man to his left drawls, placing a hand on his hip.

“Right. There’s a secret entrance there which leads to a crawl space left over from the city’s bootlegging days. None of the residents know. And guess where it exits?” Dave asks, eyes darting between the three men.

He places a finger where the bedroom closet would be.

A smirk twists Joel’s mustache. “Shit,” he says, scratching thick, weathered fingers through his scruff. “Gonna hit ‘er from all sides.”

“Exactly,” Dave responds, mirroring the way his companion places his hands on his hips. “We’ll strike at 10 PM sharp. That’s when the main festivities begin. No one will hear a thing.”

——

Dave crouches next to the hatch that leads to the secret door beneath the building, long since defunct due to the city’s proclivity for flooding.

A crackle resonates through his ear piece.

“Miller. Anything?” Dave asks.

“Nothin’,” Joel answers in a low southern lilt, positioned at the bottom of the narrow stairwell on the east side of the building, clicking the safety off on his Glock.

“Ari, Resnik? Station yourselves. Miller, I’m going in.”

“10-4,” Joel returns.

Dave yanks up on the metal hatch and it opens with a jarring creak, drowned out by the roar of the crowds on Bourbon Street and another jazz band playing their rendition of Oh When The Saints Go Marching In for probably the 1,000th time that evening.

He slips in easily and finds a peeling red door, which is shockingly ajar. A stray cat rushes out with a shriek, spitting feline obscenities at him.

“Fuck!” Dave snarls as the dark, furry void streaks past him and into the night.

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel’s voice.

“Nothing. Fucking cat. I’m inside.”

A low, throaty chortle sounds through Dave’s ear piece.

“Eat shit, Miller. Start heading up. I should reach her apartment in five.”

“Unless there’s more cats guarding the place.” This time it’s Ari’s voice. Dave pointedly ignores him.

The crawl space is narrow and damp, crushing in at him from all sides and choked with cobwebs and god knows what else, but it’s surprisingly not the worst place he’s ever been.

The space quickly dead ends into a ladder that looks like it’s seen far better days, rusting from the bolts outward. Dave can’t help but wonder if it will support his full body weight.

“‘M at her front door,” Joel remarks through the ear piece.

“Climbing the ladder now,” Dave responds as he begins his ascent, gripping the bottom rung and giving it a hard jostle to test its integrity.

The metal rungs protest and groan under his weight, but the structure holds true.

The boys had thought it absolutely ludicrous when Dave had come to them for their help with the hit. Four men for one single woman?

Bullshit. A waste of time and resources.

That is until they’d familiarized themselves with your rap sheet. Just shy of forty murders in less than a decade, and a weapons and ballistics specialist to boot.

But it would all end tonight, and that price on your pretty little head would be a nice cherry on top.

He reaches the hatch leading into your closet a moment later, twisting the mechanism that holds it flush to the wooden floor above.

He draws the Beretta from the holster on his hip, clicking off the safety as he strains his hearing to listen for something, anything, that would give him pause; that would make him abort the mission.

He hears nothing but the music seeping in from the streets through the century old brick.

“I’m in, Joel. I’m in,” Dave whispers, lifting the hatch as he silently crawls inside your closet, the scent of you overwhelming his senses, making his nostrils flair. Cock already half hard in his dark denim jeans at the prospect of another name scratched off his list.

Your name.

——

Joel makes short work of unlocking your door, pushing it open with his foot as he replaces the Glock with the heavier semi-automatic at his back, holstering the pistol on his hip.

His face pinches. You hadn’t even locked the deadbolt, despite having one, a feeling of dread slithering up the crease of his scrotum, perspiration pricking at his skin.

You’ve been waiting for them.

You register Joel first, his heavy footfalls impossible to conceal under the creak of the original wooden flooring. It’s almost laughable how loud they’re being, Joel making a ruckus behind you and the other rustling somewhere in your closet, probably smelling your panties for all you know.

Joel finds you at an open window, back facing him as some loud pop song he doesn’t recognize drifts up from the Quarter below. You’re naked aside from a short, black pleated skirt that barely ghosts the lower curve of your ass, a silver and white fox tail peeking out from beneath the hem of said skirt.

Though he can’t see it from his current vantage, a gun rests on the window sill in front of you. You’re starting to think you won’t be needing it. Not when the man at your back could have already taken a clear shot at you and didn’t.

You lean slightly forward, revealing more of your ass to Joel and cheering as you catch a handful of colorful Mardi Gras beads from one of hundreds of floats below, waving your arms triumphantly over your head before you slip the necklaces around the lovely column of your neck.

Joel spots Dave then, mocha brown eyes shifting to his comrade, his expression unreadable. The Beretta drawn to shoulder height, trained at your head, but he isn’t pulling the trigger. Not yet.

Lowering the rifle, Joel lifts a fist in the air to signal to Dave, take the shot, asshole.

But he doesn’t, and neither does Joel, staring at your bared skin, the exposed hills and valleys of your body. Two men reduced to little more than their base desires in mere seconds. Exactly what you were expecting.

You finally shut the window and turn to face them when they do nothing but stand there, transfixed by your beauty. You’re wearing a masquerade mask in royal purple that’s trimmed with gold lace, cinched tightly behind your head.

You won’t be needing a gun when you can use sexuality as a weapon. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Took you long enough,” you admonish, eyes drifting back and forth between the two men.

The larger one is broad and older, unkempt curls swirling away from his head, dusted with silver. The beard tracing his jaw is dark and patchy, a thick mustache framing his upper lip.

A red and black flannel stretches across the expanse of his upper body, tucked into dark wash jeans, ending with heavy work boots. His eyes darken in their regard of you.

His companion is also broad, only just less so, and younger than his comrade by what you guess to be ten or fifteen years. His face is clean and smooth with the barest hint of shadow, plush lips pushed outward in bewilderment, a black beanie pulled down to conceal his dark hair, matching the rest of his attire.

“Love the outfit, but a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” you ask the younger of the two men. The edges of his lips twitch upward in amusement.

You sway your hips slightly, making the tail between your legs wag to and fro, enticing the two men to ease closer. And they do. Exactly where you want them.

Dave notices your fingers dancing across the lid of a small metal box in the nick of time.

A new party drug originating from Ibiza, its purpose intended to act as a powerful aphrodisiac amongst the most experimental, but as with most things, too much could be dangerous, in rare cases fatal. It usually came in tab form, but it had been sold to you as a fine powder, and your plan was to drug them senseless until they fucked each other to death or you killed them, depending on how bored you got.

You grasp the ornate metal box in your fingers and flick your wrist outward, hurling the contents in a direct trajectory at Dave’s face, which would have hit the intended target had he not been ready to deflect the strike with a hastily lobbed pillow from the nearby sofa.

The cloud the hit produces is magnificent, a shimmery white mist which coats your face and lips and everything else in its path, inhaled through your sinuses and entered through your bloodstream as traces of the powder land on your tastebuds.

You spit and claw at your face, but it’s too late, and you know it.

You’re fucked in more ways than one.

The affects are almost instantaneous, a fiery hot inferno that builds low in your core, a lance of pain sawing through you from the inside out. Your pupils dilate and everything is suddenly too bright, too painful, every source of illumination having a halo that almost resembles a mushroom cloud in its brilliance, its potency.

You feel the sticky slick coating the inside of your thighs and you double over, clutching your guts, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Whatsa matter, darlin’?” Joel asks, your show of pain bringing him immense joy. “Can’t handle what you dish out?”

His cock strains against his jeans as he watches you and you groan, spreading your legs as you slip a finger between your folds in a bid to quell some of the ache. “Fuck…” you grit.

“Jesus, York, the hell’s wrong with her?” Joel questions.

Dave can only stare, transfixed, palming himself over his jeans.

Both men can’t help but jump when Resnik’s voice comes through the ear piece, so lost in your body they almost forgot why they were there to begin with.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

“Good,” Dave responds. “We’re…negotiating.”

“Negoti— fucking seriously?”

“Yes,” Dave answers firmly, his voice a low and husky. “I’ll explain later. For now, stay in a holding pattern, and make sure no one enters the building.”

Resnik starts to say something else, but Dave flicks off the ear piece and tosses it to the floor before he can finish, already forgotten. Joel follows suit.

“Help, please,” you whimper, stepping toward Joel as you fumble in desperation at his jeans. “Need it bad. It hurts.”

Joel abandons his weapons, drunk at the sight of you. His massive hands circle your waist, squeezing, desirous, lifting your skirt to cup your ass, exposing the tail tucked between your cheeks to Dave. You keen and without thinking, Joel bends forward to press his lips to yours.

“Miller, stop —“ Dave spits sharply, but it’s too late. Joel kisses you, deep and wanton, tongue swiping hungrily at your lips, and within seconds he receives his own dose of the drug, though not nearly as much as you.

He spins you in his grasp and hikes your skirt even higher up your waist, revealing your pussy to Dave, dragging two thick, callused digits between your dripping folds, bumping your clit. You moan and press your ass against him, the hard line of his cock nudging at the plug, heightening your pleasure.

“Y’like that, darlin’?” Joel murmurs into the shell of your ear.

“Yes,” you answer too quickly. “But I need your cock.”

“That so?” he answers gruffly, making quick work of his jeans as he shucks them off like a second skin, the drug already firmly rooting itself in his brain.

He tugs his boxers down, fat cock springing free from its confines as he shoves you forward, folding you in half over the couch with a broad palm pressed between your shoulder blades, notching himself at your entrance and pushing himself inward with reckless abandon.

You grunt at the reprieve, the sting of how forcefully he invades you, how he fills you.

Dave watches the events unfold in stunned silence, lips parted and skewed, unbuckling his belt as his eyes fixate on your face, your lovely sparkling eyes. The way your mouth hangs open when Joel begins railing into you with everything he has to give.

He reaches forward and plucks the mask from your face, discarding it, so he can see you. See how well you take it.

He drags the pad of his thumb along your succulent bottom lip, pressing it against your tongue, to the back of your throat, teasing. Testing.

He exhales a groan when you don’t gag.

He quickly steps out of his jeans and boxers, climbing onto the couch in front of you, roughly gripping the sides of your face so that your lips pop open for him.

You take him into your mouth without question, mewling softly, your throat and jaw burning with effort as he sinks himself into you.

Dave presses the barrel of the gun against your temple, his voice a snarl as he says, “Try anything and I’ll spray your pretty little brains all over these walls, sweetheart. Understood?”

You nod around him in affirmation as he begins rutting into your mouth, his other hand fisted tightly in your hair.

It isn’t long before Joel drags your first orgasm out of you, every muscle in your body constricting, relieving the pain only temporarily before it flares up again, white hot and slithering through your veins like molten metal.

“Thassit, darlin’. Takin’ that dick like a champ,” Joel praises, giving your ass a sharp slap. Every thrust of his hips knocking against the plug secured firmly in your ring of muscle.

“Fucking whore, letting two men enter you,” Dave growls, the gun pressed so squarely against your skull, it’s sure to leave an indentation.

Joel finishes inside you expeditiously with a low growl, panting into the small of your back as he collapses forward, knees smarting.

“Quick on the draw as always, Miller,” Dave tuts, clicking his tongue.

Dave’s fingers twist at your roots as he pulls you further onto his length, bottoming out with a shudder at the back of your throat.

“Fuck off, York,” Joel retorts, still fully hard inside of you. He tugs at the end of the tail, smirking playfully, causing you to moan.

“What if I shoved my dick up your ass next, sweet girl?”

You whimper around Dave in reverence. For both of them.

“Not a chance. That ass is mine,” Dave snorts. “Soon as I’m done with this mouth.”

Joel doesn’t argue. Your pussy feels too good, the way you squeeze him, and it isn’t long before he’s railing you hard again, never having gone soft, even at his age.

You cum a second time, soaking Joel, your release splashing down his muscular thighs. Your moans reverberating through Dave’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last like this…” Dave grunts as he pulls himself free from you with a pop of your lips, jaw hanging slack as Joel’s unforgiving pace doesn’t falter behind you.

“Trade places, Joel,” Dave demands.

“Not a chance,” Joel growls, the sounds of his hips slamming against your ass lewd and depraved.

“Now, Miller,” Dave reiterates, eyes deepening a shade as he lifts the gun away from your head to aim it at Joel.

“Fuck,” Joel spits, extricating himself from you as he and Dave exchange places. “Fine.”

Joel’s wide palms cup your face and he doesn’t waste time stretching your jaw and throat beyond their limits because fuck, he’s girthy. You taste the cocktail of you and him on your tongue.

He circles the outside of your throat with his hand and squeezes, feeling himself moving in your esophagus, grunting deeply as he watches you take him.

You jolt when you feel something cold, rigid and foreign dashing through your folds a second later, realizing in abject horror what is happening just as Dave pushes it inside of you and begins fucking you with it.

You moan, eyelids fluttering closed and Joel grunts deep in his chest, hand tightening around the cradle of your throat.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, slut? You like being fucked with my gun?” Dave grits from behind you.

You make a sound of supplication that tells Dave yes, yes you do.

He grins in satisfaction and drives the gun deeper, angling it just right, making you keen. The resulting squelch is deafening and obscene.

He pulls another orgasm out of you almost immediately, once again temporarily relieving the bubbling pain, sobbing around Joel, who’s already filling your mouth with more of his seed, spilling down your throat with a snarl.

He slows only for a moment, still hard as iron, ready to go again. And again.

Dave drags his lips up the curve of your ass and sinks his teeth into the meat of one of your plump cheeks, clamping down. You writhe against him at the small dagger of pain that courses through you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Dave purrs, giving the smarting cheek a slap.

As he continues to fuck you with the barrel of the pistol, his other hand skirts your tight star of muscle, fingers dancing around it.

His hand curls into the synthetic material of the tail, reveling the softness against his fingertips, and begins to tug slowly, lightly, testing.

You initially clench out of instinct, but relax your muscles as understanding settles over you, allowing him to pull it free from your puckered hole, letting it drop to the couch.

“Such a good girl,” Dave croons, tilting his face forward to place a chaste kiss there, the tip of his tongue darting out to circle your rim. You whine and arch into his touch.

“You should have some of this drug, York. Y’won’t have to worry about lastin’ then.”

“No,” Dave says as he lifts his head above your ass to lock eyes with Joel. “One of us needs to keep a clear head.”

“C’mon,” Joel taunts, swiping a finger through the mix of powder and tears still on your face. “Have a taste. Live for once.”

Joel extends his offering to Dave, hovering just over your lower back, inches from Dave’s lips. The men stare each other down, each of their movements slowing, much to your displeasure.

Dave eventually resigns himself, taking Joel’s fingers into his mouth and giving them a good laving with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of the drug, the saltiness of your tears.

Without warning, Joel succumbs to another high, exhaling a sputtered groan as you swallow what he gives you — what little of it there is at this point.

The drug makes quick work of Dave, twisting him into some kind of untethered beast as he drags multiple orgasms out of you with the barrel of the gun, his tongue flicking hungrily against your ring of muscle.

There isn’t a part of you that isn’t on fire. With desire, pain, fear. Fear that this will never end, that these two men will rip you apart from the inside out before all is said and done, but in spite of yourself, in spite of everything, you don’t want it to end.

“Lie back, Joel,” Dave commands and Joel does so without hesitation, his age getting the better of him, welcoming the relief he’ll receive as he makes himself comfortable on your couch.

Likewise, you’re happy for your jaw to have a momentary reprieve, as well, rubbing your tired muscles with your fingers as you catch your breath.

“Get on top of him,” Dave barks at you.

You willingly climb atop Joel, panting, lining yourself up with the slick head of his shaft. Joel’s heavy arm comes up to bar across your hips, pushing you down onto him until you sink all the way to his curls. The new angle making you keen and arch.

Dave presses you forward until your chest is flush with Joel’s, flattening you out before him. Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to wrap his lips around yours again, kissing you sloppily, roving the wet heat of your mouth with his tongue, making you whimper as you begin riding him.

Dave spreads your cheeks apart and spits a globule of saliva at your puckered entrance, pressing two digits inside easily.

“Good thing you already loosened up that ass for me. You can take both of us, can’t you, sweetheart?” Dave murmurs and you simply nod, not wanting to tear your mouth away from Joel.

He lines himself up, placing the weeping slit of his head against your muscle as he begins pushing inward, inch by agonizing inch. Though you’re properly loosened up, there’s still a slight sting as your muscles contract and pulsate around him, stretching to accommodate his size.

You pant in hitched breaths, never having felt so full, so sated, before. It’s like they’re everywhere inside of you, consuming every inch of you like rabid jackals. Joel’s arms lacing around both you and Dave as both men begin to move independently within you.

You soon discover why they work so well as a team. Within minutes their movements are synchronized, a coordinated dance with you placed right in the middle, every downward thrust from Dave immediately proceeded by an upward lance from Joel. And they somehow manage to maintain said synchronicity for quite some time, even as they’re filling you to the brim with their cum.

They pump you full of themselves and you continue to drench them with every orgasm they drag out of you, your shared fluids sluicing down your bodies, soaking the cushions of the couch below.

It’s okay, you can just burn it if you actually end up surviving this. But hey, if you don’t, what a way to go, right?

Everything begins to meld together after a while, lines and vision blurred, your bodies practically stitched together at the seams, a perilous dance between the three of you in the throes of passion when the drug reaches its peak.

Their hands paw at you, knead you, your flesh supple and malleable under their large palms. They dig their fingers in, branding you, bruising marks left in their wake. Your head twists to and fro, tongue snaking between your teeth as you alternate between locking lips with both of them. You aren’t certain, but you think you see Joel and Dave link lips a few times as well, but it’s difficult to ascertain for sure, each scene of debauchery bleeding right into the next.

It goes on like that for hours, Dave and Joel occasionally switching roles, manipulating your overwrought body into a host of varying positions.

You have to stop a few times. For water, or just to take a break and a quick breather before you’re at it again, both men claiming your body like the primitive animals they are.

Dave has to call off his two remaining men when they practically try to beat down your door, understandably mystified and concerned, drinking in the vision laid out before them when Dave answers the door naked as the day he was born.

He sends them away when their motives shift and they make a sudden plea to join, letting them know in no uncertain terms that you are for him and Joel only.

You pout as you watch them leave, ever eager for more, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it, the three of you getting right back into the swing of things the moment they’re gone.

——

You must have shifted to the bedroom at some point during the night, as you rouse from sleep between two massive furnaces of men, a thin sheen of perspiration coating your still naked bodies.

You extricate yourself from the tangle of limbs and climb out from beneath them. You could easily put an end to them right now, if you were so inclined. But there’s something oddly endearing about the way they’re passed out in your bed, practically cuddling one another, Joel snoring like a chainsaw, that gives you pause. You’re amazed you were able to get any sleep at all with them in your bed.

You give them a final glance before you hastily make your way to the bathroom to clean up.

——

After your shower, you slip into a set of loose and comfortable sweats — a stark contrast from last night — tucking your pistol into the band of your sweatpants. You know, just in case.

You sweep up the remaining powder, making sure to wear proper PPE this time, salvaging as much of it as you can, should you ever need it again. As a weapon next time, you tell yourself.

Once done, you wander into the kitchen, chewing on two naproxen tablets before chugging what seems like a gallon of water to alleviate your dehydration and the various aches and pains riddling your body.

You’re starving so you put on a pot of coffee and whip up a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, enough to share. You plate the eggs and bacon on a platter and place them in the center of the table while you finish up the toast.

Your back is to Dave when he enters the kitchen. You feel the boards shift and you spin on the balls of your feet, drawing and raising your gun. You aren’t at all surprised when you find him doing the same — holding the same gun he fucked you with — dressed only in his boxers, your eyes locked, staring each other down in a deadly game of chicken.

“Easy now, kids. Thought ya worked out your differences last night,” Joel chides as he steps into the kitchen next to Dave, adjusting himself in his boxers.

You swallow, eyes blown wide, and you lower your gun first, even though you shouldn’t. After an uncomfortable beat, Dave does the same.

“We good?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Good.” Dave furrows his brow at you, unconvinced, but willing to play nice. For now.

“Smells great, sweetheart,” Joel says, seating himself at the table, helping himself to a plate.

You make a motion for Dave to sit.

“Could be poisoned,” he warns Joel, who flashes him and incredulous slant of his eyes.

“Fuck sake—“ you grit, scooping up a spoonful of eggs and shoving them into your mouth, canting your eyebrows at Dave as you inhale them. “Satisfied?”

Neither of them says a thing, but you catch a glimpse of Joel’s smirk below his mustache as he begins shoveling food into his mouth.

You finish preparing the toast and pour each of them a cup of coffee before serving yourself.

“Thanks,” Dave says, quietly, his eyes sliding down your body, tongue trailing his lips.

“You know, I don’t even know your names,” you say, glancing between the two men.

“Dave,” he replies. “And this is Joel.”

“Well, you already know my name. Nice to meet you, Dave and Joel,” you say.

Silence settles between the three of you while you eat, you seated between them, pouring more coffee when their cups inevitably empty.

You stay like that for a while, mulling over what to say next.

Dave is the first to break the silence.

“Thank you. For breakfast. And for…last night,” he says, averting his gaze.

You smirk.

“I’m not a bad person, you know.”

“Never said you were,” he responds.

“Just a name on a piece of paper.”

“That’s right. The infamous Datura.”

“I don’t kill indiscriminately like you do. I kill bad people. Corrupt politicians. Crooked cops. Genocidal maniacs.” You swallow down a swig of coffee. “But I guess I should have known better than to take out a senator’s son this time.”

“You know, we’re all putting our lives on the line, too, by not completing the contract,” Dave explains. “Should probably get the fuck out of dodge. Maybe you, too.”

His lips skew into a ghost of a smirk, eyes mapping the gentle slopes of your face.

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

“We might need an extra set of eyes, if that’s the case.”

You smile, leaning across the table, resting your chin in the bowl of your palm. Your eyes sparkle sweetly as they shift between Dave and Joel.

“Dave, are you offering me a job?”

His hand comes up to hook around the back of your neck, lips crashing into yours as his other hand grips and squeezes your hip, making you whine when his fingers graze one of many tender spots.

You hear a throaty chuckle rise from Joel next to you.

“Take it that’s a yes, darlin’.”

FIN.

#pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #romance #smut #author #pedro fanfic #dark romance #dave york #joel miller

[heartmachinez]

CELEBRATING 10 YEARS OF HEART MACHINE

A Decade of Creativity and Community

A decade ago, we began a journey that would lead to the birth of Heart Machine - a game studio committed to crafting immersive, vibrant experiences that resonate with players on a profound level. As we celebrate our 10-year anniversary, we reflect on our history, achievements, community, and the exciting future that lies ahead.

THINKING BACK

Glitch City, Kickstarter, and Hyper Light Drifter

In 2013, we took a leap of faith and launched a Kickstarter campaign for our debut project, Hyper Light Drifter. Little did we know that this campaign would not only secure the funds needed to bring our project to life, but also ignite a beautiful connection with supporters, players, and community members who believed in us from the outset.

Fueled by a need for camaraderie and knowledge, we spent those early days of Drifter’s development as a part of Glitch City, a then-small collective of independent game developers, artists, and creators all working together out of Alx’s basement. Those early days and (often) sleepless nights vision were critical in defining our design philosophies, studio culture, and grassroots community connections - setting the stage for what was to come.

Our Heartfelt Gratitude to Our Early Contributors

To date, thanks to the incredible support of our community, the Kickstarter for Hyper Light Drifter remains one of the most successful game projects on the platform. It smashed through the initial funding goal of $27,000 and ultimately raised over $600,000.

To our early backers who believed in us and our vision, and those fellow devs who helped us through endless rounds of playtesting and feedback, we extend our deepest gratitude. Your unwavering support enabled us to bring our dreams to life and emboldened us to continually push the boundaries of game design.

Special shout out to core Drifter team members: Alx Preston, Beau Blyth, Teddy Dief, Casey Hunt, Rich Vreeland, Akash Thakkar, Sean Ward, Lisa Brown, and Cosimo Galluzzi.

The critical reception following the release of Hyper Light Drifter was incredible - beyond our wildest expectations. We never could have anticipated the accolades and recognition it received, or the impact it made on players far and wide. It was humbling, and affirmed our dedication to continue to make great games to share with the world.

Moving Into a New Dimension

We started development on Solar Ash about a year before the multi-platform release of Hyper Light Drifter. Early on, we joined forces with Annapurna Interactive, whose expertise and resources facilitated our exploration of 3D game development. Over the next five years, Annapurna's support played a pivotal role in bringing this ambitious project to fruition. The vastness of the game's ethereal landscapes and fluid movement mechanics opened new avenues for worldbuilding and storytelling.

To date, Solar Ash continues to engage new players and inspire returning ones to create beautiful works inspired by the game. It is following in the footsteps of its predecessor and is now available on a a wide array of game platforms for a worldwide audience.

All of the positive reception that followed Solar Ash’s release proved that our community was ready to continue along this new aesthetic path with us. Just as Drifter smashed through its initial Kickstarter goals,  we are poised to once again smash the boundaries of possibility with our upcoming projects.

HEART MACHINE TODAY

Reimagining a Familiar World

As we celebrate our 10-year milestone, we're thrilled to now be well underway with our newest title set in the familiar Hyper Light Universe. This new project, Hyper Light Breaker, builds upon the foundations we've laid, evolving our creative vision in unexpected ways.

A Shared Journey

Our journey would not be complete without acknowledging the invaluable contributions of our community. From community leaders who pave the way forward with creativity and kindness, to creators who challenge us with incredible skill and passion,  to modders who continuously breathe new life into our games, to wiki writers who meticulously document every detail, to speedrunners who push the boundaries of possibility – you are the heartbeats that keep our worlds alive.

Over the years, we've had the privilege of connecting with our wonderful community at conventions and events across the digital and physical world. These gatherings allowed us to share our passion, hear your stories, and learn from your insights. Your presence and enthusiasm continue to inspire us.

We’re so grateful to: Polare, Lukas, Durtle, Clark, Yrrzy, CornMayor, Aza, Andreas, Conscy, Perfectly Mediocre, Thunderbrave, Bryonato, Utsu, NicowithaC, Covert Muffin, Sylvi, among many many others who make our work worth doing.

Our Company Vision

At Heart Machine, we've built more than games. We've cultivated a company culture that values kindness, inclusivity, and pushing the envelope. Our mission has always been not only to entertain but also leave a lasting impact. This dedication has enabled us to support and grow a thriving studio of some of the most talented, thoughtful, and fun people in the entire industry.

Our ethos revolves around fostering a work environment that prioritizes professional advancement, mental and physical health, and employee happiness. This commitment takes shape in various dimensions of our culture. We proudly offer Heart Machine University (HMU), a collaborative peer-teaching initiative where we cover everything from how to LARP or make sculptures out of driftwood to environment, concept, and tech art techniques. We also organize activities like group gaming and anime sessions, provide access to networking and learning resources, and support social and charitable initiatives to reinforce our team’s sense of purpose. As a studio, we strive to hang our culture on a framework where each individual can flourish and achieve their own growth and learning goals.

It’s no accident that the trajectory of these past 10 years has led us to forming the team we have now. We have always and will continue to adhere to our culture of high quality standards, emphasis on creative innovation, and heart-first leadership practices.

LOOKING AHEAD

As we stand at the threshold of the next chapter, we're excited to announce that Hyper Light Breaker will be arriving in Early Access in 2024. This project represents our ongoing commitment to pushing boundaries, taking risks, and creating experiences that captivate and challenge players in our specifically unique ways.

Beyond Hyper Light Breaker, we have other projects currently under wraps that will continue to define us as a studio. We can't wait to share these journeys with you as we forge into this next decade.

Thank you thank you thank you for joining us on this incredible ride. Heart Machine wouldn't be the same without each and every one of you. Here's to the many more adventures that lie ahead!

With love and gratitude,

The Heart Machine Team

#hyper light drifter #solar ash #solarash #annapurna #gearbox #kickstarter #hyper light breaker #game development #gamedev #indiegamedev #indiegames

[brights-place]

okay, so like... imagine emo boyfriend (floyd) and gyaru girlfriend (reader).

can I pleaseee have some hcs of it??

(if you can ofc)

Floyd dating an GYARU! S/O

Pairings: Floyd X Reader

Warnings: Floyd being an cutie patootie, Fluff

A/N: OKAY BUT WHY ARE GYARUS ARE SO PRETTY? I LOVE THEIR FASHION! AND I LOVE STUDYING IT SOOO MUCH!! As always I add small little facts that I had learnt while studying about Gyaru culture! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა - Gyarus are so pretty! and the fact your emo boyfriend *Cough* floyd *cough* is dating you makes you giggle - Floyd loves staring at you with adoration as you are at your vanity putting on your perfume - Floyd knows that Some gyaru's listen to rock, rap and all sorts of music, and is not limited to Jpop and Eurobeat music since you explained that it was bringing the link between Gyaru and Music closer together. - Floyd loves exploring different genres so learning about your choices of music makes him happy so much! though he questions about your style - Floyd loves hearing about different styles of gyaru and your outfits whenever he gets to see them - Floyd loves your free spirited and rebellious behavior so much - He loves your fashion subculture along with the music you listen to - Floyd loved your confidence and attitude, and you loved his artistic side and passion for life. - You two slowly became an iconic duo in fashion circles, inspiring others to embrace their wild and unique styles in pop village. - When you two have a date it sometimes at an underground show at a cafe in the city and watched local bands play. After the show, they had dinner at a nearby restaurant and talked about everything from music to fashion to their dreams and aspirations. - Most fo the time Floyd is very shy and quiet, while you are outgoing and energetic - Floyd is always swept off his feet by your confidence and fun-loving nature. - Despite your contrasting aesthetics, you and floyd have struck an accord. - You pull Floyd out of his shell, bringing him into your world of light, joy, and color. While floyd in turn, helps you see the beauty in darkness and the value of his mysterious nature.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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#fluff #headcannons #x reader #trolls art #trolls x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #band together #trolls band together #trolls movie #trolls #trolls Floyd #pink troll #emo troll #Floyd troll #trolls floyd x reader #floyd trolls #pink floyd #Floyd #Floyd X Reader #WHDIWNKR #trolls world tour

[jymwahuwu]

in your latest post, about yandere alhaitham and kaveh. we know that kaveh is always fighting with alhaitham. imagine yan!alhaitham and kaveh when they finally married y/n and their housewife. then kaveh always convincing y/n to take his side instead of alhaitham if they're fighting 😭

TW: yandere, forced marriage, (implied) dub-con, kidnapping

part 1

This is a fun idea and I can see Kaveh doing it!!🤔😂 Kaveh is whining about Alhaitham in your ear, kind of like you're his teammate.

Alhaitham and Kaveh are going out more and more, often leaving you at home alone. You used to depend on Kaveh's company - but the talented architect doesn't seem to care about you now either. What if they get bored of you…? You sobbed quietly on the couch, watching the movies (Kaveh said he brought back from Fontaine). It was a romantic movie.

…Until the two of them bring home a wedding dress and force you to wear it.

"W-what is this?" You are confused, grabbing the skirt with both hands awkwardly - it fits your shape perfectly and shows off your beauty.

Alhaitham rests his chin in thought. "…It is necessary to change the dress again. This aesthetic is too conservative. Let's make it shorter here."

Kaveh argued. "Hey, you just want to see their bodies, Alhaitham. What if too many guests get mesmerized by them?! No, no - think about it, it's really possible, arms - arms need to be covered too…"

"I think you are the one who is really nasty. When will your mind be progressive?"

"You- You! A man who kidnaps people has no right to say that!"

"Whether I have the right to say it depends on their opinions. How about it, isn't the skirt too long?"

Alhaitham and Kaveh look at you, seeking your advice. You understand in their explanation that they are planning a wedding these days. They've even invited your family and friends, and the wedding invitations have been sent. You are petrified, but unable to comment on it.

Light of Kshahrewar Kaveh, Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham and you three are married. The wedding caused a stir in Sumeru City - since the marriage laws haven't been changed, it has no legal effect, it's just a little… avant-garde. Scholars at Akademiya debate whether multiple people can marry, even extending to discussions about the nature of marriage and love.

Alhaitham hated trouble. He decided to have only three rings, the same style on all three of your fingers.

After marriage, you're free - they probably don't think you can leave or something like that, but the two of them still fight a lot. Whenever they argue, Kaveh's golden eyes stare at you, seeking your support, and it's hard to resist that sincere gaze. Whenever you agree with him, he will cheer and hug your waist, sticking to your cheek. But maybe it's not a good idea to help any side - it means your punishment or their fight in bed that night.

#alani.answers #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #yandere kaveh #kaveh x reader #genshin impact x you #yandere alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader