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boxboxlewis · 3 months

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Daniel finds out about Max’s divorce from a Google alert.

“FORMER F1 CHAMPION NEWLY SINGLE, SEEN HITTING THE BARS IN MONACO.” Journalistic excellence from the Daily Mail, as always. But when actual newspapers start reporting on it, Daniel decides to reach out. He texts Max a cat meme. Subtext: sorry about your failed relationship, also I know you like cats. Max texts back Are you trying to cheer me up, and then 😂. It’s unclear if he’s 😂 at the cat or the notion of Daniel attempting to comfort. While Daniel is trying to figure this out a third text comes in. Stop reading stupid shit by dumb assholes who don’t know anything.

Nah it’s all good, I can’t read, Daniel replies. He hesitates, and then adds I am like. Sorry about stuff with kelly or whatever though.

Max thumbs-up reacts the message, and doesn’t reply.

Daniel figures Max’ll probably just start dating another exquisitely beautiful, exquisitely groomed woman with a disconcerting resemblance to his own mother. They’re ten a penny in Monaco, where Max still for some reason lives.

He’s not prepared for the next tranche of articles his Google Alert brings him. “MAX VERSTAPPEN SEEN LEAVING GAY BAR.” “VERSTAPPEN REFUSES TO ADDRESS RUMOURS.” “VETTEL COMES TO VERSTAPPEN’S DEFENCE: ‘HE HAS A RIGHT TO A PRIVATE LIFE.’” Like… people go to gay bars sometimes, even if they’re straight. But do straight people let Seb Vettel defend their honour in the media?

Daniel opens his text thread with Max and types Hey, are you. You know.

He deletes it, obviously. He’s got a lot going on in his own life. Brand ambassadorships out the ass, his film production company, his vineyard. He sends Max another dumb meme and calls it good. Max is just doing Max stuff. It’s some belated F1 champion rumspringa, probably, because when he was an actual teenager he was psychotically focussed on racing. He’ll settle down soon enough.

Daniel really isn’t expecting him to announce live on Dutch television that he has a boyfriend. The clip is in Dutch, obviously, but someone has added English captions, and Daniel watches over and over again. RIP his YouTube algorithm. It’s some daytime talk show, the kind of thing Max hates, the kind of thing he’d never do unless someone was twisting his arm about it. The host asks all sickly sweet if there’s a special someone in Max’s life. Max says, “Well yes of course there is my boyfriend.” The “of course” in Dutch sounds like naturally. Naturally, naturally. “And my family I am very close to, as well.” The camera dwells with voyeuristic glee on the talkshow host’s face as she tries and fails to pick her expression up from the floor. “Your boyfriend?” she manages. Max nods, impatient. Daniel rewinds the clip. Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?

Daniel decides to visit Monaco. Not because of Max. It’s summer and the swing of the season is funnelling him that way, that’s all, towards the parties and the glittering people dancing on yachts, getting high, bright and beautiful, living that good life. He doesn’t have an apartment there anymore, but Max does, because Max never left: still has his custom penthouse with its views of the harbour. Unless—it’s a weird thought—unless Kelly kept it in the divorce. But when he texts Max to invite himself to stay, Max doesn’t mention anything about a new address.

Max also doesn’t sound, like, super enthused, but that’s just how he is. It’s his natural Dutchness, most likely. Fine you can come then. You are lucky I don’t have plans is probably just the Dutch way of saying “Yeah sounds great, looking forward to reconnecting.” You are very annoying is probably how people from the Netherlands express affection. Daniel texts back Love you too my brother 🤘🤘

He gets his hair touched up before he goes, a little bit of tattooing at the roots in the front. He does a spray tan, and gets his face dermaplaned (not in that order). You can’t go to Monaco and not look good, that's all.

It always feels kind of weird, flying into Nice in a non-F1 context, first class instead of private, but Daniel fits, still: gets asked for his autograph at the airport, and then on the concourse, and when he stops to put petrol in his rental car (a sweet little Porsche, nice). He tosses his keys to the valet at Max’s building and the valet goggles. That’s right, baby: twelve-time Grand Prix winner Daniel Ricciardo is in town. Daniel winks and the valet turns gratifyingly mauve.

Max, when Daniel pushes into his apartment, is less enthusiastic. “Daniel. I really do not know why you’ve come.”

Daniel ignores him in favour of crouching down, trying to pet Jimmy or Sassy. “Hey, little guy,” he croons. “Or girl. What’s up? Do you remember Uncle Danny? Am I in town to show your daddy a good time? Yeah I am! That’s right. That’s right.” Jimmy or Sassy scowls at him and swipes with one needle-tipped paw. All right, drama queen. Daniel stands back up and grins at Max. “I mean, mostly I wanted to meet your boyfriend,” he says, for some reason. What the fuck, Ricciardo. He keeps grinning, styles it out. “Gotta give him the old shovel speech, right?”

Max is doing the blank-eyed stare Daniel remembers so well from their racing days. It’s wildly disconcerting coming from this Max, who looks. Different, that’s all. He’s thick, still fit and well-muscled but heavy with it now, t-shirt stretched over the layer of hard fat covering his abdomen, face softer. He’s a bear of a man, he could—he could do lots of things, obviously. It’s fine. It’s just that part of Daniel still expects him to be the gawky teenager Daniel loomed over.

Max says, “What do you want to say to my boyfriend about shovels,” and for a bewildering moment Daniel has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Oh, no, it’s like—it’s a saying, or whatever, when someone starts dating someone. I mean, usually dads say it, I guess, but like—the idea is if he mistreats you I’ll…” Daniel trails off as he realises he’s not actually sure what “shovel speech” means. “Uh, hit him with a shovel? Or I guess potentially, like, use it to bury his corpse. Whiiiich is a joke! Not actually going to bury anyone.” No, weird comment, Daniel’s not actually going to bury anyone t-shirt is raising a lot of questions et cetera. Hastily, he adds “As long as he behaves!” and then stands there mentally kicking himself while Jimmy/Sassy yowls soulfully near his ankles. He's never like this, he never loses control of a conversation like this. It's agonising.

Max stares at him for a long moment, and then cracks up. “Daniel, you are still so weird,” he says. It sounds kind of affectionate.

“You know it, baby,” Daniel says. “So, where’s the boyf?

Max’s cheeks go a little red, it looks like. Maybe Daniel’s imagining it. “Ricardo is at the gym,” he says.

Daniel has to have misheard that. “Sorry, what’s this dude’s name?”

“Ricardo,” Max says grumpily. “My boyfriend.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Once again Daniel decides, against his better judgement, to style it out. “Uh, is he Australian, by any chance? And devastatingly charismatic?”

Max sighs, as if Daniel is being really annoying. “He is from Melbourne. And yeah, he is okay I think. Maybe you won’t like him though, because you like always to be the funniest one. Come on, I will show you to your guest room.”

Daniel manages a casual-sounding, “Haha, you got me.” They’re walking through the apartment, now, Max leading the way. For a moment Daniel just watches the sunburned back of his neck.

#my fic #DO straight people allow seb vettel to defend their honour in the media?#maxiel #mv33 #dr3 #getting back on the posting horse please clap #divorce era one of the most interesting of the potential eras imo #future fic

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authorhjk1 · 7 months

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Interlude: Doctor appointment turns into bunny breeding sessions

( Kim Minji X Male Reader)

You sigh as you look around the waiting room. It has been a couple of minutes now, since the two girls left. About to stand up, you suddenly see one of the doors open.

The woman in the doorframe makes your eyes widen. Who is she?

The Korean woman wears a black jacket and a pair of shorts. The shorts almost make it look like she isn't wearing anything to cover her core at all. Her black choker and leather boots complete the all black outfit. It looks like she is also wearing fishnets, which barely even reach her knees.

"Ugh! I hate it here."

She slumps down on the chair on your left. Only now you realize she is also wearing a black top.

"How come?"

You decide to talk to her. This isn't an actual waiting room after all, which means she must live here. And that means, she is probably in on all this.

"The doctor is crap."

She doesn't even look at you as she blows a bubble with her gum.

"Which one?"

"The one with the pink hair."

She has her legs and arms crossed, while she sits next to you.

You frown. The two girls you met at the airport had brown and black hair. Whom is she talking about?

"What's your name?"

"Minji. Yours?"

"(Y/n)."

She offers you her fist and you give her a fist bump.

"Is something going on downtown?"

"What?"

You look at her in confusion.

"Is something wrong with your..."

She deliberately looks down at your crotch.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because the doctors here are specialized in that area."

Minji blows another bubble, letting it pop loudly.

"I see."

It's silent for a couple of moments, before she asks again.

"So? Something going on?"

You ponder if you should tell her. This is still fake. So maybe you will get something out of this. You eye her from the side. Her face looks like that of an angel, although she is currently going for the opposite persona. Her black top is low cut, which means you have no trouble enjoying the view. Because the lower part of her jacket is covering her shorts, it looks like she isn't wearing any pants. Her long, creamy legs are on display.

"I produce too much.... You know?"

You glance at her face as she looks at you.

"I see."

She nods while blowing another bubble.

"And you?"

She shrugs her shoulder.

"I have this kink. Although the doctor says it's an addiction."

She scoffs, before shaking her head.

"What kind?"

You might have sounded a little too curious.

Minji ignores your question as she suddenly looks around.

"Hey, can you make sure no one comes in?"

A little surprised, you nod, before seeing Minji leaving her seat. She walks towards the "counter" before leaning over it. Her jacket rides up as she reaches for something. Her tight black shorts hug her butt perfectly, giving it a perfect shape.

But your eyes are quickly caught by something else. Black ink is decorating her left thigh, right above the back of her knee. The tattoo seems to be made out of three small butterflies.

Once she found it, she turns around, holding up her phone.

"Those idiots took it away from me. They said, I can't stop reading this stuff, but they are just overreacting."

"What kind of stuff?"

You watch Minji walking back to her seat next to you.

"I keep reading fan fiction about me. I'm a rock star, you know?"

"Oh, really?"

"Surprising, right? A sweet girl like me?"

She wiggles her eyebrows mockingly, before turning her phone on.

"And what kind of fan fiction?"

"I found this amazing story on Wattpad least year. The author's name was something with HJK? I dunno. But it was deleted. Luckily, I took a few screenshots."

"And what is it about?"

Minji winks at you.

"It's about how I get my back blown out by the reader."

You don't know how to respond to that. You are glad she keeps talking.

"I'm supposed to have a throat fuck kink, according to the story."

"And is that true?"

You are surprised at how freely she talks about this.

"Well, yeah. I like it. But that's not my favorite thing."

You see her opening her Tumblr account "timetobreedminji". After seeing her username, you are already able to guess, what her favorite thing is. Still you ask her, wanting to hear it from Minji in person.

"And what is your favorite thing?"

The Korean girl looks up from her phone to look at you. Her eyes are big and dark.

"Beeing bred."

Her eyes suddenly become a little darker as if you just triggered something in her.

"The doctors try to convince me, that I'm delusional, but that's not true. Do you know, why my fans call me bunny or rabbit?"

You shake your head. You expected another kind of name for a rock star, but you are in Korea after all.

"Because they all want to breed me."

"Really?"

You don't sound as surprised as you thought you would. Minji nods her head.

"The doctors told me, I'm fertile as hell. Perfect for breeding."

Her phone is lying forgotten on the seat next to her. Glancing at it, you read the title of the post, which she is currently reading. "Doctor's appointment turns into bunny breeding session"

(Author's note: "What the...??")

Minji looks around the room, before sighing heavily.

"Do you know how long it has been, since someone tried to breed me?"

You shake your head.

"About a week ago. I feel so empty."

By now, your dick in your pants is already hard. Forget about Yoohyeon and SuA. You have to fuck Minji first.

"Wait a minute."

She scans you up and down.

"You said your balls are producing too much cum, right?"

You nod your head hesitantly. Minji makes this roleplay stuff feel very real.

"Isn't that great for breeding?"

You should have known this question would come eventually.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the more you cum in me, the higher the chance you breed me properly."

"But I have an appointment soon."

Minji rolls her eyes in annoyance. Her rock star persona shining through.

"I don't give a fuck. Those doctors are dumb anyways. Wouldn't it help us both?"

You think about it for a moment. She is not wrong.

"You would lose some of that cum of yours and I can be your breeding bunny. That's a win-win."

"I don't see the harm in that."

As soon as you agree, Minji straddles your lap.

"Finally I'm gonna get some cum in my belly."

She whispers, before kissing your lips.

You hold onto her thighs to steady her on top of you. Her soft, creamy skin feels smooth underneath your palm.

Minji grinds on you, rubbing her center against your own. She can feel your hard cock in your pants, which makes her even wetter. As she imagines, how you would cum in her, you start to attack the flawless skin on her neck.

You immediately realize, that Minji only has one goal in mind. She already starts to undo your belt. Having sex is just a way to get what she wants. It's just a means to an end. You wonder if that's the role she is playing, or if that's actually her.

You lift your hips as you feel Minji pull off your pants and your underwear in one go.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to suck you off."

The Korean girl's breathing becomes faster as she reaches for your cock.

"I just need your cum in me. As soon as possible."

She let's some spit fall out of her mouth and onto your dick. Her hand makes sure that it's all wet. Still a little surprised at her speed, you are only able to watch as she lifts her hips.

"Get them off me. Please."

She sighs, while waiting for you to pull her pants down as well. The black fabric is tighter around her body as you expected. It takes a second to peel her shorts off of her. She isn't wearing panties, only a small stripe of hair decorates her lower region.

"Put it in already."

Her demands turn into whines as she waits for you to act. You guide her hips towards you, while Minji points your cock at her entrance. As she sinks onto you, you feel her snatch taking in your dick. Minji's walls have a tight grip on you as she lowers herself further.

"If I knew you were so big, I would've taken my time with it."

She sighs as you run your hands along the smooth skin of her thighs.

"I wish I could've felt these around my head."

You tease her as you squeeze her thighs slightly.

Minji sighs heavily, already stuffed with half of your cock. She leans forward, pressing her clothed chest into your face. You feel her hard nipples graze your cheeks as Minji takes a fistful of your hair.

"I'm such a needy bunny, I know."

She pushes your head further into her chest, while she slowly starts to ride you. When she Minji sinks down on you fully, her face is on level with yours. When she moves upwards, she presses your head into her chest. You take every opportunity to kiss her skin as you feel her pussy around your cock. You can feel Minji relaxing and contracting her muscles with the rhythm of her movements. She really does try her best to make you cum as fast as possible.

You wonder, how long you can hold out, not wanting to see this end too soon. You reach behind her to take handfuls of her cheeks. Minji moans into your mouth.

"Just use me, until you cum."

Before you can answer, you are faced with her black top again. When Minji sinks back onto your cock, she throws her head back, letting her hair look like a waterfall behind her.

You start to take control of her bounces, making her go a little faster. Much to her enjoyment it seems as Minji releases moan after moan.

"Make me ride your cock, baby."

Her walls squeeze you tighter, her pussy desperate to milk you dry.

"Fuck, Minji I-"

"Yes! Yes! Cum in me!"

She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You squeeze her ass harder, trying to hold on a second longer as you practically pull her onto your cock, before pushing her off again.

"Breed me! Breed this little bunny!"

You feel pain on your scalp. The result of Minji trying to hold onto her own high, wanting to climax when you cum as well. It makes your head roll back too as you try to ease the pain.

"Give it to me! Breed me!"

"Fuck."

You moan as you finally unload inside of Minji. You hold her down, her pussy sealed around your cock tightly. The young woman shakes slightly on top of you as she feels her orgasm washing over her, while your cum floods her insides.

You open your eyes, when you finally come down from your high. Minji's chin rests on your shoulder as she tries to catch her breath. This was quite short. And yet, really good. It's evident that she has some experience. You feel your cock still inside of her as Minji slowly rolls her hips.

"Do you think you can give me a another load? Just to make sure you are breeding me properly?"

You could have said no. Maybe you even should have, knowing that the other two girls are waiting for you. And yet, you can't help yourself.

You wrap your arms around her, trapping Minji against your body. The two of you stay connected as you stand up. Although Minji is small and light it's still hard not to trip. You carry her to the kitchen counter as you feel her lips on your neck.

"Drown my pussy in cum, baby."

She whispers into your ear as you sit her down on the counter. She unlocks her legs behind you, enabling you to take them into your hands.

Minji lies down, her back pressed against the cold surface. She can feel it underneath her jacket. She is still wearing her boots and fishnets as you put her ankles onto your shoulders. You have a great view of Minji's pussy as you let your hands glide along her legs. Your fingers dance over the dark butterflies on her skin, until they reach her waist.

You see the young woman nodding. Her gaze a mixture of excitement and need.

Slightly pressing down on her belly, you almost pull out completely.

Pushing back inside, you hear her pussy making wet sounds. You push your cum further into Minji as you start to rock her world on top of her own kitchen counter.

"Oh fuck! So much cum!"

She feels your warm cum inside of her as you fuck her hard.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Minji arches her back off the stone surface. You hold onto her thighs, feeling one of her ankles slowly slip off your shoulder. The young Korean seems to interpret your actions differently.

"Yes! Put me in a mating press! Breed me!"

She moans loudly, almost shouting. You pull her further towards you, making her ass leave the surface. Leaning over her, you push Minji's legs towards her body. You start to fold her in half. Her boots reach her head and she holds onto her own ankles. You place your hands on the back of her thighs, one directly on her tattoo.

Her pleading face makes you fuck her harder. Now you are slightly above her, hitting even deeper spots.

"Fuck yes! Push your cum further!"

Minji mewls as you keep pounding her. You feel your muscles slowy getting tired as you use all your strength to push into Minji. She looks so sexy like that. Lying on her back, her ankles in her hands, unable to do anything but take your pounding.

Your thumb grazes over her butterflies. You are not a fan of permanent tattoos on women, but fake ones like these are very sexy. This one is quite small, but seductive. You wonder how Ahin would look wih a tattoo. Maybe on her back? A big one?

You lose your thoughts as Minji's pussy brings you back to reality. It squeezes your cock tightly, trying to drain you again. You feel your orgasm approaching as you fuck Minji into the counter.

"Gonna cum!"

You are surprised she cums so early, you expected her to orgasm with you again. She reaches around her anke with her left hand, covering her mouth with her hand.

Minji's head rocks back and forth along with her body as you drive her towards her orgasm.

"Fuck!"

Her scream is muffled, yet audible. Her body shakes, a little harder than the first time, as Minji cums around your cock again. It makes her pussy tighter, bringing you closer towards the edge as well.

"Fuck, Minji. I'm gonna cum in you."

"Yes!"

Her hand has left her mouth as she nods her head vigorously.

"Fill me up again! Breed my little bunny pussy! Give me baby bunnies!"

Not the usual choice of words, when someone begs you to cum in them, but Minji makes it sound somewhat alluring.

You grip harder onto her thighs as you push her legs further towards her. She is one flexible woman, taking your pounding in this position with ease.

"Fuck!"

You hiss as you unload a second time in Minji's pussy.

"Yes! Fill my womb! Cum in me!"

Her hole holds onto you tightly as you shoot rope after rope of cum into her freshly fucked pussy.

"So warm."

Minji sighs as she feels your cum inside of her. You lean over her, pressing her legs against her torso.

"I hope you stay addicted to this. I would love to breed you again."

Minji chuckles, wrapping her hands around your neck, pulling you closer.

"Wait for me after your appointment. And don't waste too much cum on them. They don't know how to appreciate it."

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #dreamcatcher #kim bora #yoohyeon #jiu #minji #kim minji #bunny

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copper-16 · 2 months

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You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here.

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right?

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to.

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls.

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients.

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there.

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally.

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along.

It’s just, nobody had.

But perhaps that would change.

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back.

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling.

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town.

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where.

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike.

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded.

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action.

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear.

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet.

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet.

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet.

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like.

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in.

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table.

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to.

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man.

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head.

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot.

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken.

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk.

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do.

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name.

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally.

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion.

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room.

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence.

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them.

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble.

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive.

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act.

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune.

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble.

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her.

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs.

And god was Misa wrong.

This woman wasn’t attractive.

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop.

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk.

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid.

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now.

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high.

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work.

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English.

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded.

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin.

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman.

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out.

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation.

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious.

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name.

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes.

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s.

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily.

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on.

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers.

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers.

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different.

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her.

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully.

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair.

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt.

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently.

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen.

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless.

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away.

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care.

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer.

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly.

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy.

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason.

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low.

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back.

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette.

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise.

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back.

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body.

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid.

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman.

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow.

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought.

It was her choice.

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in.

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly.

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat.

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing.

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree.

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap.

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power.

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it.

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless.

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own.

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling.

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core.

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier.

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs.

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace.

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons.

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed.

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second.

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning.

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to.

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something.

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more.

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots.

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more.

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished.

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest.

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other.

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly.

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful.

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate.

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten.

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk.

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such.

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with.

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways.

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like.

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again.

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her.

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly.

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance.

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently.

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own.

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time.

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually.

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises.

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her.

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace.

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there.

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire.

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut.

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful.

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin.

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere.

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette.

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed.

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow.

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while.

#ingrid engen #mapi leon #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #misa rodriguez

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

Text

One piece modern au, Mama Rouge :)

Happy Mother’s Day :)

Here’s some mama Rouge for the occasion!

Additional info about her 👇(there's a lot.)

Rouge is a bit sickly. Throughout Ace’s formative years, she was in a hospital, sick. Its honestly a miracle she got through child birth alive, but she’s a very very strong woman.

Garp was there when Ace was born because I like to imagine that Garp was Gol D. Roger’s Parole Officer, and so of course he became a family friend. But since he was there for Ace's birth, he was also there when Rouge held her newborn and cried because she knew she couldn't take care of him in her condition.

And look, I don't know how child handling works, but I think it would be really funny if Garp was like "you're okay, girlie, I got the perfect idea." And then he held out a sheet of paper with all the people on his parole list and said like "pick one, this could be part of their community service sentence."

And Rouge was like "might as well, I guess, I don't want to put him in an adoption center or foster home so I guess I'm doing this". Then she picked out Dadan because 'dad' is already in her name, and she's not really given anymore qualifications other than that, so Dadan it is.

Plot twist though because all these convicts just all live with each other so it really wouldn't have mattered, it just meant that now Dadan would be the main guardian of Ace.

-------------

Because she was in the hospital for so long when ace was growing up, she’s a bit of a mystery to him. Sometimes (like 3 times a year) she would come to visit him at The House Of Dadan and bring homemade large stuffed animals for him made with Ace's old clothes she's patched together. Ace loves them and they're on a high up shelf in his room, practically untouched in fears of potentially breaking them.

Whenever Ace has a day with Rouge, it's usually a bit awkward. Like Ace doesn't know how to have a mother and Rouge doesn't know how to have a son, but she is trying her best to have fun with him whenever she gets the chance to.

youtube

I kinda envision these vibes. Not exactly but adjacent.

Very like "what do you wanna do, sweetie :)"

Ace never gets to visit her at the hospital because Rouge doesn't want him to see her in that kind of setting. He tried to once when he became an adult but he was turned away at the door. He may or may not have tried to then find her through the outside of the building through windows and he may or may not have been kicked off the premises by security.

---------

The first day on the job after Ace completes his tattoo artist apprenticeship, he gets a customer who called the day before requesting him specifically, which is a little weird since he had just started that day, normal patrons wouldn't know him.

When it's time for the appointment, he goes to the floor from the back of the shop, and the person sitting in his appointment seat,

Is.. is his mom.

Shes talking to his coworkers and laughing with them! Ahh no nononono. His mom is not supposed to see this part of his life. What is she doing here????

He rushes over to her and asks her what she's doing here for??

"I'm getting a tattoo from my son :) can I get this flower please? :)"

So he starts the tattoo process and Rouge is very cooperative and receptive to when he needs her to move or anything like that.

He's.. he's never actually been this close to her for so long...

He glances up one and he sees her smiling so softly at him.

Ace looks away quickly, hoping she doesn't see him blushing.

For all wondering, the tattoo that she has is very much on her ass and it is very much Roger's name.

That's all I got. I got a couple of people asking about Ace's family situation, so here ya go :)

Oh additionally, Roger died before Ace's birth from Cancer

Thanks for reading if you got this far :)

#my art #one piece #portgas d. ace #portgas d rouge #one piece fan art #one piece ace #one piece modern au

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

“Steve! We have to go!”

“I’m coming!” He yelled back to Robin, still searching through his closet for the pants he planned for their night out. “Where the hell are they?”

He was throwing things out of the way, not caring where they landed.

That was a problem for future Steve.

Current Steve needed to look as hot as possible.

His dry spell would be over tonight. He wasn’t leaving the bar until it was.

“Steve!”

“Robin! Where are the jeans?”

“What jeans?”

“The jeans! The ones that you told me to wear!”

“Didn’t you wear them yesterday?”

“No! I saved them!”

But Steve looked over at his laundry basket where his shirt was hanging over and the pair of jeans he was looking for peeked through.

He did wear them yesterday.

Fuck.

Okay, back up options.

The dark jeans that actually probably belonged to someone else and didn’t fit his thighs right? No, he needed to show off his thighs.

The light jeans he hadn’t worn in at least a year because there was a questionable stain that wouldn’t come out? Well, it would be dark in the bar, but no. He’d know about it.

The jeans he wore earlier that weren’t special but also weren’t bad? How would that help him get laid? No.

So he looked back the jeans in his hamper, ignoring Robin’s angry yelling from outside his door.

“Found them! Two minutes!”

He put on the jeans, hoping they didn’t smell or have any stains on them.

He ignored Robin as he threw on his coat that was hanging on the back of the couch and ignored the dull headache blossoming across his temples.

He opened the door and started to leave.

“You coming?” He asked over his shoulder, laughing when Robin smacked his arm as she passed by him.

“Don’t act like you’re waiting on me. I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes!”

They barely spoke on the way to the bar, Robin already sensing his headache and probably hoping the silence would make it better before the night got started.

She was amazing.

Steve couldn’t live without her.

But hopefully, they’d both find someone tonight. They needed it.

— — — —

Steve wasn’t having any luck. In fact, he’d never had worse luck.

His head was pounding at this point, music much louder than usual, more people crowded around his usual spot. The three men and one woman he’d danced with so far were fun, but not really his type. He’d been a little upset about seemingly wasting his time, but swallowed down the bitter feeling when he saw Robin dancing with the same girl for three songs, huge smile on her face.

At least one of them was getting something from tonight.

He stood at the far corner of the bar, trying to be out of the way as best he could. He needed to have some water, but he knew the bartender wouldn’t be pleased about getting pulled away from actual paying customers. He would wait for a lull and then get his attention.

It was a new guy, or at least one who didn’t normally work the shifts Steve was here. He was pretty.

There was no other way to describe him; long, curly hair, tattoos everywhere, wide Bambi eyes, tall and thin frame that still held hidden muscle. Steve’s dream, really.

Too bad his vision was getting blurry from the headache.

He had to reevaluate his plan and get water now before he went into full migraine territory. He couldn’t pull Robin away from her night just because he had to get home safely with a debilitating migraine.

He started trying to wave to the bartender anytime he looked over towards Steve’s end of the bar, but it didn’t work.

He tried yelling over the crowd and music, but it ended up making his head throb worse.

He finally managed to throw a napkin at him when he was standing a few feet away.

Not his finest moment, but he’d apologize when he had water.

The bartender looked over at him with raised brows.

“Need something?”

Steve couldn’t help the shame he felt about literally everything happening at that moment.

“Water please?”

The bartender nodded once and grabbed a cup to fill with ice and water. Steve felt some of his muscles relax knowing that he was going to be able to hydrate a little.

When he placed it in front of Steve, he slid a small cup of lemons with it.

“Squeeze a little in there. Helps with headaches.”

Steve knew he was looking at Eddie like the sun shone out of his ass. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so dreadfully miserable from the almost-migraine.

“Thanks.” Then he realized how shitty he must look if the bartender knew what was going on from just looking at him. “Wait. How’d you know?”

“My uncle gets them bad. He always gets pale and his eyes get bloodshot when one’s coming. You looked in the mirror lately?”

Steve shook his head, then winced at the way it made his head pound.

“You here with someone?”

“Yeah. She’s dancing.”

“Need me to have an announcement made for her?”

“No, let me drink this first.”

The bartender nodded, but Steve noticed he kept checking on him between serving other drinks to people.

Steve used more lemon than he probably should have, but he had a whole cup of it, and it couldn’t hurt to use more.

He rested his head against the wall next to him, wincing at the excessive vibrations from the music.

Normally, he loved that their hole in the wall bar got loud and fun once a week. Tonight, he wished he could be surrounded by silence.

He knew he was getting worse, but he didn’t want to bother Robin, who was still dancing with the same girl. She’d probably go home with her as long as Steve didn’t interrupt.

He felt a hand on his forehead, slowly brushing sweaty hair away. He tried opening his eyes, but even the small amount of light seeping through his eyelids was too much.

“Hey, I’m Eddie. I’m the bartender. My relief just walked in so I’m gonna help you to the back, okay?”

Steve could barely nod, the pain in his head throbbing down his jaw and neck. He reached his hand towards the voice and managed to make contact with Eddie. Hopefully, Eddie understood he was not gonna be able to do anything helpful at this point.

He felt an arm around his waist, guiding him away from the bar, but Steve still didn’t want to try opening his eyes. He had to trust Eddie.

He should’ve stayed home. He knew the dull pain he felt earlier would turn into worse, but he was so stuck on getting in bed with someone, he came anyway.

Eddie was walking slowly, keeping a firm grip on Steve so he wouldn’t jostle him around too much. Maybe if Steve weren’t getting his brain attacked by hammers and knives, he’d be trying to get Eddie in bed.

That thought came and went though as he realized how pitiful it was that a grown man couldn’t even walk himself home because he had a migraine.

Eddie would probably tell this incredibly embarrassing story to everyone here and laugh about it for weeks.

Steve was in and out of it for the next few minutes, unable to really focus on anything around him besides the warm hand on his hip. Despite being sweaty enough to wring water from his shirt, he still felt cold, shivers occasionally wracking his body.

This was a really bad one.

He was so stupid for being stuck in a bar for this.

His brain registered a door closing, then a fan turning on. It wasn’t completely silent, but the outside noise was a small echo in his brain compared to the banging it had been previously.

“Gonna set you on the couch in the corner and get some ice.”

Steve didn’t acknowledge him, but he let out the most ridiculous whimper when Eddie set him down on the couch, slowly laying him back so his whole body was flat. He heard the door open and close, but was so focused on how nice the air from the fan felt, he didn’t hear the door open and close when Eddie came back in.

“Alright, gonna put this on your head. Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

Eddie sighed, but placed the bag of ice on his forehead to start.

“Get these often?”

Steve appreciated his very low voice, knowing that anything at a regular volume would probably be too much in this quiet room.

“Mhm.”

“I grabbed you more water too. Think you can have a sip?”

“Mm. No.”

He heard Eddie laughing quietly, but he couldn’t smile back at him.

“You live close?”

“Mhm. Mile.”

“I live closer.”

“Hm?”

“Welcome to my humble abode. I own the bar, work at the bar, and live at the bar. Technically this is the staff office, but upstairs is my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If you think you can handle the stairs, you can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’ll let your friend know you’re here too if you give me a name.”

“Steve.”

“Your friend’s name is Steve?”

“No. Mine.”

“Okay, what’s your friend’s name, Steve?”

“Robin.”

He tried opening his eyes so he could see his surroundings, but they were so heavy. Leave it to Steve to end up suffering with the worst migraine he’s had all year at a bar with a hot bartender taking care of him and he can’t even open his eyes to fully appreciate it.

He distantly heard the door again, but must’ve fallen asleep for a bit because the next thing he knew, he felt hands on his face.

“You’re sure he can stay here?”

“Robs?”

“Steve. You idiot. You should’ve told me it was getting worse.”

She was whispering, but she was angry with him and he knew she would be yelling if she was a worse friend.

“Sorry.”

“Eddie’s gonna handle it. I’m gonna take Chrissy home. You call me as soon as you’re up, got it? I’ll send the cops here to break down the doors if I don’t hear by lunch time tomorrow.”

“Got it.”

He was gonna forget, but hopefully Eddie would remind him.

When he had bad migraines, he pretty much forget everything he did or said. None of the doctors could explain it. He’d had scans done, and there were no signs of memory diseases, so it was just a part of the trauma from multiple concussions.

He could hear Robin telling Eddie the same thing. If he could make his face work, he’d probably smile.

He drifted again, but he could hear Robin still talking to Eddie as he did.

The next time he was fully aware, he was in a bed. The bed was huge, and there were so many pillows around him, it felt like a fort.

Two blankets were on top of him, one so soft he couldn’t help rubbing his cheek against it. He was surrounded by a cozy, light cologne smell.

He was also fully clothed.

His jeans were itchy, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic as he realized the sun was up and he was alone in a stranger’s bed.

He sat up and looked around.

The room itself wasn’t that big, the bed taking up most of the space. The door was closed, but he could hear someone moving around outside of it. He looked to the right to see a door that must lead to a bathroom.

He quickly got out of the bed, shoving his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off the table. He opened the door and saw the back of a man with long, curly hair.

The bartender.

Eddie.

Eddie had taken care of him during his migraine. His migraine that he should’ve known was coming and stayed the hell home.

He was an idiot.

When Eddie turned around, he felt his heart stop.

God, he was pretty.

Like, Steve might have to change up the nights he comes to the bar just to get a glimpse of this beautiful man.

“Hey. Feeling better? Must be since you’re standing without support.”

Steve blushed. He’d never been in this position before, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette is for thanking someone for taking care of you when you’re unable to even move or talk.

“Uh. Yeah, much better. Um.” Steve awkwardly stood by the counter while Eddie continued mixing coffee in a mug. “Thanks for. All that.”

Eddie was laughing. In another circumstance, Steve may have found it cute, maybe been proud of himself for making a hot guy laugh.

But he was dealing with a migraine hangover, which usually left him grumpy.

Eddie must’ve noticed because he stopped laughing abruptly.

His head tilted to the side as he looked Steve up and down.

“You know, Robin called four times already this morning to check on you. You should probably call her and let her know I didn’t murder you and hide the body already.”

“Okay. Yeah. I.” He felt around in his pockets and couldn’t feel his phone. Shit.

“Over there. Charging.” Eddie said as he pointed towards the table by his front door.

“Thanks.”

Steve walked over to his phone to see 33 missed calls from Robin.

He called her back immediately, not wanting her to actually show up with a SWAT team.

“Thank god! Steve, I told you to call by lunch. I was just about to call Hop.”

“You’re the one who left me here.”

“Yes, assuming you’d wake up early enough that I wouldn’t assume you’ve been murdered!”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 3:00, Steve!”

“Fuck. Okay. I’m leaving now.”

Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at the counter, which now had a plate of fried eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on it.

“Okay I’m eating, then I’m leaving.”

“You better text me. I’ll show up with Hop!”

“Robin. Jesus.” Steve felt a bit lightheaded. “I am literally at the bar. You know where I am and who I’m with. Chill.”

“You were incapacitated.”

“And now I’m not. I can escape if I have to.”

“You’re not as strong as you think you are!”

He hung up before she kept going. She would stay on the phone for hours if he let her, and he wasn’t in the mood.

He made his way to the counter and sat down, smiling at the steaming food.

“You didn’t have to cook all this. Especially this late in the afternoon. You probably have to head down to the bar.”

“Nah. I own the place. I just work there to keep myself busy. I’m all yours until you’re good to go home.”

Steve didn’t have much of a response for that, his brain still firing on the bare minimum. Migraine hangovers were worse than actual hangovers.

He ate a few bites silently, then looked up to see Eddie setting a cup of tea in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“Technically, sleepy time tea. But it works really well for headaches.”

“Oh. Thanks. It won’t like, make me fall asleep?”

Eddie laughed and Steve decided he was happy to hear it now.

“No. It has relaxing properties to it, but it doesn’t actually make you drowsy.”

Steve took a few small sips and smiled.

“It’s good.”

“My uncle says I make the best.” Eddie leaned over the counter with a smile. “So, you thought going to a bar was a good idea with a headache? On our DJ night?”

“It wasn’t that bad when I left. Thought I’d be okay.”

“Mhm. So you get these a lot?”

“Well. I mean I do get migraines a lot. But that one was one of the worst I’ve had in a while. I can usually still talk and walk enough to get to my own bed.”

“Do you remember everything?”

Steve knew he had a lot of blank spots in his memory from last night. If Eddie wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d probably be more worried about it.

“No. I have memory problems when I get them.”

“Ah. Well that’s okay. I got you into bed pretty easily. You only woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom, which you managed to do alone. The second time you were crying about having to sleep alone? I couldn’t understand all of it, but that seemed to be the gist.”

“Oh.” Steve sighed. “That’s super embarrassing. Guess I’ll never come back here. Maybe never leave my house again.”

Eddie smirked. “I dunno. I think maybe I could fix the sleeping alone thing. You know, when you’re not incapacitated from a migraine.”

“You’re serious?”

Eddie nodded.

“You saw me like that and would actually want to be around me again?”

“I was hoping for more than around you. Maybe on you? In you? Next to you? All of those sound good.”

Steve choked on his next bite.

“Uh.”

He took a sip of the tea to help clear his throat, ignoring the way Eddie was moving around the counter.

“You know, Robin kept me on the phone for about an hour earlier, telling me all about how you’re the best guy she’s ever known and she’s a lesbian for a reason so that means a lot. Said you guys come here once a week because it’s the best place to find decent people, not just anyone. Said you’ve both had a bit of a dry spell.”

“She’s exaggerating.”

“Oh, so it hasn’t been eight months since you’ve taken someone home?”

“No.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a challenge.

“It’s been ten.”

“My bar hasn’t been good to you, I guess.”

“Up until last night, I guess not. But I still prefer it over the clubs.”

“Until last night?”

“Yeah. The guy who owns the place kind of rescued me and let me sleep in his really comfy bed. He probably deserves something for that.”

“Oh? What does he deserve?”

“Well, I’d offer a blowjob, but I’m out of practice and might disappoint.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“But maybe he’d be okay with a real date?”

“When would this date be?”

“Maybe tonight?”

“Hm. He has to check the bar schedule, make sure no one needs coverage.”

“He can text me later to confirm.”

“I sure hope you’re giving me your number to do that.”

Steve laughed and held his hand out. Eddie placed his phone in his hand and waited for him to type his name and number in his contacts.

When Steve handed it back, their hands grazed each other. Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, squeezing for a moment.

“Dinner here? Maybe 8?”

“I thought you had to check the schedule.”

“Nah, just needed your number. I make the schedule, I know it like the back of my hand.”

Steve shook his head.

“Can’t start a relationship on lies.”

“Oh, a relationship? You move quick don’t you.”

Steve did. He knew he did. It’s why he’d never been able to keep anyone around. He moved like he was ready for marriage on the first date, and usually people didn’t like that.

He looked down at his lap, already prepared to lose Eddie’s interest.

But he felt a hand on his cheek, slowly guiding him to look up.

“Dinner here at 8?”

“Uh. Yeah. Please.”

Eddie smirked at him before he placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Just be yourself, Steve. I like you just fine. And I’ve already seen you at your worst and your crazy best friend. It’s all uphill from here.” Eddie pulled away and moved back to start cleaning dishes from his cooking. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up married by the end of the year.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“Am I?”

Eddie looked over his shoulder, serious look on his face.

“Are you?”

“No. Stranger things have happened.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #tumblr drabbles #migraine Steve is important to me because I have one right now #which is why this is not great #but also why I had to do it anyways #robin buckley #the friend we all deserve

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pspaura27-blog · 22 days

Text

Uncle Sukuna!

Feat. Teacher!

After his graduation, Yaga asks if he wants to be a teacher, citing that he is strong and all, but Yaga actually prays that Sukuna will get a bratty student so he can suffer, too.

Sukuna doesn’t want to live in Sendai, Jin’s PDA with the damn woman and all, so he agrees.

Then, he meets his Karma, the triple S: Satoru, Suguru, Shoko. Urgh.

He is late 3 minutes to the first homeroom class and Gojo breaks the window in a damn fight with Geto.

“Now, who the fuck did that?!”

“Sensei, I—”

“Fuck, you know what? I don’t give a shit, go run laps, all of you brats!”

Gojo Satoru is very bratty, confident in his own strength, and he likes to flip Sukuna off. So, the two duel it out in the training ground.

Sukuna is old and he also wins(?) in canon, so he knocks Satoru to the ground and mocks him.

“Ha! So this is all the Six Eyes holder can do, huh? I guess you are fucking overrated, brat. Now, get your ass up and go do the fucking report!”

He regrets it later when Satoru wouldn’t leave him alone, determined to win against him one way or another.

Satoru seems like the type to knock his room at 3 in the morning for a round.

And he has to clean up after their mess.

The Star Plasma in particular. Sukuna knows it. Geto Suguru is as fucking reckless as his buddy, that’s a fucking apartment he blows up! And who deals with paperworks and those fucking elders? Him!

[[Sensei, it wasn’t me—]]

[[I’ll chop you into damn pieces, brat! Better be prepare for an F!]]

God, does this mean he fight with Toji?!

Sukuna is waiting at the gate for his students to return with Riko. Then, he lets Gojo get stabbed because—

“You didn’t see that, huh? That’s pathetic. You better train harder if you wanna call yourself the strongest.” Sukuna scoffs and throws him to Geto. “Get out of my way, brat.”

“…” Riko thinks she knows where Gojo gets his attitude from!

After wrecking buildings, Sukuna wins and gets Megumi..?

He feels his veins throb, does he look like a charity person or something? Hello, he even has a face tattoo! Take care of your own damn brat because he will not do that!

Probably heals Toji so he doesn’t have to take Megumi.

“Our teacher might look like that but he is a softie.” Suguru smiles softly. “When he told us about this mission, he said that—”

“Do it, brats, if you’re so weak that you need another brat to protect you. I dare you!”

“And the elders—”

“I don’t take order from those weaker than me.”

“Oh, I didn’t— expect that.”

Suguru hums. “He likes kids, actually.”

Sukuna goes to visit his bratty nephew that month. Yuuji is 3 but he runs to tackle his leg like a little octopus.

“Un-cal Kuna!” Yuuji squeals. “Whoa, me misses you s’a lot! Kuna, you bwing me owange candies?”

“Are you missing me or candies, brat?”

He grumbles but still pulls out a bag of orange candies for his toddler nephew. He doesn’t spoil the brat. He just doesn’t want to listen to him complaining.

“Oh, dear, how are you here?” Kaori walks out to greet him with a surprised smile. “I thought our elders fried you alive by now. It was Master Tengen after all.”

“Like those wrinkle bastard can do anything to me.”

That star brat is, like, 10 years older than Yuuji. Deep down, he thinks it’s just wrong, it could have been Yuuji, but he will never admit it.

Yuuji chews on his candy, mumbling a new word under his breath. “Bash-tard.”

“Don’t repeat that, brat!”

#jjk #jjk 257 #sukuna #uncle sukuna #yuji itadori

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charliesgoodboy · 7 months

Note

Hi idk if you write for shameless but if you could do Ian and Mickey and a shy male reader who they just love to tease bc they like seeing him get all flustered. Like he’ll start blushing or stumbling over his words

I.GALLAGHER M.MILKOVICH🕷

we goin' dumb

girl, got me fucked up.

mmm this yeah here, lean in my cup

can't tell me 'bout shit 'bout nun'

told the bitch don't shut me up,

wanna see them bands

wanna see them bucks.

bad bitches 'gon love me up,

bad bitches 'gon love me up.

song: . . .ılı GMFU odetari, 6arelyhuman

TW: teasing, male leaning reader(fem welcome because i do not care), i think i made reader a little touch starved, reader is actually shy not that uwu shit(hopefully i did, i word things horrible), bottom leaning reader, you may or may not be able to tell which is my favorite(it's the one who isn't ginger)

ian gallagher who wouldn't mean to 'make fun of you' in a way, he just found the fact you'd sometimes cling to him or whisper words you were going to say to a waiter to yourself but you'd end up looking at him to take the order for you. watching you mutter a 'thank you' as the woman would write down your order and walk away, he couldn't help but smile, you'd do this almost all the time with others but with him you could talk your ear off if you were really, really, really comfortable. only being comfortable isn't enough you could still barely look him in the eye, you were working on it though. "could you look at me when you're speaking? i feel like you're talking to fifty different people." "i am." "could've fooled me."

mickey milkovich who would think you're rude and weird as shit when he first met you, the looking at me in the eye thing would bug him and itch at him at times. "hey, who are you talkin' to? your eyes are movin' around like thirty miles per second" "i'm talking to you–" "and speak up, no one can hear you sweetheart." the name sweetheart was clearly ironic and he didn't mean it but the laughing fit he'd go into seeing how truly effected you were by it, you looked like your mom caught you up late at night on a school night damn. but as time would pass he'd learn to live with it, not without taking advantage of it of course he wasn't that stupid.

ian gallagher who would purposely scoot closer to you on the couch not for the sake of the two of you being together but the sake of feeling you tense up when all he did was scoot a few and wrap his arm around your shoulder as the movie played. his eyes would linger at your body language with your nails scratching your wrist and your legs rubbing together and crossing sooner or later obvious discomfort but just in a different way he'd fix that for you. "need a little help there?" "n—no." "so yes?" he could just tell you felt pins and needles all around the embarrassment was getting to you like a bitch but damn he was tempting.

mikey milkovich who felt and indescribable feeling having sex with you. obviously he's shared you with ian before, and he's had sex with only ian before and those times were very memorable. but he still loved to have just you, shit anyone could get addicted to you. your body shivering and jolting at almost any touch he'd give you, going a little slow at first then slowly getting rougher with you loving each and every moan, groan, and whimper. the edging wojld be almost never ending and him sucking you off was euphoric, fuck he was talented with his tounge. his tattooed hands holding your thighs to keep your legs open as the warm feeling would bubble in your stomach each and every time you felt like cumming, your legs trying to close together in sensitivity but he wanted to swallow all of you. "you gotta work on tryna' keep your damn legs closed." "i do try.. " "doesn't mean it's not hot, i changed my mind."

ian gallagher and mickey milkovich that loved looking at the different expressions on your face of pleasure which let them know how well they were doing. mickey could have you take him from the back and ian would have you take him in by the mouth instead, your eyes blinking a little faster and rolling back due to the both of them. jealousy talks would be hell between the three, neither you or mickey could fess up to it or explain the hell he was doing wrong. but with just you? shit you were good at hiding it but they could tell if you had something to say. "you gonna tell us whats wrong? or are you gonna sit there lookin' like a bomb that's 'bout to implode." "tell you what? there isn't anything to tell." "you're a terrible liar, put your chin up and say what's the matter." damn this was gonna be a long night.

#shameless x reader #shameless x male reader #shameless smut #shameless x you #shameless x y/n #mickey milkovich x reader #mickey x reader #mickey milkovich x male reader #ian gallagher x mickey milkovich #ian gallagher x male reader #ian gallagher x reader #ian gallagher #ian gallagher smut #mickey milkovich #mickey milkovich smut

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

Icarus Part 5

And here we arrive at the second post today. I'm just trying to move through my backlog so that I'm down to my preferred three ahead. Glitters is at the rut, so only a chapter or two left to write, so that's almost done. Soulmates is to filling the gaps in the "In Media Res" scene and is nearing its end, too. Which means with any luck, I'll be down to just three WIP at the end of the month: Moonlight, Boy w/a Bat, and this one.

In this chapter, we have Eddie being a menace and giving Steve and Robin the fright of their lives. And because my Steddie never take anything slow, they kiss about it.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last spot on The Fallen’s American tour was Pasadena just to flip Dustin’s shit now that he was in Hawkin’s, Eddie was sure.

Eddie bought nose bleed seats because he didn’t want to throw Steve off of his playing. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass him and take the spotlight off their music.

He tucked his signature locks under a hat, removed his face piercings, and made sure all his tattoos were covered. He wore an Abbadon hoodie over his regular clothes and got into place in his seat.

He watched the whole show with great enthusiasm, banging along to his favorite songs.

Eddie was most of the way through the show when the twelve year old boy next to him clocked him for who he really is.

He put his finger up to his lips and winked. The boy nodded solemnly and he turned back to spectacle in front of them, like he hadn’t seen the frontman for the biggest metal band in the world sitting in the nose bleed seats for The Fallen.

Eddie lucked out on that one. Boys that age were of two schools of thought regarding secrets, either everyone knew or no one did. He stumbled on the latter.

Thank god!

He really didn’t want this to blow up on him before he got a chance to surprise Steve.

The concert was even more amazing than the one in Indy and Eddie’s skin was just thrumming with excitement as he paid off a member of stadium staff to send the flowers to the dressing room.

They let him wait in the wings without telling anyone who he was. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Steve to get his flowers. But he wasn’t bored. He watched the roadies and techs scramble about breaking down the set pieces.

He saw two of them carrying Astraeus’s wings and they were even cooler close up. He could that they weren’t just glittery blue, but actual galaxies and constellations.

He was about to ask if he could touch them when a woman in a stylish, black pant suit and sunglasses came storming over to him in a panic.

“Eddie Munson?” she hissed. “Come with me, now!”

Eddie grinned. “Right with you, darlin’.”

He followed her all the way to the dressing room, hands in his back pockets and a skip in his step.

****

Steve was tired. Fuck he was so tired. He scrubbed his face trying to get the sweat off.

The dressing room was heavily guarded so that he could get out his getup to shower and get the patina of being on stage off of his skin.

He would get back into Abbadon before he walked out, but he just needed to be him for a moment.

He stepped out of the shower and looked around at the gifts from fans. The management had put in the ones they thought he would want to see the most.

In the pile was the most striking blue roses he had ever seen. They were almost a midnight blue. His favorite color and his favorite flower. He walked over to them slowly as he dried himself off with the towel.

There was a simple note.

“I know your secret, sweetheart.

But don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”

Steve’s hand shook as he read the note over and over again. He made a dive for his phone, towel forgotten on the floor.

He sent off a quick text to Robin.

-Find Eddie Munson, now!

He got a message back with just one word.

-How!

He replied.

-He’s here

Steve dressed and then sat down on the sofa, settling in to wait. Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door and he put the mask up to his face while the door was open, intending to lower it again. But seeing Eddie standing there with a feral grin on his face.

He wavered, unsure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his grin never leaving his face. “Did you like the flowers?”

The woman looked back and forth between them in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Eddie turned to her. “You see, Robin, I figured out that Stevie here is the lead singer of an up and coming metal band. And that you two have been keeping secrets.”

Steve dropped the mask in shock, revealing his face. “How?”

Robin took off her sunglasses. “Who told? Who the fuck do I have to sue?”

Eddie smirked. “No one.”

“You’re trying to tell me,” she said with a scoff, “that Mr Double Super Senior figured out something that had been so closely guarded for the last couple of years?”

“Yup!”

Steve stood up and threw the mask on the sofa. He walked carefully over to the man he closely regarded as his best friend, the high heels of his costume clicking on the wood floor.

“How’d you do it, Eds?” he whispered when he got close enough. “How did you figure it out before the press, before our friends who are literal geniuses, before my own fucking parents?”

Eddie lifted up Steve’s jaw up with his fingers and then tapped on the two moles on the side of his neck. The ones Eddie always thought of as love bites.

“My moles?” Steve asked, unsure.

“I noticed them when I went to the concert with Dustin in Indy,” Eddie said softly. “That’s how I knew it was you.”

“Have you got some obsession with moles or something?” Robin sneered.

He shook his head. “Just Stevie.”

Steve gasped. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Robin repeated. “I’m still going to have to make you sign an NDA. I’m sorry. I know you won’t tell, but I have to be sure.”

Eddie nodded. “Send it to my lawyers.”

She nodded and slipped out of the door, barely opening it wide enough for her to exit. She put the glasses back on and decided she needed a drink. A big one. Maybe three.

****

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I know how exhausting shows can be and you did it in high heels.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle but did as he was told.

“I never thought that someone would figure it out,” he said shakily. “I’m so scared right now.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “Oh, Stevie. I didn’t think it would frighten you, otherwise I would have just kept my mouth shut.”

Steve looked him in the eyes. “I’m not frightened of you or that you would tell. It’s just that old adage of if you want to keep a secret between two people–”

“You kill one,” Eddie finished grimly. “I know, baby.”

After a few months of silence Steve whispered, “So you’re obsessed with me?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Yeah. Have been for years.”

“How long?” Steve asked biting his lip and playing with the sleeve of his hooded coat. He looked away not sure he really wanted the answer. Was this new, because he was in a metal band? Was it recent, with Steve not being as readily available as he was before?

“Since high school.”

Steve’s head snapped up and he looked at up at him in awe. “Holy shit, Eds, that’s forever.”

A soft, fond smile spread out over Eddie’s face, his dimples deepening to sharp lines on his cheeks.

It was Steve’s favorite smile of his. And one he was learning might just be for him and him alone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie breathed, “I know.”

They were so close, their breath mingled together, their noses brushed and Steve’s eyelashes fanned out, almost touching Eddie’s cheek.

Steve let out a gasp and Eddie closed the distance. Their lips met and Steve would swear for years to come that there were god damned fireworks. There had to be. Nothing and no one had ever felt like this. It was warm and soft and hot and sexy and bright and dark all at once. Every nerve ending lit up where just their lips touched.

And then Eddie cupped the back of his head and whatever thoughts that were in Steve’s head flew out the window. Every fear, every anxiety, every doubt went running for the hills. All he needed in this very moment was Eddie.

Until the end of time.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed when he finally managed to pull away.

Steve could only agree. “Um...can you meet me at my hotel?”

Eddie licked his lips. He wanted to take Stevie apart right then right there. But it would put Steve in danger of being discovered.

And that could not happen.

Now that he knew Steve’s secret, now that Steve was letting him in. Like all the way in, he would do anything to protect him.

“Yeah, baby,” he agreed. “I’ll meet you there. Message Celeste,” he winked, “and let her know to sneak me in.”

Steve relaxed that final increment. He kissed him fiercely. “Thanks for understanding, Eds. I love you so much.”

Eddie blushed, shoving a strand of hair into his mouth to hide his face. “Ah, sweetheart. There’s nothing to thank me for. I’d burn the world down for you if you asked.”

Steve kissed him again. “I think it’s best if I go out first and then message you when the coast is clear.”

Eddie nodded.

He was still in disguise. Only four people knew who he was. The kid, Robin and Steve, and the dude he paid to get the flowers in Steve’s dressing room.

Which Eddie would send his own team of lawyers to make sure the man didn’t so much as breathe the wrong direction.

He would then, of course meet with “Celeste” and “Abbadon” to construct the perfect cover story for Steve being on the tour with Corroded Coffin. Provided Steve said yes.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie emerged from the dressing room to see only a couple of roadies still milling around.

He blinked at one of them for a moment, but then the guy disappeared around a corner and he couldn’t be sure.

He would swear later it looked like Simon Olsen. Steve’s friend. But that couldn’t be right? Couldn’t it?

He shook himself off. He had a hotel to get to and paparazzi to dodge.

Eddie slipped into his old middle school persona. The one from before he moved in with his uncle, Wayne. The one where he could shrink in on himself.

Become... not invisible, per se. Not important enough to be worth a look at.

He removed the hoodie and handed it to fan lingering outside. He roughed up his hair, untied the shoelaces on his boots, rubbed dirt on his knees and hands.

Once his new disguise was in place, he shambled down the street and people moved right through him as if he wasn’t there.

Eddie had to fight down a grin. People were eaten up with curiosity on how he could avoid getting papped no matter where he went. And this right here was his secret. Appear homeless and no one would give a damn.

He got into position and texted ‘Celeste’ he had arrived. He took the time to smooth out his hair and stretch out his spine. Walking hunched over like that hurt as he kicked and screamed into his late twenties. Something he never thought he would reach.

He texted Jeff to let him know he wouldn’t be back to night and settled in to wait.

Soon enough he was led up through the back way and then into Steve’s hotel room.

As soon as the door closed, Steve was on him.

“Are you okay? Did anyone see you?” And then, “Why are you so dirty?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Just a little thing I learned from dear ole dad about walking about unseen. So just let me clean up a bit and I’m all yours.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded nervously.

Eddie chuckled. “Unless you wanted to join me in the shower?” he said over his shoulder.

Steve perked right up and followed Eddie into the en suite bathroom, kicking the door closed with a grin.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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joonieskinks · 9 months

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"Just Call Me Angel" - jjk

mafia!jjk x reader | s & f - 18+ readers only! | 3.4k

summary: your mafia-leading, tattooed, bad-boy lover has gone too far this time, causing you to go into hiding and try to escape that criminal underworld of his. but what happens when he finds you before you can leave for good? what if he actually wants to show his angel that he can change?

warnings: swearing, stalking, dirty talk, toxic kind of love, death, seggs, finger fcking, talk of insecurities - but happy ending!

a/n: I recommend listening to "angel of the morning" by Juice Newtown with this lol

“Didn’t I tell you that you couldn’t escape me, baby?” Jungkook’s voice declares from the pitch black darkness of the living room.

“Jungkook!- God.” You scream in surprise, he wasn’t supposed to be here. You saw his car out front leave with him in it to one of his regular “business” meetings.

So how did he get back here?

Yet at the same time, you’re somewhat relieved to know it’s only him and no one else scaring you like this. You have missed his velvety voice after all.

Damn.

“I thought you might come back around here. Thought I would welcome you home again, angel.” He says with a smirk that’s almost audible. He slowly struts his way over to you, your eyes unwavering from the make of his dark silhouette. As you meet face-to-face again, you realize he’s still just as handsome as you remember and for a brief second, you can’t quite recall why you stayed away for so long.

“You can’t call me that anymore. I’m not…” You trail off as Jungkook's movements take you off guard, head leaning down, breath that could just kiss your cheeks. His familiar scent hits you and the memories flood back in an instant, weakening your knees and nearly disarming you altogether.

“You’ll always be my angel. Even when you run away without so much as a goodbye kiss.” He whispers, sneaking a hand into your hair, trailing down to your cheek. Jungkook pauses and holds his gaze on your lips. A tender laugh leaks out of his throat, and he brings his lips to ghost over your forehead. You freeze, feeling his warm lips on your skin again.

You missed him.

You missed him so much, you could wrap your arms around his neck and have him right there on the floor without a second thought - but you can’t. You could, but you know you shouldn’t. Your lives weren’t compatible. He killed people, he was in a dark business that played with drugs, fire and gambled in human lives. You were a regular, working woman, not even close to the kind of person who could stomach this constant close proximity to death.

It wouldn’t work, not in the long run, so you left. Even though you loved him. You thought you could get away from this dangerous life, from the scary man he has become, you thought he might let you move on after six months.

But boy, were you ever wrong.

“I think I’ll have to punish you, angel. You’ve been a bad girl, leaving me all alone and only coming back to our house when you needed something from me.” He kept his lips against your head, teasing you with the ever so slight skin contact. He could feel you shiver beneath his simplest of touches. Jungkook knew then and there, that he still had absolute power over you. Just like you do over him. Still have over him.

Before you could protest, he grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and pinning you to the couch nearby. You could do nothing but screech in surprise, fall beneath him and take whatever he was about to give you. He placed one hand over your two wrists, holding them above your head. Along with his knee nestled right between your legs. At the contact, you nearly let out a moan. You knew you missed him, but didn’t realize that the tiniest of touches had this deep of an affect on you still.

“I have your passport, my love.” He pulls it from his jacket pocket to show you, before throwing it over his shoulder and away from the two of you. You can’t meet his eyes, you feel like you’ve betrayed him. You guess you have.

“Do you really want to escape me so bad?” Jungkook asks, and for a brief second, his tough exterior dissolves. He looks… hurt. You see his eyes flicker between your own, looking for some sort of comfort, reassurance. You don’t see him like this very often, his sentimental side. But you both know this will only go one of two ways, and Jungkook needs to know how you feel. He’s showing you he’s still the man you fell in love with, that deep under that tough exterior, he still had a place for you in his heart.

“Baby?” He asks, taking you from your thoughts.

“Jungkook-” You start. “I never wanted to leave you, I just couldn’t be in that life anymore.” You hesitated, waiting to see if Jungkook would let you continue.

“You killed him, I saw it.” You confess. You hadn’t told Jungkook you saw him kill Yoongi at the time. His enemy that consumed his every waking second. You had gone into Jungkook’s gang bar in Itaewon, looking for your boyfriend. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, his drive to wage war against Yoongi consumed him entirely. He would text you he would be home shortly, then disappear for days on end with nothing reassuring you he was even alive. There was only so much you could take before the utter loneliness and worry drove you mad.

That’s when you saw him, Yoongi, Jungkook’s long term rival, kneeling before your lover. He was bleeding, beat up so bad he could barely see out of his bruised up eyes. That’s when Jungkook placed the gun to his forehead. That’s when he pulled the trigger and took another man’s life in front of you.

You simply ran at the sight, the shot still ringing in your ears. You never looked back after that, too afraid to confront the truth. Jungkook watched you run from him, and in that moment, he froze. He felt shame, he knew he needed to let you process for a while, but he never gave up on trying to get you back. Jungkook let you be for the last couple months, watching closely. It was only today he realized that he could really lose you for good, and that terrified him.

“He wanted you, Y/N. Yoongi was coming after you to get to me. He wanted to hurt you and I-.” Jungkook breathed out, letting go of your pinned hands and sitting up straight. He felt his heart collapse at the thought, tears flooded his eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t know what I would have done if he had got you.” He confesses back, pouring out his heart for you.

You sit up, staring at Jungkook in shock. You had never seen him cry before. Sure, you had seen him emotional in rage, denial and revenge, where he really showed his feelings. But never sadness, out of heartbreak, and never over you.

“Please say something.” Jungkook cleared his throat, attempting to wipe the tears from his eyes. You jump to him at the sight, instantly rushing to his side. He may come with a dark past, but he is also just a man who loves you in this moment, showing you his whole heart.

You could never resist him anyway.

“Jungkook,” you hush, wiping his tears for him, holding his head in your hands. “I’m sorry I left you. I was scared. I didn’t believe my eyes and I couldn’t cope with what I saw. I ran in fear and didn’t care to understand. I was scared - scared of this life. But now I want to understand, you make me want to understand. I’m sorry for hurting you by running away, I didn’t mean to…” You confess.

You couldn’t control yourself around him, instantly abandoning your resolve the second he comes running. Perhaps that’s why you told yourself to stay away in the first place. Perhaps you should have been more careful, perhaps you wouldn’t have gotten back into his bed if you had been…

Jungkook looked up into your wet eyes and knew, he knew you meant every word you said. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he loved you for it. In this moment, you were his again and he wasn’t about to let you slip from his grasp. He’s got you back, and he’s going to keep you there if he has anything to do with it.

A gasp escaped your throat the second Jungkook sprung on top of you, pushing you back down onto the couch. He rested himself back between your legs, allowing your hips to meet. He was finally kissing you again with passion, fire, everything you missed and craved over the last six months. You moaned into his mouth and twisted your hands through his hair. He felt good, just as good as you remember. Everything was blurred, and as you kissed him back, letting his tongue meet yours, you couldn’t remember why you would ever run away from this. You were his. You knew it too.

“Angel,” Jungkook moaned into your mouth, and ever so slowly started making his way down to your throat. Your hips writhed under him, pushing up against him for more friction.

“You’re so gorgeous for me, impatient too, but just as gorgeous as I remember.” He said in between kisses, one arm wrapped around your middle pushing you closer to him and the other pushing your shirt up to display your breasts. Once they were out on display for him, he let his mouth dance along them, and took your nipples into his mouth. You moaned at the sight and his wet touch, determined to get your pants off as soon as possible.

“Jungkook, please.” You whined. Not having had him for months made you desperate. He could only laugh.

“I know, angel. But I want to take my time with you, show you how much I missed you. How much I want to keep you, show you that you should stay.” He purred, making his way back up to your mouth.

“Jungkook!-” You insisted, you could barely stand the foreplay at this point. You just really needed him inside you or it felt like you might combust.

“Baby, you’re not listening to me.” He took your chin into his hand, centering your focus on him again. “Do I have to shut you up?” He smirked, looking into your eyes which were entirely dilated. “Be a good girl and take my finger in.” Jungkook slipped his pointer into your mouth, lubricating it. You immediately wrapped your lips around it and swirled your tongue around it.

“Shit- The things you do to me, baby. Can you feel how hard you make me?” He pushed his covered length into your core, both of you sucking in air at the friction.

“Slide your skirt up for me, angel.” He demanded, and you swear you never moved faster.

“Oh. You dirty girl, Y/N.” He tsked as he realized you came all this way without wearing any underwear. Just for him. He glanced up at you, smiling. A genuine smile, and you couldn’t help but smile and giggle back.

You planned for this, just in case.

Nothing could encourage Jungkook to continue more than knowing his angel still wanted him, still planned to have him.

“What can I say,” you started. “I can’t resist you, Jeon Jungkook.” You teased.

“God. I’m going to absolutely ruin you.” He bit his lips in anticipation and brought his mouth up to kiss you once more. He let his wet finger dance against your exposed core, playing with your clit and into your slit. Your back arched at the touch you had just nearly forgotten.

“Jungkook!” You moaned, the tiniest of his touches setting you off.

If you were already like this now, what were you going to be like in 5 minutes?

“I think you’ve missed me, haven’t you, baby?” He kissed your mouth, swallowing your moans as his finger entered you. Pushing inside you, your brain shut down at the pleasure. You could do nothing but take it, Jungkook had this power over you. There was no doubt.

“Tell me.” He encouraged, as he began slowly slipping his finger in and out of you.

“Yes-“ you breathe, unable to think straight.

“Yes what, baby?” He asked as he added another finger, filling you up even more.

“Please, don’t stop-” Your heavy breaths cutting you off, trying to focus but unable to.

“Should I fuck you stupid, baby girl?” Jungkook purred, taking his tongue to your ear, letting the shivers travel down through your body.

“Yes, yes!” You exclaim, not caring about the consequences in the slightest, all you want is him. The familiarity of your lover's arms, kiss and length. Him.

Jungkook then moved quickly to take his pants off, freeing him from his restraints and that much closer to actually having him inside you once again. It felt exhilarating, and forbidden, perhaps that’s why you craved it even more.

Maybe you would feel silly about it later, however you now find yourself unable to take your eyes off of him while he strips for you. His strong stomach, tattoos that decorated his whole body, his hips, his weight that now settled on you and his large length now sliding up and down your aching hole.

“Ready, baby?” Jungkook asked, kissing your neck and sliding his length up and down to gather your wetness. “God, you’re so wet, you’re dripping all over me.” He cooed, glancing down to see the mess you’ve made all over him.

You could only focus on the feeling of him just barely entering you, only for his tip to pull out again. Your body was writhing under him, his arms locking your frame in place.

“Please, Jungkook. I need you.” You whimpered, your fingers sliding up to his back, nails ever so slightly digging into his skin. You remembered how it drove him crazy over you.

“Fuck, baby, okay.” He captured his lips with yours, finally pushing into you and bottoming out immediately. You gasped and clenched around him, squeezing him.

“Shit, don’t do that, baby girl. I’ll finish too quickly. You feel so good, just like I remember.” Jungkook kissed your cheeks, trying to distract himself from finishing inside you already.

Finally, you began to relax around his length, needing him to move inside you and take you already.

“Please- please move.” You encouraged, kissing his arms around your head that held him above you.

“Okay, baby. I got you.” He purred, dropping to his elbows to get closer to you, moving his hips in the slightest. Immediately, you reacted to his touch, preparing to take him over and over again. God, how you missed him.

Jungkook set a brutal pace, barely preparing you for his hips running into yours repeatedly. However you could do nothing but take it, just how you liked it. It felt so good to have him take control and spoil you again. He was so strong, so caring in the moment like this. This, this was the Jungkook you knew and loved. He’s always there, like this, somewhere beneath the surface - you just hoped it could stay like this forever.

You were taken from your thoughts and he plunged himself so deep into you, he made contact with your cervix and the pain mixed with the pleasure ran through your system.

“Jungkook!” You exclaimed and his eyes immediately locked onto yours, full of concern. He then slowed down slightly. “You okay?”, you quickly reassured him.

“Yes, yes! It felt so good, please keep going, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you wanted all of his pleasure and you know in the next moment, he would surely deliver.

Jungkook’s concern for you rapidly turned into a smirk and he continued with his pace. He locked his tatted arms around your head and shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist and he began pounding into you. Your head went into overdrive and could only focus on his tip hitting your G-spot over and over and over again.

“Fuck! Jungkook, oh my-” He gently raised a hand to your throat, pressing the sides ever so slightly. He still remembered exactly what you liked in the bedroom, the movements and positions that had you seeing stars. He knows you like nobody else knows you.

“You like this, don’t you baby?” Jungkook chuckles, watching your face curl up in pleasure. His length entering you over and over again, filling you up completely each and every time.

“I’m gonna cum-” you managed to let out as the unstoppable pressure started building up in your tummy.

“Me too, baby girl. Cum for me. Cum on this dick. Made just for you, only you…” Jungkook is whispering in your ear, his words taking you over the edge as he pounds into you. His length, his lips, his presence, his love - you can’t contain yourself anymore and you let yourself go, the white wave of pleasure finally releasing. “Shit, shit, you feel so good, baby”, Jungkook exclaims as he feels you clenching and finishing around his length. He can’t help but finish too, filling you and holding your body close to his as he does so.

You two come down from your highs together, wrapped up in eachothers limbs, breathing heavily. It feels oddly intimate, and the feeling of his body weight on you feels euphoric. Sometimes you think you could die like this - Just desperately wanting to be so close to him like this. He’s your love after all, even if he’s done some bad things, you can still see the person underneath the facade.

Your Jungkook.

When the high passes, you two are able to think a little more clearly. The haze finally leaves your minds, and Jungkook sits himself up on his elbows to look into your eyes. You look at him, almost concerned, you now feel nervous about what he’ll say next. Your innermost fears and doubt creeping up on you in your moment of vulnerability.

Will he leave now that maybe he’s gotten what he wanted from you? Will he threaten you? No, no surely not. He loves you, tonight has proven so… right?

“Y/N.” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts, “I can see what you’re thinking, you know?” He slightly smiles down at you, and instantly you feel more relaxed. You smile back a little too.

“I know, I wear my emotions, you always told me.”

“You do, my love.” He coos, coming to kiss your lips ever so slightly. He then hovers above you slightly -

“...Do you regret it?”

“What? No, no of course not.” You immediately refute. Your hands come up to comfort his concerned face, fingers wiping the tears that start to pour from his eyes a second time tonight.

“I thought I had lost you for good, Y/N.” His resolve breaks and he tucks himself into your neck, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you close.

“I don’t want to be without you - I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want to be a man you’re ashamed of loving.” He cries into you, tearing falling onto you wet and warm. You start to tear up as you hear him sob, the tough-guy persona falling apart as he opens up to you. This was the Jungkook you were in love with.

“I want to try and be better for you, for us. I want to be the man you need and deserve. I want us to be together, Y/N. Please, I want to change.” Jungkook kisses your neck, wet and all over. It tickles you as he reaches that one spot just beneath your ear, it leaves you giggling. He immediately whips his head to look at your expression below him. You're crying too, but smiling at him, looking at him so fondly.

“I love you, Jungkook. I do. I want to be with you, but we have to try and do better. No more of this life, we can leave together. For good, okay?” You look deep into his eyes, searching for reassurance. He smiles down at you once again, holding your hands on his face, fingers running over yours soothingly.

“Okay. Let’s leave this life behind. We’ll move, we’ll get normal, boring 9-5 jobs and a little apartment together.” Jungkook giggles, and it makes you giggle as well.

“Can we get a little dog too?” You chime in, already loving the idea of your new life together that’s being imagined up before your eyes.

“Yes, and two beds. One for sleep, one for sex.” He winks, kissing your palm. He wiggles his eyebrows, trying to win you over to the idea. You simply roll your eyes and eventually nod. You can’t resist him, especially like this.

“Fine, but you’re doing the extra laundry then.” You smirk, Jungkook smiles softly back at you.

“I will. So long as I’m with you, everything is right in the world. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

a/n: I was totally gonna make him still a bad boy at the end of this, but then I got too soft - ugh I'm a sucker for a happy ending

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pearlsinmyhair · 3 months

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⚔︎⊹ ࣪ MODERN!MIZU HEADCANONS

i had to write something for her- i was itching. headcanons are always kinda scary for me so i hope you like them

anyways: very light on x reader, with general mentions of mizu having a partner. that being said, no nsfw (for this one).

real quick! : i use she/her pronouns for mizu in this. if this is triggering for you, which i completely understand if it is, then please don’t proceed.

≈ she most definitely owns a cat. mizu is one of those pet owners whose animals reflect their personalities. her cat will tolerate some and scamper away from the rest of those who dare try to pet them. the feline avoids taigen, is chill with akemi, and pretends to hate ringo (she purrs as soon as he walks into her apartment, but she does so with a grumpy face).

≈ surprisingly, the fur baby let you scratch her under her chin when you first came over- which, believe me, mizu noted.

≈ has a butterfly knife.

≈ can do extremely elaborate tricks with it -are we surprised-

≈ one time taigen tried to copy her and it ended with him slicing a finger open and almost flinging the knife into his face.

≈ there’s a blood stain on the rug in mizu’s living room, and whenever taigen brags she’ll just silently point at it to humble his ass.

≈ also has a fish. specifically a beta fish. they’re solitary and will fight others if kept together, and i think mizu would find some kind of kinship with a little angry beta fish.

≈ no, her cat doesn’t try to eat her fish. everyone is convinced that the three beings in the mizu household can read each others minds.

≈ this idea isn’t squashed when you eventually move in, because three simply becomes four, and you all move around each other and communicate perfectly without so much as a look. it’s freaky, and taigen, akemi, and ringo will watch them in silence trying to figure it out.

≈ she wears those giant bermuda-cut jean shorts. akemi hates them, which just makes mizu love them more. she loves seeing her face scrunch up with disgust when they meet up.

≈ gym girlie gym girlie gym girly-

≈ girl’s got a snatched waist, it’s not faaaaiiiirrrr-

≈ definitely has tattoos, and everyone of them is meaningful. there’s a teeny tiny pheonix at the nape of her neck, a dagger on her ankle for swordfather, and a Hokusai wave trailing down her bicep that she gets extended every now and again.

≈ speaking of the wave tattoo, mizu has a deep seated love for the ocean. as in, she’ll never tell anyone outright, but if the group is anywhere near the beach for the day, mizu disappears. they find her via taigen (he has her location under the guise of knowing where to find her body if she gets killed), and she’s waist deep in the waves, just kinda meditating.

≈ she doesn’t get visually cold. like, cmon, sis was wandering around in the snow and sporting a little red nose. she doesn’t complain, doesn’t shiver, and her teeth don’t chatter.

≈ that is, unless you’re close to her.

≈ she’ll allow herself to be babied after putting up a fight (ahem ringo) but a bitch will melt if you fret over her.

≈ factory reset when you try to warm her hands up by cupping them in yours and breathing on them.

≈ taigen will gag if you both show pda, and mizu will threaten death.

≈ this woman has enviable fashion sense. off duty model vibes, even though she’s not trying.

≈ favors baggy clothes, and likes a more androgynous appearance.

≈ that being said, the eyeliner on her slays. just as sharp as her sword, and she’s got ariana grande skills when it comes to applying it.

≈ rbf all the way. most people think she hates them (she does, but she’ll never confirm it) because her default expression is stern.

≈ i think she’d wear rings. all kinds- she likes to twist them when she’s thinking.

≈ if she were to go to college, i feel like she’d pursue some kind of history degree or art history and specify in either japanese military history or traditional art (im projecting-)

i’m actually fighting fear to post these-

#— “should i have been counting?”#blue eye samurai #bes #blue eye samurai mizu #— mizu my beloved #mizu x reader

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ham1lton · 8 days

Note

you said u read ao3 fics! what are your f1 recs?

ahhh!!!!! this is the best question you could have ever asked me like ever i love you so much. i’ve been dying to talk abt this for a hot minute. i opened myself up to any sort of ship mostly because i cared more abt the fic quality then the ship you know? kinda glad i did it because my fav ones are not necessarily ships i am a fan of. it’s really long so i put it under a read more!!

okay so number one has to be the fic that was my first fav f1 fic. this is steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it). now this has a lot of elements that i love. guy who’s in his own head vs other guy who’s also in his own head but pretends he isn’t. also idk why but i’m always a sucker for a good medical au and this one fucking delivers!!! another maxiel fic i read was three rounds and a sound which has coffee shop owner daniel w/ stressed out student max. a lot of introspection but it’s also unfolding while the romance is. idk i just love this. it’s so good. last maxiel fic is come on, star boy which is a alt universe where daniel is the american guy he always wanted to be and max is the new transfer to his small town’s football team. it isn’t just incredibly written but everyone feels so real and vivid. i can visually see this in my mind everytime i read it. i listened to a lot of ethel cain while reading so that helped. i love this so much and the brocedes in the background?? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves youuu 🗣️

i’m not really a landoscar girl, i’m gonna be honest. however, where i am going is right where i am, is just incredible. alt universe where the drivers live on a street version of stars hollow? brocedes that influence everything even though they’re long over? charles being insane over max? pierre hating on esteban every second that is possible (i was laughing every time he would just cuss his ass out unprovoked) and annoying george being their street’s version of gilmore girls’ taylor?? what more do u need in ur life?? also oscar in this fic is just my dream man. i think a croissant from him would fix me. actually i read a lot of this author’s landoscar fics and they’re so cute i was sending kudos as much as i can. like already home! just want to bite them both and put them in my pocket. they’re so obviously in love i want to shake them down and scream and smoosh them together. lawyer!oscar i love you. check out their profile!! incredible writer :)))

i’m also not a galex truther but the two of us, in sympathy is so cute!! rich boy!george with broke junior doctor!alex. george attempting to court alex and just absolutely failing. i love it. they’re such a mess i need them in my life. also this loscar future fic is so intense but incredible. i’m really bad at describing but i binged it on my train home and i was really glad i did - i promised to forget you now.

the reason i even got into f1 aka brocedes. this fic i think was one of the first i read. on the faultline which is just amazing. i can’t recommend it enough. read it if u can. another fav is a brocedes threesome with their toxic fucking each other via proxy aka new money, and it’s all cash. cute brocedes!! nico thinks lewis is his sworn enemy but everyone knows otherwise. roseberg’s vs haminkton. this was so cute and funny. cause why was nico saying lewis, the owner of a tattoo shop was stealing business from him… when he owns a florists… he’s so dramatic i want to tuck him in my pocket. this job will take my sole has the same premise but they’re both shoe shops which makes a lot more sense. i just love stupid rivalries and dramatic nico.

now back to my sweethearts, the lights of my life, the fires of my heart - sewis. all of these fics have past brocedes just for context. every tongue should confess talks about religion and queer identity in such a nuanced and delicate way? i adored this fic. transmotion which is another alt universe with fashion designer!lewis and footballer!sebastian both figuring out their careers, themselves and their relationship. maybe together we can get somewhere - this is an mpreg fic which usually isn’t for me but it’s about seb and lewis going on a road trip for an abortion and it’s so good. honestly the ending line of ‘it’s a good feeling, to know that sebastian’s outstretched hand is right there.’ it just stuck with me. i loved it. the numbering at bethlehem which is thee sewis fic to me. professor au?? this was made for me. like perfectly moulded. everything about this is art. i could do a full essay on this fic. just read it, it’s incredible. just amazing. sebastian as the child prodigy who has nowhere else to climb?? i love them both in this fic so much!!! tnab sewis get behind me!! i’m gonna protect u!!

okay i’m sorry this is so long. i just love art. i love writing. i just love the work these authors’ have spent putting together these masterpieces for free!! check them out!! leave kudos!! comment!! <3

#im always open to new recs!!! :D #and if u read these and wanna chat abt any - my asks are always open :D #ao3 fic recs #sewis #maxiel #landoscar #brocedes #anon ask

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disillusioneddanny · 4 months

Text

People Watching (Jason/Danny)

Jason leaned back in his seat at the bookshop, his eyes no longer on his book but the couple in front of him. They were around college age, from what Jason could see. He had started watching them when blond girl started laughing at a joke until she started to cry. It hadn’t been an all that funny joke, either but it was cute the way she seemed to hang on the brunet man’s every single word. From what Jason got from their eavesdropping, they had been together for four years. Or well, forty nine months since they had decided to loudly count out the months.

She had a ring on her finger but she still called him her boyfriend. And they had talked about meeting in some class, metaphysical philosophy, the guy had supplied. Jason’s heart felt light as he listened to them, he was happy for them, he was.

It was why he was watching them, why he was listening to the guy, his name was Jeremy, apparently, as he teased Hannah, the blond, about how she acted around the holidays. His heart felt light and he felt a longing that he recognized so insanely intimately. It was the same ache that he got any time he spent time people watching.

He wanted to feel all that love and emotion for himself one day. Dreamt of the day that he would be able to be attached to the person he was holding, not just having someone warm his bed for the night. He wanted to fall without caution, to be so utterly in love with someone that he laughed at their bad jokes.

He didn’t know if that would ever actually happen for him, though. How could it when he had screwed up so many things in his life? He had died, come back, become a murderer, a crime lord and practically ruined any chance he had at a normal life. Jason had dreams once upon a time, hopes that he wanted to accomplish one day. He had wanted to go to college and fall in love like the couple in front of him had. That wasn’t in the cards, though, not for someone who was still considered legally dead.

“They’re so cute it’s disgusting,” a voice said with a snort. Jason looked up from his book to find someone taking a seat beside him on the plush couch, a coffee mug wrapped in their hands. “But yet, I still always get wistful when I see couples like that,” they said softly.

“Yeah, me too,” Jason said quietly, picking up his mug of tea.

“I’m Danny,” the man said as Jason took a moment to look over his new people watching partner. He was just a little shorter than Jason, dark black hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. Jason could just barely see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of Dnany’s shirt. But the thing that really got him, was the crystal blue eyes that seemed to shine in the low lights of the cheesy hipster coffee shop they were sitting in.

“Jason,” the vigilante said with a small smile. “So, I’m assuming you’re a people watcher too?”

Danny let out a hum. “I suppose, I mean, I’m only looking just to live through them vicariously. I’ve never really been in love, at least not seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes glued to the couple, a familiar longing in his eyes.

Jason gave him a small, tentative smile. “No I get it,” he said with a soft laugh as he looked back at the couple, the man now holding the woman’s hand in his and staring at her like she was the only person in the world. “I have a problem with cutting people out if they get too close. I end up all alone each time, but for some reason I just keep hoping that I’ll find it one day.”

Danny nodded and took a sip of his coffee before he looked over at Jason and gave him a kind smile. “It’s scary,” he admitted quietly. “To let someone get so close, to let them love you, even the bad parts of you that you try to keep hidden away.”

“It is,” Jason admitted, carefully closing his book, taking note of the page he had left it on. “It’s funny, I read so many romance novels, I love romantic comedies but to actually allow myself to feel vulnerable like that in my day to day life? It’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

At that, his new friend let out a soft laugh and nodded his head. “It’s so scary to let someone know me. It’s just so much safer to just not allow people to get close and know all of my secrets. But at the same time, it’s all just so monotone and lonely,” he said, his eyes still shining with an unspoken sadness.

Jason knew what he was going to say next was going to sound cheesy as fuck. Knew that there was a chance that Danny was going to laugh in his face. But he had to try, had to just give himself a moment to shoot his shot and see if maybe it would work. How could it not? Even if Danny didn’t know Jason’s exact problems or hangups, he still understood where Jason was coming from. Knew just as well at how terrifying it was to let someone know him.

“I know we just met, and I started this conversation in a really depressing way,” Danny started, turning to fully look at Jason. “But I actually came over here to get to know you. I saw you when I was ordering my coffee and I just, I wanted to get to know you,” he said before his face turned a bright red as he looked down at his coffee and blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m being weird.”

“No,” Jason said with a small smile. “You’re not, not at all. I’d like to keep talking to you. You get it,” he said, feeling his own cheeks heat up slightly at the admission.

“I get it,” Danny asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jason just snorted and shook his head. “What are you reading?”

“Anna Karenina,” Jason admitted, showing the cover. “It’s considered one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written.”

Danny smiled, a beautiful thing showing off dimples in his cheeks. “Tell me about it? I’ve never read it.”

A wide grin spread on Jason’s face as he launched into an in depth summary about Anna Karenina and why it was one of his favorite novels of all time.

Somehow a coffee meet cute turned into a coffee date, and then a coffee date turned into a dinner date. The dinner date led to Danny inviting Jason over for dinner and a movie. And that led to book dates and movie dates, it turned into spending more days at Danny’s house than he did at his safe houses. It led to nights in bed, the lights out and the blankets over their heads as they learned each others deepest secrets, whispering childhood stories and childhood traumas to one another in the safety of the dark.

Jason found himself falling more and more as each day passed by. He found himself holding Danny in his arms as he dreamed about a house behind a picket fence, and started building a home for himself in Danny’s embrace.

“I love you,” was whispered between the two of them late at night. Soon Jason found himself meeting Danny’s family, a sister and two best friends who were like siblings to him. And Danny found himself being dragged to the manor to meet the insane hoard of siblings and an emotionally repressed father.

Secrets were passed between them, talks about their deaths, their lives as teen heroes, the desire to just have something normal. That led to the agreement of being one another’s something normal.

It eventually led to Jason moving into Danny’s home, boxes carried between them and friends as they unpacked Jason’s things and melded their lives together.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Danny said with a laugh as he fell onto the couch beside Jason, throwing a blanket over their legs after. He smiled as he held out his hand to show off the silver band that Jason had just given him hours before.

“I can’t believe you walked up to a random stranger to talk about people watching and it led to this,” Jason murmured, nipping at Danny’s earlobe. Danny snorted and turned his head to give the vigilante a soft kiss.

“Worth it,” he murmured, cupping Jason’s face in his hands. “Completely and absolutely worth it.”

“I love you, Danny Todd,” Jason murmured, rubbing his nose against Danny’s.

“I love you too, Jason Todd,” Danny whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth away from Jason’s. “Thanks for letting me in.”

Jason just smiled. “Thanks for not cutting me out,” he murmured before closing the distance between them and kissing his husband deeply.

Come chat with me on the new DPxDC 18+ SFW Discord Server! Dm me for an invite if you're 18 or older<3

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dis writes #dis dreams #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover

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xjulixred45x · 3 months

Note

If you don't mind me can I request male reader who like Akaza from Demon slayer with the Hazbin Hotel.

Bonus: respect woman.

Hello! Normally i would Say no bc My Requests are Closed but you're lucky that i'm in a good mood to write and also i am a fan of this Man✨ 😭

Thanks for the Request ❤️

(to the other Readers, don't take this as something usual, the Requests are still Closed, i'm just in the mood to write THIS for now)

Akaza! Reader in Hazbin Hotel

Genre: headcanons

Reader: male

Warnings: Reader is a fighter, violence(?), hell, slight change in Akaza story so its not a Copy-paste and make "more sense",idk, I MAKE THIS IN A RUSH OF ✨INSPIRATION✨SO ITS NOT PROFFHEAD!!

You were born and raised in the Edo era, in Japan. and it was a nightmare.

You lived in poverty all your life, practically alone with your sick father who could barely take care of himself, but he always tried to take care of you above all else.

You spent a lot of your life trying to take care of him back, but it was difficult because of money, you couldn't afford it. so you did the only thing you could think of: steal medicine.

Obviously many times this didn't turn out well, and they ended up catching you and taking you to be beaten and tattooed like a criminal, but it was the kind of life you led until your father died.

That was when you hit rock bottom, but you met certain people who helped you move forward. a martial arts master and his sick daughter (who reminded you a lot of your father).

And it was the time when you lived better, you took care of your teacher's daughter and you learned from him, you had a good life.

you and his daughter even fell in love!

everything had fallen into place in your life...

until conflicts broke out again.

You don't remember much about your last days of life, it was a cycle of going, killing whoever got in your way, returning with whatever you wanted from your group, and whatever followed...

You just wanted to go home.

but you died before that.

and just as you expected, after everything you had done wrong in your life, you ended up in hell.

It wasn't exactly like the hell you had imagined growing up, but it was definitely difficult to adjust, knowing that you were dead, in this hole of misery, far from them...

but you didn't waste your time. You discovered quite quickly that several of your physical abilities had stayed with you, so you took advantage of them and became a quite formidable demon.

You wouldn't say you were an Overlord, but you were definitely an anomaly to Hell's QUO status, a demon who had become powerful without the need for owning souls.

something very strange.

so many Overlords, feeling threatened, tried to go after you, only to never be seen again...

As for the Hotel issue, I think that Akaza! reader would be skeptical, I don't think he would have a problem offering himself as a test subject for the hotel because 1- there is Alastor, someone very strong, and 2- he has a small hope that the hotel will work and maybe, just maybe he can redeem himself and go. to heaven with his love and his teacher, what he loves most. although he wouldn't say the last thing out loud.

Speaking of relationships, Alastor and him can actually get along in a very ambiguous way, Alastor is not happy with someone who is so strong without even having souls of their own, so he is cautious, but not in a threatening way.

Although there is something these two have in common, THEY RESPECT WOMEN.

Alastor can definitely introduce him to Akaza! read several of his female friends to be more "social" and get possible blackmail material.

Alastor secretly knows of the possible motives behind why Akaza! Reader would like the hotel to work, he thinks he is naive, but he doesn't make fun, Alastor partly understands why he feels that way. leaves him alone in that sense.

...but it bothers him in every other way! using it as an armrest, innocuous phrases, crushing it with things out of nowhere, etc. He always has something up his sleeve to piss him off.

but they can ally if women get involved ;)

Charlie is so so so so so happy to have Akaza! reader as another participant alongside Angel and Sir Pentious! She constantly thanks him for his collaboration and tells him how much it means to her.

Lots of encouragement during the trust exercises! she realizes that Akaza! Reader is not very talkative, and although he does not force him to change, he "subtly" encourages him to be more open with the exercises.

Although that does not mean that she admits the fights, she tries to encourage Akaza! reader to find another way to get out his anger and energy in less destructive ways.

I think I would be the only one who knows through Akaza! reader why he wants the hotel to work, and she is SO MOVED by him because Reader wants to redeem himself and that gives him a lot of motivation to do more exercises.

Aunaue is also sometimes a double-edged sword because she feels pressured not only by wanting to help her friends, but also by Akaza's cute motive! reader.

Akaza! reader is very protective of Charlie even if she is the princess of hell, he is like a bodyguard! or a very loyal pitbull. Charlie finds it endearing (but please don't rip that demon's head off please---)

Vaggie is scared of Akaza at first! reader for his aggressive nature.

She is afraid that he will end up directing that destructive energy towards them if he is very angry, so she is very cautious at first.

but eventually she can relax more and more with him as she realizes that (at least with women) he's not going to explode on anyone who doesn't deserve it. and that in fact he is a good man.

sparring together! Vaggie feels kind of bad that he doesn't have a gun, but is surprised at how tough he is.

If she finds out his reason behind going to the hotel, she supports him a lot in his journey of redemption, more than before, she empathizes with him.

They both have similar motives.

Vaggie really appreciates when Akaza! reader defends the female staff against Angel's out-of-place comments. she may even allow him to hit him.

You two are the main people in charge of protecting the hotel.

Let's be honest, Angel dust at first was just "flirting"/sexually harassing Akaza! reader until he beat him up and never did it again.

He thought he was simply bitter about life until he remembered that on one occasion he told him that "he was taken" and he didn't take it so personally.

After the duet with Husk, he went directly to apologize to him and they were on bad terms.

Angel occasionally likes to prank him like everyone else in the hotel, but he's considerably less annoying with Akaza! reader because he knows what he is capable of.

When he eventually finds out why he is "taken" and why someone like him is in the hotel, he can't help but empathize with him a lot (from his sister in heaven), and tries to be his "Husk" at his lowest moment. .

Even if technically Akaza!reader is stronger than him in every way, he takes care of him in his own way, watching his drink, not being robbed, etc.

Angel is definitely not used to so much respect when it comes to his gender identity, which is why he respects Akaza a lot! reader.

They generally start off on the wrong foot but manage to be friends.

Husk likes Akaza! reader, simply because it gets on Alastor's nerves and because he knows that he won't kick the ass of someone who doesn't deserve it. He knows everyone is safe with him.

He definitely knows about his reason for being in the hotel and pities him, respects his privacy a lot after that and doesn't let him talk drunk.

Husk may get to have his "loser baby" moment with Akaza! reader but in a platonic way, helping him when it is especially difficult to stay away from violence.

They can even have a father-son relationship, Husk is very similar to Akaza's teacher! reader in many ways EMOTIONALLY SPEAKING so Akaza! reader feels comfortable with him.

she definitely tells him things about her past as Overlord to entertain him.

Sir Pentious at first was TERRIFIED of Akaza!reader, his reputation was as a tough guy who went after evil people and Pentious (having his poor self-image) thought he would kill him as soon as he saw him.

but fortunately it was not like that!

but he was definitely avoiding it for DAYS before he heard from the others that Akaza!reader wasn't that bad and was actually quite nice. to give him a chance.

and Pentious did just that. and he was VERY surprised.

Akaza! reader has had to dismantle several of Sir Pentious's evil machines using his enormous strength, and although Pentious was heartbroken to see his machines destroyed, he was also VERY surprised by Akaza!reader's capabilities, even giving me more things to do. break and test their strength (imagine this pair getting to know the Rage Rooms).

Pentious Minnions occasionally go to Akaza! reader when P. is not there, which is fun to see because Akaza!reader would try to get away from the Minions that come after him like ducks.

Akaza! reader clearly notices Pentious's crush on Cherri, and encourages him to do something now that he has time.

(Can you imagine Akaza! reader's Koyuki becoming friends with Pentious in heaven? It would be Epico).

Mononeuronal pair.

Niffty is strange.

but I can definitely see Akaza! reader protecting it constantly. so Niffty likes him. But I wouldn't really say they are friends.

In general, everyone has some kind of respect for Akaza! reader. They hope you can reach your goal.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

Again, this DOES NOT MEAN that orders are open again! I'm just taking a break and deciding what things to write and what not to. thanks for the request ✨❤️

#headcanons #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #kny akaza

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