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taintedcigs · 6 months

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˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch.

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes.

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you.

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you.

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with.

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him.

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone.

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that.

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise.

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him.

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger.

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact.

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now.

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips.

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is.

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out.

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward.

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth.

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical.

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips.

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you.

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.”

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body.

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it.

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier.

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy.

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.”

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win.

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you.

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be.

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship.

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch.

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips.

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body.

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind.

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut.

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him.

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage.

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready.

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat.

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos.

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him.

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more.

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…”

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper.

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him.

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you.

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before.

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious.

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue.

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name.

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling.

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it.

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good.

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise.

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you.

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him.

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor.

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips.

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more.

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind.

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you.

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck.

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor.

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric.

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest.

Asshole.

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache.

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line.

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it.

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk.

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in.

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft.

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs.

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further.

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly.

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue. “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight.

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him.

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane.

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease.

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!”

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner.

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely.

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you.

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down.

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised.

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk.

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe.

The poor boy.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop.

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls.

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone.

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left.

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive.

#steve harrington x reader #king!steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #king!steve harrington

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wonderlandwalker · 2 months

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A Hero on Socks | Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You've always known your now boyfriend Eddie was a virgin, but with how worked up you've been while teasing him recently, you're not gonna let the first time be over that quickly

Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, mdni, virgin!eddie, established relationship, wrap it before you tap it obviously, overstimulation, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Couldn't resist my Eddie Munson fixation any longer. The title comes from a Dutch expression and it basically means someone who seems courageous but is actually a nervous little shit and it seemed perfect for Eddie. I haven't written in a little while so I hope this is still good <3 (This accidentally posted early so enjoy xx)

The two of you had been dancing on a delicate line of 'just friends' for a while now, and you're not even entirely sure what the turning point was, but eventually you crossed it, now officially being able to call Eddie Munson your boyfriend.

He made heart eyes at you every time you walked in a room, and not a single one of your friends failed to point this out when you told them you got together, none of them the slightest bit surprised.

It might be a new relationship, but you have known each other for years now, and you knew how to get what you wanted from Eddie. So yes, you knew he was still a virgin, but you failed to see how this would make a difference to you, you didn't care, people shouldn't have to worry that others will hold that against them. What you hadn't counted on, however, was how shy he actually turned whenever you started to tease him.

While you were still friends he would flirt with you unrelentingly, constantly making suggestive comments and touching you in one way or another. But maybe the fact that nothing was supposed to come of it gave him the boost he now seemed to have lost, because whenever you slipped your hand underneath his shirt when you were on the couch next to him, every moment you tried to heat up a kiss, he would go rigid, you would feel his body tense as he ceased any and all actions to create some distance between you.

You asked him what was going on, asked him if he didn't want to have sex with you, and you had never seen him swivel his head in place so fast, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at you, sputtering to tell you that wasn't the problem at all. And that's when you learned that the dungeon master of the hellfire club was in fact nervous.

And really, it was quite cute to see the blood rush to his cheeks when you took your top off, his Adams apple bobbing as you sucked on his pulse point. The boy was downright bashful.

As the days passed, you found more and more ways in which to get a rise of out him, in more ways than one. From walking into the chill living room without a bra under your t-shirt to not so subtly grinding your ass into him while standing closeby, but your plan began to backfire as you just wanted him more and more yourself, wondering how much longer your patience would hold up.

The silent curses and groans had you losing your own mind with lust as the days passed, up until the moment he had finally snapped, dragging you into his bedroom in frenzy, trying to get you on top of him as fast as he could.

All of your hard work had led to this moment right here, you could hear his panting from underneath you, his breath becoming more shallow as the muscles in his abdomen started to twitch, and if you weren't so lost in pleasure yourself, you might have teased him for how fast he was becoming undone.

It's only been a few minutes, and there's a heat creeping up on his neck, you can't resist bending over to meet his lips in a searing kiss. When you move on to mouth at the soft skin of his neck, delicately sucking hickeys into it, the sounds that leave him are nothing less than sinful.

His hands have a death grip on your hips, trying to ground himself but miserably failing every time you grind yourself further into him. You're trying to figure out what he's saying, but it's no more than mumbling in-between his moans of your name, and with how hazy your head is you don't have it in yourself to figure it out. It's only when he suddenly slams his head back against the pillow, face screwed up in a way you can see the small crease between his eyebrows as he curses wildly that you pick up on the fact he wasn't just close, no, he just came.

At any other time you would have found it adorable, you would have giggled and coed at him softly as you assured him with a sweet kiss that it's okay, but not this time. This time you've been getting yourself worked up from teasing him, from leading him up to this, from the feeling of finally, finally getting his dick inside you. So no, not this time, this time you won't let the feeling in your stomach fade away, won't stop just yet.

You feel his cum coating your walls, and the feeling only keeps you going further. It takes Eddie a few seconds to catch on in his state, heavy breath he's trying to catch and a permanent look of pleasure now etched on his face, but you know the exact moment he realizes from the small twitch his dick is already giving again.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" He sounds almost close to tears, but he looks at you with nothing but amazement in his eyes.

"You might be done Eddie, but that doesn't mean that I am" youre starting to get a little out of breath yourself, the sentence caught between small whimpers, he scrunches his eyes shut again when you tell him, and the most heavenly moan leaves his mouth as you continue to roll your hips.

You knew deep down that if he truly wanted to, he could easily get you off him, even in a euphoric state, and so you knew that he is enjoying himself just as much as you are.

His eyes snap back open as you start to go faster, chasing that warm feeling bubbling up inside you, his dick is fully hard again inside you, and you don't doubt it has turned an angry red colour by now.

"It's too much baby, I can't-" he doesn't manage to finish his thought from the guttural groan that follows him, and you can't deny it only turns you on further to see him this blissed out.

He's struggling to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you but gettig lost in the vision of it. Torn between pleasure and pain, the two merging together as you keep going. You can feel the satisfaction of it tugging at your heart as you keep moving, feeling his throbbing dick inside of you as you change the rythm. Eddie is still a mess underneath you, whimpering and groaning for anything, for everything, and it’s too fun not to tease him further.

“What do you want Eddie, tell me and I might give it to you.” You wonder if it even matters what you’re saying, sure that at this point he’s far beyond reach, but he doesnt dare leave you unanswered.

“You’re so warm baby fuck, just please, please”

You lean into him again, leaving a trail of kisses down the spot on his neck you know make him go weak. “Please what, finish your sentences honey, or I’ll stop right now” The both of you know it’s an empty threat, you’re too close yourself to even dare abandon your goal, but the mere thought of it is enough to make Eddie give you anything you’d want, youre decently sure you could ask for the moon right now and he would go out to catch it for you.

“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad holy shit” He can feel you tightening around him as he asks, another pornographic moan leaving him, and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t basking in the fact you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

“Alright baby, because you asked so nicely, go ahead, cum for me.” you whisper the response in his ear, and it takes him mere seconds to find your lips, hiding away in the sweet escape of your tongue against his. For the second time you can feel his cock pulsing his cum inside of you, desperate for the realease. And it’s that feeling exactly, the feeling of his pleasure, that tips you over the edge yourself. The ecstasy taking over your mind, helplessly keeping rocking against him as you slump over, moaning his name as you cum. He catches you in his arms, already tracing patterns in your skin as you’re still riding out your orgasm.

It takes you a few minutes to fully come back to earth, stars twinkling in your vision. You can feel Eddie’s steady breathing underneath you, his heart still thumping rapidly as you listen for his regular pattern of breaths, mimicking it in order to catch your own.

“You alright?” His soft voice soothes you, always so gentle, even if most can’t see it. It makes you chuckle this time around, amused at the irony.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” He mirrors your expression now, a grin breaking out across his face.

“Never been better sweetheart” He accompanies his words with sloppy kisses all over your face, smacking his lips against you in a manner that has you giggling against him.

“Was worried it was too much is all” You look down when you tell him, and he cups your jaw, silently asking you to face him again

“There isn’t a world out there where there could be too much of you.” He kisses you slowly this time, not rushed, not chasing anything, simply enjoying the moment as it is.

You lift yourself up slightly, feeling him leave from inside of you, and when he does you already miss the feeling again. You feel his seed dripping out of you, revelling in how he filled you up until you were so, so full. He’s watching, and you can feel his dick make a small twitch at the sight as he’s holding his breath, completely fixated on it.

“Fucking hell-” he still can’t seem to tear his gaze away, and you’re not immune to the effect itself.

“Give me a few minutes and we can go for another round” You’re laughing at his antics now, his nerves seeming to have fully disappeared and the Eddie you know so well has made it back to you.

He coaxes you to the side to lay down next to him as he slides his arms around you, your leg tangling over his as you snuggle up beside him. Your limbs feel like jelly as he holds you, his fingers still delicately moving across your skin as you can hear his heartbeat evening out from where you're lying down on his chest. This was Eddie, your Eddie, a guy who put on a big show for everyone, but when he was with you got to see his true self, and it only made you love him more.

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 29 days

Text

Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who insisted on waiting for you in the corner of the room while you did the table reading, rather than go wait in the car or around the lot like the rest of the cast’s personal security did.

Bodyguard!Miguel whose eyes never left your presence, it took you a minute to shake off the feeling, you always felt his eyes burning holes into your back when you were doing something and he couldn’t be right next to you. But after a while, you finally got yourself into the groove of the script material.

Bodyguard!Miguel who-despite mentally checking out ten pages into the script-was still able to pick some stuff up. It was a romance, he wasn’t surprised, since romcoms tend to sky rocket careers these days.

It was a period piece. Your character, who was named Anastasia, was a princess who was coming near the time where she had to be married off to someone else at a neighboring kingdom to be crowned as their queen, the problem is, that your character’s heart already belongs elsewhere, in the hands of one of the royal guards who worked in the castle.

That was all Miguel had really picked up.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finally tones back in when the reading was finished, hearing the head director tell everyone about how they’ll be receiving their schedules through their managers, before dismissing everyone (not before having everyone sign his copy of the script so that the marketing team can post it to social media later).

Bodyguard!Miguel who was about to make his way towards you so he could escort you home, but stopped when he saw your coworker who plays the love interest , Peter B. Parker come up to you to properly introduce himself.

—

“Why hello Anastasia.” Peter said as he came up to you with the friendliest smile you’ve ever seen, to which you quickly returned, both of you shaking hands with your free hands as the other held your respective scripts.

“Sir Tristan.” You giggled, calling him by his character name, before pulling your hand out from his. “I’m excited to work with you, I hope you feel the same.”

“Of course I am! Always ready to act with new and fresh faces-“ his phone starts to ring in his pocket, cutting him off, taking out to read the screen before looking back up at you. “I gotta take this, but I’ll keep in touch, I’ll have my manager send you my number in case you ever want tips, or to run lines over.” He told you, tucking his script under his armpit, giving you a quick wave before slipping out of the (now mostly empty) room, answering as he left.

You finally turned and headed to Miguel, who was now waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. Neither of you spoke until you were in the parking lot, that’s when Miguel finally broke the silence.

“So… Parker huh?” It was obvious Miguel had to be a bit familiar with Peter’s work, who wouldn’t be though. He was a big star at the moment, having just come off from the Spider-Man films. Still, you weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you nodded and let out a small “mhm” anyways.

—

Part 1<

Part 3<

Not proofread.

Word count:500

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz @enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 (if you want to be added click here, it’s easier for me then asking in the comments☺️)

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months

Text

Nobody Needs to Know

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Request: eddie x henderson fem!reader having sex and dustin catches them 🫣

No worries. Dustin doesn't see anything. I could never traumatize that sweet kid like that. He just surmises what happened after the fact. I took a little liberty with the story since this was all I had to go on. 😉

18+ ONLY

Your fingers wrapped around the folded piece of paper that had been slipped into your locker, a tight lipped smile crossing your face, knowing exactly who had slipped it in there. You unfolded the lined notebook paper, reading the handwriting that had become so familiar these past months.

Meet me in the janitor’s closet

Eyes darting around you to make sure no one else noticed, you slammed your locker shut, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your feet hurried, heart pounding, your body eager to get there even as your head was telling you this was stupid. You were going to get caught. You couldn’t keep sneaking around with him like this, but fuck if it didn’t make it that much hotter.

You glanced around once again to make sure no one was around and pushed the door of the closet open. It was pitch black but you were hesitant to turn on a light, not wanting the beam to shine under the door and give away that someone was in here. You paused, holding your breath, wondering if you’d made a mistake when a hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist. In one swift motion, your other wrist was grabbed, hands pinned above you, your back pressed against the door.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in that little skirt, princess,” a low voice rumbled in your ear and you pressed your thighs together as desire pulsed through your center. “Sitting there in math class, tapping that pencil, crossing your legs…all that skin…”

“That sounds like your problem,” you managed, attempting to sound more in control than you felt at that moment. “Maybe you need to work on your self control, Eddie. Don’t you have enough girly mags at home to help care for your poor little male urges.”

“Oh, we’re mouthy today, huh? Let’s shut you up, shall we?”

His mouth collided with yours, a mashing of tongue, lips, and teeth as he circled your wrists with the fingers of one hand. The other was sliding up your skirt, along the skin of your inner thigh. You moaned, pressing toward him and he chuckled.

“Not so mouthy when it’s your urges that need taking care of, are you?”

“For the love of Christ, shut up. All you do is…” you muttered but were quickly cut off by the whimper that fell from your lips as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the side of your panties, running teasingly along your slit.

You and Eddie had been sneaking around for two months, meeting in his van, the drama room, the janitor’s closet, the spot in the woods where he always met people to make his sales. It started as a drunken mistake and spiraled from there because no matter how much you told yourself that this was bad idea, that you needed to stop, your body fucking craved him. He was a drug and you were hopelessly addicted.

Two of his fingers pressed into you and you bit your bottom lip hard to keep from announcing to the whole school that you were getting finger fucked by Eddie Munson. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were in the band. You were top in your class. You had big plans to go to law school after graduation, having gotten into one of the top colleges in the country. Eddie was a horrible distraction you didn’t need but damn it, you wanted it. Not to mention he was your brother, Dustin’s, best friend and that was just awkward as hell. Dustin would never shut up about it if he knew what was going on.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No insults to throw my way,” Eddie teased, curling his fingers, making your legs shake. “No. You can put me down all you want, princess, but at the end of the day, you keep coming back because you want this. You love all the dirty little things I do to your body.” His tongue painted a line along the side of your neck, his thumb making circles around your clit. “You want my fingers pressed inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths.

“You want my mouth all over your skin…”

“I do…” you whispered, your head falling to the side as he licked and nipped at the flesh on your neck and collarbone.

“Yeah, you do…” His fingers left you and in the pitch black, you heard the sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. You heard the familiar crinkle of the condom wrapper and something deep within you coiled tightly in anticipation. Eddie hooked under your knee with his arm, opening you fully to him. “And you fucking love when my cock is buried deep within this pussy. Come on, princess. Use that mouth to tell me how badly you want this.”

Your breath caught, body wound like a goddamn rubber band, just ready to snap. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him to take you hard and fast in this closet and he knew it. Eddie had caught on pretty quickly that you wanted this just as badly as he did.

“I mean…if you don’t want it…” he said slowly, his arm slipping out from under your leg.

“Fuck…I hate you,” you growled.

“You might hate me but you don’t hate the things I do to you.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, picturing that little crooked smile.

He had no idea how right he was, how many times you’d laid in your bed imagining it was him touching you. He had no idea how often you snuck glances at him throughout the day, drumming his pencils and doodling in class, his loud antics in lunch, the way he sauntered through the hallway, all that wild hair billowing behind him. Eddie Munson had consumed you in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“Fine, you want me to say it?” you relented. “I want your cock, Eddie. I fucking love your cock and I want you to fuck me right up against this door until I can’t walk straight.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

He held your leg and slammed into you forcefully, rattling the bottles on the shelves. You let out a cry of pleasure before remembering you were in school. Eddie’s free hand clamped over your mouth as he sent your body smashing against the wood of the door again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?” Eddie demanded and all you could do with his hand over your mouth was nod. “Yeah. You put on a show for everyone else, the sweet good girl who never breaks the rules but you only let me see the real you, don’t you? The dirty, feral little beast inside that wants to break loose.”

You’d been with guys before but none of them had ever been like Eddie. They went through the motions, fumbling with your bra, fingers prodding you but never finding the right spots. Eddie found the right spots every damn time. You worked so hard to be what your parents expected, what your teachers expected, what this whole damn down expected. The only time you really felt like you could let go, like you could stop trying so hard, was when you were with him. He brought out a side of you that you hadn’t even known existed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he lifted your leg higher, allowing him to go deeper. He slowed the pace, keeping you on the edge but not quite letting you tumble off just yet. Your leg shook beneath you and you gripped Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling to the floor.

“Come on princess…it’s just me and you in here. You don’t have to pretend with me. Let that freak flag fly, baby. Just let go for me,” Eddie urged. “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

A scream clawed its way from your throat, the only thing stopping it from ringing through the hall of Hawkins was Eddie’s hand muffling the sound. Your nails dug into his flesh as your orgasm ripped through you, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your head to your toes that had your whole body humming, vibrating with ecstasy and relief.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, never ceasing his thrusting, his hand leaving your mouth to grip your other hip, helping you stay upright as he followed, fingertips leaving marks on your skin. “Fuck…”

Eddie slid from inside you and you heard the thunk of the condom as he tossed it in the trash can. You moved to reach for your panties but he was already there, pulling them up your legs. His hands came to either side of your head, caging you in.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “You got what you wanted.”

“Nah, not everything,” Eddie replied and his lips were on your skin again. But this was different. It wasn’t urgent and demanding. It was soft and affectionate, completely throwing you off balance.

“Seriously…” you said softly, a nervous laugh bubbling up within you. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“Go out with me,” he repeated. “Look, I know all this cloak and dagger shit has been fun, but I want more. I want to take you out for a damn burger. I want to see a movie with you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and leave you notes in your locker that aren’t just meetup time for secret sex. I mean, I still want to do that too but I want more than just this…what do you think?”

“I…Eddie…” you began, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening.

“Just forget it,” he huffed, pushing off the door and away from you. “I get it. It’s fun to have the freak as your dirty little secret but you don’t actually want anyone to know you’d sink that low, right?”

“No. That’s not what I…”

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Of course the perfect little straight As princess doesn’t want to get dirty dating the drug dealing loser.”

He wrenched open the door, almost knocking you over in the process. You darted after him but you both stopped at the sight of Dustin Henderson. He was leaning against the wall, a shit eating grin on his face as he took in the sight of the two of you, hair probably a mess, coming out of the janitor’s closet together.

“Holy shit! I knew it!” he yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I mean, I didn’t but I knew something was going on! You two have been so weird lately! Wait! Were you two…oh gross!”

“Shut it Henderson!” Eddie growled, shoving past him.

“Eddie…” you began but he was flying down the hall, moving as quickly away from you as he could.

“Oh damn…did I interrupt a lover’s quarrel or something?” asked Dustin.

“Or something…” you muttered, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the closet and trudging off to History, needing to get away from your nosy ass brother before he could give you the third degree. It felt appropriate because that was what you and Eddie appeared to be now, history.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #smut requests #request

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ferrstappen · 1 year

Note

accidentally referencing them as "my" with max please!

what are we doing here? - MV1

The only clear thing between you and Max is that neither of you knew what you were.

Friends? Very close friends? Situationship? Love each other but afraid to make a move?

So many ways to describe it, but still moving between blurred lines, where you snuck out of his hotel room before someone came knocking on the door to wake him up or brief him as he got ready to leave, going out with your friends to a bar where you'd start acting as close friends, but as alcohol started burning your throats and clouding your judgement, his arm found home around your shoulders and your head nuzzled on his neck, loving how he shivered and smiled whenever your lips curled up at something you said or left a quick kiss on his neck.

Everybody knew there was something going on, and no, your friends knew it wasn't just kissing and sneaking around, it was deeper, something that neither you nor Max were willing to accept and act on it.

Months went by and it didn't change. You were exclusive, the thought of looking at someone else didn't cross your mind, but the mere idea of Max sharing time and space with beautiful women from all around the world, it was mind boggling for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Max felt the same rush of blood to his head whenever someone in the paddock started a conversation with you, standing a little too close for his liking, knowing his male equals enough to be sure they wanted to have you to themselves, and he couldn't do anything to stop that.

Well, he could do one thing, but for him it wasn't even a possibility, not wanting to leave the small paradise you had created, with no problems, no labels, no feelings... he'd be damned if he vocalized that it was a problem not having you to himself every day with no excuse, just calling you by your name like he was any other man in your life, and if he expressed his feelings were beyond a simple friendship, he wanted it all.

And so did you, you wanted to walk hand in hand with Max and it being familiar, not getting surprised looks. you wanted for him to claim you just like he had claimed your heart and body. you craved for him to look for you after a race, holding his helmet and symbolically kissing his lips in front of every camera, every screen who was watching.

All those thoughts were wandering as the both of you were talking before the race, with his fireproofs hanging low on his waist and you trying to fix a loose strand of hair, not caring that it was futile since he'd be putting on his helmet in no time.

Then, a woman you had barely crossed paths with came along, giving Max a tight hug and wishing him good luck, telling him to not go too crazy on the track for the sake of her husband.

Huh.

"Oh, i have seen you so many times before and we haven't been introduced! Max what are you waiting for?" Geri Halliwell, beautiful and elegant as ever, asked Max who was caught off guard.

The words left Max's lips without a second thought, a worry, and it felt so natural: "This is (Y/N), she's my girl,"

My girl.

He didn't even flinch, placing his hand on your waist as Geri kept commenting you were such a good looking couple, complemented each other so well, that you must be so proud, and you really were, everyone could see it.

"I'll leave you both, but I'll find you sweetheart on the garage when the race starts and the boys go do their thing, okay?" Geri said to you, leaving you a bit dumbfounded but agreeing to what she said, leaving you and Max.

His hand didn't leave you waist, it only changed its position as you turned to face him.

"I'm your girl?" Your head tilted a bit, trying to read his expression.

His cheeks flushed and he was insecure for the first time, his blue eyes avoiding yours, but lovingly accepting when your hand found its place on his cheek. "I like it, how it sounds,"

In the middle of loud noises, screens full of statistics and people calling for Max, you took his hand in yours and left a chaste kiss on his lips before sending him off to get ready and get in the car.

For the first time, Max wanted the race to be over as soon as possible, adrenaline rushing but not because of the vibrations of the car and crowds cheering, but because of what was waiting for him after the finish line.

his girl.

#max verstappen blurb #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #max verstappen au #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #formula 1 fic #max verstappen x you

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ohmyamor · 1 year

Text

he’s kinda hot | K.HJ

Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x reader

Summary: After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have a demon who refuses to leave you alone.

w.c. 4.6k

Warnings: fluff, slight angst if you squint, minor character death he’s a dick don’t worry, mentions of blood and icky sounds but nothing is seen directly, suggestive content, cursing, desire hongjoong lives in my mind rent free

There’s something wrong with your boyfriend.

You first began to notice his odd behavior a little over a month ago, but for the past week, it’s gotten progressively worse.

What started off as slight jumpiness and anxiety has now turned into full fledged paranoia, to the point where he refuses to ever leave the house, having breakdowns over this ‘person’ who’s after him.

“What do mean you can’t go with me?” You sighed exasperatedly, crossing your arms and staring at the sad excuse of a man standing in front of you.

A few months ago, you might’ve cared about how tired and worn-down he looked, but now? At this point in your relationship?

You really couldn’t care less.

“Are you crazy?” Your boyfriend all but shouts at you.

You feel your jaw clench at his tone.

“Do you know what’ll happen if I go out there?” he continues shouting like a madman. “He’s going to get me! They’re all going to get me! It’s not safe for me out there!”

There’s a crazed look in his eyes and you feel a slight chill run up your spine.

You don’t think you want to stick around any longer to find out what his tipping point is going to be.

“Okay, then stay,” you spit, marching over to the couch to grab your wallet and keys. “Stay here and rot for all I care because you have been nothing but a paranoid piece of shit lately and you refuse to get help.”

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for this episode or whatever you want to call it,” you wave your hands around, “to end, because I have a life and I am not going to sit around waiting for you to get it together.”

“So this relationship ends here,” you glare at him.

“Good luck getting by without anybody who cares about you,” you let the words hang in the air as you walk to the front door and exit the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

Huffing, you shove your wallet and keys into your pocket and begin the trek to the grocery store.

After spending a few hours running errands and killing time, you’ve calmed down significantly.

You had called your close friend Seonghwa on the way to the market, telling him what had happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend.

“He sounds crazy,” Seonghwa had said over the phone.

“I know Hwa, which is why I decided to end it because I refuse to stay in another relationship where the other person expects me to solve all of their problems,” you groaned.

He hummed over the line.

“Plus,” you continue. “There was this look, in his eyes and on his face, like he genuinely believed there was something out to get him.”

Seonghwa is quiet.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It just gave me a really bad feeling and you know how I feel about gut instincts. I’d rather trust myself and be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah of course. Honestly honey, I think you did the right thing. I never liked him from the beginning, but you were happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, but I agree, if you have a bad feeling about something, you should always trust your intuition,” Seonghwa reassures you.

You let out a small laugh.

“And don’t worry,” he continues, “You’re an amazing person and a great catch, so it’ll be no time before you have someone else falling at your feet.”

You roll your eyes.

Even if he can’t see you, Seonghwa’s known you for long enough to anticipate your habits.

“Thank you Hwa,” you smile into the phone.

“Anytime.”

The two of you chatted on for a little bit more after that, with Seonghwa letting you know he always had an extra room in case you needed to crash at his place for a while.

You thanked him once again but refused his offer. After all, the lease on the apartment was under your name, and you paid most of the bills, so if anyone was going to be leaving, it’s going to be your ex.

The conversation was definitely much-needed, and after the reassurance that you weren’t crazy for ending your relationship, you felt much more confident to head back to your apartment and kick out the man living there.

Once you finally made it back to your building, you exited the elevator and walked down the corridor to your apartment door. Taking deep breaths, you began to steel your nerves in order to prepare for whatever breakdown the male might have.

As you approached your door, you noticed that it looked slightly open.

You pause in your footsteps, narrowing your eyes to see if the door was truly open or if it’s just a trick of your eyes.

Dread begins to build in your stomach when you realize that your door is, in fact, open.

It’s fine, you attempt to reassure yourself in your mind. Maybe he finally got the hint and left.

Cautiously, you approach the door and push it open with your foot.

Stepping inside, you notice how eerily quiet it is.

Normally when you come back from work or running errands, your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself, is doing something to keep himself busy in his self-appointed quarantine. Whether it’s playing a video game or watching T.V., there’s always some kind of noise echoing throughout your small apartment.

But now, there’s nothing.

It’s also incredibly dark.

Dropping the grocery bags onto the floor softly, you reach into your pocket to pull out your keys. You move to the turn on the light switch that’s on the wall, but freeze when you hear whimpering coming from somewhere in the room.

You opt to not turn on the light, unsure of where the noise is coming from and also slightly terrified of what’s going on.

You keep one hand on your phone, ready in case you need to call the police.

Quietly and ever so slowly, you make your way to the bedroom where the whimpering noise is coming from.

The door to your room is slightly ajar, allowing a few rays of light to peek through. On the carpet in the hallway is a dark trail of something.

You swallow thickly, hoping it’s not what you think it is.

You stop in front of the bedroom door and strain your ears to listen to the noises coming from the room. With your heart pounding loudly in your chest, you come to the realization that the whimpers are coming from your ex-boyfriend.

“Now, now, now,” a voice that is certainly not your boyfriend’s rings out.

“Crying isn’t going to get you anything,” the voice chuckles. “You knew what the price of the deal was, and yet, you still tried to double-cross me.”

There’s more muffled crying.

“Silly human,” the voice says sinisterly.

“Didn’t anybody ever warn you to not make deals with the devil?”

The sound of flesh being torn reaches your ears along with pained crying, and you feel sick to your stomach when a metallic smell reaches your nose.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from gagging. You have no clue what you should even do at this point. Whatever’s in there with your ex is either an incredibly deranged human being, or something not even human.

You don’t want to find out which one it is.

After what feels like forever, the muffled crying stops, and your stomach sinks when you come to realization that your ex might now be dead.

The person inside the room sighs.

“Open the door sweetheart.”

Your blood runs cold.

Raising a trembling hand, you move to push the door open, bracing yourself for whatever gruesome sight awaits you and whatever monster you’ll see standing in your room.

Except, you see neither.

There is no body in your room, nor is there any blood or gruesome mess.

There’s also certainly no monster.

Instead, a man sits on a single chair in the middle of the room.

He has bright red hair and a slightly pointed nose. Jewelry adorns his ears and hands, and he wears a pair of dark dress pants with a white shirt that’s tucked in. His sleeves are rolled up on his arms.

If it weren’t for the small splatters of a red substance on his otherwise pristine shirt, you might’ve thought that what you heard before never happened.

Your eyes drag over his figure before coming to rest on his face. The two of you make eye contact and a shiver runs down your spine at the wicked smile he sends you.

“Did you enjoy our little show?”

You say nothing.

The man sighs and places his hands on his thighs, pushing himself up off the chair. He takes a few steps forward until he stands less than a foot away from you.

I’m going to die, you think.

I’m going to die a horrible and gruesome death and no one will ever know and i’ll never see my friends again and i’ll never say goodbye to my parents and-

The man chuckles.

“You’re not going to die.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man reaches his hand out to gently grab yours. He bows slightly, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand while maintaining eye contact.

“My name is Hongjoong and I’m the demon who just took care of your pesky little boyfriend problem.”

Was laughing out loud to the man’s, demon’s?, introduction the best choice?

Probably not.

But you cannot be blamed for your habit of laughing in awkward situations.

After all, here is this man, who just admitted to killing your ex-boyfriend, introducing himself to you as a demon and also kissing the back of your hand like the two of you were in the 1700′s.

What sane person would have a normal reaction to that?

As soon as the sound made its way out of your body, your free hand immediately slapped itself over your mouth and your eyes widened in horror.

If the demon didn’t have any plans on killing you at first, he’s definitely going to now.

The man doesn’t say anything, simply raising a brow as a small smile takes over his face.

“I’m glad you found my introduction so amusing sweetheart, but I can assure you, this is certainly real.”

As he said that, you watched in slight horror as his eyes faded from a soft brown color to dark pools of black. Swallowing, you attempt to tug your hand out of the demon’s grasp to try and back away, but his grip only tightens.

He clicks his tongue and within a fraction of a second, his eyes have returned to brown.

“Why are you here?” You finally muster up the courage to speak. Despite your attempts to sound even the slightest bit brave, the waver to your voice was obvious.

Hongjoong sighs, annoyed.

“That sorry excuse of a man you called your boyfriend was in my debt. I made it clear to him when he made a deal with me what the price would be, and he still attempted to evade me.” He rolled his eyes and for a split second, the demon reminded you of a parent whose child wouldn’t listen.

“What deal did he make?” You question, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The demon looks back at you.

“Nothing that concerns your pretty little self,” he winks.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his actions.

“Considering you just killed him, I think it’s safe to assume it was a pretty important deal,” you challenge.

A grin creeps onto Hongjoong’s face.

“So you have the looks and the brains to accompany it,” his smile widens.

You try to fight back the heat that was rising to your cheeks.

Yeah, maybe he’s a demon who killed your ex-boyfriend, but he’s also an incredibly attractive demon who just called you smart and beautiful. Who are you to deny his compliments?

“But,” Hongjoong continues. “If you must know, he wanted to become wealthy and successful.” He takes a glance at your reaction. “And he wanted lots of women.”

You can’t hide the disgusted look that makes its way onto your face.

“That piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath.

After everything you did for him, he still had the audacity to go behind your back, make a deal with a demon, and wish for wealth and women?

I really know how to pick ‘em, you think bitterly.

Hongjoong continues, noticing the look on your face.

“But no need to worry, sweetheart. I’ve taken care of your little problem, and I do think you come out of this fiasco the winner.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you stare at him in confusion.

Hongjoong leans in close, close enough where you can feel his breath on your face and his lips are mere inches from yours. His eyes have slowly begun to bleed black and another wicked smile makes its way onto his face.

“Now, you have me.”

It seems as though demons share the unfortunate similarity to human males where they seem to be extra sensitive in between their legs.

Unfortunately for Hongjoong, you had taken advantage of his proximity to knee him where the sun doesn’t shine. While he doubled over in pain, you take the opportunity to run out of your bedroom and head straight for the front door.

I just need to get out, I need to call someone, I need to call Seonghwa-

Right as your fingers brush against the door handle, a hand grabbed at your wrist and yanked you back.

Grunting, you land harshly on the floor, the breath being knocked out of you. A weight over your body makes you wince. Opening your eyes, you watch as Hongjoong straddles your waist, his hands coming down to rest near your head.

He clicked his tongue.

“Nice try cutie, but you can’t get away from me that easily.”

Struggling, you attempt to shove him off of you, but despite his slightly smaller stature, the stupid demon won’t budge.

“I didn’t make a deal with you!” You cry out, punching his chest. “You got what you wanted, so leave me alone!”

Hongjoong lets out a chuckle.

“I don’t think you get it sweetheart. I want you.”

“Why?” You pant, your adrenaline slowly fading and confusion taking over.

Hongjoong shrugs.

“You intrigue me.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.

“See, this is what I mean,” he gestures down at your body that is still laying on the floor. “When I was dealing with your boyfriend, you heard what was going on and instead of leaving, you stayed behind the door.”

He knew I was there the entire time?

“When I introduced myself, you laughed, and even after our entire conversation, you still had the gall to hurt me to try and run away.” He stares into your eyes so deeply that you can’t help but squirm slightly.

“It’s called a fight or flight response.”

Hongjoong giggles, and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently pinned down beneath the demon, you honestly might find it kind of cute.

Sighing, you let your hands fall to the floor next to you. Hongjoong looks at you slightly amused.

“So what, you’re gonna stick around and when you eventually get bored, you’re gonna kill me and take me soul?”

He tilts his head to the side.

“I can if you want me to.”

With wide eyes, you shake your head no.

“That’s what I figured,” Hongjoong chuckles. “No, you haven’t made a deal with me, so I won’t take your soul. You’re just stuck with me now.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“Great,” you sigh.

In Hongjoong’s defense, having him around isn’t that bad.

For the most part, he sticks to himself, observing you as you go about your day.

“That’s really creepy,” you mentioned offhandedly one day.

“What is?” Hongjoong questioned.

“This whole, standing and staring thing you have going on,” you waved your hand around.

“Would you prefer me to be up close and personal with you?” In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong is standing directly against you.

Taking a step back, you raise your hands in front of you.

“No, I’m fine, you can continue with your staring.”

On occasion, he can be pretty helpful, too.

You slam the door to your apartment open, stomping inside and throwing your bag on the floor. You throw yourself face-first onto the couch and let out a muffled scream.

From where he sits at the dining table watching Netflix on your computer, Hongjoong stares at you, amused.

“Is everything okay sweetheart?”

“No,” comes your muffled reply.

If Hongjoong didn’t have incredibly sharp hearing, he would have a hard time understanding you.

“Stupid Eric from work thinks he can just treat all the women like pieces of meat and get away with it because he’s the boss’s son,” you spit.

You miss the way Hongjoong’s face darkens.

“Did he do something to you?” He questions.

You’re silent for a moment, debating if you want to say it out loud.

“It’s just,” you trail off, unsure how to say it.

Hongjoong hums, letting you know that he’s listening.

“He’s always made comments to all the women in my department, and those are easy to ignore, but today he got really close to me when we were in the break room.”

You can feel your body tense up as you relive the moment.

“Honestly, I thought he was going to try and do something, but luckily, one of our coworkers walked in before he could do anything,” you admit.

It’s silent for a few seconds.

“I’ll be back,” are the only words that come out of Hongjoong’s mouth.

You sit up abruptly from the couch.

“Huh?”

Before you can even finish speaking, Hongjoong is gone.

“So much for moral support,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch.

It’s not until late that the demon returns.

You’re sitting on your bed with a face mask on, scrolling through work emails when Hongjoong appears suddenly at the foot of your bed.

You jump slightly, only calming down when you realize who it is.

“Fuck dude, you can’t keep doing that,” you chastise him, trying to calm your racing heart.

Hongjoong says nothing, staring at you.

It’s only then you notice the way his eyes are completely black and he’s breathing abnormally hard.

A shiver crawls up your spine.

“Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly.

Still, Hongjoong remains quiet for a moment before rolling his shoulders back, a deep exhale escaping him.

“You don’t need to worry about that Eric anymore,” is all he says before walking out of your room.

Although you’re slightly horrified at the implications of his words, you also can’t deny the fuzzy feeling in your chest over his actions.

The most annoying part about having him around, though, is the teasing.

Hongjoong seems to have made it his mission to fluster you.

Constantly.

You had just stepping out of the bath, a satisfied sigh escaping you as you wrapped a fuzzy towel around your body.

After a long week, the long, warm bath was incredibly needed.

Softly combing through your hair, you hum slightly as you go through your nighttime skincare routine, being extra thorough and gentle.

Once you finish, you open the door to your bathroom and step out into your room, only to gasp when you see Hongjoong laying on your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You exclaim as one of your hands reaches up to tightly grab the towel that’s wrapped around your body.

Hongjoong glances over at you, drinking in the sight of your damp body.

“Enjoying the view,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, walking over to the bedroom door and opening it.

“Get out.”

The demon pouts as he sits up on your bed.

“C’mon, don’t you think I’ve been good lately?” He stands up slowly and begins making his way over to you.

Hongjoong gets closer, a small smirk making its way onto his face.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

You stand completely still against the wall, gulping harshly. There’s a heat that builds in your lower stomach as you stare into his hooded eyes.

One of Hongjoong’s hands creeps up to gently toy with the edge of the towel that lays against your chest.

“If you ever feel so kind,” Hongjoong leans in to whisper against your ear. “You know where to find me.”

He leans away from you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Wordlessly, he walks out of your bedroom and shuts the door.

You quickly place the lock on it before sitting down on your bed. Placing a hand over your chest, you feel it beat harshly against your chest.

What the fuck was that?

Today is a particularly bad day.

From running late in the morning, missing your normal bus to work, and being reprimanded for a mistake you didn’t even do, you think your last straw is when it starts pouring on your way home.

Of course, the weatherman certainly did not predict this today, so you were left umbrella-less and with only a thin blazer to shield yourself from the elements.

And, with your incredible luck, a call from your mother nagging about why you haven’t visited in a few months and how you need to start thinking about a more serious career really seemed to tip you over the edge.

You don’t even make it all the way home, instead opting to go to the nearby park to sit and be alone for a little while.

The rain hasn’t stopped, but it no longer bothers you. In fact, you welcome the harsh sting of water against your skin. It’s the only feeling you seem to be able to comprehend at this moment.

You sit on the swing and stare numbly at your feet. There are tears making their way down your cheeks, but you cannot distinguish them from the rain.

You’re not sure how long you sit there alone.

Only the sudden lack of water pelting down on you causes you to look up.

Standing next to you in casual clothes is Hongjoong. He holds an umbrella over you, the rain beginning to soak his left side.

You hadn’t even notice him approach.

“You know, if you wanted to get killed or die from a hypothermia, this is a for sure way to do it,” he jokes.

You don’t respond.

Hongjoong notices your lack of response and furrows his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

His tone is gentle, probably the softest you’ve ever heard him speak.

You can’t stop the sobs that leave your mouth at his words.

Without hesitation, Hongjoong drops the umbrella and falls to his knees in front of you. He brings his arms up as you fall into the chest, your face burrowing itself into his neck.

He says nothing as you cry, rubbing his hands softly against your back and stroking your hair.

It takes a few minutes for your sobs to die down and when you do, Hongjoong gently pulls your body away from his to look at you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He questions, eyes searching your own.

The look of despair on your face breaks Hongjoong’s heart. His chest physically hurts at the way you seem to be in so much pain, and him, unable to do anything about it.

He can’t remember the last time he felt so distraught over a human.

“I’m so tired,” you breathe out, closing your eyes.

A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks and Hongjoong cups your face with his hands, gently brushing them away.

“Then use me,” He says.

“Rest on me, take your anger out on me, hurt me, laugh at me, I don’t care.”

The raw honesty in his voice causes you to open your eyes and stare at him.

“It hurts me to see you in pain,” he frowns.

You let out a weak chuckle.

“I didn’t know demons could feel pain,” you attempt to joke.

Hongjoong doesn’t reply, only continuing to stare at you as if he’s trying to commit every inch of your face to memory.

“I feel so strongly for you it hurts,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen and you stare into his, trying to search for any inkling of deceit that will let you know he’s lying.

You can’t find any.

Your mouth parts, but no words come out. Hongjoong runs one of his fingers over your bottom lip.

“If you let me,” he glances from your lips up to your eyes. “I want to be your everything, the same way you are mine.”

The only thing that leaves your lips is a breathy sigh of his name. He leans in closer.

“May I?” He asks lowly.

You barely have a chance to nod before Hongjoong is crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss is passionate, slightly desperate in the way he clutches onto your face and pulls you closer, as if you’ll disappear from his hands if he leaves even an inch of space between your bodies.

Hongjoong lightly nibbles on your lower lip and you let out a soft sigh. One of his hands has moved to your hip, where it rubs soft circles.

Eventually pulling away from each other, you lean your forehead against his.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” Hongjoong admits to you.

You let out a small laugh and shake your head.

“You’re like a million years old, I find that slightly hard to believe.”

He shakes his head no, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to rest against his chest where his heart is. Underneath your palm, you feel the way his heart pounds.

“This is all for you,” Hongjoong smiles.

“Only for you.”

bonus!

You and Hongjoong were enjoying a night in, laying down on your bed as a movie played on the T.V. Hongjoong had draped himself over your lap, resting his head on your stomach as you gently combed your hands through his hair.

“You know, for a demon, I thought you would have horns or something,” you mumble, eyes focused on the screen. Hongjoong’s body shakes with slight laughter.

“Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I have horns. That’s kind of stereotypical of you to assume,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking him on the back of his head.

“I do have fangs though,” he mentions after a couple of seconds.

Your eyes widen.

“Really?”

Hongjoong hums, leaning up slightly to face you. He opens his mouth and you watch as his teeth slowly become pointed. Gaping, you bring your hand up to softly run your fingers over the sharp edges. Your breath hitches slightly when you press the pad of your finger on the point of his tooth and it leaves a small wound.

Grinning, Hongjoong crawls on top of you.

“Do you like them?” he asks.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning down and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You let out a breathy sigh, moving your head to side to give him more access. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes when he drags the tips of his sharpened teeth against your skin.

Pulling back to look at your flushed face, Hongjoong smirks, black seeping into his eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong imagine #hongjoong au #demon!hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez au #demon au

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quirklessidiot · 6 months

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title: Y/N and her boys [sneak peek] pairing : Upper classman/popular kid!Gojo Satoru x F!reader, Exchange student!Eren Jaeger x F!reader, MMA Fighter/Celebrity!Ryomen Sukuna x F!reader, Childhood Bestfriend!Aki Hayakawa x F!reader, Varsity football player!Itoshi Rin x F!reader (use of she/her pronouns) Genre: Alternate Universe-University setting, romance, fluff, angst (if you squint), slice of life, drama, all cliche romance genres unite! (Based on the Manhwa, Bunny and her Boys)

Summary: Y/N’s denied the existence of pretty boys and god forbid she’d ever end up dating one yet with one horrid break-up, she decides that relationships aren’t just meant for someone stupid like her but the problem is — five of them suddenly appear and god, why does it seem like they can’t get enough of her?

General warning for the story: mild sexual content, cliche tropes (help), mahito is his own warning, minor character death, mentions of depression, a lot of second-hand embarrassment from y/n's part (shes not a cool girl, SHE IS A BUBBLING MESS AND THATS OK <33), insecurities, bullying, and mentions of cheating Notes: english isn't my first language! (dont judge me) this multi-chaptered story will probably be 20-30 chapters (idk) in ao3. you can totally tell this story is rooted from self-indulgence LMFAO. Im not sure if i should cross post it but im leaning towards ao3 more either ways, can't wait to release this on friday!

also can u guess who she ends up with :P rb’s are appreciated yay FULL VERSION IS RIGHT HERE!

SNEAK PEAK

“Maybe…Maybe we should break up.”

There's another round of silence between you two, and you know that you can’t exactly take it back anymore since you had said it loud and clear, “Woah, woah, I told you I wasn’t with Misa.” his voice turns louder, and the background noises are good as gone as if he had left the noisy place, “Where are you? I’m coming to get you-”

“I said,” you try to control the stammering of your voice, trying to avoid the stares of the people who cast odd glances, “We’re done. I don’t want to see or hear from you again.” and before he could let another excuse out of his mouth, you end the call. It is only now that you notice how your legs have been quivering and your mouth has gone dry, seemingly like a pup who had just been born and trying to walk. You lose your footing and sit down on the dirty pavement.

No tears were shed at that very moment, probably because you were only stupefied, and it was written clearly on your face that this wouldn’t be something you’d recover anytime soon. Heck, you couldn’t even grasp the idea entirely that someone you’ve been friends with for years and, eventually, a lover would do that to you.

Was it as easy as a snap of a finger?

“Miss? Miss?” someone calls out, but it only bounces back to him like an echo in a cave. You remain still, eyes blinking rapidly while the rest of your face is slack. Everyone around you continued to move, but you remained there like a decorated statue.

“Miss? Christ, you’re about to be–” the husky voice also stops, and it’s only now that you look up to find a man. He seems stocky but, simultaneously, smaller, as if he didn’t want to come off as intimidating when he maintained eye-to-eye contact.

He is incongruous with everyone who walks by since he desperately tries to hide his features with a baseball cap and a dark face mark. The only thing you can see are strands of his bleached hair, his eyes that resemble the sunshine that peeked through the glasses of whiskey, and the swirls of ink becoming visible underneath his coat when he stretches out his arm.

If this were any other day, you’d run in the opposite direction because he looked like an unscrupulous loan shark, but your body remains in a state of unknown fatigue that you just wanted to stay still.

You watch as his face softens, the lines on his forehead somewhat disappearing when he watches the color bleed from your face. “...Alright…” he stops, squinting as he crouches to your level. His thick thighs encompass the rough expanse of his straight jeans, and you wondered if he had been an athlete or something. Aside from his built, his presence was rather invigorating, “oh…” he continues, “Sorry, you-uh…” The confidence he had to throw you off is gone like the evening dust as he motions his index finger up and down his face.

At that moment, you feel something wet running down your cheek. It seemed like the waterworks were late.

You didn’t want to be a pity party in front of anyone, and you’d expect there to be only bystanders, not ‘good samaritans’.

You sniffled, violently wiping the tears away as you felt your ribs were too tight when you took one long breath, “I’m fine…” you respond monotonously.

Who were you even fooling?

“Right…” you carefully watch him take out a handkerchief, “Fine, sitting on a dirty pavement near my car doesn’t make you look fine, Miss.” he prodded.

“Well, what do you care, anyways?” you tried to keep your voice from cracking, but the stranger showed no qualms of anxiety or fear, nor did he seem mad at your snappy attitude. The blue handkerchief is laid on his palm, waiting for you to take it, yet you exhibit no signs of accepting his kindness. Instead of forcing you through like the usual status quo, he returns it to his pockets.

The odd man.

“Well, for one, I don’t want to run your feet over since I’m parked over here,” he thumbs towards the black jeep that’s parked in front of you, “And my mom didn’t raise me to leave a girl sitting alone, crying her eyes out…”

“Well, did your mom tell you to mind your own business, as well?” your body remains heavy and distant from the stranger, not minding if it came off as rude, but you’ve always been wary of them, especially the ones who claimed to be nice. You wouldn’t be swayed even if you were in a vulnerable place.

He sucks in a deep breath, quite surprised that you had the energy to exchange a vehement response to him. Weren’t you just about to bawl your eyes out?

“Well, you honestly looked like you deserve some niceness after whatever happened.” he conceded, remaining suspiciously friendly, “Piece of advice, though, if it’s a guy, he’s not worth it.”

“I-what makes you think it’s a guy?” there it goes again, the unknown tightening of your throat and the way the gummy lids on your eyes would heat up as if a pipe of water was about to burst and flood the segways any moment.

“It’s always an asshole who doesn’t seem to know how to treat a woman right.” he lamely explains, and slowly but hesitantly, as if he was waiting for you to move away, he places one hand on top of your hand.

Unlike a while ago, you weren’t as hostile, but you were confused about why the stranger suddenly did this and didn’t seem to tilt away like you usually would, “So go home tonight, Miss. Cry it out and wake up tomorrow for yourself. You’ll be fine.”

You don’t even see his entire face, but the way he gently caresses your hair as if you were a long-time friend had your lips quivering, and without even realizing it, your torso bends forward. You bury your face in your arms, finding solace in your makeshift fetal position.

The stranger says nothing more; honestly, you didn’t even mind. His newfound presence is comforting.

#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #csm imagines #aki hayakawa x reader #aot imagines #guess who the guy is lmfao #📝📝.y/n and her boys

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hoedamn-eron · 2 months

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size doesn’t matter

You didn’t think anything bothered Poe Dameron…until he found out about your ex.

Warnings: Like one mention of sex. Mentions of drinking alcohol and being drunk. Was meant to be comedic but took a bit of an angsty turn, so warning for insecure!Poe. No proofread (surprise, surprise) so there are probably mistakes. Word count: 1,056 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

“How big was he?”

“Poe, please – “

“No, seriously, how big was he?”

You sigh, giving him an almost exasperated look. You’re not sure how you got here. No, actually, that’s a lie. You do. You and your friends had been drinking the night before in celebration after a successful mission, with no casualties, and the more you all drank, the more the conversation…turned.

Listen, you’d played Never Have I Ever before, and even Strip Poker. You were no prude; in fact, you were open about your sexuality, you enjoyed sex and you weren’t ashamed of it. So when someone (you couldn’t fully remember who it was, you think it might have been Rose) asked what your biggest ‘non-sexual' turn on was, and you mentioned your ex was a big guy and that was what had drawn you to him in the first place.

Now, obviously, it’s the next day and word got back to Poe. He’s not happy about it, and he’s cornered you by your quarters. Normally you’d take advantage of the fact that you’d found yourself alone with him, but he doesn’t look to be in the mood. You’d been steadily seeing Poe for over a year, and you felt like you were secure in your relationship; he was a great guy, with a heart of gold, and a nice smile. You still flounder around him, because kriff, he was so good looking. He had a line of people falling at his feet any chance they get.

You never expected him to be self-conscious about his height.

“Tell me,” he said, looking at you with that frown on his face, his arms crossing over his chest.

He’d been working out a little more lately, and it was paying off. He looked delectable.

“There is nothing to tell!”

“Other than you get turned on by guys who are ‘big’,” Poe mutters, and you ignore the pang of guilt that settles heavily in your chest.

“Poe - “ you stop yourself, giving a frustrated huff through your nose. You closed your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose as you gather your thoughts. “Does it really matter? I’m not with him, I’m with you.”

“But it turns you on.”

“Oh, Maker,” you say, exasperated, opening your eyes and rolling them up to the ceiling.

“Just tell me how big he was,” Poe said, almost nonchalant. You knew it was a trap.

“Look, it was just an offhand comment after a night of drinking, it didn’t mean anything,” you say, almost desperate now.

“Well if it didn’t mean anything, then you should have no problem telling me.”

You sigh, giving him a pointed look. “He was 6’5.”

“6’5!?” he asks, eyes widening as he looks at you.

Your shoulders sag, and you shake your head. “I told you it wasn’t important to know – “

“Not important to know? He’s a kriffing giant, how do I compete with that?” Poe asked, and you swear he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

The guy can look a First Order officer in the face and shoot down a bunch of TIE fighters, but worries about the height of your ex.

“You don’t need to compete with anyone,” you said. “It’s been well and truly over with him for years, and I’m with you.”

“But you’d prefer me to be taller though, right?”

“I prefer you as you are,” you say, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “You are amazing. You are exactly who I want you to be. You’re brave and good looking, and you’re kind, and you make me happy, Poe. Please, for Maker’s sake, I love you.”

Poe looks at you with a sad look on his face. “I sometimes…” He goes quiet, averting his gaze from you, before lifting his hands, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. “I sometimes feel like I’m not good enough for you. That you might want something…more.”

Your heart breaks at his words. Poe was always so confident, and he treated you like royalty, and practically wanted for nothing when it came to him. You hated the thought of him feeling inadequate, or ‘not enough’ for you. He was everything you ever wanted.

“You are enough,” you say sincerely. “You’re more than enough. I wake up every day wondering how I got so lucky to have even met you, never mind being in a relationship with you. You treat me well and respect me, and you…you make me feel all fluttery inside.”

Your cheeks warm at the admission, and Poe gives you a shaky grin.

“All fluttery, huh?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a few moments, dropping your hands from his cheeks.

“Your, uh…your ex not make you feel like that?”

You roll your eyes. “If you must know, he was a nice guy but not right for me. A bit of a trainwreck, but…yeah…” you sigh at him. “Please don’t…don’t compare yourself to him, or anyone else. You are kriffing Poe Dameron, everyone would give an arm and a leg to just be in your presence. And I fell in love with Poe Dameron.”

Poe studies you for a moment before his grin widens. “I am pretty great.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t let your ego get too big, you wouldn’t be able to walk through doors with your big head.”

“Even though I’m shorter, I am the better man.”

“Okay,” you say laughing, stepping away from him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he says, pulling you back towards him and he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you to him. “I just worry sometimes. I’m not around much, and I don’t want you to have…wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?”

“I love you too.”

Your irritation from his quip softens into a look of warmth and understanding. You adore this man.

“Let’s go and get some dinner, okay?” you say, pulling away from him and holding your hand out for him to take. “Bet all that worrying all day made you hungry.”

“Funny,” said Poe, heavy on the sarcasm as she takes your hand and you both stroll through the base, in a comfortable silence.

After a while, Poe pipes up with, “Our sex is better though, right?”

You smirk, not bothering to look at him. “Oh yeah, much better.”

“Sweet.”

#poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe Dameron #poe x reader #star wars #Oscar Isaac

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ahoycaptainautumn · 8 months

Text

Fated Mates Part 5

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

After your night in a shared tavern room you find yourself tending to a hurt Astarion. Wounded, he finds himself famished.

Legs collapsing under you, you lean against the now closed bathroom door as you slide to the floor. What in the hells just happened? The whole thing felt like a blur. A memory of someone else’s. There’s no way you would lust after someone like him. It’s as if being in his presence makes all the hate and anger you have towards vampires melt to the background. It’s so easy to forget who he is, what he is. It’s so easy to fall into a hysterical rivalry full of jabs and insults. You would dare say it’s even.. enjoyable. You hoist yourself back up and run to the wash basin to splash water in your face. This can’t be happening. Whatever the hell that was was a fluke. It would never, ever, happen again. Somewhere small, in the very back of your mind, you almost caught your own lie.

After getting dressed and preparing mentally you go back out to the room. You are greeted with an empty bedroom. You sign in relief and grab your belongings before heading out. You meet with your party down on the base floor. Heads turn in your direction and nod in greeting. Though Astarion finds it more interesting to chat up the barmaid currently serving him. You bristle at the sight but wipe it from your mind. It never happened for you and it never happened for him, problem solved. You slide into the booth besides Karlach as she pushes a breakfast plate your way.

“Get enough sleep then, beauty queen?” Karlach asks. You greedily wolf down the plate in front of you as you reply.

“Best nights rest I’ve had in a minute!” You respond joyfully in between mouth fulls. Karlach laughs as you attempt to wipe around your mouth.

“Here.” Gale reaches out with his thumb and wipes your chin where a bit of food was left. “Good as new.” He beams. You can’t help the light blush that dusts your cheeks.

“Oh well thank you Gale.” Though unbeknownst to you, Astarion watches with obvious distaste.

“Alright alright, well if you're all down engorging yourself I’d really like to get back on the road. Places to be and all that.” Astarion announces from the top of the table. He slides his chair out from under him and makes way towards the door. You raise an eyebrow towards Shadowheart.

“Before you got down from your room we ended up finding some leads on potential cures on the tadpoles. There’s a goblin priestess who serves the Absolute. She’s alledgedly in the Selunite temples a few towns over near Elturel.” Shadowheart goes on to explain. With that, you finish your breakfast and head out with the rest of your group.

A few hours into your journey your group comes across a darkened path. Signs in a tongue you don’t recognize line the dirt road leading forward. Enormous trees with thick treetops darken the path till near darkness. Not a sound comes from it. No chirping song birds, no rustling of deer. Just the howling wind rushing between the tree limbs. Something about it makes you uneasy. You stop in your tracks at the sight. You nearly want to tell everyone to turn around. To ask a fellow traveler another way ahead. Just as you want to turn and say something, Astarion comes shoulder to shoulder with you. He looks you over and clicks his tongue.

“My my, don’t tell me you're scared little killer?” He mocks. You scoff and cross your arms in defiance.

“I am not! I’m just.. concerned. For everyone’s safety.” You defend. He only gives a laugh as he saunters off further down the trail. Shadowheart offers a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder.

“All will be well.” She says before following Astarion. As much as you want to take stock into what she says, you can’t help the nervous pit in your stomach. You swallow your fear and head forward with the rest of the group.

The inside of the forest is just as haunting as the entrance showed. You keep a hand on the blade you have holstered at your side. Gale begins a tangent on a story about a magical forest or another before a sound stops you. It’s faint, but the snap of twigs up to the left has you on alert. The others hear it too and stop along with you. The sound stops and you wait a moment before continuing.

“Probably a lost fawn, probably just as scared as our little leade-agh!” Astarion’s bantering ceases when an arrow flies and hits him directly in the shoulder. He falls to a crouch while reaching for the intrusion in his arm. The rest of your team also crouches and brandishes their weapon. More arrows fly from the tops of the trees and it sends you all scampering for cover. Astarion, Karlach, Lae-zel and you go for the left side of the trail while the rest of the team goes for the other side. Lae’zel and you go for throwing knives and arrows where Karlach damn near burns the trees surrounding you down. Astarion does some damage as best as he can with one arm down. You see the other members of your party fighting just as hard.

As weapons fly the amount of arrows lessens till it ceases. Out of breath and bloodied you and Lae’zel trot ahead to look at the damage done. A small fleet of goblins lay dead and scattered on the forest floor. You both make quick work in retrieving anything useful from them all before regrouping. Shadowheart does her best to mend Astarions shoulder with what she has at hand.

“It looks like there was a bit of poison on the tip of the arrow. I have most of what I need to purge it from his system, it may take a few hours to fully leave his body.” Shadowheart explains. Astarions face is twisted in pain as he holds onto his wounded shoulder.

“Their camp is close by. I say we finish off whomever is left and take it for the night.” Lae’zel mentions. You nod in agreement and help Shadowheart with getting Astarion up and on his feet. Ever arrogant he brushes off the help and stays determined to act as if nothing wounded him. You roll your eyes but drop it before getting into another “lovers quarrel”. The group follows Lae’zel’s lead as she hunts down the goblin camp. It takes some time to get there, a lot to do with injuries sustained. You keep a watchful eye on Astarion as he pants with each step. You can tell he lost a good bit of blood from the way he seems even more pale than usual. The poison creates a gnarly green color around the wound. He wears a pained scowl that tells he was well and truly hurt.

Finally you all come upon a small ridge overlooking a clearing. Below lies the goblin camp with the slim amount of goblins left. It takes nearly no effort for you and your group to silently clear them out from above. Once the last ones are dead you all slip down into the campsite. To your surprise there was actually quite a bit of supplies at the camp. Scavenging around you find a supply tent full of dried meats, fruits, medicines, soaps, and more. You wave everyone over and you can practically feel the excitement at having so much food at your fingertips. Karlach makes quick work of getting a fire going while you and Gale portion out food for everyone. Everyone settles in around the campfire as they dig into the food you handed out.

Astarion sits on a log with his untouched plate next to him. Shadowheart had done all she could in healing him but the blood loss was getting to Astarions head. The pain was searing into his shoulder. As if reading his mind, you come and sit next to him.

“Wyll mentioned seeing a stream just past the trees over yonder. How about we get that wound cleaned?” You ask. Your face holds no malice, no hint of an ulterior motive. Just genuine concern with your eyebrows scrunched in worry. It makes something in Astarions stomach does flips that he quickly shuts down.

“If you’re looking for a way to see me naked you could just be forthcoming.” Astarion jokes. As much as he wants to maintain a look of cool arrogance you can hear the pain laced in his words. You punch him in his good shoulder lightly. He feigns an overly dramatic wounded look.

“Or I want to make sure you are properly healed. I need you alive, remember?” You tut at him. You stand offering your hand to help him up. He ignores it and stands on his own. You grab a bucket, soaps, and linens from the supply tent and lead Astarion into the tree line. You hear howls and whistles coming from your companions but you both ignore them. It doesn’t take very long for you both to come upon the stream. Astarion plops down against a nearby tree while you fetch water. Sitting in front of him you aid in carefully getting is bloodied shirt off. You can tell he has another snide comment coming but you shut it down with a glare. He tries to chuckle at the face you make but getting his shirt off from around the wound makes him see red with pain. The blood around the wound causes the cloth to stick to his skin like glue. You carefully pick it away with as much tenderness as you can. Astarion watches you as you concentrate on freeing him of his shirt. Even through the pain he can’t help but feel mesmerized by you. The way your eyes sparkle with determination. The way you bit your lip in concentration. It nearly distracts him from the searing pain in his shoulder.

“Alright hold still, it might hurt a little.” You warn. You soak a washcloth in soapy water before beginning to dab at the incision. Astarion hisses in pain but keeps still. To distract himself he asks you.

“Why Cazador?” He finds himself asking. It had been on his mind since you propositioned him days earlier. What on earth would a non-vampire have to do with him?

“Well aren’t you blunt. And rude may I add. Not one for light conversation?” You deflect the question. Your mind already wanting to go to that dark place. To the memories you try so hard to run from.

“And I don’t think that’s an answer.” He retorts. You snort a laugh at him before returning to the seriousness of the question. You had never told anyone before. Not that there has really been anyone who knew Cazador before Astarion. But your trauma, your grief, was yours to bear. And you did so alone. But something breaks your silence and has the words tumbling from your lips.

“He killed my family. A deal gone wrong with my father that costed him our entire family.” You stare at the work at hand, refusing to meet Astarions eyes. Before he has a chance to respond you just give him a silent shake of your head. You weren’t ready to hear the “I’m sorrys” that came with your story. To discuss it any further. Astarion seems to understand and nods his head.

With a bit of determination and care you are able to clean the wound nearly completely. You take the extra bit of linens you brought and wrap it around the wound to allow it to heal. You look to Astarion ready to make some comment to break the tension before you notice how gaunt he looks. His eyes find yours and for the first time they look... vulnerable.

“Astarion, are you okay?” Your hand comes to rest on his cheek to turn his face completely to yours. He sighs and you can see the slight shake in his body.

“I need to feed. But in this state I don’t know how possible that is.” He sighs. He can feel the hunger rattling his canines. The way his stomach howls and his throat aches. He remembers this type of hunger. When he thought he would die at the mercy of Cazador withholding disgusting vermin. You search his eyes and find only the truth. You swallow hard and bring a hand up to brush away your hair from your shoulder. You turn your head to the side and hold your hands in your lap.

“Well then be quick. And don’t think I’ll offer this every time you get hurt.” Your voice shakes. Your mind and body scream at you that this is a horrible idea. A terrible idea. But with the way Astarion looks at you, you know he will only be getting worse without satiating his hunger. Astarions head whips forward and his eyes nearly bug out from his head. Did he hear you right? Were you truly offering yourself to him?

“Dear, are you sure?” He asks, confused. He can see the shake in your body but you still nod your head. He takes your hand in his as he ventures closer to your neck.

“Tell me when to stop and I promise I will.” He whispers against your skin. The slight nod of understanding is all he needs before he bears his fangs. His teeth bury themselves into the nape of your neck and you can’t help the way it takes your breath away. You squeeze Astarions hand for support. It makes all thoughts melt away from you. It blends the two of you into one as if you are two parts of the same soul. It’s painful but also somehow peaceful. As if a wave of comfort and belonging flowed from him. You lean into him and relax.

For Astarion it’s as if he is seeing color for the very first time. As if the earth had cracked open and freed him from centuries of neglect. Rushing feelings of euphoria hit him as he greedily gulps down your delectable blood. That all too familiar feeling of the bond aches to be knotted inside of him. To take and claim you as you are rightfully his. That the universe had graced him with a mate and all he had to do was reach out and take. Astarion feels dizzy with power. With lust. With an all consuming feeling that you would be his destruction and resurrection.

You gently squeeze his hand as you feel yourself getting more and more dizzy. You feel lightheaded as if you're melting into the clouds. He doesn’t register your grip and you squeeze once again.

“Astarion.” You are able to barely whisper. At that he snaps from his trance and retracts from you. He laps up the remaining blood from your neck and you shiver at his tongue's touch. It riles something inside of him that sends electricity right to his core. You look over at him with a near dopey smile. He can’t help but smile back even with your blood glistening off his canines.

“Hey, you didn’t kill me.” You giggle. He can’t help but laugh with you. He can tell the blood loss was making you nearly drunk, a sleepiness taking over.

“Ye of little faith. Now come on, you go on back to camp.” He dusts himself off and helps stand you up alongside him. You give him a confused look.

“And where are you doing?” You ask. His eyes darken with a glint. He looks stronger. Vibrant. Ready to take on anything.

“To hunt, little killer. I’ll be back.” And with that he stalks off into the night. As you make your way back to camp you miss the cracking sounds of feet nearby. Of a hidden sorcerer hidden in the trees following Astarion.

You wake to a screaming match outside your tent. Sunlight streams in through your thin tent and has you blinking away the sleep from your eyes. You rub your eyes with your palms and try to straighten yourself. The screaming only gets louder outside. You nearly throw your pillow over your head and attempt to get more sleep. To ignore whatever juvenile argument was happening between your partners. But the word vampire has you jolting awake and running outside.

You find Gale spearheading the group as they corral Astarion to the edge of the camp. His hands are up in mock defense as he lashes out at them with insults.

“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t run a stake through your dead heart!” Gale screams. The rest of your party stands behind him, ready to pounce. You run to Astarions side without a thought.

“(y/n)! Careful! He’s a-“ Karlach starts.

“Vampire.” You finish, standing in front of Astarion between him and the witch hunt. Everyone looks shocked at your admission. Even Astarion seems dumbfounded. Why were you defending him?

“You knew? You knew and you let him continue to follow us? To live?” Wyll responds.

“That’s exactly what I did.” You keep your cool as best you can. But your hand twitches just above the blade you keep holstered at your thigh.

“Why in the gods names would you do that? You’re a vampire hunter for gods sake!” Wyll continues. Somehow the answer is easy. Easier than you thought admitting it would be.

“Because I trust him.” A hush falls over you all. Your heart beats wildly as you attempt to think of an escape plan if things are to go bad. Astarion all but forgets the angry mob in front of him. Your words stick in his mind and take up all its space. Trust. You trusted him. Him who has only ever been deceitful. A liar, a con man. Someone who has never been trusted and has never given reason to. And you, a little vampire hunter, trusted him. The mating bond sings in his mind and shines bright.

“Give us one reason to trust him.” Gale counters. You take a second to think of a good reason before your hand reaches up towards your collar. You shrug your jacket off and thrust the collar of your shirt down. You expose the bite marks Astarion left on your body from last night.

“Because he fed on me and stopped. Because I trusted him and he did nothing to disprove it. I gave him a chance at my life and he denied it. Which means you can all do the same.” You loosen your grip on your shirt and watch everyone’s reaction. They all seemed stunned, not expecting your answer. Astarion can barely believe it either. He takes a step forward to stand next to you. His shoulders touch yours as he comes close.

“We are all afflicted with these awful worms in our heads. We are all on the same team. Besides, I mostly have self control.” He tries to calm the group. It takes a moment but the tension of the air dissipates. Shoulders slump and weapons are reholsted. Sighs of relief are heard all around.

“Well as long as you don’t bite I guess that’s that.” Shadowheart says as she turns away. The rest of the group grumbles their shared approval and head back to their respective tents. Your body finally relaxes as you let go a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You look over at Astarion to find him already looking at you. You turn to ask him what’s on his mind before his lips find your forehead. The kiss is swift, barely skin to skin contact. But it blossoms a blush across your whole body all the same. You look up at him to find him smiling.

“Thank you, your kindness will not be forgotten.” He says before walking away to his tent. You freeze in position unable to move or think. Your hand reaches up and touches where he had kissed you. You inspect your fingers as if looking for evidence that that had truly happened. Something deep and ancient stirs deep inside you and you're terrified of how much you enjoyed it.

Part four here

Part six here

#smut #reader insert #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bd3 #mates #balders gate 3 #wyll #gale hawthorne #shadowheart #lae’zel #karlach #baldurs gate 3

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izvmimi · 18 days

Text

cw: pop star!au. fem!reader with diva & tsun tendencies. sfw but suggestive. possibly may have more parts.

When you finally show up to the studio, having woken up hours past your expected alarm such that you had to skip your yoga and your poolside brunch, your assistant is not happy to see you in the least, and the rest of your camera crew is at least a little bit miffed.

And quite frankly, you don’t give a flying fuck.

You’re about forty-five minutes late, but the fact of the matter is that the main attraction is you, and only you, and as one of the top international pop stars of the decade, you have gotten a little too comfortable with letting your whims set the tone of things. The hustle and bustle of the set however starts up again the moment you walk in, as your head assistant claps her hands and lets the crew know to set up cameras, makeup and outfitting to get ready to put you in their chair and turn you magical.

You walk right up to her and give her a cheeky grin.

“Sorry, I overslept.”

Aya wishes she could throw you out of the nearest window but settles to say slap a script in a sheet of paper into your chest.

“This is the plan for the music video. Read this and don’t piss me off.”

You frown as you take it from her then scan through the crumpled piece quickly. Your newest music video is supposed to be a bit sexier than usual, with a pretty generic storyline - you play a damsel in distress saved by a dashing hero, the trope subverted by the fact that you’re a succubus, far from someone to be saved. You’re excited for it, having played a little bit too close to sweetheart territory for so long, and it’ll be your first time having an actual top Hero as your love interest, unlike your prior models who were more props than anything else.

But there’s one issue.

You crinkle your nose in distaste.

“You got Deku!?”

Aya raises her eyebrow adjusting thick rimmed glasses as she repositions her stance as though she’s preparing for a fight, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Is there a problem?”

You groan dramatically, then rush past her, pretending to be aggravated as you make your way towards the breakfast spread that has remained untouched until you arrived and stuff a dry croissant in your mouth.

“I asked for a hot Hero! Sexy! I ask you to do your goddamn job and you hire a man with green Teletubby energy!”

Somebody beside you scoffs, and as the two of you glance in the worker’s directions, he’s unable to stifle his laughter before he walks off, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies with him. You twist your mouth to the side, hands on hips, then turn your attention back to Aya.

“So you’re telling me Dynamight, Red Riot, and Shoto were unavailable?”

Aya’s lips press into a thin line. Despite being your assistant, she’s still one of your closest confidantes and she bites back just as hard as you can, and as usual, she does so now.

“I said, don’t piss me off, Tinkerbell. I’ll have you know I spent a lot of extra time making sure to-” she stops chewing you out suddenly, her eyes wide, and you blink, then turn.

Deku is standing right behind you, and you’re 100% certain he heard your exchange. If he’s upset, he doesn’t show it, instead he’s smiling sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“I think Kacchan was a bit busy and uh… Shoto probably wouldn’t have done this anyway, he’s not the type. As for Red Riot… that I’m not really sure...,” he trails off, pensive.

You blink at him rapidly as you crane your neck to look at him.

Pro Hero Deku is a lot taller than he looks on television. His face is still boyish and friendly, the harmless look not necessarily limited to television, but when you take a look at the rest of his countenance, broad shouldered and thick, it’s clear that there’s a reason why he’s topping the charts currently.

Even if his soft look doesn’t particularly scream sex appeal.

“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” He bows politely, hands pressed against the sides of his jeans. “Let’s work hard together!”

When he rises, he’s looking at you with hopeful anticipation, and the way his eyes practically glow with earnestness actually upsets you.

You open your mouth then close it. The diva persona of yours isn’t without an ounce of empathy, but he’s already getting on your nerves. You look at Aya who gives you the glare she does when she wants you to behave, but you’ve already stomped your foot and stormed away.

Frustrated and unsure why.

“I’ll be at my trailer, call me when we get started.”

—

The problem is that he’s hot, and you hate to be wrong.

The type of hot that makes your head spin when you’re too close, that makes you forget the words you’re supposed to be singing to him, that makes the fans that blow through your wig and flowing clothing not enough to manage the heat that runs through your body.

“Get closer!” the videographer screams behind the camera and you swallow thickly as Izuku moves first, crossing the already minimal distance between the two of you to wrap his arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. It’s supposed to be a romantic, protective pose, and he’s not looking at you but at the camera, but he’s so close, he smells good, his clothes are dramatically torn, ripped in the way you’d expect after a tense battle but artificially so. Your heart thumps as if he were protecting you for real, and you hope he can’t sense it, the disarray that’s running from your center to your fingertips as you try desperately to figure out where to put your hands.

“___, can you please find a way to make this look more natural?” you’re being barked at by your greatest hater and favorite employee.

Aya, please shut the fuck up, you want to tell her, but Deku hasn’t let you go.

“Next take.”

Deku finally releases you and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s smiling, the makeup dust and grime and blood barely marring his handsome features, in fact accentuating them.

They didn’t have to make him look this good. You’re going to have a talk with the visual designer, this is getting ridiculous.

“Sorry, was that okay?” He’s still smiling, bashful as if he’s the one who can’t stop looking at you, and imagining how his hands would feel pressed against your chest, when it’s very clearly the reverse. You wonder for a moment how easily he attracts the opposite sex with this sweet boy act, as if the plentiful scars on his broad chest, littered over his arms and likely below the pants hanging low on his waist, creeping past the Adonis belt aren’t evidence that perhaps he’s not so toothless after all.

You want to practically smack him, he frustrates you so damn much.

“Adequate,” you answer. The director tells you to take five and you step away quickly, practically falling off the fake set rubble on your way down.

You can’t even stumble the way you want to, because Hero Deku is fast and is holding onto your arm before you can make your way down.

“You okay?”

Unwittingly, you give him a distressed look, and he lets go quickly, and you storm off.

“I’ll be in my trailer!” you announce again, while the workers grumble that you’re supposed to literally only take five.

Aya is chuckling to herself this time, because she’s clocked you a mile away.

Tinkerbell has a crush.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimidoriya #mimi writes: pop star au

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billskeis · 3 months

Note

Could you make bill kaulitz angst? I mean: fight argument or disagreement, just stuff like that. Also, I want the reader to not forgive so easily, too, please.

Thank you 👾

ᡣ𐭩 arguments w bill

you just had to have the worst day ever. but not even the worst day ever, worst week in your entire life that you and bill had been dating. it was never supposed to be like this,

there was never supposed to be fighting, he promised.

you bust through the bedroom door that had been slammed in your face during an altercation with your boyfriend for what seems like it has been going on for forever.

“don’t fucking walk away from me bill,” screaming as you enter the living room to find bill scrambling across the shared space to grab his car keys and his coat, “bill. fucking. kaulitz.” your voice was turn, and immediately you were met with the disapproving look of the man who you loved most.

“what!? what the fuck is it now, y/n!? you been on my ass since we’ve got home it’s like whatever i do is just not enough??” you scoff, crossing your arms to press them against your chest, “so this is my fault now?? look me in the eyes bill and tell me you didn’t fucking lie to me this whole time.”

bill pursed his lips together as he clenched his jaw. prior to your argument, bill had somewhat developed what one could say, a lying problem. lying about his whereabouts, about who he’s with, what he’s doing. just, in general. lying. you can tell by the way he can’t even hold eye contact with you, eyes darting to every inch and corner of the apartment.

“so??” you ask,

“so what?”

“so did you fucking go to the bar with her or not!? bill?? god, you’re insufferable..”

“yeayea i’m insufferable because i just want to have some of my own personal time, is that so fucking illegal?? i swear y/n, you argue about the same shit everyday nagging on my ass!”

you cannot find the words to say.

“you never change, do you? never fucking changed a day in your life. always so stubborn, perfect, never did any wrong in your life huh? it’s always MY fault or I did something.”

…

“you never give me a reason to trust you, bill. i told you how important communication is to me, so just, please..”

“talk to me bill, don’t leave me..”

tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to fall. attempting to look back at your boyfriend through a glossy gaze. you cannot make his face out. you don’t even know if you want to make his face out.

because the person in front of you, you had no clue as to who that was.

“bye, y/n. don’t call me.”

and there you were. another door yet slammed in your face once more as you were met with the complete and utter silence of your apartment.

having fell to the ground, all you could do was crawl and hurdle up against the couch, wailing into your knees. you felt as though you couldn’t breathe and more than ever did you wish that you just didn’t.

is this it?

had you crossed the line?

you twist the keys to your apartment door after a long day of nothingness, to only be met with something, or someone that you sure in hell just did not want to see after the day you had today.

beginning to turn your body to leave for the second time, a hand grabs your wrist as you immediately shove it off you.

“don’t fucking touch me bill.”

“y/n. please, can we talk now?”

“oh now you wanna talk?? you wanna talk now, bill??”

you slam the door behind you out of respect for your apartment neighbours in not wanting to hear how loud your screaming at the stranger in front of you.

“talk to me bill, OH PLEASE, tell me how i owe you the pleasure of talking to me,”

“the woman at the bar—” you cut him off.

“i don’t want to hear about the fucking woman in the bar. i want you to recognize through that thick little skull of yours that you left me. and why that was wrong.”

“…”

“you left me, when i needed you. you left me, at a low point. vulnerable, bill! are you serious??” you couldn’t help but point a finger at his face, inching closer with each and every word. taunting him. berating him.

you begin to feel more heated by the second as the events of what happened a month ago repeat in your head.

“and no fucking contact!? for like, what, a month?? are you even real bill!? y’know what—where’s the reset button so i can see the man i first fell in love with.” circling his body you attempt to pretend look around his figure as though he was some sort of robot or artificial technology that somehow replaced the real bill unknowingly.

“…i’m still here.”

bill begins to pull you into an embrace into which you almost gave into. but he hasn’t apologized for his wrongs yet. you also begin to remember that his behaviour hasn’t been going on for that one day, it was weeks.

you push him off, and before he could say anything, you spoke. “y/n i—”

“FUCK! just—don’t touch me.. one hour, bill. give me ONE HOUR and i’ll be able to talk to you with a clear head. then i won’t say things i mean, or even worse, leave the apartment for one fucking month.”

you don’t let him get a word in.

you stomped your way into your bedroom and lock the door shut leaving bill alone in the living room. by himself, like how he left you. and if he really cared, and wanted this relationship to work, he wouldn’t leave. leave for a month.

you really were giving him the benefit of the doubt here.

opening the door, you were surprisingly met with your, ex boyfriend?? boyfriend?? sitting on the couch who quickly got up at the making of your presence that crept from the once shared bedroom.

you sigh heavily, you don’t even know if you want to do this. making your way to the couch, you plop down beside the space that bill once sat in, he slowly returning back to the position he was in.

your knees touch, but you inch away from him, which bothered him a lot.

“i fucked up. i fucked up bad, y/n. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry i should’ve never left—i just, fuck.. i didn’t know what i was doing, okay?? but i know that doesn’t give you or me grace. but i can’t go back on my actions now, can i?”

“no, you can’t bill..”

“if you need me to explain what happened. i can, i will. i should’ve done it in the first place i was just so tired.. so tired, and angry.. it all let out. and i know this shit apology can’t fix it. but, please, y/n. tell me what i can do to fix it. tell me what i can do to make you stay.”

“bill..”

“what is it that i can do to make you stay?? hm? i need to know how i can make things right! because even the thought of losing you makes my chest physically hurt.”

“bill—”

“i want you, y/n. i want you so badly. i just need to see you smile once more. you don’t have to forgive me just please show me your smile. let me hug you one last time before you tell me it’s over. i can’t take back the things i said or did but i will never take back the fact that i lo—”

“bill! holy shit can you slow down for a second??”

“h-huh??”

“the fucking rambling is giving me a headache..but, shit, okay. if we want to make this work, we just need to be on the same page. AT ALL TIMES.”

his voice was shaky and he was breathing quite hard. his body leans in closer to yours after having heard what you said but you lean away, not wanting to get an inch closer to him.

“so, we’re not, breaking up..?”

“no bill. like i said, i want this to work. i want us, to work. it’s just up to the both of us if we want to make the effort, are you willing to do that?”

in his eyes, this basically means that you forgive him. and all he could do was smile, you couldn’t help but soften the once stern gaze, burning with anger and sadness at the face of relief he made.

“yes! yes of course meine schatz! oh thank you. i’m sorry for leaving you. i’m sorry for lying. i’m so sorry for ever thinking that it was okay to hurt you.”

pulling you into an embrace, he held onto your frame as though he never wanted to let go. with your arms so tightly squeezed, you couldn’t even reciprocate the action, only using one of your hands to pat his back.

“i love you most, my beautiful liebling,”

“i love you too, bill.”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel angst #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz angst #2000s #fyp

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ghostaholics · 1 year

Note

for soulmate au:

would johnn and reader cross paths again and if they would what would it look likee

would they maybe find a way to love eachother despite johnn's proffesion

𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒖

here’s more on what happens between them

After their long talk, they decide to regrettably, but amicably part ways – neither of them like the circumstances, but they agree it’s for the best. She sends him off with a hug; they hold onto each other for a little bit longer than they should. It tides them over for maybe a week. Cue a whole montage of them in their respective places unable to adjust back to normal life for a while.

Then, as previously mentioned, it starts to hurt. At first, it starts off like a little twinge – a bones-deep sadness that comes and goes every so often but she tries to ignore the feeling. It gets worse not long after, a visceral chest pain that’s so awful it sends her straight to A&E; she thinks she might be having a heart attack. Who’s your emergency contact? they question. Don’t have one, she says, and it sends another stab of pain through her. The entire hospitalization is about a day-long affair. They run every test in the book, they give her clot-busters, vasodilators — hell, they’re contemplating cutting her open for invasive procedures even though the labs don’t say she’s had a myocardial infarction, just an EKG that had some anomalies but everything else was fine. Someone, a cardiologist maybe, has the sense to ask, How’s your soulmate? And she replies in a grim tone, ‘We don’t talk.’ Well, there’s the problem.

Price caves. He caves so fucking bad; calls her up (they’d agreed only to contact each other for emergencies), because to be honest, he wasn’t sure if it was just him or if she’d been feeling it too – emotional pain was never in the books but it seems like now it is. This is new. This is bad. His voice is gruff like usual but the concern is evident behind his words. And the second they hear each other down the line, there’s a weight that’s been lifted – the pain dulls. Relief. Not quite gone altogether, but more manageable. Neither of them feel like they’re on the brink of death anymore. And there are just shaky breaths being exchanged on both ends as they try to come to grips with what’s been happening. So, cutting all contact, going cold-turkey, is clearly not going to work for either of them. They know they can’t be doing this, but the more they talk over the phone, the easier it gets to breathe, to function normally. And so it begins.

Their relationship runs on a schedule; a loophole – every Sunday, 0600 her time. They count it down, too. Exactly one hour. Just enough for them to keep the pain at bay, to go about their lives until the next call. Sometimes longer when he knows he's about to go off-the-grid for a mission and won't make the usual Sunday time. They talk about anything and everything: she usually talks about her personal life, old stories from her past, what she’s making for breakfast, what her plans are for the week, and him – stuff about the 141 (never anything confidential or gory) like what sort of antics they get up to, spends an entire call telling her about Villa Claras and why they’re the superior cigar (kind of a nerd about those, whiskey, and the Reds, which she finds endearing – actually very knowledgeable regarding many things that he can talk her ear off about for hours). She falls in love with his voice first, the rest comes after slowly.

The more times they use this loophole, the weaker it gets. It starts off with him asking for five more minutes; yeah, he hears the alarm go off. Maybe a little bit longer will buy him more time throughout the week until the next call. Nothing they haven’t done before. But five turns into ten the week after, then twenty, and so forth. She says his name softly, interrupts him when they reach 0930 during one of their talks. I know what you're doing John. We can't. And here's the thing: it's a case of 'she fell first, but he fell harder.'

It doesn't last as long anymore; three days now until the longing starts back up again. And he calls her. He fucking calls her in the middle of the week on a Wednesday. John— She feels it too. I had to hear your voice again, he says with urgency. Because he just couldn't fucking help himself.

So they schedule something for Wednesdays. It'll help. It should. And it does, for all of two weeks until the same bloody thing happens again. This isn't sustainable. He knows that he’s not going to retire anytime soon, and even more that that – he knows that she shouldn't be doomed to live this kind of life. Not for for him, but most especially not fair for her. It's like she said, isn't it? She waited an entire lifetime for him. Why keep putting her through that? So he mentions this, kills him to do it: you deserve better; I know there's someone out there who can give you the things that I can't (Sunday mornings face-to-face over tea, to be near one another in a way where they can see the other's okay, where the hurt is non-existent; intimacy and affection and proper romance; marriage, growing old together, something quiet and normal.) She's already taken on his pain. He figures that it's his turn to bear it for the both of them now.

She tells him, without reservation, that it's the stupidest thing he's ever said. And before time's up for this call she uses the last few minutes to admit what's been on her mind lately. I don't want any of that stuff if it's not with you. What would be the point? It took me a while but I've finally figured out what soulmates are for; not for all the things you've said, as nice as they are – or would be; it’s simple, really. I was put on this earth to love you and I think that I've fulfilled my purpose. Nothing else matters.

She waits for his call on Sunday, 0600 on the dot – he's always punctual, she knows; this time is no different. But she doesn't even get a 'hello' out before he speaks into the phone: I'm outside.

#idk if this was interesting or clarified anything #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #john price angst #captain john price #john price #captain price x you #john price x you

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mondaymelon · 11 months

Text

— 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱 ♥

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh x gn!reader:

⤷ headcanons ♥ ⤷ kaveh is so silly help-

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu @solxima, psps come get your sumeru men ♡

"Wh- Hey, are you stealing my food??"

ALHAITHAM quietly notices, but doesn't particularly mind.

So, he doesn't point it out, and merely watches with an air of amusement how you're attempting to "sneakily" snatch the food of his plate when his gaze is "averted."

Of course, he's only acting to see how you'll react.

For someone like Al Haitham, whose job is as predictable as a straight line, someone as interesting as you immediately made him intrigued - the way you move, the way you speak, how you present yourself, the way you smile... all of it has enraptured him.

To the point where he can't take his multicolored eyes off of you, you're just so... fascinating.

Just like now, how you were quietly giggling to yourself and at the diminishing amount of food on his plate, while the ashen-haired man seemed to remain oblivious to it all. Haitham, who just sat there, the most minuscule smile appearing on his expression - a rare sight indeed, arms crossed as he watched you with a slightly smug aura.

Still, it seems you're not all that stupid. The more you take, the more you glance up at the man's calm expression, the more confused you begin to look... and that confusion soon blooms into suspicion, and then, finally, realization.

"You've noticed, haven't you...?" You stare at him, the slightest pout forming on your lips.

"Noticed what?"

"You- Are you really..." A sigh. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Do I, now?"

His short answers, words that reveal nothing, are starting to irritate you. And when you stay silent for the count of three, Haitham merely shrugs his shoulders, pushing his chair back.

"As it seems that I've finished my meal, I'll be leaving." Flicking his gaze to his nearly empty plate, he can barely hold back his amusement from creeping into his voice as he stands up, starting to walk out.

"What?? Wait-" Latching onto his arm, face flushed, you glance up at him with wide eyes. "Archons, Haitham, it was a joke!"

"I know. And so was that."

Then he sits back down just as quickly, not bothering to remove your hold from his wrist, the small smirk on his face growing.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" ♥

KAVEH doesn't notice at first, mostly due to the fact that he's already downed several goblets of alcohol.

It's late at night, but you can't even tell, since the two of you are sitting at a table in the dimly lit establishment, the mixed hubbub and laughing chatter almost drowning out the outside world. The blonde male had finished a long-awaited building project, and you had decided to treat him to a meal and a couple drinks as celebration.

A couple drinks.

He's obliviously ranting away, words about "Haitham" and "Irritating" spilling out of his mouth. In his wavering hand, sloshing about is his... what, third drink, now? You've already lost count, merely smiling and nodding along as the male continues to sputter all the annoyances he's ever experienced, face flushed.

Meanwhile, you are busy eating to your hearts content, cheerfully taking Kaveh's food whenever he's looking the other way. Do you feel any guilt? Somewhat, but...

It's not like he'd be able to stomach anything solid with all of the alcohol he'd drank, right?

You're basically doing him a favor - after all, isn't food waste a large-scale problem? Ah, but Kaveh still is perceptive, even with his mind all clouded.

"Hey... wait..." Kaveh's voice is slurred. "W...Where'd m...my food go?" The way his crimson eyes are almost tearing up as he shakes his head several times, staring at his plate with the most puzzled and remorseful expression. He glances around the room, squinting, almost as if his missing food had grown legs and walked away, and that he would be able to find it somewhere.

"Aw..."

He sounds so heartbroken it makes you feel bad.

"Ahaha..." All you can do is laugh nervously.

"...Ah, but I could've sworn... I ordered... hm, whatever..." With that, he takes another large sip of his drink.

At least he wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow. ♥

(a/n) just realized that without context, that last line could be interpreted a very different way-

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yan-lorkai · 4 months

Note

Imagine yandere Lucifer punishing his darling but instead of spells or line writing he goes for the silent treatment or just leaving them in a dark and enclosed space so and now there darling is getting flashbacks on how they were punished as a child and is begging him not to leave them

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, guilt tripping, child abuse, panic attack + comfort for the said panic attack, toxic relationship, probly some typos (❁´◡`❁)

You can still hear them, your parents screaming, their voices reverberating off the walls until everything goes silent. It is common for fights of this type to occur now; your father tries to protect you from your mother's extreme punishments, but he can never convince her to tell him where the basement keys are hidden.

Your father, blessed be his heart. He's was not good at defusing tension, throwing insults and punching things, and using a tone of voice so angry that it makes you shake and hold back crying.

Your childhood was like this, silent, ignored and sad, you often observed the world from behind the door lock. You could hear very faintly the news on television, you heard songs that your mother sang in an arithmic and out of tune tone, she gossiping with her friends, and above all you imagined a different life. A different world, with someone who loved you, with someone who protected you.

Things got even worse after your father's death, but you never told Lucifer these details. It wasn't a pleasant conversation to have, even though you trusted him a lot and you knew he would calmly comfort you and ease your fears, there was still distrust and pain present in your heart. You used to imagine a pink, pretty and glamorous love, and really Lucifer was all of that. But he had an additional danger lurking in the darkness of his heart, in his sharp-toothed smile and in his hands with huge claws that encircled your waist.

He was a demon and like all demons, the Morningstar loved possessively, a love so suffocating that it stole your entire essence. But you didn't care, you didn't know better and you let him take whatever he wanted from you without thinking twice. Lucifer was an extremely sweet and soft boyfriend most of the time, but he also was incredibly methodical.

Stopping to think now you don't know if he ever really loved you or the idea of you. The idea of a human lover who was strong and survived the seven lords of hell, the idea of a lover who was kind and funny and so fragile he could rip you in half with a single punch. Maybe that was why Lucifer loved having you on his lap so much, resting his face on your neck while he worked, he needed something weak to feel strong.

Just like your mother needed you to blackmail your father. The strong overcoming the weak, hunter and prey. And once again there was nowhere for you to run or anyone to help you.

The problem with ideas is that they are fragile, they break easily. Today instead of you coming to spend your time with Lucifer like you always did, you preferred to spend time with Simeon and Luke. They were your friends, it was only natural. But apparently it wasn't something that pleased Lucifer, he didn't like it one bit and he let you know this with the severe expression attached on his face.

"I will give you a chance to redeem yourself," ruby eyes staring into yours as if he withheld all the truth in the world and you were the most lying human he had ever seen. As if you were a flower that he needed to cleanse of the weeds that corrupted you. "Apologize if you will."

There was something different about him as soon as you found him. The soft sound of piano coming from his record player as the open windows let the air in and the dark atmosphere sink into your bones, a shiver went down your spine just like it did when you witnessed Lucifer punishing one of his brothers.

A bitter taste spreading in your mouth as you watched him cross his arms and smile. But it wasn't the same smile he gave you as soon as you got a good grade on your test or right after you two woke up. That smile was one of fascination every time he whipped Mammon or killed a demon, dark, sly smile that made a knot curl in your throat and tears of fear come to your eyes. A dark smile.

You remembered your father's voice. You remembered the slaps you received from your mother and your little world in the basement. You trembled, not knowing how to respond or act, only being able to count how many times Lucifer sighed or the number of times his feet made contact with the floor. The silence stretched until it seemed obscene. And the Morning Star had reached the end of his patience, disappointed in your silence and angry at being your second choice.

He crossed his office with slow steps, his expression now more neutral, Lucifer held your face between his hands tightly, his nails bruising your skin. You waited for anything, screams, attacks, except Lucifer touching his forehead to yours and looking into your eyes as if you were a dumb little thing. There was tenderness and there was fear, and there was a little of everything, your heart beating confusedly inside your chest as you drown on your own feelings.

"My sweet, naive summer child, you don't know what you did, do you?" He uses that condescending tone that almost makes you roll your eyes, but you don't, realizing that you're already in trouble and you don't want to irritate him even more. "Lovers are always each other's first priority, MC. Ever."

Your eyes widened as Lucifer freed your face from his hands and turned onto his back. "Wasn't I good enough for you, Mc? Have I not cared for and loved you always, as a good lover would? So why am I not your first priority like you are mine?"

Oh. You had hurt him. Oh my, you had hurt him.

You denied, pulling his arm so he turned to face you again. "No, no, I love you very much, Luci, I don't have eyes for anyone but you and I'm sorry if I made you doubt my feelings."

But he remained standing with his back to you, thinking, Lucifer was unpredictable when he was hurt, he was angry in his actions and vengeful in his words, and when he was quiet like this you always felt a little apprehensive. He walked away without saying anything in return, back to his paperwork, as if you weren't even there.

Was he ignoring you? You decided to move closer to him, guilt pounding in your chest as you sat down in the chair he always kept next to his. The same chair you left empty today while you were having fun with the angels, not thinking about how lonely he must be feeling being alone all day.

Were you really so wrong about spending time with your friends? Several minutes passed in silence, broken only by the sound of a pen dragging over paper and your breathing. It was so uncomfortable, the silence, you turned to see the closed expression that had closed on Morningstar's beautiful face, eyebrows twisted, lips set, he wasn't happy at all.

"Lucifer, can we talk?" You asked.

Lucifer, however, remained silent, not giving in to your words. He hummed his favorite song as he read and signed documents, smoothing his bangs as they fell in his eyes. In other times he would be reading to you out loud as you had confided in him that you loved listening to him speak, you would pull your chair closer and lay your head on his shoulder. You hated the silence.

In the silence you remembered the days spent in the basement, the sleepless nights and the shadows that crept from the walls to you, close to touching you before disappearing. And then the cycle repeated itself, your parents screamed, you listened the news and the gossips, night came and the shadows return, tauting you, mocking you.

You looked down, feeling the depth of the wound you had caused. The silence persisted, heavy, as you remained distant from each other, trapped in a moment of disagreement and hurt. The tightness in your heart became unbearable, suddenly you were back in your small basement room, the light fading, the cold crackling over your skin.

You looked down, your feet chained to the walls again while roachs and rats runned past you. And Lucifer... Lucifer had abandoned you because you ruined everything. Your body tightened, you took one, two breaths until you realized that the oxygen was not able to reach your lungs.

'He hates you.' An annoying voice screamed in your mind, making you flinch on your seat. 'He's going to break with you. He's going to leave you alone again.'

'If even your parents couldn't love, why he should?"

'Undeserving and ungrateful, good for nothing human.'

Too much noise. Too much silence. Too much everything. Invisible hands started to climb up your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

Everything is crashing down on your already overwhelmed mind. You were stumbling in the darkness, without a light in sight, no end in the horizon. No switch to flick the light on, no Bringer of light in sight. Trapped forever here, alone. You clutched onto your chest with weak fingers. Your lungs were rising and falling at a far rapid pace, one you couldn’t gain control of. Everything was burning. What was this?

A panic attack? A heart attack?

A pair of hands found their place on your shoulders, nails digging straight into your skin, burning, scratching. You felt lightheaded, a thin line of sweat bathing starting to run down your neck as you tried to breath. Your eyes were open but you saw only darkness in front of you, you could breath only darkess, for it was only you and darkness that existed right here and right now.

The only good thing on your life was your relationship and you destroyed it so easily, so mindlessly.

There, in the darkness you could see your mom's face wearing a twisted smile. You struggled against your shackles backing away from her at every step she took on your direction, red painted nails trying to reach you, trying to harm you again as she always did.

“Breathe in, darling.” Lucifer’s voice cut through the panic, voice sounding too angelic for a demon like him. “Look at me, darling, I'II help you.”

You still looked at her, smile on her lips, eyes wild with angry. You whimpered, trying to put some more distance between you two.

She disapperead as soon as Lucifer placed your hand on his chest, freeing you from her mirage. “Slowly breath in!” You followed your lover's instructions, breathing through the nose at the same time as him. If anyone could save you from the darkness and the pain now, it was him. “And out- keeping going, darling, just like that.”

There was urgency in his voice you realized. But why? Why would he care when he hated you? The voices on your head had lied to you? But he also had leaved you alone - though you did the same to him just earlier, it's true.

“Breath in-” Light. It was you how would describe him, black as coal hair being lightned by a broken halo. He held onto you so softly, wiping the thick tears that you haven't even realized that were falling. You could see that he was confuse, scared even, since not even Mammon behaved like this after or during a punishment. "Everything's ok?"

The cat seemed to have caught your tongue, your head lolling forward as your entire body collapsed into his chest. Tired, that's how you felt, tired of the pain, tired of the darkness and having to remember that person.

That person who should love and protect you. That person that made your life a living hell just because she could, because it was fun, the same person whose house you would return after the exchange program.

Sobs erupted from your chest, trembling again in Lucifer's arms but from a different reason now. From exhaustion, from fear. Your arms circling his torso with enought stregth to knock him up if he was a puny and weak human. But he was not. He was not, if he was cruel like her then he would be laughing now, he would bellitle you.

He was not cruel. And he couldn't know that ignoring you would trigger such reaction. It was all your fault.

You looked at him, brows furrowed, apprehension on his eyes as he hold you, hands rubbing your sides and back. Lucifer was nothing like her, would never be like her even in a million years.

"I'm sorry." You whispered unable to formulate a better apologize. "Don't hate me, please."

Please, don't leave me. Please don't take the light away. Just please stay, you wanted to scream, want to let him know what happened. But couldn't, eyes blurry with fresh new tears, lips trembling, and Lucifer held you gently. He knew you couldn't talk right now, could see in your eyes that you were unable right now with panic and fear swimming in them - any and all reasons for your sudden outburst forgotten while he comforted you so gently.

The awful silence was replaced by your lover's loud little kisses that he peppered your face with. "It's ok, love, I've got you."

IBut you were right, he was nothing like your mother. In fact, he was worse and he recorded this entire event on his mind, replaying it, trying to find a reason why you reacted that way.

With time he could use this to shape you, could train you to never leave him, to never look at anyone else, to not even thinking any dumb throughts. He smiled, bringing you much closer than before, there on the floor, for you have fallen without realizing, hugging him, you felt safe again, felt loved, if only you realized that his love was toxic and suffocating... But it's too late now.

#yandere obey me #obey me #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x mc #yandere lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #lorkai drabble

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