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pucksandpower · 20 days

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Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

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astaroth1357 · 3 months

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I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:

Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.

I'm doing that.

Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.

Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).

Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.

As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."

Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.

Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.

Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.

#couldn't think of a better verb than Poof #stuck with it #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me crack #obey me shitpost

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r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e · 10 months

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idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

#here have some dumb shit #steddie #stranger things #yes the joe keery dirty dancing lift video is playing in my head 24/7 #mine

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pyro-chaos · 6 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…

Summary: Prologue. How it all started.

Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.

Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,

And they were roommates…

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read

-———-———

Mike knows you, but not well.

You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.

Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.

You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.

You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.

You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.

“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”

Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.

You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.

When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.

Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.

So that’s how you can afford a place like this.

Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.

Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.

You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.

You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.

Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.

You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.

He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”

He remembers how you made him chuckle.

The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.

You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.

He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.

But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.

A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.

The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?

Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.

He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.

The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.

You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.

Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.

You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.

His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.

He has fun.

He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.

A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.

Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.

Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.

You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.

Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?

You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.

He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.

Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.

Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.

He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.

So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”

You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”

Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.

“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.

“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.

Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.

He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.

He doesn’t know what to do.

So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.

Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.

Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.

“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.

“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”

“Does she have medicine?”

“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”

“Does she have chicken soup?”

Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.

“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”

His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.

That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.

Tomorrow comes too soon.

Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.

You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.

At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.

He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.

In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.

You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.

Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.

"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"

That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"

You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"

Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"

You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.

You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.

It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.

Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.

Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.

Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.

A few weeks go by.

You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.

“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”

It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.

You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.

You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”

The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.

“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”

He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.

“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”

He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.

You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”

He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.

Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.

“You wanna move in with me?!”

Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.

He has fun.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt imagine

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erenthology · 5 months

Text

a/n: nothing wrong with acne, this is self indulgent. The Eren brain rot has been taking over ever since watching the finale. Not proof read obs

Academic rival Eren who’s always made your life a living hell. while secretly obsessed with you.

Rival!Eren who flirts idly and is the most contusing person. you can never tell if he’s being serious or not.

Rival!Eren who stops you on your way out of school. “move, asshole.” of course, the life sized giant doesn’t. “did you not hear me? I called you an asshole.”

“Have dinner with me” he grins. what is wrong with him? you think. not liking the way your heart is beating 10 times faster

Rival!Eren who smiles watching you run away from him, knowing the tension isn’t one sided, and you do too

Rival!Eren who first laid eyes on you in pre school, crying because some kid had stolen your strawberry shortcake. you were both kids. Eren angrily pushed his cake on your plate, blushing when your tear streaked face thanked him

Rival!Eren who then made sure to make that guy’s life hell for the rest of the school year. You really loved your strawberry shortcake, the memory makes him laugh

Rival!Eren who slowly noticed you’re the only one keeping up with him in class. He still remembers the day you told him you’ll surpass him

Rival!Eren who then became your rival, who told the kids you had germs just so they wouldn’t take you from him and

Rival!Eren who loved you through all of your phases, and found you just as beautiful that summer you came back from break with your face covered in acne, and hair cut in a bob

Rival!Eren who couldn’t keep up with you in 8th grade because your boobs had grown so big over the summer, it was all he could focus on

Rival!Eren who nearly had a stroke when you got your first boyfriend. He even accidentally smashed the guy’s face in when he heard him talking about you in inappropriate ways

Rival!Eren who was right there to take the blame. He was fine with you hating him for the breakup, as long as you still talked to him, even if it was just to cuss him out.

Rival!Eren who was your first kiss. “If you score more than me on this, Eren, I’ll do whatever you want” you once so confidently said. he pretended to suggest the kiss as a punishment, but still reminisces over the way you both blushed and ran separate ways after the innocent pec

Rival!Eren who got accused of having a crush on you by the boys, and got so mad at the way you denied it, he started taking girls out on the dates just to get back at you

Rival!Eren who watched you slip away from him but nevertheless kept his eyes on you over the years. made sure no one was bothering you beside him

Rival!Eren knows, you know. whether you like to admit or not, you’re his. you have been since that day. he’s always been behind you, and you’ll always expect him to be

Rival!Eren who, even in collage, loves to compete with you. thrives over the fact that he has been opponent since you were both kids, and no one else

Rival!Eren who thinks you look so freaking sexy every time you score higher than him and gloat. your ego is through the roof and he loves it

Rival!Eren who also loves it when you crumble before his eyes as he exceeds you in certain subjects

Rival!Eren who goes out of his way to catch your attention. Pulling your hair in class, kicking your feet under the desk, anything, really.

Rival!Eren who touches girls, kisses them in the hallway right when you walk by just to look you in the eye and grin

“You disgust me” you mouth to him.

You’ve definitely heard rumors from girls gossiping in the school bathroom. Especially by ashley, who loves going on about the night they spent together. “Eren fucks like a god, he knows his way around a woman’s body.” bla bla bla

Rival!Eren who catches your eye in the school cafeteria. He always looks at you, but this time you really looked at him. He’s fresh out of the shower. must’ve had practice, you think. you really do love when he wraps his hair in a bun like that

Rival!Eren who stares just as intensely back at you, resisting the urge to come over and do the things he wants to. instead, he takes the opportunity to wink at you, chuckling over the way you get up and throw away your remaining food

Rival!Eren who runs after you to catch up, but is reminded of your stubbornness when you ignore his shouts, instead he wraps his hand around you and pulls your entire body towards him

Rival!Eren who leans forward and whispers, only for you to hear, “if you ever look at me like that again, I’ll come over and fuck the shit out of you in front of the whole cafeteria.”

Rival!Eren who pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and soaks in the way you’re looking it him, trying his best to force his mind of your silken lips before you visibly snap back to reality and push him away

Rival!Eren who’s eyes gleam mischief when he’s paired up with you for a project. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun” he grins, adoring the face you’re giving him

Rival!Eren who gets mad when you cut yourself on paper. “What the hell are you doing?” he says, carefully inspecting your hand

“Just tell me what to do.” he snaps, taking over

That night you both stayed until late in the library, feeling overwhelmed by all the work. there was nothing weird about Eren’s hand finding yours, and yours finding his, as you both rested your heads on the table

Rival!Eren who blames the gentleman in him when you ask why he insists on driving you back home. “you think that lowly of me?”

Rival!Eren who’s ears spike when a guy in the locker room mentions asking you out. He won’t allow it. suddenly feeling eyes on him, he notices he just smashed his first into the locker

“Uh,” needing to be smart about this, he quickly comes up with an excuse, “nah, she’s too easy, i’d get behind Ashley if I were you, trust me,” he winks. Lies. no one is better than you, but you’re his

Rival!Eren who starts insisting on coming over to your place to get the project done. Wanting to see how you live, what color your sheets are, what you wear at home

Rival!Eren who’s eyes almost fall out of its pockets when he sees your bra lying on top of your gym bag. By no means is he unfamiliar with bra’s or the female anatomy. It’s the fact that it’s yours that send his mind into an orbit

Rival!Eren who thinks you’re getting closer, so why the fuck is he seeing you with another man in a coffee shop on a saturday night?

Rival!Eren who carefully waits until Monday where he tells you he needs to talk to you. even seeing your face is making him crazy, he hates it

Rival!Eren who asks if you have a boyfriend and why you haven’t told him. you’re confused by this for two reasons, 1, you don’t have a boyfriend. 2. Why would you tell Eren?

“Tell me the truth” he demands.

How can he say that after running through half the women in your college? “The truth? I hate you, so much. wish you would just leave me alone.” you say despite the lump in your throat

Taken aback, he speaks in an unsure voice, “you hate me?” It looked like it physically hurt him to hear you say it. “Got it.”

Sighing, you realize you might’ve overreacted. despite all your bickering, you’ve never snapped at him like that before, “Eren, wait-“ but he’s already gone

Rival!Eren who starts ignoring you. He still looks, but he doesn’t mess around with you in the joking manner that he used to

Rival!Eren who’s been on your mind a lot since the fight. so much so, that you’re falling behind on school. you decide to keep this distance he created once and for all, no more back and forth

Rival!Eren who stops listening to his friends the instant he notices your saddened look. to the avarage person, you probably look fine, but he knows you.

Rival!Eren who spams your phone with texts, tries his best getting your attention during class but to no avail. Did someone hurt you? Sitting through this lecture is killing him

Rival!Eren who follows you after class, forcibly taking hold of your hand. “Eren, no.” you sigh, pulling your hand out of his grip. Annoyed, he ignores your request and takes ahold of your hand again, “what’s wrong?”

“Why is it so hard for you to leave me alone?” you yell, surprised by the force in your own voice. both you and Eren’s eyes widen at your second outburst at him

“Alright,” he nods his head, “message received” he says and finally leaves you. Despite having asked for it, panic arises in you as you turn to watch him walk away, only to see him leaning against the locker, still there

A smirk finds his face, “thought I’d leave?”

he’s hit with a surprise when you put your head on his chest and starts sobbing. And you’re left equally as shocked by the relief that fills your chest

Rival!Eren who puts his arms around you and starts stroking your back. he wants to burn the world when he sees it’s hurt you

Rival!Eren who takes you back to his dorm with no room for discussion, but makes a quick pit stop, telling you he’ll be right back and to stay in the car

“Strawberry shortcake?” The look you give him makes him want to back inside and buy you all the cake they have

Rival!Eren who acts composed but feels his heart pounding in his chest all while he drives back to his place, while he’s leaning against the door frame as you’re explore his room, and as eat your cake in silence, with him staring at you

Rival!Eren who’s sure he’s mistaken when you flat out ask to give him to have sex with you, but is quickly corrected when you direct his hand onto the soft flesh of your boob

Rival!Eren who’s fingers act on their own, moulding and squeezing as he regains composure, “hold on, you’ve never done this before, right?”

“No.” you shake your head.

Rival!Eren who grabs ahold of your chin as a smile creeps up on his face , “good.” he’s going to teach you everything. but not today

Rival!Eren who’s thumb plays with the button of your jeans as he asks if you’re going to stop running away from him. loving the way you shy from his question

the way you hesitate makes him want to devour you whole. “I’ll kiss you if you don’t say yes” he leans forward to tease

“C’mon, hurry.”

“Yes.” you barely breathe out before he leans in and kisses the hell out of you. then proceeds to unzip your clothes

Rival!Eren who has the longest make out session of his life, making sure to prepare you by playing with every part of your body

Rival!Eren who’s soaking in the way your face twists into pleasure when he twists and turns his fingers inside of you, telling you to calm down and trust him

Rival!Eren who he talks you through your orgasm, flicks his tongue on your pulse point and whispers, “no one has ever touched you here before, right?”

Rival!Eren who holds you face in his hands after making you come, kissing you once, kissing you again, again, and again. he can’t stop stealing kisses from you, it feels like he’s been robbed of this his whole life.

Rival!Eren who declines your request for him to fuck you. only for you to get mad and get up looking for your clothes

“Yeah, but you’ll fuck every other girl passing by.”

Rival!Eren who laughs and drags your ass back down on his lap, he’s not letting you get away again. not a chance in hell

“You’re gonna belive rumors, baby? thought you were my smart girl.”

“Look, I may not be a virgin, but I might as well be. you’re the only girl Ive ever wanted. it’s not an excuse, it’s a fact. And I’ll keep showing it to you until one day you’ll believe it.”

Rival!Eren who promises to take your virginity one day, but not today.

#idk why a dark academia rival Eren possesed my mind today but i MIGHT write a part 2 for the virginity #eren smut #attack on titan eren #eren #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger #just in the clouds for eren #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader

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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months

Text

the rooms are all on fire (every time that you walk in)

// melissa has a thing for her new neighbor, but she refuses to let it go too far because of the age difference. though, the redhead might realize how deep her feelings go once it’s too late. //

warnings: insecure!melissa, reader is so painfully in love with melissa it’s hilarious, melissa is an idiot who can’t handle emotions, pining, mutual pining, jealous!reader, jealous!melissa, brief gary x melissa (they go on one date), reader is in her twenties.

melissa knows right away that she doesn’t like you. you’re too young, too loud, too perky, too nice. you had moved in across the hall from her a couple months ago, and had knocked on her door the same day you moved in. you had this big smile on your face, along with this large tupperware of brownies. though, in your defense it had not been a good day for melissa. her ex husband had just revealed he had an affair while they were still married, and even though she no longer loved joe, it still hurt.

“who the hell are you?” she asks, as soon as she swings the door open. your smile doesn’t even falter, and it’s the most annoying thing melissa has ever seen. “i’m y/n! i just moved into the apartment across the hall. i just wanted to introduce myself and give you these.” your western accent indicated you were far from home, and the positive energy radiating off of you only seemed to put melissa in a worse mood than she already was. you hand her the tupperware of brownies, and she scowls.

“we don’t really introduce ourselves to neighbors ‘round here. your lucky you didn’t knock on 402’s door. he’s a creep.” she mutters as she takes the tub of sweets. “oh. thanks for the warning.” you joke, and you tilt your head to side, “i never got your name.” you add and she snorts. “cause i never gave it, kid.” she responds curtly before shutting the door right in your face.

that was your first impression of melissa. it was enough to make any sane person steer clear of her… but you weren’t necessarily a sane woman. you were usually up before eleven every morning to go on a run or do a small workout. one morning you wake up extra early, and catch the redhead in the elevator. you don’t appear to notice the way her eyes roam up your tight leggings, and small zipped up sweater that clung to your body. “good morning, neighbor.” you greet her, and she keeps this stone cold expression etched onto her features.

“morning.” she flatly responds, clearly uninterested. “did you like the brownies?” you inquire curiously, as the elevator door closes behind you. “i’m not a fan of chocolate. i prefer pumpkin or apple.” she bluntly replies, and you don’t let her attitude discourage you. in fact, you visibly pep up at the newly found information. “i love pumpkin cinnamon rolls. next time i make some, i’ll bring some over for you.” you say, as the elevator door opens. “i’ll see ya around, neighbor! have a good day.” you call out as you rush towards the exit of the building. melissa rolls her eyes as the elevator doors close, and she continues her way to the parking garage.

your perkiness in the mornings was something melissa couldn’t adjust to. she didn’t want to. as soon as you realized the redhead was in the elevator every morning at 7:20, you were there as well. it was borderline obsessive in the redheads opinion, and she couldn’t stand that dopey grin on your face whenever you’d see her. it was like clockwork. she’d get in the elevator, click on the floor for the parking garage, and you’d squeeze in before the doors closed. she was beginning to consider taking the stairs.

she wasn’t sure how you knew when she was home, but on friday evening, she was in the middle of making dinner when a knock on the door caused her to knock over an open bottle of water. “shit! fuck— i’m comin’!” she yells out frustratedly as she makes her way to the front door. when she opens it, there you are with that stupid smile on your face. this time you’re holding a plate with a large slice of sweet bread on it, with icing slathered on top. it was saran wrapped cutely on the white plate.

“pumpkin cinnamon bread, with cream cheese icing.” your voice is light, and you’re gazing up at her with these big innocent eyes; just begging for her approval. there’s hopefulness laced into your orbs, and not even melissa has the heart to turn this away. “pumpkin in april… thanks kid.” she mutters, and if she thought your smile was big before… it seems to illuminate with her backhanded compliment. maybe it was the fact that one of her favorite students made her a painting in art class, and she was feeling particularly mushy today.

“you like pasta?” she asks you blandly, still sounding indifferent about your sudden intrusion on her dinner making. you nod eagerly, “yup! i haven’t had it in ages though… i don’t know any good italian spots around here, and i can’t cook to save my life.” you confess sheepishly, and she nods as she turns around and disappears into the apartment. she leaves her door wide open, and you stand there, clearly confused. “well, what ‘re you waiting for? come in, dinners almost ready.” she commands, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“unless you got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to see how shocked you look. you shake your head quickly, “nope! it was just gonna be me and the takeout guy tonight.” you half joke, as you walk in, shutting the door behind you. you go quiet as you stand behind the counter, and melissa wipes up the water she had spilled earlier. she turns her head to see you glancing around the room, clearly nervous. it’s the quietest she’s ever heard you. “what? place not what you expected?” she asks, and your eyes lock with hers.

“i just… i didn’t think i’d get to see the inside of your place before i got to know your name.” you admit, and melissa can feel an uncontrollable smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “my names melissa.” she confesses, and your eyes go all soft at the revelation. “melissa… huh. that’s a pretty name. it suits you.” you blurt aloud, and she turns away to check on the pasta, hiding the blush that coats her cheeks.

melissa learns quite a bit about you after that. you’re twenty-four, you had lived in the west coast all your life, and you spent your teenage years stuck taking care of your grandma and siblings. the more melissa discovers about you, the harder it is for her to hate you. your kindness isn’t fake or falsified like most of the people around here; you speak every word with genuineness and sincerity. a routine seems to progress between the two of you; every friday evening you knock on her door with some new platter of sweets, and melissa proceeds to invite you in for dinner.

every friday turns into every other day, and before she knows it, you two are having dinner together every night. the redhead went from hating you, to enjoying your presence more than anyone else’s. at first, melissa assumed she simply enjoyed your company because she was lonely. but after a few months of you, she quickly realized what the little flutter in her belly meant whenever she’d see you. melissa’s head would grow fuzzy whenever you complimented her, and she turned into a blushing mess. not to mention how she couldn’t necessarily hide how happy she was to see you now.

she’d pick out a bottle of wine, and makes different recipes she thinks you’d like. she finds herself humming along to old italian songs as she cooks, waiting for the gentle knocks on her door.

tonight you brought her new york cheesecake with raspberry filling on top. you greet her as you push past her, placing the cake onto her counter. “i know, cheesecake is so bad for our health, but i had a terrible day.” you tell her, and you begin to ramble about how awful your boss is. though, all melissa can do is take in how absolutely beautiful you are. the way your hair falls, and moves as you talk with the emotions you wear on your face. when you don’t get a response from melissa for awhile, you look over and see her leaning against the door, staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“what? what’s wrong?” you question, she offers you a gentle shake of her head. “you’re really beautiful, you know that?” she blurts out, her entire demeanor changing as soon as she realizes what she just said. her eyes go wide as she stands up straight, instead of looking appalled or surprised, the blood rises to your face. a shy grin plasters itself onto your face, as you push your hair behind your ears before gazing at her like some shy schoolgirl. “you’re calling me beautiful? have you seen yourself?” you ask her, and that’s the moment that seems to solidify it for melissa.

the way her heartbeat picks up as the words leave your lips, and something in the pit of her stomach bursts, as if a million cocoons hatched into butterflies inside of her. she began to feel something she hasn’t felt since before she married joe. she couldn’t believe some western twenty something year old kid was making her feel this way.

you appear to be able to read melissa like an open book. she doesn’t have to tell you how she’s feeling for you to know. you’re the only person who’s ever been able to figure her out, and it’s scary. melissa also wasn’t an idiot. she could tell judging by the gleam of adoration in your eyes, you were growing quite the crush on her. sometimes she wonders why. you’re in your twenties, you’re hot, and you know how to bake a mean banana cream pie… melissa also sees how the doorman and a variety of other men ogle you in the mornings. you could have anyone you want, yet you spend your evenings eating melissa’s various italian recipes.

however, the redhead is very closed off. especially romantically. after joe, she’s dated around but nobody’s ever gotten a second date. she hasn’t been so intimate with someone in so long, even before her divorce, the marriage was falling apart. dinner every night was not an option for her and joe; he always came home late, and by the time he arrived his plate of leftovers were in the microwave. even when he’d be home while she was cooking, he’d eat in the living room in front of the tv. you were so enthralled by melissa, sometimes you could hardly focus on the food with how much attention you paid her.

she tries to hide the way she revels in your attention, and how the glimmer in your eyes directed towards her causes those stupid butterflies inside of her to repopulate. “you do not actually have random baseball bats around your apartment…” you trail off one evening, as you’re both sitting on melissa’s comfortable couch. there’s a glass of wine in each of your hands; you’re both on your second glass, and you’re sure it’s the expensive wine melissa keeps locked away. it makes you feel special when she puts so much thought into the dinners you two share. they mean something to you, and you’re positive they mean something to her as well.

“i do. they’re hidden around.” she explains, taking a sip of her wine. you let out a genuine giggle; your wide eyed gaze is pouring right into her, nobody’s ever looked at her with such reverence. something then flickers in her eyes as she remembers something; “speaking of… i’ve been meaning to give you one. ya look like you can’t swing for shit, but it’s better than ya having nothing to defend yourself with.” melissa rambles as she stands up, disappearing into her bedroom. your brows knit together in slight confusion as you wait for her to return.

when she does, she has a medium sized wooden bat. it was dark wood and looked brand new. “wait, you were serious?” you ask, letting out a breathless little chuckle. “you live on a questionable part of town, by yourself, y/n. you barely even forget to lock your door when you come over.” she scolds, sounding undoubtedly upset by the fact. your baffled features quickly morph into a soft expression, “you worried about me, lissa?” you tauntingly ask, and she lets out this vexed huff, waving the wooden bat closer to you.

“just take the damn thing and keep it by your bed.” she commands, while you gladly accept the strange but thoughtful gift. “it’ll make you feel safer.” she adds, her neck burning as you stare at her with a vulnerable look on your face. “okay. but i’ll have you know i’ve never felt safer than knowing my tough, kick ass neighbor is right across the hall.” you assure her, and something inside of melissa is slipping; whether it’s her resolve or the walls she so desperately tries to keep up. “thanks for worrying about me though. i worry about you too.” you clarify, and melissa would normally scoff at a comment like that.

she’d shake her head and demand for you to know she can take care of herself… but she can’t. as you stare into her eyes with the sole intent of wanting her to understand how much she means to you, melissa finds herself taking a seat beside you again, deciding to let the comment slide. maybe she enjoyed knowing someone as sweet as you cared about her. it’s been so long since anyone’s cared for her in this way; it was sort of foreign to her by now. yet it was also comforting.

though melissa often found herself thinking about what things would be like when you finally met somebody. if you’d opt to spending your evenings with your new girlfriend or boyfriend… if you’d look at them with the same gaze you’d look at her with. some evenings she’d catch herself staring at you, and she’d think of being in the shoes of some younger woman… someone who can give you the start at life that you need. you’re in your early twenties, and there’s no way you’d ever want someone old and used up like melissa.

so naturally, the night you invite melissa to your place for dinner instead of just heading to hers… she feels an odd bundle of nerves knotting up in her stomach. she changes after work; which is something she never does. she puts on that sundress she likes to wear when she’s feeling good about herself. as soon as you open the door, your eyes nearly bug out of your head. you have a grease stain on your cheek, she assumes it’s some kind of cooking oil. the apron you’re wearing is hiding the tight top and jeans you’re wearing underneath, but melissa thinks you’ve never looked more cute.

“you’re early! i— i’m still making dinner, please sit down.” you urge her, and melissa offers you that soft smile that seems to only be reserved for you these days. she looks around your place; taking in the pictures on the walls, and the flatscreen that’s too big in melissa’s opinion. she barely watches tv, and when she does it’s in bed on her phone. “yeah, i left a little early because ava hired some of the teachers some new assistants.” she tells you, and you cock a brow, flashing her an amused grin. “an assistant? how do you like that?” you question curiously, knowing how difficult it was for the redhead to warm up to new people.

she snorts, “the kids fine. she’s a little younger than you. can’t understand a word she says but the kids like her.” she murmurs, shrugging, before she looks over at you. you’re stirring whatever’s in the pot, and she quirks a brow. “you actually might like her.” melissa’s comment rolls off your back easily, you don’t seem to notice the difference in her tone. you laugh lightly, “i doubt that. i’ve never gotten along with girls that well. guys either.” you confess, and melissa snorts. “oh yeah, sure, the girl who makes conversation with the mailman doesn’t have any friends. who do you think you’re lying to here, kid?” she questions, and you frown, rolling your eyes. “i’m not a kid. and just because i know how to make conversation with people, doesn’t mean i have a lot of friends.” your voice is light, and lacks any sort of defense or malice.

melissa sort of envies how easy it is for you to talk about things. “i mean, even in high school i had like three friends. they all still live back home, and we talk from time to time but it’s not like we can just hang out every weekend, you know?” you begin to ramble as you stir the searing food in the pan. “you’re the only person who i hang out with, and i’m lucky you even wanna hang out with me.” you add half jokingly, and you turn to see an inscrutable expression etched onto the older woman’s face.

“anyone would wanna hang out with you… i mean one day you’re gonna find someone who can’t stay away from you.” melissa says in an abnormally gentle way, there’s a hint of sadness in her voice and you cock a brow at the redhead. “does it count if i’ve already found someone i can’t stay away from? i’m literally making beef stroganoff for her, and i almost burned down the kitchen twice just to impress her.” you admit, and on cue whatever is in the pan begins smoking.

melissa’s eyes widen as a blush coats her beautiful face. she rushes over to your side, “jesus, y/n! why didn’t you tell me you wanted beef stroganoff? i could make this in my sleep!” she begins to shoo you away, and you frown, shaking your head stubbornly. “because you always make dinner; i wanted to cook for you.” your fervent voice causes melissa’s heart to lurch in her chest. “i don’t just cook for just anybody, yanno’? i cook for you because i like ya, and don’t know how else to show it. i’m not all sweet like you.” she clarifies, and your heartbeat quickens as her words sink in.

she’s trying her hardest to avoid your eyes, and you can’t help the uncontrollable blush on your cheeks. “you like me?” you ask her, and she rolls her eyes. “like it wasn’t obvious when i cooked mac n cheese as a main dish. seriously, kid, your taste buds are strange.” she mutters, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the grin on your face. “yeah, well, as strange as my palette is, you like me.” you taunt her, and notice the way her focused stirring falters ever so slightly. she scoffs, forcing an exasperated expression on her face.

“don’t make me take it back.” she murmurs, and you can’t seem to stop grinning at her like an idiot.

the seasons change and so do things between you and melissa. it isn’t a significant enough change for you to mention it, but it is enough for you to feel the difference. melissa is so soft, and carefree around you now. before she was so tough and prickly; she’s still a bit prickly but you don’t mind getting poked in order to see her true self every now and then. you two appear to be doing this slow dance around the obvious feelings you have for one another.

melissa is way more reluctant than you are. she hates the way her mind works, but it’s not like she can control it. usually how cute and thoughtful you are washes away any doubts she has about herself, except for one day she runs out parsley, and has to run to the store. of course you offer to come along with her, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater and excitedly trotting by her side.

“you sure you don’t need anything else from here? you’re running out of juice.” you remind her and she mentally scolds herself. “you’re right! thanks hun.” she sweetly thanks you, making your face hot as she reaches for the orange juice. you both make your way to the checkout line, and you aimlessly look around at the chocolates. “y/n! hey!” a familiar voice causes you and melissa to turn around. you eyebrows rises slightly as you run into a woman who you went on a few dates with when you first moved here.

“tracy! hey!” you greet her, and she hugs you before you can even think. melissa is watching the interaction like a hawk, and as soon as the raven haired girl hugs you, there’s a burning sensation of pure rage deep rooted in her belly. her eyes narrow as “tracy” pulls away from you, and looks at you as if she wants to ravish you in the supermarket. “you never called me again! i had a lot of fun mini-golfing with you.” she says, and you sheepishly rub the back of your neck, clearly racking your brain for a flimsy excuse.

that’s when realization hits melissa; you dated this woman! the thought alone nearly makes her scoff. this was your type? mid-twenties, soft skin, hippie wannabe? “i just got really busy adjusting to living here and all that… but how are you?” you try to steer the subject away from the awkward final date you hated. it wasn’t fun for you; you had to force yourself to be some cool girl you clearly weren’t. “i’m good! how are you? what are you up to tonight?” she asks hopefully, and you smile.

“i’m good as well. this is melissa, we’re here picking up some parsley for dinner tonight.” you introduce the redhead, and tracy’s demeanor immediately shifts as she assumes the older woman is your girlfriend. “oh. hi, i’m tracy.” she introduces herself to the grade school teacher, holding out her hand for the second grade teacher to shake. melissa only nods curtly in in tracy’s direction, “hey.” she flatly responds. and you notice the tension in the air right away. “well, it was nice seeing you again, tracy.” you say suggestively, and tracy nods.

“yeah, you too. you should call me sometime.” she squeezes your arm before she leaves, and melissa looks as though she wants to murder you with her eyes. “next.” the checkout clerk calls out, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts. she places the orange juice and parsley down much harder than she intended; it even causes the middle-aged man to jump slightly. “rough day?” he questions with a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood. melissa shoots daggers at him with her eyes, causing his smile to fall as he clears his throat.

he scans the items quickly, “that’ll be $8.97.” he states; not a single slick remark left in him. melissa inserts her card, finishing the transaction without another word. she storms out of the supermarket with you in tow, trying to catch up to her as you follow her to her car. when you’re both strapped in, the car starts and the ride is quiet for the first minute and a half. you hate awkward silences, especially with her. “i honestly forgot i even tried dating when i first moved here.” you pipe up.

“well maybe now you can give her a call, since you’re no longer busy and adjusting.” she mocks your lame excuse from a few minutes ago, and you frown. “i didn’t— the reason i didn’t call her back wasn’t because i was adjusting—“ you try to explain yourself, but melissa cuts you off. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. we’re friends, i don’t care who you go on lousy dates with.” her voice is harsh, and it’s a tone you recognize all too well. it’s the same one she uses when she used to have her walls up high, refusing to let you get even a glimpse into her mind.

she doesn’t allow you to tell her it was solely because you didn’t want to call tracy again. the dates were terrible; the entire time you were just pretending to be someone you’re not. you only forced yourself to go because you had been living here for a month, and hadn’t made a single friend. melissa stubbornly cooks dinner, and the conversation through the night is short. you aren’t used to it, and it hurts. but you convince yourself tomorrow she’ll be ready to talk about it.

but the next morning, melissa must’ve left for work earlier than usual because you don’t see her in the elevator. you text her to have a good day, but never get a response. throughout the day you can’t help but think about her, and you wonder why she became so closed off after finding out about your meaningless dates with tracy. you understood she might’ve been a little jealous; sometimes you got jealous whenever she spoke about joe. but she seemed so genuinely upset, all you wanted to do was figure out what was going through her head.

you decide to make her some pumpkin carrot cake before heading to her apartment for dinner. it’s nearly six when you’re finished, and you place it in a tupperware nicely for her. you’re practicing in your head what you want to say to her tonight, and how you should assess the situation. by the time you knock on her door you have a simple smile on your face, and the door swings open, the sight nearly causing your eyes to bug out of their sockets.

melissa was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her body perfectly, and enhanced every single curve. the exposed cleavage caused you to force your eyes on hers in order not to sneak a longer peak. your hopeful smile falls a bit when you notice the hard expression on her face. before she can even ask you anything, you begin blabbering like you usually do. “look, i know you said we’re just friends, but there’s more to us than just that… we both know it. we may not have ever talked about it or what it means, but i haven’t dated anyone since this started…” you ramble, and melissa’s eyes soften for a split second, her hard facade slipping as a wave of panic washes over her.

“y/n—“ she tries, but the voice behind her is interrupting, causing your heart to fall right into your stomach. “everything okay, red?” a deep, unfamiliar voice asks, causing you to freeze. melissa suddenly has this unrecognizable expression of regret on her face. “y-yeah everything’s fine, gar.” she says back, “gary? as in the vending machine guy who’s been flirting with you all year, gary?” you ask in disbelief, and a slight bit of anger is mixed into your voice. she had been so upset about you going on a few dates with tracy before you two were even friends, and now she was here having a romantic dinner with gary. you could even smell the type of food she made him.

“he’s been asking me all year, and i decided since it’s been awhile since i’ve been on a date, i should get back out there.” melissa says the words she’s practiced saying to you in her head. she knew you’d come over today, you always do. she knew you’d see her with gary, and maybe she wanted that. she wanted you to feel how she felt when she saw you and tracy. though as you stare up at her with this kicked puppy-dog expression, she knows you aren’t feeling what she was feeling yesterday. you’re just straight up hurt and it’s written all over your face.

you glance down at the stupid dessert you spent all afternoon perfecting. “well, this is for you, because i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i can see now you weren’t upset at all.” you have to force yourself to speak, and you surprisingly hold it together as you shove the tupperware in melissa’s hands. you turn to walk back into your apartment, and a wave of regret flashes over the redhead. melissa reaches out for you, “y/n, wait—“ a firm but soft hand wraps around your wrist, but you pull it away from her as you spin around and flash her a dejected look. the sight breaks her heart in two.

“it’s fine. you were right; we’re friends. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i don’t care who you go on dates with.” you throw the words back in her face, and there’s a flicker of emotions on her face but you turn away and disappear into your apartment. melissa stands there staring at your door; she looks down at the cake in her hands and she hates how tight her chest gets. it’s like her heart might pop in her chest. she doesn’t feel the way she thought she would, and suddenly she mentally curses herself for thinking it’d feel good to hurt you.

melissa is off her game at work the next day. she texts you, and for the first time since you two became friends, you’re the one who doesn’t reply. the redhead realizes she made a mistake. instead of talking about her insecurities or how hurt she was when she saw you and tracy, she ended up jumping the gun and going out with the safest option. gary.

in truth she did like gary; maybe not enough to want to date him, but she found him moderately attractive. she also thought he was pretty funny, and he appears to like her a lot. though none of that was anything compared to what she felt for you. melissa could not stop thinking about you and that hurt face of yours all day. she even decides to cook your favorite food for dinner.

but when six-thirty rolls around, and you still haven’t knocked on her door, there’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. melissa huffs as she looks at the dinner she prepared, and thought of it going to waste angered her. or maybe it was the thought of you just standing her up, even though it’s not like she personally invited you tonight. maybe you think she’s with gary again.

usually melissa is very stubborn, and she would never consider going across the hall and begging you… but she can’t get you out of her damn head. so she takes her ass straight to your door, not even bothering to close hers. she knocks on your door vigorously, not stopping once until the door swings open to reveal you. your hair is damp, and you’re in an old oversized tee shirt; the printing was faded but the hem reached just below your thighs. melissa had to refrain herself from gazing down at your smooth legs.

“i cooked dinner and you’re ready for bed, what gives?” she questions, hating how she sounds like a petulant child. you look a bit surprised to see her, “don’t you have a date with gary and his mustache?” you ask a bit bitterly, and melissa scowls. “it was just dinner, y/n.” the redhead says, and you gaze up into her eyes. “dinner like we have?” you ask, and she huffs in response. “that’s different and you know it! you said it yourself yesterday, there’s more to us than just that.” she reminds you.

“i was clearly wrong.” you sound abnormally stubborn, and melissa sighs in frustration. “i’m not going to see gary again, kid. so just come on over and sit down for dinner.” she commands, and you shake your head defiantly.

“no.” you retort, and she raises a brow, obviously shocked by the disobedience. “no?” she asks you in the warning tone she uses whenever one of her students is testing her. “that’s right, i’m saying no. ever since this started, i’ve always done what you say. i go at your pace, i wake up earlier just to see you, i don’t bake anything with chocolate because you hate chocolate. did you know it’s my favorite? i do whatever you ask to satisfy you. i put my feelings to the side, just to make sure yours are valid. all for my efforts to be outweighed by a guy who restocks the gushers in the vending machine.” you stress, sounding reasonably upset.

“why did you even get so upset about tracy the other day if you were planning on going out with gary? i don’t understand you.” you add, and the dam melissa built to keep her emotions in abruptly bursts. “exactly! you don’t understand me! you’re this young kid who has her whole life to look forward to. this is just a passing moment in your life; this apartment, this city, our dinners, me.” her voice lowers, “you got your whole life ahead of ya, you shouldn’t waste it tryin’ ta’ understand me. you should be dating girls like tracy who are equipped with all sorts of emotions, and able to give you what you need.” she adds, and you frown as she pours her heart out to you. she appears to be full of regret, and vulnerability.

“and what exactly do i need, lissa?” you can’t help but ask, and she runs her fingers through her soft red locks. “you need someone who’ll take care of ya, and show ya how much they care about you. you need someone who isn’t old and afraid of what everyone else thinks. maybe someone who wouldn’t completely embarrass the shit out of ya whenever you decide to take them back to your hometown…” she trails off, now she’s avoiding your eyes and the abnormal, unconfident demeanor causes you to frown. you practically worship the ground melissa walks on; even if she didn’t know it, you were completely enamored by her. it frustrates you to know she doesn’t put herself on a similar pedestal.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on. when i met you, i felt this instant pull that i had never felt before. god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you, and it makes me so mad that you don’t think of yourself that way. i love you, you know? everything about you; the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile, the way you curse when you’re angry, your southern philly accent… that irritated frown on your face whenever you’re upset.” you begin to get lost in your words, the space between you both getting smaller and unnoticed. her heart palpitates as you rave on and on about her with this genuine expression of stringent affection.

“you have all these amazing qualities, and you sell yourself short. you’re the best freakin’ cook in the world; the best and sexiest teacher in the world; you’re tough as nails; you have this energy that follows you, it’s fierce and warm. just like you. and as for your age, it’s hard for me too…” the last comment makes her eyes harden, and you’re quick to add, “… but it’s not because i think you’re old, mel. it’s because sometimes i feel like you don’t think of me as your equal. you just think of me as this young kid who’s a burden. but i know who i am, and what i want. i keep a memory of everything you do in the back of my head, and the space in my mind you take up is only getting bigger and bigger. you’re it for me, i’m positive, because how can i see anyone else when you’re engraved in my mind and heart?” you ask her, pouring your whole heart out to her.

your eyes widen when you see the tears threatening to fall from her delicate green eyes. “that’s— that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me… you— that was more romantic than the vows at my wedding…” melissa’s voice cracks and she tries to put on that stony facade, but it doesn’t work. your words seemed to have broken one of the steel walls she puts up; it’s crumbled into millions of pieces and left her exposed in front of you. her eyes are unguarded and her expression is fragile. she feels so small.

“you can’t just say things like that!” she snaps, her voice higher than usual. you shake your head, “why not? you deserve to hear more good things about yourself, and i can go on all night.” you sheepishly admit, and melissa’s eyes soften when they meet yours. “you really feel that way about me? even though i’m probably older than your mom?” she half jokes, but the self-doubt is leaking through her tone. “you are definitely way hotter than my mother.” you mutter, and melissa gasps but can’t manage to fight to the grin that’s tugging at her lips.

“gee kid, you feel all of that for me and have never even tried ta’ kiss me? what gives?” you can hear the genuine curiosity behind the playful question, and your cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you wanted me. i mean, yesterday when i saw you with hulk hogan—“ she cuts in, “gary.” she corrects and you scowl cutely, “whatever. when i saw you with him it kind of reminded me you’re a woman who needs someone to take care of you and i… i’m just a kid.” you look down at your sock covered feet, and before you can even think about anything else, melissa is cupping your face and making you face her.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and the butterflies in your belly begin to repopulate one by one. she pulls away before you can think twice, “you’re not just a kid to me. you’re a good person, y/n. i’m sorry i was so immature about everything.” she sounds ashamed, but the sincerity in her voice makes your heart speed up. your cheeks burn and maybe the kiss sweetened you up a bit. “it’s okay, lissa. i understand… next time just talk to me.” you assure her and she smirks. “or i can just kiss ya again and see where that gets me.” she half jokes, making you grin.

“or that too.”

#melissa schemmenti x fem reader #melissa schemmenti x fem reader angst #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter x reader

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wileys-russo · 4 months

Note

Alessia Russo

“You can’t leave me like this!”

alessia russo

"you're not seeing less tonight?" your room mate asked in surprise as you appeared in your living room in your pyjamas. "no she has a big game tomorrow, part of our agreement is that she gets a good nights sleep beforehand. otherwise we stay up talking for hours and i get the blame if she plays bad!" you chuckled collapsing onto the sofa.

the two of you bickered about what to get for dinner for awhile until you eventually settled on chinese, your roommate stepping out to call and order as you browsed through your shared netflix to watch list.

"rom com?" you called out, the girl giving you a thumbs up as she continued to order, ending the call and joining you again on the sofa. the two of you agreeing on a movie you patiently awaited your food to arrive, commentating through the film to one another as usual.

but no sooner had you paid and thanked the delivery driver did your phone ring, your girlfriends contact popping up as you shoved a spring roll into your mouth and clicked accept.

"hi baby!" you greeted once you'd swallowed your mouthful, nodding as your roommate dished you up a plate adding in a little bit of everything. "lessi whats wrong?" you asked, her lack of returned greeting causing you some concern.

"can you come over please?" the girl requested as your eyebrows furrowed. "why whats happened?" you stepped out of the room as your roommate gave you a questioning look and you dismissed it with a wave.

"theres an intruder." "what!" "yeah, can you just come over please?" "of course love i'll call the police on my way. are you safe??"

"police? i don't need the police." alessia spoke as you paused, frown deepnding even further. "lessi im a little confused here." you entered your room and shrugged on a puffer over the top of your hoodie.

"a spider babe, theres a huge fucking black spider and i need you to come kill it please." alessia clarified as you sighed in relief that there was no real danger. "just hit it with a shoe less you've got about a hundred pairs." you chuckled, pausing with one arm in and one arm out of your puffers.

"no! please baby its massive like im talking enormous and its in the bedroom so i won't be able to sleep!" alessia whined much to your amusement, the taller girl often boasting how much stronger and faster she was than you and making fun of your notable height difference.

"thought you were just so big and strong and athletic babe? euro winner can't kill a little itty bitty spider?" you cooed mockingly, shoving your other arm in your jacket. "shut up! just get here and help me please." with that the call beeped that she'd ended it.

"just put mine in the fridge, i'll be back in an hour tops." you sighed to your roommate quickly catching her up on the call as she let out a laugh, wrapping up your plate for you as you called out goodbye and grabbed your car keys.

ignoring the three calls from your girlfriend you drove over to her flat which was about twenty minutes from your own, pulling up in the driveway to find her stood on the front steps with her arms wrapped around herself.

"alessia its freezing are you stupid?" you huffed at her lack of clothing as she rolled her eyes. "all my jackets and hoodies are in the bedroom." the blonde frowned as she let the two of you into her place, taking your puffer for you.

"right. where is it then?" you sighed tiredly, stomach rumbling as your girlfriend handed you a shoe and a can of bug spray, pushing you toward her bedroom. "thanks babe." you grumbled flicking her a glare over your shoulder.

carefully pushing open her door you stuck your head in and looked around, stepping properly inside with a frown as you looked around but came up empty handed.

"it's gone." you shrugged returning to where your girlfriend sat waiting on the sofa. "you killed it?" the striker perked up with a grin, balling your hoodie in her fists and tugging you down on top of her. "i love you i love you i love you i love-" she started to kiss all over your face making you blush.

"no baby, it's gone as in i can't see it anywhere." you clarified as she stopped, pushing you to sit up with legs straddling her hips. "what! well go look for it then." the blonde ordered pointing back to her room with a huff.

"no! alessia its probably gone back outside again, i am not turning your entire room upside down to look for a spider. i love you very much but i've got dinner waiting for me and i'm starving." you leaned down to kiss her sweetly before standing up off of her.

"you can't leave me like this!" your girlfriend hurried after you, snatching your keys off the hook and holding them out of your reach. "less!" you groaned, smacking her chest and stretching for them but it was a fruitless task given she easily stood head and shoulders taller.

"you can't leave me alone what if its just waiting for you to leave before it appears again?" alessia challenged with a raised eyebrow. "its a spider alessia i don't think its got a personal vendetta against you." you chuckled, keys still held out of your reach.

"what if it comes back though? i'm not sleeping in there with it in hiding!" alessia decided firmly as you sighed and dropped your arm. "then sleep on the sofa baby, please gimme my keys im hungry!" you groaned, poking her stomach with a hufff.

"good. you can stay here tonight and i'll cook you something now while you go look for that little eight legged intruder." alessia dropped your keys on top of her book shelf well out of your reach. "what? no!" you protested, trying to reach for the keys.

"yes. or you leave the spider to its business and we sleep on the lounge together." you let out a yell as your girlfriend suddenly grabbed you, hauling you over her shoulder and wandering to the kitchen.

"you know this display of athleticism really doesn't do anything to erase the fact you're scared of a tiny weeny spider and forced me to come over and kill it." you smacked her behind before she sat you down on the counter.

"well you didn't even do that, some girlfriend you are." alessia sighed with a shake of her head as she moved to look through her refrigerator to cook you something as you scoffed at her comment.

"where you going? you can't leave love." alessia chuckled with a smug smile as you narrowed your eyes.

"i'm gonna go and catch that spider and then i'm gonna throw it on you while you sleep."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso community #alessia russo #woso blurbs

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jjksblackgf · 9 months

Text

cherry flavored | jjk (m)

pairing — jeon jungkook x reader summary — You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place. genre — smut, pwp, established relationship rate — 18+ word count — 1.6k warnings — explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating.

The empty bottles of wine filled the center of the dining table, and the cheese platter was almost gone. Jungkook, with an arm around your shoulder, sat by your side at the dinner table, and your friend group filled the rest of the seats.

The laughter surrounded the apartment, and your friends filled you with joy.

“Can I help you clean up?” One friend asked you, and through her eyes, you could see she needed to talk.

“Sure thing,” you agreed. She asked your friend Alicia to join you in the kitchen before she started to talk.

“Guy, I need your help,” she said, nervous.

“Shoot,” you prompted.

“I’m dating this guy, and he’s got the biggest stamina ever!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what to do. I need to get some sleep,” she finished whispering. You had to giggle at that.

“What is your dating life?” Alicia asked her, finishing the last of her wine. “The last guy didn’t know how to make you cum, and now this?”

“Everything in excess is bad for you, you know.”

“You need to control the situation,” you said. “Get him as hard as he can and only let him finish once you’re satisfied. That’s how I do it with Jungkook. Less than five minutes of blowjob and he’s done for. I usually do that when I want to speed things up.”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook appeared in the kitchen with some more plates for the dishwasher.

“Did you figure out what they are talking about?” Jeremy, your coworker, butted in the conversation, walking into the kitchen too.

“This one right here,” Jungkook said pointing to you, “just said that sometimes things need speeding up,” he said, frantic.

“What things?” Jeremy asked.

“In the boudoir,” Alicia clarified.

“Oh, my man!” Jeremy shouted, hugging Jungkook sideways. “Be my personal trainer, man. I need that stamina,” Jeremy slurred his words and the girls giggled.

“That’s rich coming from you, since you can’t take your hands off me,” Jungkook said. His face was full of emotion. Betrayal and cockiness were the most prominent.

“I can too,” you countered. Your friends just stood there, turning their heads from you to Jungkook and back.

“Alright, prove it. We’ll clock it. Whoever lasts longer wins.”

“You’re being such a virgo now,” Alicia commented.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. And with that, you shook hands.

Even though your friends were fully entertained, they had to leave eventually. Jeremy wished Jungkook good luck, and he rolled his eyes. The dishes were clean, the wine stained tablecloth was in the washer, and you were done.

“High five for the cleaning crew,” Jungkook said, already offering both of his hands. You complied, and he used the opportunity to pull you to his chest and kiss your lips. “Shout out to us.”

“Shout out to us,” you agreed, pecking his lips.

“Want to go to the boudoir?” He asked, mocking Alicia’s tone. “I want to set a record from the jump.” You had to roll your eyes at that. “I promise I won’t gloat.”

“Let’s see how you perform,” you challenged.

You woke up after a blissful night, still riding the high of an orgasm before a good night’s sleep. 6 minutes and 12 seconds. You were ashamed. If you were to guess, you’d say at least 10 minutes. But he’s good. Really good. With a tongue of the gods.

Jungkook shifted in his bed, stretching loudly and with a sinful smile. He woke up feeling himself. He didn’t gloat with his words, but his expression alone had you fuming. You had to beat him. You’d have to pull out the big guns. To the drug store you went.

The day passed quickly, and in the late afternoon you came back from work ready to rock his world. You entered the bedroom and heard Jungkook turning off the shower. That was good, less clothes to take off. He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips and one drying his hair. His hair… His wet hair… It had you drooling. But you had a job to do.

“Wow, look at those pecs,” You said, sitting in the bed. You had the most fantastic view of his body. The light of the sunshine hit the droplets of water that were traveling through his torso just right. Mouthwatering.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook said, wiggling his eyebrows and flexing his abs slightly. He walked closer to peck your lips. You used this moment to run your hand through his hair and hum in appreciation. Jungkook was really feeling himself now, smirking through the kiss.

Perfect time to enact your three step plan.

Step one, flatter his ego.

Step two, engage his competitiveness.

Step three, win

“You have somewhere to go?�� you asked, holding his arm before he could go get dressed.

“Not tonight. Why? Feeling inspired?” he asked, jokingly stroking his abs, drying a few water droplets with the tip of his fingers.

“Actually, yes. I’m feeling pretty lucky to have left my end of the bet for tonight. You look so hot with water dripping on you like this,” you said, ogling his body and biting your lower lip. He gave you a breathy laugh.

“Say more words like that.”

“I’m ready to admit defeat. I just want to cherish you all night long,” you whispered. Wait for it…

“Wrong turn. I have the stop watch ready to go.” Bingo. “I am nothing if not a man of my word.”

“I guess that’s fine by me, too.”

“Where do you want to do the honors?” he asked, and you patted the bed, pulling him closer. He sat down, and you pushed his shoulders back, he fell down on the mattress and you straddled his lap with confidence.

“Bossy. I like it.”

“I can tell” you said, feeling his cock getting harder against your jeans. He was so easy. But getting him hard wasn’t difficult, getting him off on the other hand… But you had a good plan.

“Ready?” he asked and you pulled out flavored condoms out of your pocket.

“Yes, sir!”

“Condoms? I’m clean,” he joked, and you rolled your eyes.

“They’re part of the experience.”

“Condoms!?” he asked louder. “The things known to delay sensation of all mankind?”

“Not when I suck the flavors off them, they don’t.”

“Flavors?” he asked, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Get the watch going,” you smirked. He took a deep breath and pulled out the stopwatch.

“You’re on,” he said, pressing the top button.

You kissed his neck first, taking advantage of his position, and he closed his eyes. Maybe concentrating on not cumming, maybe enjoying the experience, maybe both. You grinded your crotch against his, and you noticed his breath get faster.

You trailed kisses down his torso, savoring the many water droplets. You got off the bed and removed the towel easily. You opened the first condom, putting it perfectly. You saw Jungkook’s eyes shot open, and you knew he was curious about your methods.

“Which one is that?” he asked, trying not to sound so interested.

“Mint.”

“Refreshing,” he commented. He physically prepared himself, balling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath.

You had this, though. You used all of the pressure of your cheeks, wrapping your lips around him completely and bobbed your head slowly. You caressed his inner thigh in the process. Not much composed, Jungkook groaned and hissed, and you could see he was doing his best not to cum.

The flavor was gone in about two minutes, and Jungkook sighed in relief when it was time to change it. He ran his palm through his face, taking another deep breath, but you still hadn’t pulled out all of the tricks up your sleeve.

“Time for cherry,” you sang. Your secret weapon. Jungkook loved all things cherry flavored. The fruit, pies, jam, chapstick… So when his head shot up, and his eyes were about to jump out of their sockets, you knew you made the right choice.

You didn’t give him time to fully process it, your mouth engulfed him again, as deep as it could go. You made sure to use your gag reflex to your advantage, closing your throat around his tip, and retrieving it with a loud pop. The saliva trail left behind left you moaning his name.

“Jungkook, I want to taste you, baby,” you said seductively, and he whimpered, closing his eyes shut.

And you continued with your technique, ruthless.

One more.

Two.

Three.

When your lips wrapped around him for a fourth time, he pressured against the back of your head to keep you there. Your throat closed around him once more, and with a final grunt, he released you.

He panted hard, and you quickly grabbed the stopwatch, pressing the top button to mark your time. 5 minutes, 53 seconds.

He did last five minutes after all, just not longer than you.

“You played dirty,” Jungkook accused, seeing your inappropriate smile.

“Dirty is my middle name.”

Your friends were once more gathered around your dinner table. Jungkook was refreshing people’s drinks while you served the desserts. Cherry pie.

“How’s things with what’s-his-name?” you asked your friend, not bothering to remember his name.

“I took your advice to edge him, and it worked like a charm. But it’s not going to work, he’s too needy now,” she answered.

“Go figure,” Alicia commented.

“Hey, how was the bet by the way?” Jeremy inquired.

“Mind your business, Jeremy” Jungkook said, and the table erupted in laughter.

“How long?” Jeremy pressed.

“I lasted 20 seconds longer,” you gloated.

“Score!” Jeremy high fived you, and Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I thought you promised not to share.”

“I promised no such thing.”

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #bangtanbathhouse #btsafterdarknet

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jsluvtzu · 7 months

Text

housewife

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: she shows her appreciation in better ways

cw: SMUT! evil, vile, degrading smut, sana treats you like a 1950s husband would, cursing, slapping, just filthy, men dni

wc: 2.1k

a/n: sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit

the aroma of the food you had been slaving on for hours dispersed through the whole house, filling the empty rooms and seeping into the thin walls.

since 7 am, you’ve been cleaning, tidying, mopping, wiping, and cleaning some more around every single corner of your shared home with sana.

you were what they called a “housewife”, but in sana’s eyes you were nothing more than a disappointment. a nuisance. a body that just does whatever is asked of her.

wiping your hands clean of any leftover sauce on your apron, you grabbed your phone from the counter to check the time.

- “5:48”

she should be home by now. sana worked a 9-5 at a corporate insurance company and usually came home around 5:30. you started preparing the dishes nonetheless and set the table with the proper silverware, one set of knives and a fork for her and one for you.

just when you finished plating the meal for her, you heard sana’s car pull into the driveway and her keys jingle against the lock of the door.

sana opened the door hastily and slammed it behind her, throwing her suitcase down and kicking her shoes off on the floor without a care where it landed.

you knew what this attitude meant. it happened at least once a week when her boss would overwhelm her with something and she would come home with a storm going on inside her head.

you hesitated to greet your wife and ultimately decided against it when she didn’t even look your way and just went straight to the living room, plopping down on the couch with a loud thud and letting out a heavy sigh.

sana took her suit jacket off and loosened her tie, turning on the tv and flipping through random channels to try and distract herself from whatever she had to deal with at work.

you brought over her plate to the couch, handing it to her. “hey honey, long day at work?”, your voice was gentle, but laced with a hint of worry.

sana paid you no mind, grabbing the plate from your hands and gluing her eyes back to the tv screen.

“get me something to drink.”, was the first thing sana said to you since she walked through the door.

you just smiled and went back to the kitchen to grab her a soda.

sana never ate dinner without taking a big sip of something first, so you knew better than to keep her waiting.

opening the can and handing it to her, you slightly blocked sana’s view of the tv and heard her tsks of annoyance. you quickly moved out of her way and went to go sit at the dinner table, the both of you eating alone, together.

that’s when you jumped at the sound of a plate slamming onto the hardwood floor. your eyes drawn to the scene of the crime, finding pasta and sauce splattered everywhere with pieces of ceramic mixed in.

“i’m not eating this shit. it’s disgusting.” sana said it in a monotone voice with no regards to how you might feel about it.

you slowly got up and walked over to sana, scanning the mess you had to clean up and avoiding stepping in shards of the now broken plate.

your face was contorted with both shock and anger, but you held in the last part with a clenched fist.

breathing out shakily, you mustered up enough strength to question sana’s childish behavior.

“why did you do that..” your eyes avoided hers and the grip on your apron grew tighter. sana was glaring at you through your peripheral.

“i come home from a long day at work and you expect me to eat that? i work hard just to be fed dog food?”, sana scoffed and leaned back into the couch, stretching her arms over the top of the couch and manspreading, shaking her head in disbelief.

“i spent at least three hours on that ‘dog food’, sana. it wouldn’t hurt to show a little respect.” your eyes had tears welling up at the edges, just restless to come out.

hearing that, sana’s eyes turned dark and her gaze was narrow. you fucked up. she tapped her finger rhythmically on the soft surface and nodded to herself, planning.

“you think i give a fuck? seriously, do you? i don’t owe you a single ounce of respect, whore. if i don’t like something, i’m not fucking eating it. now clean up your mess.” sana was fuming at this point. not only did she have a ruined dinner, she also had to deal with you talking back to her.

you grabbed the broom and dustpan from the closet and swept up what was left of her tantrum. you were so exhausted from cleaning all day, your body was spent. so tired to the point where you didn’t even notice you were wiping your own tears along with the sauce off the floor.

sana heard your sniffles and whimpers, peering over the arm of the couch and seeing your drained figure. she practically jumped off the couch with aggression and stopped in front of you, grabbing your face violently between her fingers and forcing you to look up at her.

your cries were cut short and you gasped at the sudden action.

“the fuck you crying for? can’t even do the one thing you’re made to do huh? all i ask is that you keep my house clean and have something fucking edible for me to eat when i get home. can’t even fucking do that?” at the end of her question, you felt the cold absence of her touch from your skin, only to feel a stinging heat when her hand lands on your face again, slapping you. the wedding ring she had on was sure to leave a bump. your eyes widened and the hand that you once had at your side went to caress your burning cheek.

“you’re so fucking pathetic.” another slap. this time you unknowingly let out a small moan at her strike, catching yourself and keeping your head down.

sana paused in shock, processing your response to her abuse.

“did you just fucking moan?” sana grabbed your chin between her pointer finger and thumb, lifting your face up to hers again.

“i slapped you.. and you fucking moaned? sana was genuinely curious, never hearing you react like that. her eyebrow was quirked with her lips slightly parted.

your eyes were glassy and bloodshot, your left cheek was marked red with her handprint and stained with your salty tears. to sana, you’d never looked better.

the darkness in sana’s eyes turned into lust in less than a millisecond. seeing you at her mercy and so helpless turned her thoughts into unspeakable ones.

sana looked you up and down once more before she grabbed your throat and lifted you off the ground, dragging you towards the counter by the stove with your back turned.

she stopped at the edge of the marble countertop and you winced at the bruising pain on your lower back.

sana trapped you between her arms at both sides, her hands flat against the cold marble surface. she shifted her leg between yours, pressing up against your core.

you were still recovering from the slaps you just received, mind blurry between wanting to be fucked and wanting to be comforted. but of course sana wouldn’t comfort you, the only way she expressed her “love” was by absolutely breaking you.

sana’s white undershirt was slightly unbuttoned and her collarbone was visible. her loose black tie and messy hair on top of that made every rational thought you had disappear. you didn’t even care about the disrespect she showed you earlier. if anything, you liked it.

“maybe i just needa fuck you until you learn how to cook properly hm?” sana snaked her hands around your back to untie your apron, sliding it over your head and onto the floor. her leg was still slotted between yours and you grinded on her ever so slightly, searching for relief.

“fuckin’ whore can’t think right unless she cums.” you whimpered at her words as sana crashed her lips onto yours, sucking and biting at them. the sounds that filled the room were sloppy and unsynchronized.

sana untied her tie completely with one hand and slid it off her neck without breaking the kiss. she wrapped it around the front of your throat and overlapped both ends at the back, tightening it and bringing it back towards her to hold you there. you moaned at the loss of circulation to your brain, the pressure in your head building up just enough to make your vision fuzzy.

you were wearing nothing except one of sana’s white oversized t-shirts and black lace panties underneath that apron. sana’s free hand slid under your shirt and up to grope your bare breast. the sensation of her cold touch against your warm body made you whine.

“mm- fuck, sana.” she rolled your erect nipple between her fingers and pinched it hard, eliciting pained moans from you.

sana observed you and saw your face losing color, immediately letting her grip on her tie go and pulling it off your throat with one smooth motion.

her hand trailed down to your hip, expecting to pull off a pair of shorts, but feeling the intricate pattern on your lace panties instead.

she ran her fingers over the material, humming in satisfaction. “you wearing these just for me?”

you nodded and pouted at her, whining. “all for you, sana, please..”

“please what? use your words, slut.”

“ ‘need you to fuck me so bad, please.” sana smirked at your desperation, hooking her finger onto your side and pulling your panties down, letting them slide down your legs.

your pussy was sticky from your arousal and throbbing from her teasing finger running through your slit.

sana teased your hole and went back up to your swollen clit, rubbing lazy circles around it and spreading your slick all over. you grinded yourself on her hand, silently urging her to give you more.

you glanced up at sana and saw her eyes fixated on your exposed core, watching the way her hand slid between your folds with ease and how the dim overhead light reflected perfectly off of your pussy, making you shine and glisten.

sana furrowed her eyebrows and held her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly sinking two fingers into you. she bottomed out at your cervix, pulling back out only to pick up her pace and slide inside you again. the erotic squelching sound from just how wet you were was disgustingly hot.

her groans were right in your ear, hearing her curse to herself about how tight you were. your eyes were stuck on sana’s flushed chest, her tendons popping out everytime she breathed. her breathing was heavy and uneven, and you could tell sana was losing herself in the trance that you put her in.

suddenly, sana stopped her movements and grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter. you hissed at the cold feeling against your bare skin.

sana pulled your shirt up, revealing your whole upper body to her.

she grabbed the front end of your shirt and held it up to your mouth, motioning for you to open and bite down on the cloth.

“keep it there, you understand?” you nodded, holding the shirt between your teeth and arching your back for sana to see exactly just how much you understood. she responded by tapping your thigh for you to open your legs wider, scooping her arms under your legs and sliding you forward to give her easier access.

sana’s eyes didn’t peel away from your chest for one second when she started fucking you again. her pace was inhumanly fast and yet she still managed to hit your sweet spot every time.

“oh my god, sana- fuck, don’t stop please, fuck” your moans were sporadic and words were mumbled, completely rid of any thought other than cumming right then and there.

“yeah? i’m fucking you so good right baby? don’t i deserve a good meal when i’m fucking you like this?” sana grabbed your face and squeezed your cheeks together, slapping you lightly a couple times.

you agreed with squeaked moans and squeezed your eyes shut, drawing out long yeses in between.

“yes, fuck- oh my god yes,” at that point you weren’t sure if you were answering her question or just begging for her to keep fucking you like that.

“ ‘fuck kinda whore doesn’t know how to cook for her wife? dumb fucking bitch. so useless.”

sana pushed her thumb against your clit and you felt the tightness in your core building up. moaning her name repeatedly, you threw your arms over her shoulders and pressed her face down against your bare chest, holding her there and cumming on her fingers with a loud groan.

you attempted to calm down your breathing and stabled yourself with your hands grabbing sana’s arms. she pulled her fingers out and shoved them between your lips, gagging you and swirling her fingers around your tongue.

“that’s what a good meal should taste like.”

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop gg #sana x reader #sana smut #minatozaki sana #i can’t stop writing for sana #that nayeon smut will be out later..

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actiniumwrites · 2 years

Text

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 [𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄]

synopsis: they ignore you after an argument

characters: xiao, heizou x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries in xiao’s, near death experience in xiao’s, like one or two cuss words in heizou’s

notes: so this is the last part for like a month or so (i’m taking a small break from this series). i’m also only doing two more parts after this, so please don’t send more requests for characters because i already know what the last two will be !

part one (scaramouche and yelan), part two (childe and ayato), part four (kaeya and alhaitham)

Xiao:

Arguments with Xiao were far from uncommon. Even before you were dating him, you knew that he just couldn’t always see things the same way you did.

You were a skilled fighter and a vision holder and you often went out fighting and protecting Liyue yourself, but that didn’t mean you never needed help.

Besides, Xiao had always made it clear that if you ever needed his help to call out for him. Yet, the argument you had with him proved otherwise.

One day, after rescuing you from some overly dangerous monsters, he had brought you back to the Wangshu Inn and ended up scolding you, which later resulted in an argument.

He said you were relying on him way too much. That you could understand, but he had also called you weak and annoyingly over dependent. The minute you had started crying, he fled your shared room and left you alone.

When Xiao had come back that night, you tried your hardest to seem normal around him. You didn’t want him to think you were being dependent anymore, but it’s not like it mattered anyway. The second you tried to talk to him, he walked right past you and went to bed.

You’d hoped that maybe he was just tired and didn’t want to talk, but you were far from right.

When you had woken up the next morning, Xiao wasn’t there. Normally, he’d have breakfast with you, even though he didn’t really like human food, he’d tolerate it for you. But when you walked out, he was gone. No note or anything.

You sighed and ate by yourself, but chose not to mope around. If Xiao thought you were weak, you were going to show him you weren’t.

So after eating, you got all your gear and headed out to the mountains of Liyue in search of some monsters. It took awhile, but you eventually found some pretty difficult ones: several mitachurls, some abyss mages, lots of hilichurls, and even some really big geovishaps.

You jumped down and got to fighting. It was a bit difficult, you could admit that, but it wasn’t hard enough that you hurt yourself. Once you got done, you looked down at all of them, feeling rather accomplished.

“Xiao!” you called out.

No answer.

Your shoulders slumped and a dejected frown formed on your face. It was useless and you were right, he wasn’t going to talk to you. He wouldn’t even listen when you called out his name.

You knew he was mad, but you didn’t think he was that mad.

—

When you got home that night, you found Xiao already home and cleaning up his wounds. You reached your hand out to tap his shoulder, but quickly retreated. There was no point, he would just shrug you off anyway.

Maybe some dinner would get him to talk? You thought.

You sighed, hoping it would work. You were even going to make his favorite, almond tofu.

An hour later when you had finally finished cooking, you called for him to come eat dinner. There was no reply, though. So you called for him again, a little more hesitant this time.

You frowned and grabbed the plate, walking to the door to your shared bedroom, “Xiao?”

When you walked in, he was sitting on the bed, wrapping his arm in a light layer of bandages, “Xiao? What happened?”

No response.

Your eyes dropped to the plate in your hands and you hesitated before speaking again, “I know you don’t really want to talk to me or even look at me right now…but will you at least just eat this food I made you? It’s your favorite.”

You set the plate next to him and he turned to face it, not sparing you a glance. He looked at it for a few more seconds before pushing it far away from him and back toward you.

The slight hope you felt that he might consider eating it quickly crumbled at the sight of him pushing it away. He nearly looked repulsed.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, disappointed.

—

The next morning, you decided to not get your hopes up and to just leave Xiao alone. You didn’t know how much longer he was going to continue acting the way he was, but you knew he would give it up at some point.

For hours that day, you fought several monsters and cleared out many of their camps. You were exhausted, but you needed to clear your mind of the argument, and fighting was the only thing helping.

You glanced up at the sky, noticing its darkening colors before looking to your last camp of monsters. Your eyes felt heavy and your chest was heaving from being out of breath, but you knew you had to keep going. Besides, it was your last camp so it wouldn’t be that much extra work.

You cleared them with ease and were packing up some stolen goods you had found to return to the guild later when you suddenly were pushed to the floor.

A sharp stabbing pain entered your side as you were being tossed around on the ground. You couldn’t see anything, but you knew you were being attacked by monsters.

When you were finally able to get back up on your feet, you rushed to kill whatever was attacking you. But more and more just kept coming.

Strike after strike, they just kept coming. Not even your vision could help you at this point.

You screamed out in pain as more sharp pain entered your side. Slashes covered your face and arms and although you didn’t want to, you called for him.

“Xiao!” You screamed out.

No answer.

C’mon, please! I need you…

Tears formed in your eyes as you crumbled to the ground, you weren’t ready for your life to be over. You didn’t even get to make up with Xiao.

But you couldn’t take anymore fighting. There was just too many monsters, too many for a human to handle.

You shut your eyes and curled into a ball, and with your last bit of energy, you tried again, “Xiao, please…”

A green flash was all you saw before something slammed into your head, knocking you out cold.

—

When you woke up, you felt rather disoriented and confused. You were shocked to see you were even still alive. You moved to sit up, still confused as to where you were, but were quickly pushed back down.

“Don’t move,” a rough voice spoke, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You turned toward the voice, shuddering at the brightness of the room, “…Xiao? Where are we?”

“The Wangshu Inn, I brought you back here last night after you called for me.”

Your face suddenly felt hot and your eyes filled with tears at the realization. Xiao’s face contorted into one of confusion at your tears, if anything, he felt should be the one crying.

“Are you in pain? What’s wrong?” He spoke, alarm evident in his voice as he gently placed an arm on your shoulder.

“Nothing…I just,” you paused to breath, “You were ignoring me and I thought you weren’t going to show up. I thought I was going to die, and I only proved your point. You were right, I’m weak and I depend on you too much. Archons, I’m so sorry you had to save me again-”

You were cut off by his lips on yours. Xiao wasn’t normally so bold, but he didn’t know how else to shut you up.

When he retreated, he gently wiped off the hot tears on your face, “You do not have any reason to be sorry. I am at fault for saying you need to stop depending on me. You are my s/o, and it’s my job to protect you too. So…I apologize.”

The room was silent for a few moments before you began giggling to yourself.

“Why are you laughing? Did I say something wrong?”

You wiped your face as you calmed down, “No, no! It’s just, I’ve never seen you be so..gentle and sincere before. It’s kinda funny.”

“I am not gentl- stop laughing. I don’t see what’s so funny.” he crossed his arms with a frown.

“Calm down, Xiao, I accept your apology and…it is a little funny,” you smiled.

Xiao wanted to tell you off again, scold you for calling him gentle or soft, but he just couldn’t. Not when you looked so happy. The guilt that filled his heart before washed over him once more, he couldn’t stand to ever ignore you again.

You and your smile were worth far too much to him to ever be so childish again.

Heizou:

When Heizou and you began dating, you were sure you guys would get into arguments all the time.

Shockingly enough, you didn’t. In fact, arguments between you and him were quite rare. Heizou is a pretty easy going guy, so it wasn’t often there was major conflict between the two of you.

Usually it was just something stupid or funny like who was going to have to cook dinner or do the laundry.

The only problem was, when you did seriously argue, it got bad. They were usually pretty intense and got bitter very quick, often resulting in you guys saying untrue and overly mean things to each other.

The argument you had last night was one of those - the bitter and intense ones. You had brought up the fact that you didn’t like how flirty he was with other people, despite being with you. But he was in a bad mood from work and quickly lashed out on you.

He was quick to call you insecure, jealous, and stupid for overthinking. He even had the nerve to scoff when you started crying before leaving to go to bed for the night without resolving the issue.

The following day, you weren’t really sure what to do with yourself. You wanted to talk to Heizou, apologize and fix what happened, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Besides, you weren’t so sure he was eager to fix anything himself either, especially seeing as he had already left for work without so much as a kiss goodbye or mentioning he was going to leave.

For a long time, you had known Heizou to be the type of guy to just let things boil until they nearly spilled over, but it scared you to see the way he was going to handle this. He never really stayed mad for too long, so it was odd to see him blatantly ignore and avoid you that morning.

Apologies or not, you couldn’t mope around all day, anyway. You still had a job in the main city and couldn’t just stay home because you were upset.

You worked at Uyuu Restaurant, and though you loved your job, it was always dull on the days that there was hardly anyone dining there. You sighed as you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, your head resting on your propped up arm — just a few more hours and then you could have your lunch break.

When your lunch break finally did come, you became a bit nervous. Usually your detective boyfriend would come and bring you lunch and you guys would have lunch together outside the restaurant, but he never showed today.

You weren’t sure you even wanted to see him, but was he seriously not even going to bring you food? Sure, you could eat at the restaurant since you worked there, but you were tired of their food since you ate so much of it when you first began working there.

Heizou also mentioned once that he preferred you eat home cooked food opposed to restaurant food all the time. But really you knew it was just an excuse to have lunch you everyday on your break, not like you minded though.

Your eyes snapped to the clock once more, only 15 minutes left and your break was over. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. Heizou wasn’t going to show.

You almost felt like you had just been stood up on a date. Even the way the owner and your boss glanced at you with sad eyes made it feel like that. But you ignored it and kept your head down as you untied your apron and left.

You preferred Heizou’s cooked food a million more times over anything purchased from a restaurant or food stand, but you had no choice today. You wandered around the main street for a bit before settling on a small food stand and picking up a quick lunch.

As you walked off with your food, you thought about maybe eating outside where you and your boyfriend normally ate, but decided against it. You didn’t really want to be reminded of him right now.

For now, you would just have to eat quickly and get back to your boring old work for the day.

—

When your shift ended, you felt so relieved. Today was so incredibly boring you nearly wanted to scream in the restaurant or go outside and beg people to eat there so you would have something, anything to do.

You said your goodbyes and goodnights to the owner and the other staff as you walked out of the empty restaurant. All you wanted was a warm delicious meal and a nice bath. Maybe you could even cuddle with Heizou for a bit-

Oh yeah..Heizou…the argument. You had completely forgotten all about it.

You felt your mood drop at the reminder of it all. Your eyes remained on the ground as you continued walking, the argument from last night replaying a million times throughout your mind.

“Wow, Mio, you really made all of these yourself? You are so talented, you should tell me more sometime.”

Your eyes snapped up at the voice and you felt your feet stop walking, it was as though you were frozen in place.

“Oh, Mr. Shikanoin, you are too kind,” Mio blushed.

“How could I not be when I’m talking to someone so pretty?” he said smoothly, you even heard Mio giggle, “Tell you what, you give me some information on a certain customer and…”

Your boyfriend’s words were suddenly drowned out and you felt dizzy. You tell him you hate the way he flirts with other people, he lashes out on you and ignores you, and then you find him flirting with someone else..again?

How were you supposed to listen to that?

“Um..Mr. Shikanoin, I apologize, but is that someone you know?” Mio asked warily.

He turned over in the direction she pointed at, his flirtatious smile falling off his face at the sight of you standing just a mere five feet away with tears flowing down your face.

“…Y/n?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t, “Forget it.”

“Hey! Y/n wait, come back!” he shouted as he ran after you.

You were quick, but he eventually caught up to you. Grabbing your wrist gently, he turned you around to face him, but you shrugged him off.

“Leave me alone, Heizou. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Okay, but I want to talk to you..” he gently spoke.

“Really? Now you want to speak to me?!” you faced him, tears continuing to stream down your now flushed face, “You ignore me all day and now that I don’t want to talk to you, you stop? That’s not fair, you made me feel like shit last night for expressing my concerns and then I find you flirting with someone else again!”

“It’s not what you think-”

“I don’t care what it is, okay?” you stuttered out, “Just…leave me alone.”

You turned to walk away from him and to your shared house. You reached up a hand to cover your mouth to contain your sobs, but it was no use, they escaped anyway.

Two arms quickly made their way around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Even though you didn’t want to, you melted into him, sobs muffled by your head against Heizou’s chest.

“Shhhh…it’s okay,” Heizou cooed, “I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said last night, okay? I was just in a bad mood, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to say things like that.”

Heizou moved to sit you guys down on a nearby bench under a tree before continuing, “I’m sorry for not listening to you and ignoring you like that. And I’m sorry for going off and flirting with Ogura Mio, even though it was part of an investigation. I should’ve listened to you and respected your wishes, so I’ll stop flirting with other people. I just want you to know that I never meant any of it, I only ever did it to find out information for cases.”

You wiped your eyes as you leaned on his shoulder, staring out at the city, “You’re going to have to make it up to me, you know?”

“Seriously? I just give you that heart-felt apology and your already demanding stuff from me?” he joked, and you half-heartedly laughed.

“Yep, you owe me. I want cuddles every night and you’re cooking for me everyday, all three meals for the next month,” you smirked, “Until then, I don’t forgive you.”

Heizou jokingly rolled his eyes before smiling down at you, “Fine, fine! C’mon, let’s go home.”

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koolades-world · 13 days

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ok thought!

big brother mammon who acts like one to lucifer too because lucifer deserves to have someone to lean on too! this post was totally inspired by rock on haha

imagine this:

mammon dragging luci home after a night out drinking with a tenderness only an older brother would know despite the frustration at his stupidity

mammon bringing luci dinner after he spent his evening working and trying to disguise his worry

mammon cleaning up luci’s coffee cups and messes around the house so he’s able to enjoy a clean space

mammon buy luci his favorite candle scent and leaving it on his desk without a note

mammon picking up luci’s chores without letting him know after he knows he had a hard day so he gets a nice surprise when he goes to do them

mammon "scheming" with diavolo to surprise luci in all sorts of ways

just all the things mammon would never say to luci's face, but wants him to know he cares <3

"Ya know, for the little brother in this relationship, I feel like I'm draggin' ya home a lot more than I should. Getting wasted at Lord Diavolo's party isn't exactly a great look for ya." Mammon was carrying his older brother, Lucifer, on his back. They'd just left Diavolo's birthday party. As the right hand man to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer was obviously by his side the entire time. Every time someone offered Diavolo a drink, Lucifer would take it and down it himself to avoid him getting wasted and acting afool at his own party. The gesture was sweet, but of course it resulted in Lucifer getting wasted himself.

Mammon had been enjoying dancing with Mc when the two of them noticed Lucifer begin to act overly emotional and erratically. He was leaning heavily into Diavolo's side, looking close to tears and telling him he loved him. Beel was nowhere in sight, so Mammon knew he had to step up to the plate. While he didn't want to leave Mc alone, he knew one of his brothers would be willing to take his place. He flagged down which ever of his brothers that he saw first, which happened to be Satan, who was conversing with someone Mammon presumed he knew. After explaining the situation, Mammon left with Lucifer in tow behind him. As bum hurt he was about having to call it a night earlier than he'd wanted to, since he'd planned to stay at that party all night without a break, he knew Lucifer needed him more.

With his older brother on his back with a little help from Satan and Mc, Mammon set off on his way home. Mc had been the group's designated driver of that night, yet for some reason he didn't think to ask Mc to just drive them home. So, he resolved to walking because going back in would be too embarrassing, but it wasn't too far to home. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Lucifer's sniffling and incoherent babbling. A few times he went off on a rant, and all Mammon did was nod and ask vague questions.

Once they got home, Mammon was quick to bring Lucifer upstairs. After opening the door to his room, he put Lucifer down on his bed. While the bed was made, a few empty cups and a large stack of papers sat on his bedside table. If it hadn't been for Diavolo's party, Mammon wasn't sure Lucifer would have left his room. He picked up the cups and moved the paperwork out of the way. He got a set of pajamas for his brother, and instructed him to go change, while he went back downstairs to get some water for him.

"Here. Drink this." Mammon passed the water to Lucifer, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and miraculously fully dressed. He took the glass without a word and drank half of it in one go. "How are ya feelin'?" He stood in front of him, hands on his hips.

"I'm tired." Lucifer told him. He then flopped over onto his back on his bed. With a sigh, Mammon rolled him onto his side and sat beside him.

"Get some rest then. I'll be here." Mammon's D.D.D. was dead, so he set it down on the bed beside him since Lucifer's D.D.D. was currently charging. Lucifer shut his eyes pretty quickly and Mammon thought he was asleep. Resolved to just sitting there, waiting, Mammon began to think about that night of fun he'd have before. He loved Lucifer, but the choice to drink that recklessly was stupid. But, it was because he cared so much, he was willing to make a fool of himself to prevent that same thing from happening to Diavolo, and potentially help him avoid harm. Mammon wasn't sure how many drinks he'd had, or what was in them.

The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought. His was dead, so he looked over to Lucifer's to see Mc was calling. After picking it up, he was greeted with Mc with the sound of the party in the background. "Hello?" They said.

"Hey, Mc. Somethin' the matter? Lucifer is asleep." Mammon held the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.

"Oh, sorry. No, everything is fine. Just wanted to check up on you. Everything good there?" They lowered their voice.

"Yeah, thanks for checkin'. What time will ya be home? If ya know." Mammon looked over at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved.

"Soon. Belphie is asleep in a corner and Beel ate everything already, so they're tapped out. Asmo is still going, but I can pry him away easily, and Satan is ready to go when I am. I actually haven't seen Levi, but I assume he's in a side room somehere." Mc chuckled a little into the phone, presumably at something they saw.

"Alright. I'm stayin' with Lucifer. See ya later." Mammon waited for his goodbye to put down the phone. Once he did, he hung up and plugged it back in. He peered at Lucifer's face again. He looked normal, so he let himself begin to think again. This time, he didn't get far at all.

"Mammon?" Lucifer spoke up.

"Aren't ya supposed to be asleep?" Mammon looked back at him again. He was awake now, his crimson eyes searching his face.

"I don't say thank you enough." Mammon was taken aback by his words.

"Sorry?" Mammon blinked.

"Thank you. You really do care." With that, Lucifer shut his eyes again. Mammon was a little shocked, but smiled to himself. Lucifer could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but it just took a little Demonus in his system to make him say what he was thinking.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me beel #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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eimids · 6 months

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Big bad flight

Lionesses x reader

Ok but imagine this lucy during this fic.

kinda part 2 for emotional support water bottle but also not. Just a blurb about reader being scared of flying.

Warnings: flying, angst but 90% fluff, probly full of mistakes

You were supposed to be flying to spain to have a match against them. Spending your childhood in England, you rarely travelled. At least not by plane. Although you were 19, you only have been only once in a plane. But now being part of the lionesses, meant flying.

You didn’t admit your nervousness to anyone. You just wanted to brush it off and get over yourself. The day of flying came too fast for your liking. You had training, some recovery, dinner and then you were supposed to go to the airport and take off.

Training went quite smoothly and recovery was nice. You got a massage from one of the physician’s at it helped you to take your mind off of the stress of flying. During dinner though, you barely ate which didn’t go unnoticed by your teammates. Lucy was eyeing your plate and you most of the dinner. She didn’t say anything, just decided to keep an eye on you.

Esme was really helping your nerves when she sat down with you in the bus. She talked about making a bracelet for you and was asking what colors you wanted. You went with basic blue and pink. She then tried to teach you how to make them but it didn’t really work out for you so you just laughed and gave up after your third attempt.

When you arrived to the airport your nerves kicked in again. Lucy noticed how you went silent and weren’t you usual talkative self. For you, now was the time you realized that you were actually going to have to be in a medal cage in the air. It sounded horrible.

“You okay kiddo?” Lucy asked when she walked to you. She took your bag in her arms to carry it for you.

“Yeah I umm” You started but didn’t find the words.

“It’s okay to be nervous” Lucy said which confused you. How did she know? “I noticed you’ve been a bit weird all day so I just figured it was about flying?” Lucy told you.

“Yeah I’m not really used to traveling by plane and I just don’t like the idea of being kilometers in apart from the ground” You answered truthfully. It felt nice to talk to Lucy about it.

She continued to talk to you as you made your way through security, baggage claim and all that. Then it was time to board the plane. You stayed close to Lucy the whole time. She was your safety net during this flight.

“Ooh is someone scared of flying?” Kiera teased you as she noticed you were paler than usual and not talking at all.

“Shut it Kie” Lucy confronted her girlfriend. She knew that it was enough for you to be scared, you didn’t need the teasing.

You sat in a window seat with Lucia next to you. Kiera sat in the isle seat. During this all you had your water bottle secured on your backpack. It was the other thing that calmed you down. Sipping from it once in a while, it calmed the nerves to have a familiar activity.

You were fiddling with your fingers and scratching your cuticles. Lucy just took your hand in hers and squeezed it. You started to plai with her fingers instead of your own. Playing with her rings and listening to miss Swift was enough to get you through the take off.

Your nervous tick being drinking from your water bottle came with the fact that eventually during the flight you had to leave the comfortable safety of your seat and walk to the bathroom.

You didn’t want to bother sleeping Lucy and just walked to the bathroom of the plain. Just then the turbulence kicked in. Just in time when you locked the door and started to pee.

Your heartbeat quickened and tears were brought to your eyes. You quickly just washed your hands and went back to your seat that was your safety. Lucy was there. Having been woken up by the turbulence.

“Come here sweet” She said and opened her arms for you. You sat in your seat and leaned yourself on her arms. They secured themselves around you. The pressure felt nice.

“It’s okay y/n, we’re about to land” It was Kiera this time that talked to you.

You nodded and stared to play with Lucy’s rings again. It was distraction from the shaking of the plane.

Quick enough you were landing. It was a big relief for you and the lump in your throat was washed away. Lucy gave you a smile of assurance that this would stay between the three of you.

When you got off the plane you were quickly the same bubbly girl the whole team knew and loved. You were quick to catch up with Less and Ella. They were laughing with you the whole bus ride to your hotel.

—

Sweet little blurb <3

#woso x reader #lionesses #lucy bronze #wlw post #kiera walsh #fluff #woso community #woso fanfics #blurb #lucy bronze x kiera walsh #x reader

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lustkillers · 8 months

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BON APPÉTIT, BABY !

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - having someone complain about his food was the tip of the iceberg, thank god you're there, right?

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ you guessed it, nsfw!! dom!tyler, sub!reader. unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, praising, bondage, choking?? hair-pulling, overstimulation, orgasm delay, crying, freaky deaky stuff!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - tyler x fem!reader.

⊹₊ ⋆ note - RAURF ARF ARF ARF ARF RAUHFDOAH WOOF WOOF WOOF!!! YES CHEF YES CHEF!!! this has been sitting in my drafts forever, so here u go!! i also wanna start writing for him more, someone please request more of tyler!!!!

WAS it him? No one really complained about his cooking, everything he heard from people's mouths were praise for his delicious food.

Maybe today wasn't his day, as many people sent back their food. He watched as the plates were returned to him, the food untouched and barely eaten. This has never happened before.

As the day went on, he kept getting more unhappy looks from the customers and heard more murmurings about his food being bad. He was starting to become discouraged, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

As his shift ended, he clocked out with concealed rage. He walked to his car and slammed the door shut as he got in. He pulled out his phone, his homescreen shining bright right in front of his eyes.

It was a photo of you attempting to cook something, with a pot in front of you and an apron slightly too big for you. You were making some kind of sauce, smiling wide as the camera clicked.

He put his phone away, his hands gripping on the wheel as he went home. He couldn't help but recall all the times you two had spent in the kitchen, cooking together. Suddenly, he was feeling a lot better - like maybe things weren't as bad as it seemed.

You hummed as you waited for Tyler to come back home, the aroma of the dinner you were preparing lingering in the air. When he arrived, you hugged him tight and welcomed him with a warm smile.

He didn't respond, his hands cupping your face as he brought you into a kiss. It was feverish, desperate. You were taken aback for a moment, but it felt so right.

You pulled away, knowing that something was up. "What's up, Ty?" You asked, eyebrows raised in concern.

He paused for a few seconds before he replied, "Just people complaining," he muttered. "'Don't care, jus' need you." His lips connected to yours again.

His hands traveled to your waist, dangerously low. You felt yourself pushing against him and you both fell back onto the couch. His hands explored your body, pushing through fabric and barriers. The heat between you both was palpable as his lips trailed down your neck.

You gasped out at the feeling, now eyeing the food on the table. "T-Ty... The food...!" you stuttered, not sure if you wanted to stop him.

He pulled away and looked down at you, his eyes full of lust and longing. "We can eat later," he said as his hands roughly pulled at your clothes. You felt the heat scorching through you as he embodied everything you had ever wanted.

Your clothes were all off, leaving you exposed. He looked you up and down before kissing every inch of your body, making you moan with pleasure. You felt yourself arching into him, wanting more and feeling the sensations course through your veins.

He pulled away from your body, his hands going to untie his signature blue bandana. He moved slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt yourself trembling - you knew where this was going.

The blue bandana was now tied around your wrists tightly, binding them together. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, his hands exploring your body as you felt yourself losing control. You were now completely at his mercy.

He took off his shirt, then fumbling with his pants. You heard the sound of a belt unbuckling and you felt your heart pounding in anticipation, your thighs squeezing together.

His hand opened your legs once again, leaning towards you for a kiss, his hands traveling up your pussy as he did. You almost cried out in pleasure, feeling electricity travel through your body. He smirked as he saw you quiver, knowing the effect he had on you.

You could only arch your back at the feeling, your hands growing tired of being binded together. He could feel your need for freedom, but he wasn't done with you yet.

His fingers enter your wet insides, lewd noises filling the air. They went at a hard, fast pace, the feeling making you want to close your legs, but his thigh kept your legs open.

He moved his finger faster and faster, increasing the pleasure and passion he was eliciting from within you. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge of climax, crying out; "C-Cumming!! M'gonna cum!!" You exclaimed.

He smirked, now removing his fingers from your pussy. "No, not yet," he said with a wicked grin on his face, which made you whine out. You wanted to cum so badly, going crazy from the pleasure.

He then untied the bandana from your wrists, now flipping you over, your ass up. He then pressed his cock against your entrance, pushing himself in. Your breath hitched as you felt him filling your insides with each thrust, the pleasure intensifying with each motion.

The bandana found itself around your throat, his hands holding on the two ends as he endlessly pounded into you. "Yeah, take it like a good girl..." He rasped out, his thrusts picking up pace.

You only let out strangled moans, the pleasure now too overwhelming. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your eyes rolling in ecstasy. "T-Ty... Please!"

His eyebrow cocked, "Please what? Beg for it, sweetheart," he said with a smirk, releasing the bandana from around your throat, his hand now gripping your hair.

You took in a deep breath, now looking up at him with lust-filled eyes; "Please, please, please! Lemme cum!" You rasped out.

He only smiled, the pleasure of your pleas evident in his face. He grabbed onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back, each thrust now sending you closer and closer to the edge. You didn't care anymore, crying out as you came undone.

Tyler wasn't done though, his hips rutting into your puffed out pussy. The sensation overwhelmed your senses, tears slipping out your eyes. You held onto his biceps, your face contorting with pleasure.

"S-Shit, Ty! S'too much! C-Cumming!" Your legs shook once again, clenching down on his cock. Your sweat beading off your forehead as you cried out once again in pleasure, your eyes blissed out.

Tyler growled out, now thrusting into you roughly. You could feel him getting close too, "F-Fuck..." His thrusts grew erratic, his breathing shallow. He finally spilled himself into you, holding onto your hips as he rode out the aftershocks.

His hips still rutted into your own as he groaned in pleasure; "That's it sweetheart... Take it all..." You felt both of your hearts beating, in sync.

He held onto you, your bodies sticky against each other from the sweat. He finally pulled out, exhaling deeply. However, you tried to crawl out his heavy arms, but to no use, failed.

"Hey," Tyler's voice was thick with emotion, "Where are you going?". You froze in his arms, not sure what to say. He kissed your shoulder softly. "I'm not letting you go that easily." He said, tightening his grip.

"The food, Ty. It's probably cold now..." You whispered, feeling slightly disappointed that all your hard-work was now cold.

He hummed, looking at the food and then back at you. "Thought all of this was dinner?" He smirked, corny.

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to answer. He chuckled lightly, releasing you from his grip and leaned in to give you a peck on the lips. "Let's eat, again." He said.

God you couldn't ask for a better boyfriend.

#rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #the expecting #tyler x reader #tyler the expecting #rory culkin smut #i need him so bad #smut

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