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miguelhugger2099 · 1 month

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Power of the Sun

Summary: You're Doc O'Hara's assistant A/N: tentacle pron? Art: vencipality on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little violent/screaming, Angst?, Word Count: 3,004

Miguel was a man of science. He took pride in his work but was always humble about it. He was a kind mentor, encouraging young brilliant minds to pursue their passion in science and math, connecting with his peers and exchanging ideas to enrich and evolve humankind for the greater good. Knowledge is not a privilege, it’s a gift, he would say. Like any other one of his colleagues and apprentices, you admired him and his work. You followed him around as his assistant and confidant. Miguel trusted you after many years and you had fallen in love with him after many years. For a while, it had remained one-sided. A love you kept to yourself and didn’t believe that a man so brilliant as him would ever fall for someone like his subordinate. He deserved someone equally as knowledgeable–capable of keeping up with him. “Dr. O’Hara, I’ve printed all the documents of the latest experimentation process as well as sending a copy to Osborn.” You walked in his vast lab, heels clicking with each step against the marbled floor. Miguel was all the way in the back, only a dim fluorescent light highlighting him and whatever he was working on. His face was scrunched together as he focused on the task at hand. However when he heard your voice, he looked over his shoulder and his scowl melted. He called out your name gently, now a small smile on his face. He joined you in the middle, hands out as he collected the papers from your hands. He briefly flipped through the pages, scanning with his eyes before looking back up at you. He patted the front pages with the back of his hand and nudged his glasses up further his nose. “What would I do without you?” You flush, scoffing and looking to the side before reverting back to him. “You’d be fine, Dr.O’Hara.” You shake your head and swerve around him to take a look at whatever he was working on.

Miguel turns. “I beg to differ. For years, you’ve been a great asset at my side.” You hum. “And for years, you keep telling me that. But really, Doctor, it’s you who does the actual revolutionary actions.” He meets you at your side once he’s placed the papers securely somewhere. “Miguel.” He corrects you. “We’ve been together all this time. You know what else I keep telling you? That honorifics is unnecessary. Call me Miguel.” You clear your throat. “Okay, Miguel.” No matter how many times he reminded you, you would always say his name before reverting back to calling him Doctor. Perhaps habits are hard to break. “How’s it coming along?” You turn your head to see what he had been working on for a long time now. Miguel brightened up, standing straight and walking around the device. Four long green mechanical tentacles held up on their own all attached to a long spinal machine. He grazed his hands over the tentacles, admiring his own work. “We’re close, darling. It just needs some testing.” “Well if you’d like I could set up a volunteering headline for–” “No, no, no!” He stopped you by shaking his head and hands. “No, I–we can’t let this get out to the public yet. This is for the expo next month where Osborn will be. Perhaps he can finally understand why I’m doing this…” He mumbles to himself. You’re taken aback by his outburst but you rationalize it by thinking how exhausted he might be. Ever since Norman Osborn had disregarded Miguel’s research, Miguel had been working on crunch time to prove the CEO wrong. “Then how will you test it?” Your hand comes up to hold a claw from one of the tentacles. You examine the carbon fiber skeleton that Miguel used, trying to find the details of the prosthetic. Miguel admires you from the side, his eyes longing and far as he watches.

“I’ll–” He sighs. “I’ll think of…someone.” He murmurs. He feels an ache in his chest and looks back at his invention. The green of the arms glow softly against his brown skin, reflecting off his glasses. He looks over at you and sees the same for you. The curve of your cheeks and the light in your eyes tinged with green. “You know, um. It’s been a while since we’ve-eh- hung out?” Miguel stammers, taking off his glasses and cleans the right lens with his lab coat. “Maybe later tonight we could–if you like, of course– to join me for dinner?” He coughs and quickly places his glasses back on to hide his blush. He fails. You turn your head to face him, surprise evident on your face. “O-oh. As…colleagues?” Your voice pitches higher with nerves. Miguel gulps, Adam's apple bobbing with the action. “Well, no–it’s–what I’m trying to say is I’d like to have dinner with you as…more than colleagues.” Miguel burns brighter. He could solve the hardest equation, understand quantum physics and talk to scholars and billionaires with no sweat but when it came to you, you turned him into a babbling idiot. He glances at you from his peripheral vision, hoping you would not reject him. “Oh..! Then,” You give him a small smile. “I’d love to.”

What started as one date, began another and another until a series of dates had been planned and enjoyed before it blossomed into a relationship with your boss. You never thought it possible. You always thought of Miguel as someone out of your reach, someone who would rather focus on winning awards and gaining money–helping humankind–before ever thinking of settling down with anyone. For months, you had been going out with him, and establishing your relationship and for months you were helping him with his invention. Miguel screamed as he threw everything he had on his desk aside in anger. Pens, papers and other tools flew to the floor and he gripped his hair in frustration. He tugged on his long curls hoping that the pain in his strands would outweigh the pounding in his head. You ran to his side and placed a hand on his back while he curled into himself, heaving heavily. “You need to rest.” You urged. “These damn billionaires,” He growls, ignoring you. “Can’t they see we’re just trying to help people? Can’t they see beyond something as worthless as the money they want?” He stomps away from you, heading to the pinboard that held all his drawings and calculations. He ripped them off their pins and clips, tearing them to shreds as they fluttered to the floor. “This is the next step to human evolution! And they want to dump my shit, my life’s WORK, just because of what?” He laughs hysterically. “Because that malparido Osborn doesn’t believe in it? Are they so far up that elitists ass?” You watch terrified behind him. You feel your heart pumping, your eyes trained on him in case he hurts himself. “Miguel…” He slams his fists on the now bare pinboard, papers strewn across the floor around him. He heaves out another sigh, his anger simmering. “I just want to help people.” He whispers, resting his forehead on the rough surface. While he takes in shaky breaths, you decide to approach him. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you turn his head towards you. Your heart breaks when you see the defeated look on his face. Eyebags had grown deeper, his eyes bloodshot and half lidded from sleep deprivation. “It’s okay.” You whisper.

“It’s not.” “It is. You’re a smart man, Miguel. You’ve done unimaginable things on your own. Your mind is what they need, but you? You don’t need their money. You have that brain of yours.” You tap his forehead and give him an encouraging grin. Miguel’s face falls into a relaxed smile, chuckling when you tap his forehead. “And you.” He whispers. “I have you.” He takes your hand off his shoulder and brings your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them. He keeps your hand against him until he breathes in and out slowly, looking up at you. “Thank you.” He mumbles, kissing your hand again before standing straight and moving his arms around your waist. “What would I do without you?” He grins tiredly. Your arms snake around his neck. “Probably die without me.” You giggled and he giggled with you. “Probably.” He hums while you look at each other, basking in the calm after the storm of emotions. “How about I bring us some tea?” You offer.

“No coffee?” “I think caffeine should be the least of your worries right now.” You roll your eyes playfully when you see his smirk. “English Breakfast?” You pat his chest before sliding away from his embrace, looking over your shoulder as you walk towards the exit. Miguel smiles and nods. “You know me so well.” He sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets after watching you leave. His smile drops from his face and he looks over at the giant green robotic tentacles. With a gentle hand, he caresses the silicon with care. Then, he moves onto the spinal cord of the device, wondering if Osborn just saw what he could do–then it would all be worth it. With a glance at the door, he makes sure the coast is clear before taking off his lab coat and shirt–and attaches the tentacles to his body.

You loved Miguel, honestly. The man you met was the sweetest. He was kind and caring, always patient and encouraging for new minds that wanted to learn. He was gentle. Was. You wondered where it all went wrong. Maybe you should’ve seen the signs. It seemed like everyday he would get slowly more agitated. Not at you. Never at you. More like, at the situation–at least you’d tell yourself that. You remember waking up one day in Miguel’s apartment. With your growing relationship, you decided to move in with him but it seemed like you were alone again. Miguel was sleeping at the lab more often than not. Other times you would have had to drag him out of his burrow, him snapping with red eyes that he needed to continue working. With a sigh, you shuffled out of bed, the other side being freezing cold, and got ready for work.

After clocking in, you found Miguel exactly where he was last night—hunched over and murmuring to himself. You place the tea you brought down onto the table along with a sleeping pill right next to him.

“Mi amor, you need to get some actual rest. It’s been days. You’ll wear yourself out.” You speak as quietly as possible to not scare him. Miguel doesn’t flinch, only shrugging you off.

“I’m almost done.” He grumbles.

“You’ve been saying that for weeks now.” You frown deeply and nudge the tea closer to him. “At this rate everything will be in vain. It won’t work if—“

“IT WILL WORK!” Miguel screams, slamming his fist onto the table enough to shake the cup of tea's contents, spilling the sleeping pill. “It has to!”

You jump back, heart racing at his outburst.

Miguel huffs and collects himself, anxiously running his hands through his hair. He drags his hands down his face and rubs his eyes.

“Sorry, shock, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to yell at you. You're right—it’s the, uh, lack of sleep.” He sounds exhausted. Every word slurring and when he relaxed even for a moment, his body drooped forward.

“You know better than to do that…” You whisper and he looks up at you with heartbreak in his eyes.

“I…I know, mi cielo—pero—“ Miguel gives you a weak smile, some light coming back to his eyes. “Look. Look! The—the arms! They’re almost complete!” He rushes towards you, ignorant to the way you step back and flinch when he takes your hand in his.

Miguel leads you to where the tentacles stand and presents it to you with a wide smile. “You see here?” He points to the spinal cord of the contraption. “All these ridges really gave me a run for my money. When trying to attach it to the body, they would stick and often fall. If these are to be used for prosthetics then it needs to not just be connected to the body but a part of it. As if the limb never left—or-or better—made better.” He laughs to himself, placing a hand over his mouth as he stares adoringly at the machine.

Meanwhile your eyes squint. “How…how would you know that? How would you know how they react to connecting to the human body? I thought…this was unstable for human testing.”

Miguel scoffs, waving his hand at you. “No one gets far in their inventions by worrying about the dangers, mija! THINK!” He shouts.

You’re horrified, darting your eyes between his bloodshot eyes and the tentacles. “You didn’t…”

Miguel is already on his way to the device and stands in front of it. The spine digs into Miguel’s back and he grunts, the vest he added secures around his waist, lighting up a soft green. The chip snaps into his neck and Miguel stumbles but regains balance. He slowly stands back up and the tentacles come to life, swirling and curling around him. In the midst of the tentacles wiggling around, it slammed against tables and chairs—knocking the tea you had gotten him to the floor.

“Think about how many lives we could save. Mi amor, mi vida, mi corazón, we’re at the brink of the next stage of human evolution!” His tentacles whip wildly around him as if cheering along with him.

“What…are you talking about?!” You yell, exasperated. “‘Human evolution’? Are you insane?!”

The bottom two green arms slam into the ground, breaking the floor as it’s crushed under the weight of Miguel. They lift him higher so he’s well above you—more than he already is. You take a step back, his height and strength becoming much more prominent.

“Do you think I’m insane, corazón?” Miguel asks softly. There’s a hint of green in his eyes.

“We’re—“ You gasp. “We’re meant to make prosthetics. Legs, arms—I thought this was a test to the future but this…” You run your eyes down the arms of the green silicon. Its claws are digging firm into the ground, holding up a six foot nine man’s weight with ease. Miguel’s face is contorted in a scowl, a burning rage underneath his beautiful brown eyes—a light green glowing in the highlights.

“This…is not you…” “What would you know about me?! You’re just some assistant that doesn’t know jackshit other than printing a few papers! All while I worked on this myself!” One of his upper tentacles slam next to you which makes you jump and lose your balance so you could fall to the ground.

“Day and night, all you did was be some aching headache, forcing me tea and pills when I should be wringing Osborn’s neck with my bare hands to show him what exactly he missed out on!” Miguel cackles, his tentacles lifting him higher like a God.

You’re afraid. Very afraid. It all happened so fast. Who was this man?

The tears well up in your eyes and for a minute—if you said another word it would trigger Miguel to kill you.

Miguel must’ve seen the terror on your face, tears bubbling at your water line and falling down your cheeks while you shivered. He must’ve because his sinister smile dropped slowly, his arms lowering him down.

“No, no, no—bella—no. That’s—it wasn’t me—“ Miguel’s feet finally touch the ground and when he does, he hisses, gripping his head as an agonizing headache surges through his mind. He groaned and moaned and took several steps back away from you.

“No! Don’t make her look at me like that! She’s afraid! Don’t scare her! Don’t make her fear me!” He screams, hyperventilating as his legs shake beneath him.

“What? No! I want Osborn! Not her! She didn’t do anything! Leave her alone! Please!” Miguel’s releases tears, giant globs flowing down his face as he faces an internal battle and the tentacles go haywire.

Finding your chance, you shakily get up from the floor, scrambling to your feet to the exit. You scream and fall after just a few steps, Miguel’s tentacles zipping past your head to break through the wall by the door. Another worker outside screams, peering through the hole and witnessing Miguel looking down at you with fury. They run off and it creates a domino effect for an evacuation.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Miguel growls and hovers closer to your shaking body. You turn over your shoulder, heart hammering in your ears and chest. You feel like you can’t breathe.

“Miggy…” You whimper. Miguel’s eye twitches and he looks like he’s struggling between himself and whatever it is that’s in his head.

He stutters your name out before his face is webbed and he groans. Four separate webs wrap around Miguel’s tentacles to attach to his body. Miguel glares up and sees a familiar red and blue suit with big white eyes.

“Don’tcha know it’s rude to be mean to a pretty lady?” The hero quips, standing front of you to protect you.

“Spider-Man…” You gasp—relief filling your chest.

“Spider-Man.” Miguel growls and rips himself free from the webs only to be hindered again once more—this time with stronger webs and with a force strong enough to stick him to a wall.

“Nope! Not yet! I’m still trying to figure out what exactly you are, so give me like five minutes to save some civilians. Thanks, you’re a swell guy!” Spider-Man winks and picks you up in his arms and quickly swings you away to safety.

You look over Spider-Man's shoulder while he swings away and you could barely hear Miguel scream in frustration, his body fighting against the webs. Inside, your heart breaks as you wonder if maybe there was a chance to save him.

A/N: i dont see doc ock miggys. i would like to see more.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine

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moonstruckme · 1 month

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i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say.

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.

“A date?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”

“And you…don’t want to have sex.”

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

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billskeis · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 beach days w the kaulitz twins

the water felt amazing to touch as you dipped your feet in. it’s been a while since you’ve actually been to the beach and had made plans to go with the kaulitz twins.

luckily, the plans made it out the groupchat and with your busy schedule as a solo artist and theirs as tokio hotel, everyone was able to follow through.

swimming by yourself, you moan in satisfaction to how the water cooled you down from the heat of the summer.

“bill! tom! hurry up!” you exclaimed to the twins as they begin to usher themselves towards the shore.

“fuck! it’s cold,” bill complained.

“man up bill, don’t be such a puss,”

“oh shut up tom!”

tom laughed but immediately gasped as the black haired twin splashes water, getting tom somewhat soaked.

“my..my hair..!”

“that’s what you get!!”

“you little shit.. wait, y/n?”

…

“oh shit y/n! i’m so sorry,” bill made his way towards you in the water, a little slow as the water provided a little resistance.

“y/n—FUCK..!”

“TOM—!”

“GERONIMOOOO!!¡!”

both you and bill screamed while bill fell into the water as tom leaped on top of him, the impact of the water and the weight of the two twin’s bodies held you underwater for seconds longer than they were.

tom was the first to raise his head from under the water, seeming to no longer care about his locs being wet.

giggling, he witnessed as his baby brother came up second gasping for air.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“hey! you started it first,”

“you fu—y’know what—nevermind.. where’s y/n?”

“dunno, weird.. she was just here,”

the twins called for you, voices muffled due to the body of water.

you hid underwater. in a panic. you have no fucking idea as what to do. the twins cannot see you like this.

imagine your childhood friends seeing you in this state. god, how fucking embarrassing.

your bikini top came off, and is nowhere near to be found in the water. it must’ve come undone when tom jumped on the two of you, that little shit.

you cannot hold your breath for any longer, fuck, what do you do?? it’s getting harder and harder to stay underwater. you panic, bubbles escaping as you then begin to gasp in the water.

fuck it.

you choke, but your head rises above from the water and the twins flinch at the splash of water and the uncalled for jumpscare.

“y/n!! are you okay??” bill exclaimed as he ushers himself closer to you in a worry, tom quietly following behind as he also worried.

“d-don’t come any closer,” you squeak as the twins stop in their tracks, “are you hurt?? why were you under the water for so long—oh..”

tom scrunches his face in confusion as he sees the surprised expression on bill’s face. your face heats a bright red as you realize that bill notices whats wrong, clutching your bare chest between your arms even closer.

“what?? what is it??” tom asks, “you’re not hurt right y/n?” you nod your head, slowly turning around to reveal the situation that is completely tom’s fault! how could he!?

he swallows a hard lump in his throat, swimming trunks becoming a bit tight. he questions whether it’s the heat from the sun or the fact that you’re presented topless in front of him.

bill cannot also help but feel a little bashful, as your back is turned to him he holds a hand to his mouth in shock, also hiding how red his face is.

“i—i think it’s time for me to go..”

“wait y/n! stay, the water is still so nice,”

why was he so insistent?

“how can i tom!? i lost my bikini top and it’s nowhere to be found..”

tom clutches the piece of fabric behind his back, he attempts to shove the garment down the trunks of his shorts without you noticing.

bill smirked as he places a hand on your shoulder, you turning to him to look up at how he smiles ear to ear.

“y/n.. do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

you gulp, what’s with this sudden change of atmosphere. bill’s body was way closer than expected you cannot stop but stare at the star tattoo that was peaking through his shorts.

“i, uhm..”

he’s really close, you’re getting all flustered and you don’t want him to catch on to that. he’s one of your best friends for god’s sake! get it together y/n..

as you begin to widen the gap between you and bill, your back hits a rock. there’s rocks this shallow on the shore?? you swore that the spot the three of you went to swim in was pretty open.

a hand grips your waist, you whip your head in shock to meet tom’s gaze, his lids a bit lowered as he bites his lip slightly to hold in a groan.

your backside was pressed onto his crotch, obviously hardened.

“y/n..”

“t-tom!”

in a frenzy, your attempt to escape was feeble as bill closed the once open gap between you two. completely sandwiched in between the twins, you look down to hide how completely shy and pathetic you look.

bill grabs one of your arms, you gasp in trying to hide your chest once more as he places the hand he ripped from you onto his lower groin.

“see what you do, y/n? god—we’ve been giving you so many signs but your little head just didn’t see them hm?”

“what’re you talking about??”

“cut the crap y/n,” tom chimes in from behind, “we want you. we like you. so bad. since the moment we met you,”

“…”

the twins?? like you?? no fucking way, not one but two?? unbelievable. your heart thumps an unexplainable speed as you cannot help but feel giddy and anxious given the current situation.

“i’ll ask again, schatzi, do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

bodies pressed against yours, you’re chest flush against bill’s, your hand no longer guarding the breasts you so desired to hide. with your back against tom’s chest, you feel everything.

did he get harder?

you tilt your head up to look at bill and tom, obviously grinning. they’re expectant. needy. spoiled. you’ve always given them whatever they wanted when asked for but this is just a whole other level.

with a sharp breath you inhale,

“yes.”

“f-fuck..!” you yelp as the constant touching of the twin’s on your cunt has your brain turning into mush.

as the three of you made it back to the hotel room, it started off with kissing. quick and rough, both using their mouths to work on two different areas at once.

bill suckled on the right of your nipples as tom’s tongue danced with yours. knees buckling, you’re now losing the strength to stand up.

“up we go!” tom lifts you up princess style after the two of them unlatched their mouths off you. body littered with hickeys, you’re gonna have to find out a way to cover these while also dealing with the malibu heat.

or not.

as tom lays you gently on the couch, he lays your head onto his lap as he bends down to place a kiss on your forehead, smiling.

bill taps your thigh to catch your attention, looking down at the only piece of clothing that had covered what the two of them really wanted.

“can i take them off?”

“mmhm,”

he slips your bikini bottoms off in no time, throwing them somewhere far away, heck, probably even out of the balcony window as all they wanted to see you in all of your glory 24/7.

“fuck y/n..” bill moans as you instantaneously spread your legs out in front of him, tom’s hands playing with your hair that fell onto his legs.

“i’m so glad you said yes.”

and that’s how you ended up where you are now.

moaning like a bitch in heat as you clutches the cushions of the couch with how tom moved his thumb in circles over your clit while bill had two of his digits fucking into you, purposely curving them to press on your g-spot again and again.

they bullied your cunt to their liking, and they fucking loved it.

loved the way your moans slipped out of your mouth, lips swollen from how hard you bit them to not let the noises slipped. but bill only went harder.

loved the way your tits bounced from the impact of how bill pistons his fingers in and out of your wet pussy.

loved the way your legs would convulse from attention and intricacy to how tom would rub your clit. nice and slow to ensure you felt everything, a grip on his shorts when you panicked at how an orgasm would quickly wash over the other.

“no..no more..! please!”

it was like, what, the fourth or fifth time you came?? after each and every one of them the twins would giggle and continue to wring them out of your body dry.

cooing sweet nothings to you as they promised they would ‘stop after this one’ or ‘just one more baby okay?’

“fuck schatzi.. you’re so wet.. so fucking hot, ” as tom slaps your pussy lightly, fingers hitting your clit just right.

“can’t believe we didn’t do this earlier.. you’re just so perfect y/n..” bill moans as he thrusts his hips against the couch, tom palming himself as he lolls his tongue out to play with his lip piercing.

they’re drunk off of just seeing you in such a state. they’re so happy, so happy that you let them toy with you as if they own you.

“h-hahh.. stop.. please—unnnggghh..!”

your gummy walls are nothing but sensitive, feeling everything as bill thrusts his fingers into you, a constant squelch of your pussy as he fucks you. it didn’t help that tom also wasn’t done with your clit, the hooded bud only ever sending electricity through your body.

and then it came down. either your fifth or sixth orgasm as your cunt spills with squirt, the couch now becoming soaked with your come.

“what a fucking sight.. look at this pussy..” tom kneads at the flesh of your breast with his free hand as he slows the pace of his thumb on your clit.

“mm.. good girl, y/n.. doing s’well for us..” as he leans down to lick a stripe up your torso starting from your belly button, tongue traveling as he reached below your breasts to now bring his head up.

the twins admired you and how you grind your hips into their hands to ride your orgasm out. are they finally done? they slowed down, god please let this be over you thought.

you almost fainted from the pleasure

tom props you up to his on his lap as he pecks your cheeks and shrugs your shoulders playfully as nothing ever happened.

your chest heaves to catch a breath, body soaked in sweat and your own juices. you softly smile, “you okay?” he asks, “y-yeah..”

bill hands you an opened bottle of water from the hotel fridge, you thank him and take a swig of the cooling liquid, “had fun?” he giggles.

“shut up..” you grumbled, the twins did nothing but laugh as they looked at you and then exchanged looks. bill kisses your lips after taking the water bottle into his own hands.

“you’re godsend y/n.. we enjoyed every moment of it,”

as bill sits beside tom, tom brings a blanket to cover the three of you. you nuzzle your body into the two of them, all exhausted from your indecencies.

“soooo about liking me..”

“we love you, y/n,” tom blurts out.

“really??”

“like, really,” bill responds.

“well shit.”

“do you not like us back??” tom asks with concern in his voice, bill pouts, a tinge of guilt in their chests as they felt like they’ve forced you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with.

“no shit! you think i was just gonna let you guys finger fuck me till’ i almost pass out if i didn’t like you??”

“oh,” they both say at the same time.

“i love youuuuu,” you say,

“love you too princess,” bill smiles like an idiot.

tom can only smother you in kisses, too shy to speak.

“hey!” bill does the same.

it is now a competition.

a/n : and there you have it, my first kaulitz twins x reader fic ! also im so sorry i havent posted in like almost a week, on top of school i went clubbing for st pattys weekend and my drunk ass fell down a flight of stairs, i fucked up my knees and fingers . pray for a speedy recovery y’all 😭😭

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

Text

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

#in this universe eddie munson co-wrote tolerate it #i know what song they wrote together but I’m keeping it to myself lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson

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blackhairedjjun · 15 days

Text

the yearning club - c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, only a little bit of angst, misunderstanding trope, implied university au (if you squint), best friends to lovers, kissing in the rain | word count: 921 | warnings: none, this is just unbelievably cheesy lmao

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - RAIN: sender reveals their love for the receiver while they’re both standing outside in the pouring rain. (requested by @boba-beom: “a misunderstanding(?) trope where you and gyu were becoming distant because you thought he was seeing someone but it was just a friend and he confesses to you outside your house in the rain”)

author's notes: hi smiles! this request is so classic romance aaaa sdklfjksldf i got a little carried away w this! but this was very fun to write, i hope you like it <3

the rain pours unceasingly outside your bedroom window, the sound like white noise. it nearly drowns out the playlist you’re listening to through cheap earbuds, the music itself already muffled from the duvet you wrapped around yourself in bed. still, the noise doesn’t drown out the thoughts you’re trying to distract yourself from.

it’s useless to worry, your rational side says. beomgyu and yui would have canceled their plans anyway because of the rain.

but what if they decided to move their date indoors? your heart objects. or they could be dancing in the rain together...

you curl up into yourself and screw your eyes shut, listening to the playlist beomgyu made for you. though you try not to imagine your best friend 一 the same best friend you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember 一 dancing in the rain with the friend who said she would ask him out, the mental image is hard to erase. it feels more real than anything you’ve imagined. even as you shut your eyes more tightly, you can practically hear beomgyu’s voice.

the voice is a little too real...

“y/n!”

you jolt up from your bed when you realize that you can, in fact, hear beomgyu screaming your name through the downpour. you rush out of your room, forgetting to grab an umbrella, and throw your door open to find him indeed out in the street, so drenched that his hair and clothes cling to his form.

“beomgyu?!”

“y/n! you heard me!” despite being soaked and shivering in the rain, beomgyu looks radiant. his smile spreads across his whole face, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“are you crazy?! it’s raining! you’re drenched, gyu!”

“i’m sorry, y/n! i couldn’t wait any longer! i 一 i have to tell you something!”

“you couldn’t just call me?!”

“no, this is important!”

you run out into the street yourself, not caring about the rain soaking every inch of your skin and clothes, and grab beomgyu by the shoulders. “whatever it is, you can do it insi一”

“i love you!”

he’s still smiling like a lovestruck fool. the rainfall does nothing to hide the shine in his eyes, nor the blush that starts to spread across his face. somehow he’s shimmering in the rain, and despite the wet locks of hair clinging to his forehead he looks beautiful.

“i love you,” he says again. his voice is quieter but somehow louder that the torrent pouring down on the both of you.

you blink and your eyes go wide. you’re so stunned that his confession doesn’t even register in your mind properly. you hear i love you, i love you, i love you echoing in your head, but it takes a few moments for its meaning to sink in.

“b-but... yui... your date...”

“date?” beomgyu tilts his head at you.

“i heard her say she would finally ask out the guy she’s in love with. i thought that guy... was you...”

he tilts his head back in a long laugh, not mocking but relieved. your heart stops for a moment at the sound. the rain soaks his hair and face even more.

“no, she asked out that guy in her sociology class. y’know, the one she’s actually in love with.”

“so she doesn’t...”

“of course not, y/n.” beomgyu steps closer to your and pushes away a wet lock of hair clinging to your face. your heart stops again, and you find yourself gazing into his eyes. “yui and i, we called ourselves the yearning club. we made a bet that we would confess to the ones we loved at the end of this week, so today’s the last day.” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “and the one i loved... is you.”

you let out a giggle that turns into laughter, then just as quickly turns into sobs of relief. your tears mix with the raindrops, nearly blurring out your vision. “gyu... i really thought...”

“sorry i was too shy to tell you.” his smile is smaller now, reminding you of the shy smile he had when you first met. “i didn’t know if you一”

“i love you too.”

you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand, useless as the gesture is, and meet beomgyu’s eyes again. at that moment it becomes clear to you: the shine in his eyes is his affection.

your best friend’s eyes go wide and he takes another step towards you. his forehead rests on yours. “you love me...?”

“i love you.”

“y/n...”

you can do nothing more but nod and lean towards him.

your lips part and he takes the invitation to kiss you. his lips are soft, and you taste both his lip balm and something saltier 一 is it the rain, or did he cry too? 一 and you feel firm hands bringing you closer still. despite the rain soaking both of you, you feel warm, both from his body enveloping yours and the new feeling blooming in your chest.

he pulls apart from you just to gaze at you, and you feel your face grow warm at the way he admires your every feature. then he pulls you back into his embrace and the two of you sway in the rain, with you smiling into the crook of his neck. each raindrop now seems like a blessing from the heavens themselves.

you’ve never loved the rain more than you did at that moment.

#txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #beomgyu fanfic #bhj originals #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 11)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 11 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

dinner with charles and the rest of your family comes with high expectations and heavy disappointments. one thing's for certain, lando's not going anywhere and neither are you

word count: 7.2k tags/warnings: implied smut, literally the worst translated french ever if someone wants to fix it by all means pls help me out, some sad tugs on the heart strings, i think thats it, also poorly edited

There were two sides to Lando Norris.

You already knew of the sweet and considerate side. The one that opened car doors for you, that took care of you even though you never asked to be cared for. This was the side of Lando that you fell hard for because he was all heart and cheeky grins and stupid eye rolls that had you blushing.

And then there was the side that you didn’t even know existed until you woke up to him leaving a trail of kisses down your body before slowly spreading your legs apart. The side that had you seeing stars and screaming his name before you could even register being awake.

Lando was insatiable, to put it simply.

And you weren’t complaining.

How could you complain when he joined you in the shower and pressed his lips to your neck as he pinned you against the porcelain wall. Your cheek against the cold tile, the stream of hot water coming down from above, his cock so deep inside you that you relied on him to keep you upright.

Yeah, you couldn’t complain.

Lando seemed to be on a mission to make you cum more times in twelve hours than you had in the last two years. He got so much pleasure from bringing you to the edge and watching as you spilled over.

You made sure to return the favour. Not even waiting until you were out of the bathroom before dropping down to your knees. Lando has one hand on the edge of the sink, the other hand tangled through your hair. Strings of expletives meshed so well with his encouraging words, telling you how fucking pretty you looked choking on his cock.

And honestly, that first shower was a write-off. You eventually needed to push Lando out of the bathroom to give you the chance to actually get ready for the day.

It was hard for the two of you to keep your hands off each other and to be fair, you didn’t really try. Sure, you put on a show, but ten minutes in and you were by far more entertaining than whatever rom-com you had chosen.

The day got away from you, to say the least.

It wasn’t until Lando asked you what you wanted for dinner did you suddenly bolt upright on the couch, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Lando, who had his hand on the handle of the fridge, slowly backed away from it as he tried to gauge what was going through your head, “Okay, or we could order something?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you stood up as you rushed to answer Arthurs text. He was already at your maman’s place and you couldn’t multitask to save your life so you didn’t even try to explain yourself to Lando until you sent Pascale a text saying that you had accidentally fallen asleep and are headed there now. It was a lie, but it was better than the alternative which would undoubtedly give her a heart attack.

“What’s up?” Lando asked, heading back towards you, eyeing your phone.

You dragged your fingers through your hair, “I forgot I promised to go to my maman’s house for dinner.” You turned and headed down the hall, “I need to change..can you- I don’t have any clothes here do I?”

Lando followed you, picking up the mini skirt you abandoned last night and the top that could have quite literally doubled as a bra. All day you had been lounging around in Lando’s clothes, having completely forgotten about your dinner plans.

“Just you and your mum?” Lando asked, he stepped into his closet but there was no way he had anything that was appropriate for dinner.

“Um, and Arthur and Enzo,” you added quietly, finding a brush on top of his dresser and running it through your hair. You kept Charles’ name out of your mouth, not feeling up to bringing him into the conversation.

Lando stepped back into his room, eyebrows raised at your frantic actions, “Did you want me to drive you? We can stop at your place on the way so you can change.”

You didn’t just want him to drive you, you wanted him to join you. But to throw this on him so last second wasn’t fair.

You accepted the ride to dinner, but you kept the invite to yourself.

Lando waited in the car as you ran in and changed, making yourself more presentable. It took under five minutes to put something appropriate on and get rid of any signs that you and Lando had been nothing but tangled limbs and heated kisses and desperate moans for the last 12 hours.

You were thankful that Lando was careful. Any marks that bruised your skin overnight weren’t visible to anyone other than you two. Some were darker than others, but you didn’t let yourself think of Lando’s lips exploring every inch of you, not while he was currently idling outside and waiting for your return.

When you slid back into the passenger seat, Lando waited before putting the car into drive. He nodded his head towards the phone that rested on the dash, your phone, that you had left while you ran inside.

Not only that, but you left it unlocked.

You had nothing to hide, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Arthur had texted you twice since you stepped out of the car.

Charles is here btw, seems to be in a fine mood Are you bringing Lando?

When you looked up at Lando, he just had a smug little smile on his face. He wasn’t mad that you hadn’t invited him to dinner, nor was he upset that Charles was there after you purposely avoided saying his name.

“You told your brother about me?” Lando asked, finding the whole thing endearing. It was one thing if the drivers knew you were together, telling your family was entirely different.

“To an extent,” you shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “He knows we’ve been hanging out. I think a lot of people do.”

“Hanging out,” Lando repeated, mocking the naive term.

“Well maybe if you asked me out I could tell him you’re my boyfriend.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so picky about me planning a grand gesture,” Lando flipped the sarcasm on you and you playfully pressed your hand to his cheek, pushing his face away from yours.

“I deserve a grand gesture,” you told him.

Lando nodded in agreement, “But nothing embarrassing?”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Anything for the Littlest Leclerc.”

You positioned yourself on the seat so your upper half was practically leaning over the centre console. Lando’s smile had yet to vanish as his gaze darted to every inch of your face, landing on your lips before he glanced up to meet your eyes.

Out of nowhere, you felt giddy. You felt the excitement of butterflies in your stomach. You looked at Lando and suddenly you wanted him to come to dinner. You wanted your mother to see him as someone other than a driver. You wanted him to get to know your other brothers. You wanted to introduce him to the part of your life that no one had ever seen before.

“Come with me,” your quiet request echoed through the car. “To dinner.”

Lando’s eyebrows raised in response. He wasn’t against the idea, but he wasn’t tripping over his words to agree either.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You don’t think it’s too soon to meet your family?”

“Well you’ve already met my mother,” you pointed out, thinking of the few times they had interacted during race weekends.

Lando rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before smiling. Your nose nudged against his and again, those butterflies returned.

“I want you there,” you said.

“Then I want to be there.”

Two sides to Lando.

And this was the side you were falling incredibly hard for. The side that made you want to show him off to everyone you knew. The side that made you forget why you were nervous to see Charles in the first place.

Lando kissed you once more before he pulled his eyes to the road. You sat back in your seat and your hand stayed connected with his for the remainder of the drive.

——————

You opened the door to your maman’s place, reaching for Lando’s hand as you stepped inside. There was no one in the general area, but you could hear voices flooding in through the balcony. With it being such a beautiful day, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that everyone was already outside.

Lando was looking around, undoubtedly feeling very out of his element as he stood in the childhood home of another driver. His eyes landed on some old photos and his usual bubbly personality was replaced with solemn and an expression so tense that it had you feeling uneasy in your mother’s own home.

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand as you stepped closer to him and the wall that held a variety of memories in frames. Lando nodded, acknowledging that he heard you, but his eyes were locked on a specific photo.

It was Charles in a kart, probably about ten years old at the time. Next to him knelt Jules, the biggest smile on his face.

Lando pointed at the young girl balancing on Jules’ knee, a bright red toy car between her fingers. His gaze then turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I was about five years old, I think,” you said, trying to think back to when exactly that picture was taken. You leaned your head against Lando’s arm as images of your childhood rushed back to you. Some were pure memories that belonged to, others were flashes of stories you had heard that your mind had tricked you into thinking you remembered.

But this day, you remembered.

“I wanted to race too,” a breath of laughter followed that admittance. “Or at least I thought I did. Jules would have never actually let me drive that thing, I was too young, but he put me in and I remember getting so scared. I kept thinking it would start and just take off and it was instant tears for me.”

Lando nudged your side, “Your dreams of being a driver were short lived.”

“Very much so,” you laughed. You tapped your finger against the mini you behind the glass. “Jules gave me a toy Ferrari to keep me distracted and it worked for the most part. But when Charles got in the kart I got scared for him. Jules had to hold me the entire time he was going around the track, assuring me that Charles was safe, that he-”

Lando noticed the way your voice caught in your throat. He slipped his hand out of yours to drape his arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your forehead.

You told yourself you were fine. You were fine, this was a happy memory, it was a good day. It was just one you hadn’t thought about in a while.

Lando didn’t want you to sit in your thoughts. He propped his finger under your chin, tilting your face up, “Do you think a toy Ferrari would still work to distract you?”

The corner of your lips curled upwards and you rolled your eyes at his attempt at bringing some humour into this conversation.

“No, but maybe a real Ferrari would.”

“Yeah I’m not buying you a Ferrari,” Lando scoffed, turning you both around and away from the photo wall. You glanced at it over your shoulder once more, but when the sliding door to the balcony opened, the pictures were yet again just a memory.

You stepped out of Lando’s embrace when Pascale looked up and saw you. A grin spread across her cheeks and she was quick to put down the bottle of wine in her hands. You practically hopped across the kitchen floor to give her a hug, rocking side to side in her tight embrace.

“Bonjour, maman,” you sighed happily. It had been a few weeks since you had actually spent time with her. When you pulled back she started asking you about the wedding you attended, about London, about what you’ve been up to, but of course she was speaking in French. Lando, who stood quietly behind you, had absolutely no idea what was being said.

“Attends, maman,” Wait mom. You said, cutting her off before this conversation could go further. You glanced at Lando and ushered him over with just a head nod. “C’est Lando.” This is Lando.

Pascale looked at you like you were missing a few brain cells and honestly, you sort of felt like you were. Obviously she knew who Lando was. The question was what was he doing in her home.

“Chérie, je sais qui c'est.” Sweetheart, I know who he is.

Your maman knew Lando as a driver. Someone from a rival team, someone that Charles competed against. She probably didn’t think much of it that he was there, it wasn’t uncommon for Charles to invite another driver or two to a get-together.

But when you reached for Lando’s hand and pulled him closer to you, Pascale’s eyes lit up. There was a faint gasp of surprise, but it was her heartwarming smile of approval that lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You had never brought someone home before, someone that you wanted to introduce to your family. And even though Lando didn’t need any introduction, it was clear that he wasn’t just a driver. Your fingers intertwined with his and your cheeks turned a light shade of pink when Pascale pointed between the two of you.

As your mother, she wanted nothing but happiness for you. She didn’t care that Lando was a Formula 1 driver, all she saw was you clinging to a guy, something that she’s never seen before. There was an obvious connection, one that you hadn’t let yourself have before and Pascale could see that.

“I hope it’s okay that I invited him,” your voice was timid as you glanced towards the patio doors. All of your brothers were out there, none of them had noticed you yet.

“Of course!” she cheered, reaching forward to squeeze Lando’s arm lovingly. “Vous ne parlez pas le Français?”

“No,” you answered for him, feeling Lando tense up beside you as he tried to figure out what he was just asked. “No, he doesn’t speak French.”

“Oh that is not a problem,” Pascale brushed the language aside. She wanted to make Lando feel comfortable in her home, which was just another breath of fresh air for you. At least your maman was supportive, she would be inclusive towards Lando tonight.

Your brothers were another story.

The patio door slid open again and this time it was Enzo and Arthur who walked in. They greeted you from across the room, both in French, but their ‘bonjours’ and ‘ca va’s’ were cut off when they recognised Lando.

“C'est nouveau,” This is new. Enzo teased, his finger darting back and forth between you and Lando as he poured himself a glass of wine.

Arthur glanced out to the patio where Charles remained, “Tu ne lui a pas dit a propos de Lando, pas vrai?” You didn’t tell him about Lando, did you?

Poor Lando, just staring at you waiting for a translation or for you to answer on his behalf. He genuinely couldn’t tell what your brothers were saying, but he hoped it wasn’t anything negative.

“English, boys,” Pascale clapped her hands together as she moved to stand between Arthur and Enzo. She wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing gently as she smiled back at you and Lando. Both sons had quite a few inches on her but they let her pull them into her sides without any sort of fight. “Lando does not speak French. We will be good hosts, yes?”

“C’est lui qui vit à Monaco,” He’s the one who lives in Monaco. Enzo snorted, earning a smack upside the head from your maman. He held his hand up in defence, palm facing Lando, “Sorry, mate.”

“All good,” Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t want to put anyone out of place, but Pascale was notorious for making sure her guests were comfortable and respected. If that meant she had to learn another language, she probably would without question.

“Lando, wine?” She offered, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard.

“Oh he’s not a wine drinker and-” you spoke up, inhaling a sharp breath through your teeth. You glanced up at Lando, “-and I don’t know why I’m speaking for you. You have a voice.”

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, but he didn’t seem offended that you answered on his behalf. If anything, he was a little surprised that you remembered that little detail about him.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Pascale told him, still pouring a glass for you knowing that you sure as hell wouldn’t turn down wine. She had just stepped around the kitchen island to hand it to you when the patio door opened for the third time.

Charles didn’t even look at you. His eyes immediately went to Lando.

Lando waved awkwardly, “Hey, Charles.”

Completely disregarding him, he turned to Pascale, “Ce devait être un dîner de famille." It was supposed to be a family dinner.

Lando leaned towards you and whispered, “What did he say?”

You shook your head, he didn’t need to know that Charles was already choosing to let this evening turn sour. “Tu peux être poli au moins.” You can at least be polite. You told Charles, only to be met with an eye roll in response.

“So the eye rolls run in the family?” Lando asked.

“Can you just-” you turned to him suddenly, but stopped yourself from being unintentionally rude. Lando was just trying to make a joke, that’s what he did in any given situation. It wasn’t his fault that Charles’ bad attitude was now affecting how you were acting. You placed your hand on his chest, playing with the string of his jumper, “Let’s go outside, yeah?”

Charles turned around as well but Pascale was quick to jab her finger against her son's chest before he could go anywhere, “Behave, Charles.”

It was a warning that held very little merit. Charles would mutter something under his breath in French about how Lando wasn’t actually invited as the group of you all made your way outside. Pascale stayed inside to finish up dinner and you offered to help but one look from her and you both knew you’d be needed outside with the men boys.

The patio was large. The outdoor couch shaped like an ‘L’ was spacious enough to fit all five of you comfortably. But Charles still opted for one of the chairs, resting his leg over the other as he leaned back and watched as Lando made himself comfortable on the patio furniture, or at least tried to.

The second that Lando put his hand on your thigh, Charles’ eyebrows twitched and Lando retracted his hand, leaving it in his own lap.

This was awkward for everyone.

Well, maybe not so much Arthur and Enzo whose heads were moving back and forth between you like they were watching a tennis match, just waiting to see what sort of moves any of you would make.

You hadn't spoken to Charles since you left Silverstone. You weren’t there for him when he DNF’d near the end of the race. You weren’t there to tell him that he still had plenty of chances left this season to do work his way up the standings.

Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, clear the air.

“I’m sorry about your retirement last weekend,” you said, feeling unusually timid. Charles wasn’t someone who you often felt small around. You looked up to him, sure, but you never felt the need to be careful around him, until now.

Charles sighed loudly, “Is this you taking responsibility for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm,” Charles scratched the stubble that grew along his jaw. “You don’t think everything you told me minutes before I had to get in the car affected my race at all?”

Nevermind, you weren’t shy to speak what was on your mind. You were annoyed.

“You don’t think leaving your personal life outside the track is something you should probably do?” You retorted, with even more sarcasm than his tone carried. “I mean, you’ve done it before. Weren’t you the one who broke up with Cha literally days before a race weekend and still went on to get a podium?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right,” you scoffed, leaning back against the cushions as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You brought my life onto the track with you in Silverstone. I never asked you to do that.”

To your right, Arthur nudged your side, “Take it easy, Y/N.”

Charles moved on from the topic of the race as his glare narrowed in on Lando. “Vous êtes ensemble, c'est ça?” So, you two are dating?

Lando looked at you, hoping you would, again, either translate or answer for him.

“You know he doesn’t speak French.”

“Toute la famille parle Français,” This whole family speaks french. Charles leaned forward, “You’re just going to show up at my mother’s house and demand everyone speak English for your convenience?”

Lando rapidly shook his head, “That didn’t-”

You promptly cut him off, “Don’t be an ass for the sake of just being an ass, Charles.”

“Mate I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Lando chimed in. His hand went to your leg again and even when Charles eyed the point of contact with disapproval, Lando didn’t move it. “I just like hanging out with your sister. And for some reason she likes hanging out with me too.”

There was that term again. Hanging out. But this time when he said it, you knew Lando was only trying to downplay everything for Charles’ sake. Charles didn’t need to know any of the details of your relationship, he just needed to get it through his head that you were together.

The patio door opened and Pascale came out, holding the glass of wine you had forgotten to grab. You thanked her kindly and without exchanging a word, the mother-daughter bond you shared spoke volumes when you sent a glance across the patio towards Charles.

Pascale tsk’d, shaking her head at the Formula 1 driver, “I said behave, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles retorted. “He’s the one that shows up invited.”

“I invited him,” you snapped.

Enzo leaned forward, directing his attention to Lando to try and steer this conversation elsewhere. He started asking the Brit about his family and Arthur gave you an encouraging nod. Maybe tonight just started off wrong, it had potential to get better.

But of course those were high expectations.

Dinner was horrible.

The glares sent across the table towards you and Lando were impossible to ignore. Charles purposely spoke French and even though Pascale reminded him four times that Lando didn’t understand, Charles only responded that it wasn't his problem.

He was being uncharacteristically rude, and Charles’ reputation was that he was one of the nicest drivers on the grid. That was a reputation you agreed with, up until now.

He was trying to make Lando uncomfortable, trying to find any reason to exclude him, ensuring that Lando knew he didn’t approve of your relationship.

You tried to ignore it, really. You were there to talk to your maman, to catch up with Enzo, to introduce Lando to everyone else in the family.

But eventually you just grew tired of biting your tongue for the sake of keeping the peace.

“You’re insufferable, do you realise that?” You finally blurted out. Arthur and Enzo stifled their laughter and next to you, Lando dropped his hand to your leg. He had been respectful all dinner, keeping his hands on the table where everyone could see, but he knew that you needed the support in the form of a comforting squeeze.

“Big words for the person who pays for all of your trips. There's nothing insufferable about the private jets from Monaco to Spain to London, are there?" Charles barely looked up from his food, shoving his fork into his mouth and letting his words sink in.

“Oh you’ve been waiting to use that line haven’t you?”

Charles ignored you, glancing towards Lando, “You’ve got her trips covered now, yeah?”

“Charles,” Pascale warned. She had stayed quiet for the most part, not wanting to get involved, trying to believe that it was just siblings being siblings.

But it was so much more than that.

“I don’t know why you think I’m so reliant on you, but I can assure you, I’m not,” you shot back, not giving Lando a chance to share his two cents. “But if I was really struggling, there’s about six other drivers on the grid I can call up to help me out. We all know they love my presence in the paddock more than yours.”

Again, Charles chose to ignore you. His stare remained on Lando, “You’re really going to let her talk about the other drivers right in front of you?”

You slammed your hand on the table, demanding that he give you his attention for once. Charles didn’t flinch, but everyone else did. Charles just leaned back in his chair, arrogance painted his face.

“Pourquoi ça te dérange tant que je sois avec lui?” Why do you care so much that I’m with him?

“Pourquoi tu es avec lui? C'est ça la question.” Why are you with him? That’s the question.

You and Charles continued to raise your voices at each other across the table in French, saying anything and everything that came to mind, anything and everything that could hurt the other. Your brothers understood everything, your mother was waiting to see if she needed to intervene, and Lando had absolutely no idea what was happening, he didn’t speak French.

But he understood some phrases.

“Va te faire enculer!” You practically screamed. Go fuck yourself.

Lando was taken aback and he turned to you with wide eyes. You would have loved to excuse yourself from the table at this point, to take Lando and go back to his place, but your mother wasn’t about to let either of you get away with the bullshit that’s been happening all night.

Pascale snapped her fingers, calling for the attention of everyone in the room, but her gaze darted back and forth between you and Charles only. She pointed at you and then at him and then at the kitchen, “Dinner’s over. Both of you, you’re on clean up.”

It wasn’t uncommon in your youth for Pascale to split the household chores between the kids. She had four of them and like any typical mother, she taught her kids the importance of cleaning and pitching in around the house.

But you didn’t even live there anymore.

You would have volunteered to help regardless, but the fact that she was assigning you and Charles to dish duty now that you had finished eating was a telling sign that the two of you needed to work your shit out.

Pascale pushed her chair away from the table and nodded towards the living room as her glare directed at her kids shifted to a warm gaze at Lando, “Come on, Lando, I’ve always wanted to show off baby pictures of Y/N. It’s a right of passage as her mother.”

“Maman, don’t, please,” you pleaded, but it was too late. Lando had practically jumped out of the chair and followed Pascale to the couch.

Arthur and Enzo stood up as well, they didn’t have any interest in reliving your childhood through the photo albums, but they also didn’t want to hang out in the kitchen and be uninvited witnesses to whatever you and Charles were undoubtedly going to argue about.

You stood up from your chair, collecting a few dishes from the table, “I wash, you dry.”

“You always wash.”

“Because everytime you wash you end up breaking plates in the sink and then it becomes a bigger mess for everyone.”

Charles had no comeback for that, he really couldn’t argue with facts. So reluctantly, he found himself standing elbow to elbow with you as you handed him the clean plates for him to dry and put away.

Neither of you said a word.

Which was not Pascale’s intention.

Hearing laughter behind you, you both glanced over your shoulders, catching each other's eyes momentarily before you stepped away from the sink to clear off some more dishes from the table.

Your back was towards Charles when you looked up and saw Lando making his way towards you, a small wallet sized insert photo of you between his thumb and forefinger. You were maybe seven years old there, missing one of your front teeth just in time for picture day at school.

“This is adorable,” Lando told you, “Your mum said I can keep it.”

“You absolutely will not,” you rolled your eyes, stacking the glasses on top of each other.

“You were such a cute kid,” Lando cooed, looking at the picture again. You already knew the question that was going to follow when he turned back towards you, “What happened?”

“Ha ha,” you mocked, flipping your middle finger up at him.

Behind you, Charles cleared his throat. You turned and saw him standing with his back leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with the empty drying rack behind him.

“We can go after I finish cleaning,” you told Lando, sounding apologetic on behalf of how Charles had been treating him all night.

Lando felt bad. He didn’t want you to rush out of there because Charles was making this uncomfortable for everyone. He liked getting to know Pascale and your brothers a bit better. Enzo and Arthur didn’t have a problem with Lando’s presence.

It was just Charles.

“Why?” Lando asked, raising his voice slightly even though this was supposed to be more of a private conversation. He wanted Charles to hear. “I’ve got no plans tonight. We can stay as long as you want. Unless-” Lando looked over your shoulder towards Charles. “Do you want us to leave?”

“I want you to leave,” Charles mumbled and you all but slammed the glasses back on the dining room table as you turned around to face your asshole of a brother.

“Okay, you know what?” you inhaled a heavy breath, hands clamming up in seconds as you suddenly felt very confined within the kitchen. “I have been nothing but supportive of you for your entire career. Is it possible, that for once, to just take a step back and be supportive of me?”

“Supportive of what?” Charles scoffed, gesturing towards Lando. “That you’re dating him? That’s not something I need to be supportive of. It’s not an achievement or a career, Y/N, you haven’t done anything! You slept with a driver, congratulations! Should I call up Pierre and Carlos and invite them over as well? Make it a whole affair?”

You weren’t sure when Lando stepped around the table to stand at your side but you’re thankful he did. He was there to put a loving hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb over your skin as Charles’ words hit you hard. It felt like someone was pressing all of their weight against your chest and you struggled to find your words as much as you fought to take a breath.

You could have screamed at him. You wanted to.

Your brother couldn’t separate you, his sister, from you, his biggest fan. To him, those two things were supposed to coincide.

And for so long, they did.

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, voice trembling along with your hands. You were going to pretend like Charles’ words didn’t hurt you and you were going to remove yourself from this conversation before it could take any more difficult turns, before this got uglier. You looked up at Lando, “We’re leaving.”

This was when Pascale interjected again. She stood up from the couch, the painful look of disappointment plastered all over her features.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval, apologise to your sister.”

“All the middle names,” Arthur whispered, but unfortunately for him the room was deafeningly silent and everyone heard his little comment. He cowered back into the couch, hoping that if he just stared at Charles long enough, the attention would go back to him.

And it did. Charles shook his head, “I’m not apologising for anything.”

Charles was a lost cause. It was a battle you didn’t have the energy to fight any more tonight.

You reached for your maman, squeezing her hand before going in for a hug. She apologised, of course she did. The last thing she wanted was to see her kids fight.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” You told her and she nodded before moving in to give Lando a hug as well. She told him he was always welcome there when Lando thanked her for the dinner and for showing him the photo albums.

Lando said goodbye to Arthur and Enzo and then reached for your hand, tugging you into his side as you walked out of the house. You waved at Pascale as you made your way towards the car and you could see her expression shift into a glare as she turned around to give Charles a stern talking to before the door fully shut.

Like usual, Lando reached for the passenger door to open it for you, but he stopped you before you could get in by pulling you into his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, his other hand finding your cheek to tilt your face up to meet his. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

A deep exhale passed through your lips, “You are the last person who should be apologising.”

“Yeah, well, the person who should be apologising isn’t going to,” Lando scoffed. “But you still deserve to hear it.”

Lando kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose and when you tilted your chin up just a little more, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you get into the car.

He slid into the drivers side and had just started to reach for his seatbelt before he let it retract above his shoulder.

“I left my wallet inside, I’ll be right back,” Leando leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek, opening up the car door again.

“I can go in and get it,” you offered, not wanting to have to subject Lando to Charles again.

“I’ll be two seconds, it’s fine.” He assured you, not leaving any room for discussion. He made his way up the walkway and you watched from the confinement of his car as he rapped his knuckles against the door.

It was Pascale who answered, obviously. She didn’t seem surprised to see Lando, moreso thankful if anything.

“Lando, I’m so sorry,” Pascale said to him again, reaching for his arm to give it a squeeze. Pascale was a very touchy person, Lando came to realise, and you were cautious when it came to physical attention. Lando wondered where your closed off tendencies came from. He also wondered when that shift came between you two when you started to lean into his touches and being the one to reach for his hand first.

“You really have nothing to apologise for,” Lando said, his typical grin making another reappearance. He wasn’t going to let Pascale take responsibility for her son’s actions. He also wasn’t going to let it get to him the way Charles intended.

She invited him inside, asking if he left anything and he told you that he did. But once inside, Charles shook his head and glanced around, “I actually just wanted to get a few more words with Charles quickly.”

Pascale nodded knowingly and pointed towards the balcony. Arthur sent him a smile that could have either read good luck or be careful, but Lando didn’t let himself think too much of it as he crossed the floor and slid the patio door open.

Charles glanced up from his phone and rolled his eyes when he saw who had joined him.

Lando much preferred your eye rolls. They were usually playful and teasing. You were never actually annoyed with him. He didn’t see your eye rolls and think of all of the exit routes like he was doing now as he stepped outside.

Choosing to sit in the chair as opposed to joining Charles on the couch, Lando leaned forward and clasped his hands together atop of knees.

This was strange for both of them.

Lando and Charles were friends. They got along well most of the time. They respected each other as people, as drivers. It wasn’t until Lando became more involved with you did Charles start to see the British driver in a different light.

“You know I would never hurt her, right?” Lando started off by getting right to the point. The line that was drawn between them was you and Lando needed them both to be on the same side of this line, not vying for what they thought was best in their own opinions.

“She’s not thinking about the consequences, Lando,” Charles took him by surprise, not coming back with attitude or with a bitter rebuttal, but with a voice of reason. “She’s happy, sure, but have either of you thought about the media presence in the paddock? What people might say? How might this affect your performance and mine? Formula 1 is hard enough as it is, mate. Racing aside, there are so many external factors that neither of you are considering.”

Lando nodded, piecing together what Charles was getting at, but he wasn’t someone who was easily persuaded. It took Lando weeks to work his way into your life, he wasn’t about to throw any of it away because Charles was sending him an intimidating glare.

“Charles, she’s spent her whole life considering those things,” Lando spoke calmly.

You made it clear you didn’t want a fight and he had your back, not wanting to start an argument either.

“Her own life takes a backseat to support you, to be your biggest fan. She, for the most part, has stayed out of trouble, stayed out of the spotlight so you could shine, so there would be no tarnishing of the Leclerc name. She’s been there for you during the best and the worst of times. All she’s ever wanted was to see you succeed.” Lando shook his head, as he recalled one of your first conversations. “When I took her out in Montreal, she was the one that told me she doesn’t date drivers. That wasn’t a rule you had set for her, that was something she decided for herself. Her fears controlled her, she didn’t want to have to worry about you and someone else during a race-”

“What, so now she’s just going to worry about you?” Charles cut him off and Lando could sense that he was growing more agitated with each passing second.

“No, you idiot,” Lando had to tell himself to keep a straight face. “She’s not letting her fears control her anymore. She’s choosing to believe that what happens in the real world doesn’t affect what happens on the track. She doesn’t want to worry about either of us. She wants to cheer both of us on, and you’re selfishly putting her in a position where she has to choose.”

Lando pressed his palms against his legs and stood up from the chair, essentially ending the conversation there before Charles could think of something else to add, another reason as to why they shouldn’t date that would inevitably go in one ear and out the other.

When Lando reached for the handle of the patio door, he paused before sliding it open, “I’m not trying to take her from you, or from her family. I just want her to be happy and you should want that for her too."

“I do,” Charles agreed, but his words didn’t match the tone, like he was fighting with himself.

Lando wasn’t going to offer any suggestions as to how Charles could stop getting in the way. It wasn’t up to Lando to remind Charles what his place was in your life, that was for him to figure out on his own. Lando simply nodded at the Monegasque driver and walked back inside.

Pascale walked him to the front door, apologising one last time for her son's words and actions throughout the night, but Lando assured her that he still had a great time. She invited him back, telling Lando that she was happy to see her daughter look so at peace for once.

All while Lando was inside your mother’s home, you sat in his car, adjusting the air conditioning and the angle of the seat. You flipped the radio on, but at this time of night there were only remixes and horrible cookie-cutter pop songs that you just couldn’t stand.

You just wanted to distract yourself because Lando was taking a while. He said two seconds but you watched the digital clock on the screen slowly change and it had been at least two minutes since he shut the front door behind him.

You turned the radio off and opened up the glove box, hoping for an instruction manual on how to connect your phone to the bluetooth, but there was nothing in there. So you flipped open the middle compartment next.

There was no manual, but there was a wallet.

Of course you picked it up to confirm it was in fact Lando’s, but then that just left you with the question, why did he go back inside the house?

The light from the front foyer caught your eye and you glanced up to see your mother giving Lando a hug. Apparently he had made quite the impression on her tonight.

You dropped the wallet back inside the compartment and closed it right before Lando reached the car. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at you with his usual cheeky smile, the one that gave him those faint lines around his lips and caused his eyes to squint.

“Find it?” You asked.

Lando hesitated before nodding, “Yeah, was stuck in the couch cushions. Must have fallen out of my pocket.”

And you knew he was lying, but you didn’t question any further. Lando reached across the console to connect his hand with yours as he started to take off in the direction of his flat, jumping into a conversation about your baby photos and how sweet Pascale was, choosing to purposely disregard Charles and his behaviour.

Whatever reason Lando had to go back inside, you didn’t care to ask about it.

You trusted Lando. You knew Lando was someone who would take care of you, even if you didn’t ask for it. His motives, his words, his stupid plan to move up your driver ranking, all of it was pure at heart with nothing but good intentions.

He just wanted to be with you and in return, he hoped you would want to be with him as well.

And against all odds, you were going to make this work.

masterlist here (side note - part 12 (the next chapter) will be the final part)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @tsarinablogs @noescapricho-essentimiento @f1mockingjay @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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ethansluvbot · 1 year

Note

my requests r so broken so idk if this will go through 😭 but if you write for jack champion (i think u do) maybe jack champion x reader where reader doesn’t like showing her face a lot (especially on camera) but jack still attempts to include her in livestreams and such? :) lik she’ll be off scream but he’s admiring her mid-stream— HWGDHWHD thanks gurlll

PRETTY BOY | JACK CHAMPION

warnings: nothing just fluff!!

an: WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE. i’m basing this off of the neighborhood “pretty boy” because i love that song.

you always felt pretty with jack, jack made you feel perfect. he was the one thing you needed to be happy. even though you struggle with insecurities he always would help you through them.

he would always make sure to include you. that was including his live streams that he would have often. you hated showing your face to thousands of people and even speaking to them freaked you out.

you couldn’t understand how jack did it? your social anxiety wouldn’t allow this to happen. jack was currently going live as you laid on his bed.

“y/n come over here,” he patted his lap for you to sit in. you thought about it for second before shaking your head. what if they wouldn’t like you? what if they would make fun of you?

he walked away from his phone kneeling down in front of you, “you’ll be fine, nothing that they say should have a effect on you. you’re so gorgeous and i doubt they would think any different. we can take it slow if you want?”

the corners of your mouth rise up. you were so grateful to date someone like him. someone so considerate, charming and hilarious.

“fine. i’m not showing my face though.” those were the only conditions jack had to follow so he would take it. taking your hand into his he say you next to his phone.

“my beautiful girlfriend y/n is here with me! i wish you guys could see how perfect she was,” you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. it was weird being treated like this. treated like you actually mattered to him, which you did.

in past relationships you were treated like shit. so having someone that was always there for you was great. his hand sat on your thigh drawing shapes with his fingers.

you loved watching jack interact with his fans. he was great at it even though his sense of humor was outdated. you only hoped he would make a great dad one day.

you looked up to see jacks eyes fixated on you. maybe he was right just to show your face. it wasn’t going to be as bad as what you were thinking.

laying your head on his shoulder you waved to the camera. all he could think about was how special you were. you were the one girl that would stick out to him. the one that could make him smile everyday.

“i love you,” he mumbled out playing with your fingers.

“i love you too jack.”

#ethan landry #jack champion #avatar #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #scream 6 #scream 6 imagines

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intromortal · 5 days

Text

liability | s.jy x gn!reader wc: 800+

cw: fluff, hurt/comfort (but it's actually just comfort), yes jake smells like earthy rain who's gonna fight me about it

In the middle of the night, you heard the front door of your apartment swing open, obtruding the sounds of leaves crunching on your porch and rain cascading, plinking against the shingles, before closing again gently.

Jake was late, but hearing him come back at all was a surprise. You firmly thought he would not come home that night. Not after the screaming match that had occurred before he left.

Fighting with Jake was a very uncommon occurrence, you two usually talked about your feelings and worries very openly, an unspoken peace and truce you had worked very hard to achieve.

“Beautiful?”

Tears poured from your eyes at the sound of his honeyed smooth tone, following the path that the previous dried ones had left behind.

Sobs racked your chest as his footsteps hurriedly made their way to your shared room, a place usually bursting with fondness never felt so empty and dim.

The bed dipped under the weight of Jake’s knees, his usual earthy scent mixed with the smell of the weather outside engulfing you as he brought your trembling body close to his, caging you in his firm arms.

“Breathe in, breathe out, slowly.” The touch of his warm calloused hand on your hair calmed you down, his breathing evening out in an attempt to get you to mimic it as he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, pillowy lips ghosting on your forehead.

Jake’s heart constricted in his ribcage at the thought of being the cause of your pain, thinking back at the poisonous venom he spewed to you that same morning, overtaken by his emotions.

He only pulled back once your sobs turned into sniffles, still holding you close but far enough to take your face in his hands, losing himself in the sight of your bloodshot eyes.

The moonlight filtered into the room through the curtains, turning your face into a canvas of blues and greys, shadows and light. Masterpiece cradled in his palms.

He always wanted to protect you, keep you away from harm, yet you had never looked so frail, shivering at his touch like you might shatter any second. Because of him.

The sensation of your lips tracing the skin of his palm brought his focus to the moment once more, eyes he had not even noticed had wandered somewhere else turned to yours, finding traces of fondness, yet also doubt, in them.

“I thought you’d crash at Jay’s tonight.” Your voice was cracking, raw from emotion.

He kept his gaze on yours, eyes flickering, looking for any clue of meanings between the lines, “Did you want me to?” his voice was hoarse and vulnerable, the anxiety pooling in his stomach audible in his tone. You shook your head, eliciting a sigh of relief from your lover.

“Thought you might not want to see me for a bit,” you nervously bit your lip, “after what I said.”

“You’re my home. I’ll always come back to you no matter what,” he brought you in for a soft kiss, still testing the waters, not wanting to push you too far. “We both said things we regret. I’m sorry beautiful, I didn’t mean any of it.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I know baby,” you whispered softly, “I never meant to be a liability. I hate watching you work yourself to your bones. I just worry for you.”

He drew back immediately, searching for your eyes and feeling bile rising in his throat when he found tears streaming down your face once more. “You’ll never be a liability, angel” he placed soft kisses on the rivulets of tears as if he could absorb them and take away even a little bit of your pain.

“Still, I overstepped. I never want to be too much to bear again” you grabbed Jake's shirt as he held you close to his chest, his chin on top of your head.

“You are never gonna be too much baby. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It'll never let it happen again,” he lowered his head to kiss the crown of your hair “I promise”.

He rocked you like this, lips never parting from you and arms around your body, until he felt your heartbeat even out, breathing still a little shaky from all the crying. He lowered both of you on the soft mattress, covering your figure with a thin scattered blanket he found next to your nightstand when you refused to let him look for something heavier, scared he might walk a little too far, slip through your fingers and never come back.

He hoped that the thin blanket and his love were enough to keep you warm in the cold of the night.

The last thing you heard before drifting off was his voice, warm breath fanning on your shoulder.

“Sweet dreams angel, we’re going to be fine.”

#can he comfort me too #jake!#soft hours!#enhypen drabble #jake drabble #sim jaeyun drabble #enhypen soft hours #enhypen fluff #jake fluff #sim jaeyun fluff #jake soft hours #kpop fluff #enhypen #jake enhypen #jake #sim jaeyun #jake angst #enhypen angst

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lonelystarrs · 4 months

Text

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒁𝒆𝒏’𝒊𝒏

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗭𝗲𝗻’i𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

He really, really needed to stop making bets and gambling with you, it bit at his pride but god damn the results were always so fucking worth it.

Part one: Don’t Touch

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + maid Toji + loses a bet in prt 1 and makes it worse for himself + switch reader + reluctant sub Toji / dom + toy usage + Toji gets meann but also shows his soft dom + degrading/ praise kinks + established relationship + fluff + cum play + dirty talk + possessive + anal play + I’m sorry but I was screaming with laughter at the end -idk why my fics end with stupid crack I can’t help it.

Another 4k smut fic I’m not sorry.

Yeah, you really did think you were fucking funny didn’t ya?

Toji’s jaw tightened as he tried so very hard to not have his damn eyes roll back into their sockets from rolling so hard because he was actually doing what you asked.

He was no chicken, he could keep up on his side of a bet but couldn’t recall this being part of the deal, in fact he was so very sure it wasn’t part of it.

The clothing was tight, not suitable for a man of his size and stature, in fact it wasn’t suitable for a man at all.

When the hell would he learn to stop making bets with you? He was always so ridiculously unlucky when it came down to it, when was he gonna learn that gambling with you wouldn’t ever go in his favour?

Maybe his pride was letting him make the mistakes again and again.

“You missed a spot, Maid Zen’in.”

“Yeah? How ya see that when you ain’t even looking up at that shitty book huh?”

You snickered as you flicked the page, indeed not looking up at him but knowing he’d skipped the bottom shelf because he didn’t want to bend over in this damn skimpy maid outfit.

“Don’t recall this being part of it,” he sneered, glaring at you as you still refused to look at him.

“Oh? When we got home after that Halloween party, you bet I’d cum first and you were the one who blew his load first, it was your idea on who wore the outfit had to do whatever the winner said for a whole three hours and well, Zen’in-“ you snapped the book shut and finally looked up at him, “-here we are.”

You smirked at him whilst tilting your head and he hated how those little pulses sent to his cock made him throb. He both loved to hate how that little stubborn, challenging streak in you made him secretly simp for you, not like he’d ever admit it, besides it was always so rewarding.

“So, bottom shelf T, needs dusting.”

He snorted and turned back around, when he bent over though you didn’t find yourself so amused, was it supposed to be hot watching that stupidly short skirt ride up, see Toji Zen’in in a damn thong and those fucking breeder balls of his bulging against the material?

You never thought about it, truly, but it made your cunt clench and suppress a moan with how this man was wearing something so degrading.

You didn’t think he’d go all out and actually wear the thong, but seems he took his gambling more serious than you thought.

It wasn’t because of you calling him a chicken, a pussy if he didn’t do it had anything to do with his pride being bitten at…

“Gone quiet doll, you into this shit you- oi”

“You are too, you’re getting hard.”

Even more so when your hands cupped his balls through the thin material, your thumb however followed the line up the thong and that’s when Toji straightened, turning around all but glaring at you.

“Don’t push ya luck, I ain’t into that ass stuff.”

“Oh? You tried it?”

His stare was hard, the silence making up for his lack of will to say any words and you only smirked at him.

“So you never tried it, you’ll cum so hard y’know-“

“You’ve banged a guy before?”

“Yeah, but we can just do fingers.”

“I didn’t say I was doing it you brat,”

“Awwwwh, Toji c’mon, you can’t handle a little finger?”

You wiggled your index finger at him and bellowed out a cackle when he told you to fuck off and stormed off, his skirt bouncing around his thick thighs and each step made heavier by your laughed that didn’t seem to fade no matter how far he walked away.

You never realised how stroppy Toji could be, you’d seen him get assy when he’s lost a bet on any kind of silly race he was interested in at the time. You’ve seen him pout ever so slightly at the most stupidest of things, even if he denied it and said his face wasn’t capable of pouting…. Sadly his scar gave any kind of minor movement away on his mouth.

It made him quite readable actually, not like he was difficult to read— most the time he was rather black and white when it came down to it. However, this side of him wasn’t often on show.

But it was fucking hilarious when he did show it.

Two hours later after cleaning left him sat on the couch with his arms crossed pouting as he glared at the tv, you were sure he wasn’t even watching it just looking past it and directing his glare there instead.

Cause you’d only mock him further for his attitude if he directed his attention to you, sat there all cozy in his T-shirt that he should be wearing.

“Awww, t’wooohjiiii- are you fweeling sad?”

You prodded his cheek and stifled a laugh noticing his shoulders tense, the maid outfit was straining against his muscles.

“But you look too hot to be sad-“

Your name left his mouth slowly in a warning as he turned to look at you, his green eyes fired up and quiet honestly you’d never seen him this annoyed with you.

“-you’re pushin’ it, fuckin shut up before-“

You shifted and swung your leg over him on the sofa, straddling his lap and tracing your fingers along the front of the maid outfit, his huge pecs bulging under it and even more so from his crossed arms under them

“Before you what?”

Your voice was husky, practically tempting him to threaten you, in vain of course because he knew you liked it.

You wiggled your hips on him and he just glared harder at you.

“You got an hour left of me being in charge,”

“Tch, don’t get too cocky, you’ll regret it.”

“Will I?”

“Doll, don’t be a fucking fool.”

“I just wanna fuck you in this, on the sofa, right here.”

He fell silent, the hardened glare softening ever so slightly, but he still wasn’t convinced it was all you wanted.

He knew you better than that.

“I wanna start off with your cock down my throat, wanna treat you for being so good today T. But I want you to let me finger fuck your prostrate, if you don’t like it I’ll stop-“ his stomach tensed when you ran your hand down his stomach, his six pack tensing under your touch as his breath hitched. Your hand cupping his semi hard dick through the short maid skirt.

“You’re getting hard,” your leaned forward, lips brushing his ear and he tilted his head to allow it, his arms relaxing across his chest “-good boy.”

It took fifteen minutes to get the little prostrate toy in his tight hole. It only took sucking him off and slipping a finger in, hitting his prostrate and milking his cock was surprisingly enough to convince him.

and it took five minutes for him to be practically drooling, his hips bucking up brushing against your clit with each stuttered jolt, the toy vibrating against his g-spot.

He was sweating already, his hands firmly gripping your hips that kept moving to your ass, unsure where to put his hands.

“F-F-Fuckin’ he- shit, fuck!”

You cackled above him, hands cupping his face trying to get him to look at you, your thumb running over his bottom lip swiping away drool.

“Awh, Toji you feel good?”

“S-Shut it,”

You hummed and kissed him, tongue filling his mouth greedily and he rose his own to meet yours, trying to keep up with it but failing as his moaning echoed against your tongue.

Your other hand reached down to angle his cock at your drooling hole, rolling it around to catch slick.

“Don’t, don’t you fucking dare, you’re dead-ah Fuck,”

You were so wet, so feral after watching him turn into an utter mess under you that you slid down in one smooth slide taking his 9 inch, thick cock to the hilt and his eyes rolled back.

“M’cummin’ fuck me I think I’m gonna cum,”

You’d never seen him cum like this, his voice broke, his whole body tensed, shaking as he came so hard his eyes crossed, looking down to see his cock disappearing into you. The bulge forming in your stomach as you reached the hilt, his toes curled against the floor, his hands forcefully moved your hips to rock against him.

You gripped onto the maid outfit at the front, your breath hitching as you spread to accommodate his girth, his hips moving so messily, so wild from cumming so hard that he was already moving inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself against him, hovering above him slightly and biting your bottom lip whilst smirking at him.

His green eyes dazed but focusing on your face, your hand held a little remote and you turned off the toy. The low buzz disappearing to leave his heavy breathing fill the silence in the room. Your rolled your hips and his jolted.

“Shit-“ his hands gripped your hips stopping your movement, his sensitive cock still leaking out cum as your cunt pulsed around him, his body humming as he came down from whatever high you’d just put him through, “-stop moving you brat.”

“Your last hour is up,”

It was shocking how quickly he recovered, your back hit the sofa so fast everything blurred, suddenly focusing on Toji hovering above you in a maid outfit. He was still breathing heavy, sweat beading on his skin and the veins up in his forearms, one hand around your throat as he kept you in place.

He pulled his cock from you, both eyes dropping down to watch it leave you coated in more cum you’d ever seen him unload. It was covered in white slick, dripping down his shaft both to his balls and onto your inner thighs. It slapped hard against his stomach before bobbing, still rock solid and dripping in cum.

The maid skirt hanging over the top of it, bunched at the hilt of his cock and it was kinda amusing seeing his big dick poking out from under it.

An airy, moany fuck left him watching himself pull from you,

“-well, ain’t that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, made a mess of me sweetheart,”

He rolled his hips forward so the head of his thick cock caught your clit, sticky cum rolling around the sensitive bundle of nerves and your body jolted.

“Dicks drooling f’ya still doll, know what that means?”

You hummed in response, back arching off the sofa as your head rolled back from his dick starting to fuck against your clit, his hips rolling so smoothly your body was humming for him already.

Toji leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear as he pushed your hips up with his thighs, half curling over you, his dick sliding past your clit leaving a sticky glide up your stomach. It flexed against you as his mouth met your cheek.

“You got your safe word?”

His hands gliding up your sides, smoothing up your thighs that were braced either side of his ribs, over your hips and gripping your waist, his huge hands swallowing your smaller frame. His thumb brushed under your ribs, giving you a squeeze.

You nodded dumbly turning your head to meet his mouth with your own, but he pulled back, his hips following as he blindly lined himself up with your drooling hole.

“Use ya words, doll, know I ain’t doin’ shit until you do,”

You felt his lips moving against yours, his green eyes holding some glassy look in them you’d not seen in him before, glistening like emeralds framed by strands of black hair.

Your heart surged in your chest when your eyes locked, reading his expression that was almost soft.

“Y-Yeah, know my safe word.”

“N’what is it?”

“Zen’in,”

“Good girl, if you take this without sayin’ it I’ll tell ya a lil summit at the end.”

God your heart was jumping, it was banging against your ribs like it was screaming the answer at you, like it knew what he possibly had dancing on the end of his tongue when he was looking at you like that.

Like you were feeding his damn soul.

“Are you making another bet with me?”

Toji smirked, cock sure about himself on this one.

“Sure, know you ain’t gonna win this cause I’m gonna ruin you.”

How he entered you was cruel, it was slow, almost damn loving the way he watched you. Your back arching, head rolling back and one hand moved to brace against the arm of the sofa behind your head. One of his hands joined yours, sliding from your waist, up your wrist slowly and laced his fingers through yours. His other remaining on your waist to hold you as he stayed folded over you, your hips angled up supported by his thighs under your ass.

Green eyes drank in your expression, your mouth opening so he could hear your breath hitching, the echo of your body humming for him in a song he couldn’t ever stop listening to.

And his heart kicked against his ribs.

Shit.

You were it. His second chance.

He knew it months ago, maybe even years but it was so damn hard to ignore his soul singing for you at times like this.

“Fuck, Toji feels s’good.”

He hummed in response, leaning down to kiss the place on your neck that made your cunt clench around him and he felt it. He picked up a pace that was slow, fucking up into you at the perfect angle.

“Yeah, you do feel good sweetheart,”

Your tits bounced with every jolt from his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch of his cock bullying into your cunt, he moaned into your neck.

He meant how he was fucking you, but he had every intention to lead you into a false sense of security. His hand squeezed yours before leaving it to grab at your waist again, sitting back straight he looked down on you looking so small under him.

Your legs over his thighs, his huge hands swallowing your little waist and he had such a stunning view of his cock spreading you open from this angle, cum staining that pretty pussy.

He groaned and chewed the inside of his cheek starting to fight himself on changing his pace.

He could keep fucking you like this, all loving and slow, his body was humming for it after how hard you made him cum. The toy was still sat in his ass and quite frankly taking it out at the moment didn’t even cross his mind…

His cock flexing in you made his ass tighten around the toy every time and it felt fucking good.

He didn’t even give a shit he was fucking you like this in a damn maid outfit either.

He pulled out to the tip, moaning a breathy fuck me as he watched your cunt pulse, trying to suck him back in still covered in cum and slick.

His large hands squeezed your waist lovingly, before slamming back into you with such force you almost screamed. Head rolling back to him, your mouth agape, eyes doe eyed in shock at his sudden change.

And you couldn’t help but look at him, holding your waist, sat up with your hips to his smirking down at you in a maid outfit that was straining against his huge form. His black hair sticking to his face in some places, sweat beading down his chest and his veins bulging up his wrists and arms.

Your hand on the arm of the sofa flew to one of his wrists to brace yourself, the other held on firmly to the toy remote you kept hidden from him.

He snorted a laugh, the scar on his mouth twitching as he fought a smirk.

And he started to fucking rut into you, it was vicious, his balls sticking to your ass with every wet plap, plap, plap, of him bullying his thick cock into your pussy.

“F-Fuck, Toji! Fuck! Hah- baby- fuck baby that’s it.”

He sneered, panting out as he used his body to see you both through the stars, finding it still amusing that you were talking like this under him.

It wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted tears, drool and begging. He wanted your body shaking under him.

So he fucked you nasty, not even slowing as you came around his cock for the third time, feeling your slick and cum drooling past your ass onto his thighs.

“You-you’re a sadistic little whore, hah, look how well you’re taking it. You like this cunt full of my cock, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yeah? Like that bulge in your stomach? Fuck, fuck you take my big dick so well.”

You gave a moany laugh, your hips bucking up into his looking down to see the bulge of his cock appearing everytime his hips met yours, burying himself to the hilt.

“Who’s pussy is this?”

You looked up to him, green eyes already focused on you.

“It’s hah, oh fuck, i-it’s yours-“

One hand left your waist to grip your chin, squishing your cheeks and forming your mouth into a little pout.

“And who is dick this made for?”

“M-Me,”

“Yeah? It is huh? Fuck, you do look good on it.”

Your breath hitched when he pressed down on the bulge in your stomach, switching angles and your eyes widened when you felt something else stirring in your cunt.

He seen the panic in your eyes, your thighs starting to shake under him as he was fucking you past your limit. He suddenly moved up onto his knees, folding your knees to your head and his hands landed on the arm rest behind your head caging you under him, his dick fucking down into your cunt.

He hit so deep your eyes crossed, small whimpers leaving you as your voice left you, unable to moan with how deep he managed to get his cock into you, it was borderline painful how he was hitting your cervix but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say the safe word.

“Fuck you take me like a champ you little brat,-“ he moaned out, rutting his cock down into you in his little maid outfit, “-fucking look at you, she feels so good swallowing my cock like that. Sloppy pussy is drooling for me sweetheart -hah- shit you gonna cum again? Feels like it! C’mon, give it up. Fuck keep givin’ it to me.”

“T-Toji w-wait, it feels funny -fuck Toji w-wait!”

Of course he ignored you.

He wasn’t planning on listening to you unless you screamed that safe word of his last name.

Your toes curled as you felt yourself explode over him, cumming so hard you squirted over his cock and stomach, and onto yourself.

Green eyes widened as he watched you squirt over yourself, glistening on your tits as he folded you over.

“Holy shit-“ he kept thrusting into you, making sure to make a mess of it as you just kept cumming over him “-shit doll, you can squirt?”

“Y-You asshole! Hah, fuck! Toji you asshole!”

He chuckled above you as you tried to glare at him, unable to hold his gaze long as you thrashed, convulsing under him.

Somehow though you managed to find a second of clarity, fingers pressing that button to the little toy inside his ass and turning it up to full fucking blast.

The moan that left him was unholy, his arms over you buckled, his grip still firm on the arm rest but he dropped back, unfolding you slightly as he moved an arm to the spine of the sofa. His hips jolting into you uncontrollably as the toy slammed against his gspot.

“Huh- fuck, you little b-brat,”

His head tilted back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned out, the veins in his thick neck showing as his whole body twitched in places.

You huffed under him, trying to get air back into your body as you laid there shaking under him, still half folded and his cock still buried in you, flexing on its own as he got his prostrated fucked by a small toy.

His orgasm hit him so quickly he looked back at you a little stunned, his eyes dazing out and crossing as no noise left him. Gripping your hips again as he humped his cock into you, spilling cum into your swollen pussy.

“Feels fucking good-“ drool spilled from the side of his mouth, “phhh-uck, turn it off will ya? S-Shit,”

You gave an airy laugh and did as he asked, he fell forward onto you, even his own body shaking slightly as he was above your trembling one. Your heavy breathing filling the silence of the living room, the tv noises starting to fade back into your senses and the lights dancing across the room.

“So-“ you panted, patted his back and he lifted himself a bit to glare at you half heartedly. “-shower?”

He grunted in response, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you with him, your legs wrapped around him as he carried you towards the bathroom, his cock still plugged in you but softening.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, planting soft kisses at the scar on his mouth, moving across his cheek.

“So damn clingy-“ you laughed against his cheek, his deep voice sounding tired but content. His soft, wet cock slid from you just as he stepped into the walk in shower and he stood back, ripping the maid outfit off his body like it was tissue.

He threw it onto the floor, reaching over your shoulder to turn on the shower, planting his arms either side of you to hide you under the cold water, letting it warm up before it hit you.

With your back against the cooling tiles, you looked up to his calm face, eyes closed, giving a pleasant hum as the water hit his hot skin. His black hair falling to frame his face as water dripped from the ends, little streams forming on his skin.

You fingers grazed his cheek and his eyes opened to meet yours, still a little glassy from the sex you both had but focused on you softly.

He leaned forward, his forehead pressing to yours for a second before wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you up against him burying his face into your neck.

“I love ya, it pisses me off, but I do.”

He felt you freeze under him and his arm squeezed you, apprehension spreading through his chest as for a split second he worried he said the wrong thing.

Like him you loved in a unique way, you were never one for the lovey dovey crap and neither was he, it suited him.

He felt you pull back and reluctantly his eyes met yours, now glassy as tears started to build in them.

“Y-You-“

“I mean it, I ain’t joking around.”

The tears spilled and his tongue clicked.

“Doll, don’t cry, Christ ain’t this suppose to be a good thing?”

You hit his chest playfully, babbling a laugh at him you wiped away at your tears.

“I love you too, you giant softie.”

His nose wrinkled at the insult, never in his life had he considered himself soft in any way. He says one thing to you and you think he’s soft?

He leaned down again burying his face into your neck and letting himself relax, hoping to fucking god you didn’t feel the beat of his heart slamming into his ribs, see the heat creep his neck or see the smirk twitching at his mouth.

Your response and acceptance making him feel like some dumbass schoolboy.

But you had to ruin it.

“Toji-“

“Woman, can you just enjoy the silence for one minute?”

“Did you just tell me you loved me, with that toy still in your ass?”

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

Yes I used maid Barou as a banner ahahahaha

#jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #toji zenin

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navybrat817 · 10 months

Note

Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺

Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.

By Any Other Name

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.

If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.

Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.

So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.

"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.

"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.

"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”

The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.

“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.

Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”

“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.

The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.

“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”

Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.

“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”

Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.

“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”

Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.

Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.

“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”

“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.

“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”

Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.

Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers #tattoo artist!steve rogers x reader #tattoo artist!steve rogers #sin on skin au #thorn and rose #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #tattoo artist au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

hello!!! i love love love ur dating regulus headcanons and i was wondering if ur down to make one with sirius 🥹🩷 maybe with a lil sprinkling of sworn enemies to reluctant friends to lovers 👀 bc reader is in slytherin and we all know how that goes……….

you just write these characters with so much love and care and so close to how they’d be and act irl!! 🩷

Oof we love some inter-house enemies to lovers - thanks so much for your sweet words and for your request! 🫶

Dating Sirius Black Headcanons: Slytherin Edition

To know Sirius Black is to know his deep distain for Slytherins.

It began as a kid when he finally took a look around at his family and thought “huh….I really don’t like any of you.” And he decided he’d like to be as different from his family as possible

Now, when you’re eleven, the options of being different than your family are limited.

One thing you can do, however? Is make sure you’re at least not a Slytherin like the rest of them.

If being ambitious, resourceful, determined, and clever … GREEN… meant being like the Black’s? No friggen thank you.

Now, again, when you’re eleven, your vision of the world is skewed. So, this meant that he believed everyone in green and silver robes were just as bad as the green and silver robes that raised him.

Including you.

Your relationship (if it can even be called that) started with Sirius Black as you were often the unfortunate victim of many Marauder pranks.

Some were relatively harmless…glitter bombs, stink bombs, charming the furniture of your common room to the ceiling, etc

Some were a little more distressing…charming your hair green, jinxing your textbooks to run away screaming every time you opened them, hexing you in the hallways

You came to accept that part of being a Slytherin was being the victim of some torment…it also meant hating the marauders

And it was so annoying because most of your house did actually deserve to be brought down a peg??? But you were literally just trying to get by so wtf.

You tried to keep your head down while also doing what you could to get back at the Marauders in your own little way

You just tried to be better than them at everything

It became a little bit of a competition between you and Sirius during shared classes

Better grades (usually you)

Who could raise their hand to answer first (Sirius)

Who could get the correct answer first (you)

Who brewed the better potions (roughly 50/50)

You weren’t about to put yourself on a broom and agree to have balls thrown at you – but you learned everything you could about quidditch through reading and became an avid cheerleader for your house team

This slowly morphed into always cheering for the competitors of whatever team Sirius was cheering for in the Quidditch World Cup

Now, Sirius is popular…especially in the dating field…he’s well aware of this, and he can’t help but admit it does beautiful things for his ego

But Sirius is not the kind of guy to appreciate a partner who is a ‘yes-man’

He doesn’t want a partner who is following at his heels all of the time

He’s not interested in a partner who thinks he’s always right and just takes his word for it

I truly believe Sirius would crave someone who would challenge him, push him to be better, someone who would teach him things instead of letting him be the smartest guy in the room

I also think he’d like someone who was kind of mean to him

“Hey L/N, couldn’t help but notice my name was above yours on the grades for last week’s assignments. Better luck next time, huh?”

“Sod off you stupid fucking wanker.”

He’d swoon a little I think

This turned into a little competition on his end to see if he could fluster you

“I didn’t know she-devils could be beautiful too, Y/N. You’re blowing my mind a little.”

“One too many bludgers to the head, Black?”

“Marauders are throwing a party in the room of requirement tonight. I usually don’t invite snakes but I’m sure we could make an exception for a pretty girl like you.”

“I’d rather choke on my own vomit.”

He’d try winking at you from across the room – he would only be spared an eyeroll.

He started making other comments, hoping to elicit at least a slight blush.

“You know, I hear you screaming at every Quidditch game. I can’t help but wonder how you’d sound screaming in my bed.”

You threw your pumpkin juice at him and left the Great Hall with a blank face.

It was infuriating - he loved it.

Unfortunately for you, because you two were matched in terms of grades for class, you were partnered up for a project

He seemed a little too joyed at the extra opportunity to try to rile you up

“Look, Black, I know you like to coast through life, but do not mess with my grades because of whatever little infatuation you have going on with me.”

He wanted to be offended that you accused him of a) coasting through life and b) being infatuated with you, but you just looked so cute glaring up at him with your little nose all crinkled.

“Yes ma’am” he said simply

You were surprised by his agreeableness, but chose not to think about it too hard lest he change his mind

You kept your eye on him though

He actually didn’t make that bad a project partner – he was relatively clever, generally knew what he was talking about, and while he couldn’t go more than twenty minutes without teasing you or hitting on you, you got your work done, and done well.

You’d been having a bad day – put simply. You woke up at four am to the Slytherin dungeons being flooded (a prank you were sure was courtesy of the Marauders).

Your entire house had to vacate the dorms whilst the professors and Filch found the leak and dried everything up

It wasn’t until nearly six o’clock that you were allowed back in the dorms – and even then, everything was damp. Then, you slept through your alarm making you miss breakfast – your uniform still felt damp no matter how much drying charms you cast on yourself throughout the day, you had bags the size of a hippogriff under your eyes, and you were exhausted

Thankfully, Sirius had the good graces not to make any comments when you rushed to the library late to meet him, and you were sure you looked like you were in a proper state

Unfortunately, Mulciber and Snape weren’t as eager to let it go

Without warning, the inkpots on your table exploded covering you and Sirius and your work in ink

“Stay out of the dungeons, Black” Mulciber sneered.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” you screeched.

Snape almost looked apologetic when he took in the state of you.

“Sorry, L/N,” Mulciber offered whilst sounding very unapologetic, “collateral damage”

“Fuck that!” you said as you stood from the table. “I’m so fucking sick of being everyone’s collateral damage. I had my room flooded this morning too, you wankers. I’ve had my hair charmed green. I’ve had my textbooks jinxed to bite me. I’ve been hexed walking down the halls. I’ve been given detention for being out of uniform because my robes and tie were charmed red and gold. All of this even though I’ve never done a thing to the Gryffindors, but I choose to ignore it because I know it’s really only meant to piss you sods off, and I’m supposed to be some proud Slytherin who doesn’t concern herself with such childish play. So, you don’t get to show up here and expect me to be understanding when you’ve just made an already shitty day 700 times shittier!”

You ignored the librarian’s shouts about detention, house points and the like as you stormed out of the library

You also missed the guilty expression that adorned Sirius’ face.

You ignored and avoided Sirius and his stupid puppy dog eyes for a week after that. You redid all of your work that had been ruined that day in the library, handed it to Sirius and said “proofread it and edit it if you want, otherwise, hand it in and we’re done” before walking away again.

He tried sending you notes in class which you crumbled and threw back at him

You stopped trying to best him – no more grade comparisons, no more races to answer questions first, no more challenges to brew the best potion. None of it

If he thought of you as a heartless, emotionless Slytherin, then that’s what you’d be.

He stopped trying to get your attention after a while

You noticed that the Marauder’s stopped targeting Slytherin as a whole

You couldn’t really bring yourself to be thankful for it

They still pranked Mulciber, Snape, Malfoy, and the likes, however, which you were thankful for

Until…

“L/N throws a fit and suddenly, Slytherins are left alone except for us. Tell me, did you tell your little blood-traitor boyfriend to lay off your friends?” Avery sneered condescendingly as you sat near the fountain in the transfiguration courtyard

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the lot of them

“pfft, hanging out with the likes of blood-traitors, next thing you know she’ll be whoring herself out to the likes of a filthy mudblood”

That you couldn’t ignore.

You saw red and, without thinking, launched yourself at Mulciber, both of you ending up in the water

Your fists seemed to have a mind of their own as they met the boy’s face over and over and over again

You felt your jaw click as his elbow met the side of your face and then the back of his hand struck you from the other side as he fought to get up from underneath you

You were both hauled out of the fountain by Hagrid, who was accompanied by Filch, and brought to detention

Unfortunately for you, Professor McGonagall was already hosting detention in the Transfiguration classroom – a few students plus the Marauders were sat quietly with quills and parchment in front of them when the squib caretaker pushed the door open, and the half-giant walked in with a sopping wet and bloody student in each hand.

“Caught these two fight’n, miss” he told her

“Oh, for goodness-” she started as she stood and came to inspect the two new arrivals.

“Mulciber, to the infirmary. Miss L/N-”

“I’m fine.” You spat, cutting the matron off.

“You should have your wounds seen to, young lady.” She admonished.

“I’m fine. Are you going to give me detention or not?”

The professor grimaced but pointed you to an empty desk where a quill and parchment materialized. “you’re to write a foot worth of parchment about why what you did was wrong. Once you’re done, you’re to sit quietly until I dismiss you.”

You took your seat but made no motion to grab your quill or parchment

“Miss. L/N, start your parchment.”

“I can’t, professor.”

Every detentionee turned to look at you – save Sirius who already had his eyes glued to you from the second you had walked in – as the professor “begged her pardon”

“The way I see it, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You said simply.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” She repeated incredulously

“Nope. I think people who call women whore’s or use the term mudblood ought to have their teeth punched in.”

Sirius bit back a surprised snort at your response as he tried to ignore the warm feeling erupting in his chest

“Fine, Miss. L/N. You will sit their quietly until I dismiss you. Are you sure you don’t need to see Madame Pomfrey?”

You wiped at the blood from the corner of your lip with your equally bloodied hands. “positive”

Sirius was smitten

All of a sudden, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were? How lovely your voice sounded? And were you always so brilliant at everything you do?

He was even astounded by how gracefully you buttered your toast

Get a fucking grip, Black

I believe, to everyone’s absolutely shock, the cocky, playboy, Casanova Sirius became so unbelievably enamoured with you, he was so afraid to say anything to upset you/scare you away

But he wasn’t going to let you go

You still weren’t speaking to him, but you were no longer glaring at him – so this was a start

Every night you’d go to bed and there’d be a little tear-drop shaped chocolate on your pillow. You have no idea how it got there, who put it there, or even what a Hershey’s was.

And you knew better than to trust suspicious things found around the castle

So, you placed it in a jar on your bedside table and went about your life

A tear shaped chocolate was on your pillow every night for the rest of the week (until the end of school, quite frankly)

None of your dorm mates had any clue where they were coming from

Flowers were delivered to you every morning with the owl post. Not bouquets – but singular flowers

By the time you had a jar full of those Hershey thingies and a full vase of flowers, a note was delivered with a familiar scrawl: meet me in the Astronomy tower tonight at 8

Now, Black had been on his best behaviour lately – but you knew better than to show up with your guard down

Sirius waited on the astronomy tower lookout, chain smoking, taking on and off his leather jacket as he was concerned he looked “too much like a tool” as Remus put it, hoping by all the gods you would actually show

“Alright, what’s the deal, Black? Gonna throw me off the lookout? Put a spider down my shirt? Is there a bucket of slime somewhere?”

Sirius’ heart nearly stopped at the sound of your voice, and then he barked a laugh when he saw you standing there in dueling stance with your wand aimed at him

“First of all, why would I throw you off the tower? Second of all, those are amateur pranks, I think I’ve earned a better reputation than that.”

You seemed to consider that as you lowered your wand but continued to look around skeptically “We’ll see…”

“Did you like the kisses?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Sirius laughed

“The chocolates? They’re called Hershey’s kisses”

“That was you?”

“Uh huh, and the flowers”

“Why?”

Sirius smirked at you “for being so smart, you’re kind of dumb.”

“Sod off.”

“I fancy you, L/N.”

You stared at him in bewilderment “why?”

“Why?

“Why.”

“Let’s see. You’re the smartest witch I know. You put in me in my place every second sentence you speak. You’re talented, you’re stunning, I found out you attacked a man almost twice your size and won because he was a misogynistic racist and then refused to apologize for it, and because…you’re right.”

“I’m right about a lot of things, Black; you’re gonna have to be more specific”

“I was prejudiced too. My family was hateful and Slytherin, so I spent my life assuming all Slytherin’s were hateful; I know now that those words are not synonymous. And I took that out on the lot of you – you didn’t deserve that.”

Was Sirius Black admitting that he was 1) wrong, 2) taking responsibility and 3) declaring his feelings for you?

“You’re brilliant. I just thought you should know.” he said at your silence

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you want, I suppose. Preferably give me a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“To be yours.”

You said you’d “think about it” but to Sirius, you may as well have given him a resounding yes. He whooped and swept you up in a hug. He placed you back onto your feet and looked between your eyes and your mouth – a silent question.

In for a penny, in for a pound – am I right?

That was followed by a lot more kisses – chocolate and affectionate in kind

Sirius absolutely made some grand announcement in the Great Hall to establish that you were officially “thinking about” being his girlfriend so…. everyone can just do with that information what they will

You were horrified

You sent a stinging jinx at him for it

Definitely following around like a puppy who’s just so damn excited to see it’s owner

“What shops are we hitting at Hogsmeade first?”

“I didn’t realize we were going to Hogsmeade together?” you asked incredulously

Sirius scoffed as if you said something ridiculous. “’Course we are babe.” Which he accentuated by smacking a kiss on your cheek

The kind to buy you everything you even look at in the store

“Come on babe, I saw you eyeing that book; of course I bought it for you!”

You started going to Quidditch games even when Slytherin wasn’t playing

You refused to show up wearing a red scarf

Your green scarf was charmed red once you were stuck in the stands

How your relationship first began with Sirius Black back in your first year became a foundation of your relationship going forward

You spent the rest of your lives pranking, jinxing, and charming each other

#sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #dating Sirius black headcanons #sirius black headcanon #marauders au #marauders era #ask elle #reader insert #self insert #slytherin #gryffindor #inter-house rivalry #enemies to lovers #ellecdc fics

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spookysteddie · 3 months

Text

Love On Tour

18+ MINORS DNI

cw: mentions of drugs, motions of overdose, bad parents, some hurt. (Let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 1k (sorry shes so short... I've been sick)

...

Dating Eddie Munson was pure bliss.

The closest to heaven you’ll ever come and you couldn’t be happier.

The media has been having a field day this past month over Eddie breaking the news during a red carpet interview. You were his date, of course, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. When the reporter asked if you two had a title, he just grinned and kissed you right there. The press loved it.

You parents, however, did not.

You haven’t spoken to them since the day after that award show. They saw the interview and called you up to scream at you for not listening to them. You sat there and took it, holding back tears and doing all you could to get off the phone with them. You were glad Eddie wasn’t around during that conversation since he doesn’t like when people mock or yell at you.

As for your followers? They eat up any and all content you make with Eddie. The good thing is Eddie really enjoys making content with you. He even let you do his makeup with the biggest smile of his cute face. He also did one of your voice overs for your “spend the day with me” post.

In private Eddie dotes on you. The second a flower starts to die, he comes home with new ones. He’s on top of texting you through most moments of the day (even though you told him he didn’t have to do that) and he even moved his schedule around once to accompany you to an influencer event.

He was the most incredible boyfriend ever.

Now, they’re getting ready to go on a year and a half long tour for their new album. The album you happen to be on the cover of. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous about Eddie going on tour.

It’s not that you didn’t trust him, not at all. It was the atmosphere that comes with rock and roll tours. Drugs are way easier to access and Eddie has a very hard time saying no. Needless to say you’re scared his band mates are going to call you and let you know he’s overdosed.

Or worse that he died.

Now, have you confessed these feelings to Eddie? No, of course not. You two haven’t been together that long and the last thing you need is for him to think you’re suffocating him. In short, you just don’t want to scare him and make him leave you.

You sit by the stage, watching them practice and watching Eddie and Gareth figure out lighting issues and a set list. It’s nice to see them like this, in their element. They all put so much love and care into everything they do when it comes to their jobs.

“Hey bunny, I need you for a moment,” Eddie calls, making you look up from the email you’re sending.

You nod, getting to your feet, “how can I be of service?”

Eddie beckons you up to the stage and you listen, climbing up the steps and standing in front of him with a grin.

He leaves a small kiss on your forehead. “Okay, I need you to stand right here. I’m going to go around here and see what it looks like from different angles.”

You nod, taking the microphone so you can speak to him as he moves. “Need me to do anything else?”

“Yes. I need you to let me know if you think we need to change anything. Okay?”

You nod again, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He blushes a little before jumping down off the stage. He starts from the floor seats, walking around every section there to make sure everyone has a good view.

Eddie knows floor seats are tough considering some people are shorter than others. But regardless, he likes to make sure anyone and everyone can see at some point. He moves back to the actual stands.

“Bunny, I need you to move to the left a little for me please?” His voice carries through the empty stadium.

You nod and move to the left. The light is right in your face, a little too much and you are shorter than Eddie is. “We might need to move this light. It’s right in my face and I’m seeing spots. I think it’ll wash you out, Eddie.”

You hear his laugh carry from where he’s standing, “are you saying I’m pale?”

You giggle a little, “just a tiny bit, honey.”

He laughs, “maybe we need to take a little week long vacation before we start this tour.”

Eddie walks to the seats that face the center of the stage. He tilts his head left and right before moving on to the next section.

And the next.

…

You wished you could go with Eddie.

You’d tried, actually. But your schedule had been set long before you met Eddie and you have contracts that you’d signed and now need to fulfill. It hurt your heart that you wouldn’t be there for him.

It hurt more that you wouldn’t be there to make sure he doesn’t die.

You lay next to him, head resting on his chest while you listen to his heart. It’s one of your favorite sounds and you swear your beats in time with his. The invisible string theory for sure. He has always been yours, the universe just didn’t let you have him till the time was right. Even if that time came after too much wine.

You feel like he’s been yours much longer than this, like you’ve been lovers in every life. In every timeline. He was your person, your soulmate. And sure that might be insane considering you’ve only been together a little over a month and a half. But you felt it inside.

You felt it in your bones.

Eddie takes a deep breath, pulling you closer to him and kissing your head in his sleep. You kiss his chest in return and finally fall asleep. You’ll deal with your fear of the tour later.

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #stranger things eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader

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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months

Text

Totally not requested Hazbin Hotel piece…BRO IM OBSESSED. Just something cute and cheesy about your first day at the hotel and how you’re greeted by each resident/staff. Any Hazbin requests, send em my way!

New Arrival!!! 🏩

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Obvi Charlie is the one who found you and told you all about her hotel, dragging you along “just for a tour” she says in a sweet voice. And you follow along (whether you really want to or not) bc she’s just so kind and energetic and she’s the first caring person you’ve met since you landed in hell. You can’t break her heart after your first meeting :(

Once at the hotel, she’s practically screaming from excitement.

“WE HAVE A NEW ARRIVAL!!! NEEWWW ARRIVAALLLLL~” she sings with her angelic voice, making you crack a small smile at first until it hits you-

“Whoa whoa, wait! I never said I’m staying, you said it’s just a tour!” She pretty much ignores the annoyed look on your face, smiling brightly at you still as she holds her hand out for you.

“By the time I’m through with you, you’ll never want to leave!” Her smile faltered a little. “Well, it’s your choice, I’m not gonna force you. I just have a feeling you’re really gonna like it here.”

At that, your smile grows a bit and you take her hand as she begins showing you around.

It’s very flattering that not only has she offered you her friendship before even learning your name, she is also giving you a tour of her hotel and offering you a room, but the best part…

As she guides you around, she’s asking you all sorts of questions about yourself, your past, where you came from and how you’re adjusting to your new life (afterlife?)

As you pass by a tall gentleman with red hair and a huge smile, he greets Charlie as “princess” and you’re like “oh, is that your dad or something?” She she so plainly responds “oh, no. Lucifer is actually.”

And you choke on your spit for a second, pulling your hand away from hers now (holy shit were you holding hands that whole time?)

“Oh shit! I-I’m so sorry. I had no idea you’re the Princess of Hell. Wow! Should I like…bow to you or…?” Charlie lets out a bright giggle, her eyes closing as she holds her stomach.

“No no no! Please, I’m just Charlie, okay?” And now she’s holding your hand again, continuing her tour.

She gradually introduces you to each staff member and resident you guys pass.

By the end of her tour, you’ve forgotten pretty much everyone else’s name besides Charlie’s.

She is standing right in front of you, both of you in the center of the lobby of the hotel. You’re sort of unintentionally tuning her voice out as you watch her talk, taking note of how bright and shiny her fangs are and how cute she looks in a suit like that and how she’s so pure and heroic and gorgeous and funny and generous and-

“(Y/N)? You okay?” Her saying your name snapped you back to reality. “Sorry, yeah. Uh what were you saying?” “What do you think?”

The nervous but excited face she makes as she awaits your reply is the cutest shit omfggggg ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you take a while to answer just so you can stay this close to her and admire her adorable facial marks and her big eyes.

“I’d love to stay. I’m…not sure if I’m worthy of being redeemed but…I’d like to see more of you- I MEAN what you’re doing here and maybe help out if you need?”

She literally jumps in the air and fist pumps, letting out a loud “WOOHOO!!!” This pulls a soft laugh from your mouth and suddenly as she looks back at you, tears are forming in her eyes and you’re so confused about the sudden mood swing.

“Hey, uh…what’s-“ and before you can finish, she’s hugging you so softly, her eyes closed but her smile never fading.

“I won’t let you down, (Y/N). You’re gonna love it here, I promise.” She pulls back, her hands on your shoulders to keep you close to her as she looks you in the eye. This moment lasts only a few seconds but (both of) you feel your heart jumping in your chest and your mouth go dry.

“Well! Follow me to your room~” She waves a hand at you before turning her back to you and leading the way. As you follow behind her, admiring how her long blonde hair sways with each step, you can feel yourself becoming hot from the nerves, thinking to yourself…

‘Omg…first day down here and I am now living with the princess of hell? I could definitely get used to this.’

Lucifer 🍎🐍

You were actually a good friend of Angel Dust for a while and when he told you all about the new place he was staying, first of all you were happy he was spending less time with Val abd more time with some positive influences, and also you were really interested in Charlie and what she was doing for your fellow sinners.

Eventually, Angel convinces you to come over one day to meet Charlie and maybe possibly talk to her about staying, seeing as you’d like to redeem yourself or at least try.

You’re super nervous, not having many other friends in hell and often staying alone and secure indoors. You’re pretty sheltered now a days…so it’s weird going to meet new people.

Unfortunately, you walked into the Hazbin Hotel with Angel at the worst possible time.

Charlie was ranting and talking to herself, pacing the lobby of the hotel with messy hair and majorly disheveled clothes.

“Uh…what’s up with her?” Angel ask as he points to Charlie, looking over at Vaggie. Vaggie just shakes her head as she approaches Charlie, trying to calm her down.

When Charlie spots you, she smooths her hair back and takes a deep breath, embarrassed that this is your first impression of her.

She introduces herself, a manic look in her eyes still.

“Hi im Charlie! You must be (Y/N)! YAY! Welcome. Sorry, my father will be here soon so…it’s just a little bit on the hectic side today!” Her eye twitches but her smile stays big and shiny.

Holy shit…you’re gonna get to meet the Princess AND the King of Hell in the same day? As if you weren’t already anxious…

You look around to see everyone else cleaning, hanging banners, preparing snacks and you decide to start helping while also very awkwardly trying to introduce yourself and make small talk with everyone else.

“Okay okay OKAY! He’s almost here!” Charlie says looking somewhat excited and nervous at the same time.

You stayed glued to Angel’s side, internally having a panic attack. This day was becoming overwhelming.

Lucifer himself finally walks through the door, immediately focusing on his daughter as well as her three darling pets.

He’s…not at all what you expected but…somehow he’s better? You pictured him being bigger and scarier and in darker clothing but he’s actually….really fucking cute. Like an adorable dorky kind of cute.

You’re just at a loss for words. Watching as he talks to Charlie and argues with Alastor.

Angel gently elbows your arm to get your attention. “You good, hun?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you nod, eyes still fixed on Lucifer.

All you can do is bunch up the fabric from your clothes in your hands tightly, your breathing becoming more rapid as he gives a kind greeting to all of the staff and residents, slowly approaching you.

“And this is (Y/N)! They actually just got here today. I haven’t even had time to show them around yet.” Charlie smiles, looking back and forth between you and her dad.

“Oh, nice to meet you! It’s uh…t-truly an honor, sir. I-I-“ You can’t seem to get another word out once his smile grows, his sharp teeth making an appearance now.

Lucifer took your hand, not really shaking it but just holding it snug in his own.

“Please, please, just call me Lucifer. The pleasure is all mine.”

The eye contact lasts longer than either of you wanted it to. It wasn’t bad, it was just nerve wracking for the both of you. It was only a few seconds of intense staring and soft blushes creeping up before Alastor and Charlie were dragging you two along for a tour.

And commence the hardcore pining for the rest of the day!

As you all stroll from room to room and down long hallways, you two check off every cliche romcom movie moment in the book!

Your hands brush up against each other’s

You keep catching each other staring

You both go to talk at the same time, then both stop, then both giggle and look away and insist the other go first.

At one point, you sort of bump into each other trying to walk through a doorway and then it’s the awkward back and forth of “Sorry, you go ahead.” “Oh no, you first!” “No, no, I insist.” As you’re standing way too close to each other, both stuttering and acting like absolute idiots.

By the end of the hotel tour, your face is redder than Charlie’s suit and our short king has started to break a sweat, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

But you’re both grinning so big, it’s ridiculous

“So, you’re gonna be staying here?” He asks confidently, giving you a charming smile.

“Oh uhm…y-yeah. Sure. If Charlie will have me, that is.” Your reply has Charlie squealing with excitement as Angel watches you and Lucifer interact.

“Magnificent! Good for you. I’ll be seeing you around then, (Y/N).” Lucifer says your name so sweetly it causes you to start blushing all over again.

You’re also blushing bc from behind Lucifer, Angel is winking at you, making kissy faces and humping the air as his way of taunting you and your very obvious crush on the king of hell

Little do you know…he’s got a crush too 🤭

Vaggie ⚔️

Obvi, Charlie introduced you two seeing how Vaggie is Charlie’s right hand man, best friend and protector.

Vaggie is immediately suspicious of you, watching your every move with a tight lined frown on her lips. In her defense, she’s suspicious of every new person she meets.

“This is Vaggie! My best friend and number one supporter here.” Charlie smiles so big it forces her eyes to squint closed. “And thiisssss is (Y/N). Hopefully, maybe…our newest resident?”

The straight faced girl gives you a quick nod followed by a soft “Hey.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you. That’s a cool name, Vaggie. I like it.”

Now she’s feeling a bit less up tight. I mean…You like her name??? That softened her just a tad.

You offer Charlie a small smirk as you shrug. “I dunno. You’re gonna have to give me a tour first, princess.”

And suddenly, Charlie is pulling you along by your wrist, babbling on and on about every detail of the hotel as Vaggie follows behind you two.

You can’t help but keep glancing over at the quiet, long haired girl following you guys. You had hardly even heard her voice yet but there was something about her that made you feel weirdly comfortable and nervous at the same time.

After the tour, Charlie is doing a little happy dance in front of you, eagerly awaiting your reply to her question of whether you’ll stay or not.

You can’t help but laugh at her and how cute and kind she is.

As you open your mouth to give her an answer, your voice seems to give out and you’re totally caught off guard by a soft and slightly low chuckle from beside you.

You look over to see Vaggie now standing closer to you than before and this is the first time you’re seeing her crack a smile.

“Y-yeah, sure. I’ll stay.” You reply, but more so to Vaggie than to Charlie.

“WHOOOO!!!! NEW RESIDENT! We have to celebrate!” Charlie screams out in excitement causing the other residents and staff members to give a little cheer before they all swarmed around the bar, pestering Husk for drinks.

You stayed planted in your spot, still eyeing Vaggie right beside you. You two stand alone, apart from the rest of the group at the bar.

“Welcome aboard, (Y/N). It’ll be nice to have a new face around and…you seem normal enough.” Vaggie finally offers you her hand, a warm smile still on her lips.

You take her hand and give it a gentle shake, your face becoming so hot and flushed that you have to look away and wipe your other hand on your clothes bc it is SWEATY.

“Normal enough?” Your brow raises as you watch her.

“Yeah. We have some odd characters here. You’re probably the most normal one here.” She lets out another soft chuckle, making you tremble a bit. Her voice is just so nice and deep and smooth.

“Oh, heh, right. Well, thanks I guess. This is an incredible opportunity. I can’t believe the princess of hell herself is running a rehabilitation program like this. And, truthfully, I’m just glad to finally have some friends.”

At this point, Vaggie being the smart girl she is can tell that you are nervous. What she doesn’t know is that she is the one making you nervous.

“C’mon, newbie. I’ll introduce you to everyone. But seriously…try to stay away from Nifty.”

“What, why?” You ask as you follow her to the bar.

Before either one of you can speak another word, little Nifty is climbing your body all the way to your face to get a better look at you.

You let out a surprised yelp as she bares her sharp teeth in a creepy smile, giggling manically.

“Oooooh, fresh meat. Hi! I’m Nifty, I clean.” And suddenly, Vaggie is peeling the little demon off you.

You sigh in relief but your breath gets caught in your throat when Vaggie puts an arm around your shoulder.

“Don’t worry. She’s harmless.” Her smile becomes a little softer and a bit sheepish. “For the most part.”

This pulls a soft laugh from both of you and now you’re truly starting to relax.

You spend the night talking with everyone but Vaggie. She’s not much of a talker but OMFG SHE STAYS BESIDE YOU LIKE ALL NIGHT AND WRAPS HER ARM AROUND YOUR SHOULDERS FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE HOURS AND UR PRETTY SURE YOURE IN LOVE

Husk 🃏

Sorry but bro is not gonna introduce himself or even really wanna meet you. Poor guy doesn’t even want to be at the hotel at all so if he doesn’t have to interact with anyone, he won’t.

But he’s leaning his elbows on the bar counter as he watches Charlie go from person to person with you trailing behind her as she introduces you to the staff and residents.

Husk can’t help but scrunch his face and huff in annoyance as he watches the two of you finally approach him.

“Thissss is our lovely bartender, Husk! Husk, this is (Y/N), our newest resident. Isn’t that so exciting!?”

You shoot him a shy smile before waving your hand at him. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Husk eyes you for a second, not returning the smile as he sits up a bit. “Pleasure…” He mumbles in response before taking another swig from the whiskey bottle in his hand.

Husk watches you sitting at the bar for a while after this, just seeing how you interact with everyone and listening to your stories and watching the way your face looks as you laugh or how you seem to get really focused when listening to another person talk or how you keep looking over at him and giving him a small smile.

Finally, you clear your throat before you speak up. “Uh Husk?” He moves his eyes your way but stays still. “Could I get a drink?”

“What do ya want?”

“Surprise me! Or Whatever is easiest.”

And at that, he pours you a straight shot of whiskey in a glass.

You give him a look before picking up the glass. “Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Hey, you said easiest, not tastiest.” He watches you with a raised brow and when your eyes finally meet his gaze, his face seems to soften a bit at the sweet smile you’re wearing.

“Oh I get it! I don’t think I’d have the patience to be a bartender, especially one in hell. So, thanks.” Your smile remains.

“Why are you so fucking cheery and nice? You messing with me or something?” He watches you with a dumbfounded look on his face then glances over at Alastor before looking back to you with a frown.

Hes genuinely confused tho…like how did a kind hearted little thing like you end up in hell? And why are you being so nice to the drunk, smart ass bartender???

“Oh, I-I….um I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Your smile is gone now but you can see on his face that Husk regrets what he just said.

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout him, sweetheart! He’s grumpy like this all the time.” Angel chimes in, making Husk roll his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll uh…give you some space.” You stand and remove yourself from the bar but before you can get far, Husk’s voice calls out to you.

“Come back…Sit down, kid.” And as you turn to return to your seat at the bar, you hear ice being put in a glass.

“I’ll make you some sweet, fruity crap. Seems like something you’d like.”

He whips up your drink rather fast and slides it over to you, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he watches you take a sip.

You take a drink, about to compliment the tasty beverage but then a loud bang sounds from behind you and everyone goes running off, yelling “NIFTY!!! NIFTY, NOOOO!”

You flinch first then turn and watch with wide eyes as a deep chuckle comes from Husk. His laugh makes you turn your attention back to him.

“You’re living here now?” He asks and you nod in reply. “Better get used to that.” He points to where the loud noise just came from.

Finally, he’s got your smile back. He feels a little less guilty now.

“So…are you really always grumpy or…just having a bad day today…?” You ask before sipping your drink again.

Husk simply shrugs in reply.

“Well if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’ll be here. I’m at the very end of that hall there.” You point as a smile stretches on his face. “You can talk to me.”

“You stole my line.” His smile and this new teasing tone of voice make you laugh softly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ya know, people always talk about their baggage with the bartender. No one ever asks the bartender if they need someone to talk to.”

“Well! There’s a first for everything, Husk.”

His face contorts a bit as a blush slowly grows across his nose. Not only were you being disgustingly sweet to him but the way his name sounds coming from your mouth…oof he is feeling some feelings for you rn

“Thanks for the drink. Do I…owe you anything?” You stand but keep your eyes on him, noticing his ears are now pinned back against his head as if he’s scared or shy.

He’s not sure if he’s just really drunk or if you’re just really cute or both??? But he suddenly forgets where he is and what’s going on so all he can do is shake his head ‘no’.

“Oh, okay. Sweet! I’ll see you around then. Goodnight, Husk.”

As you walk towards your room, waving to the other staff members and whispering ‘goodnight’s to them all, Husk is staring so hard omfg

Angel saunters up to the bar, nearly laying across it as he pokes Husk on his blushy nose. Angel snickers when he notices Husk firmly gripping the bottle of whiskey in his claw, his dark eyes watching intently as you walk down the hall until you’re completely out of sight.

Once he can’t see you anymore, his attention finally shifts to the spider demon.

“Ooooh, aawwww! Does the little kitten have a crush on the newbie~?” Angel teases, smiling wider which causes Husk to groan and try to push Angel away.

Angel Dust 🕸️

IMMEDIATELY FLIRTS 🚨🚨🚨

Pickup lines and lingering touches right off the bat. You know baby boy is NOT afraid to make his feelings known.

No one introduces Angel Dust to anyone besides himself 😘

“Hey, sweet pea. I think ya in the wrong place cuz you look like an angel. What’s your name?”

“Heya, cutie pie. Who are ya and what did I do right to get ya here?”

“Well hello there! I didn’t know we’d be having guests~” Spoken as he adjusts his chest fluff all seductively and gives you a wink.

Whether you happily accept his advances or not, he will continue to flirt and give you way too much attention unless you specifically tell him to stop or that it’s making you uncomfortable.

In that case, he’ll chill out on the flirty words but you’ll have to fight him if you want him to stop being handsy. I mean, he has six arms! Just let him put at least one arm on or around you.

Follows you and Charlie around the hotel on your first day, chatting your ear off about everything and anything.

Charlie lowkey gets irritated a few times bc she’s trying to show you around and tell you all about her hotel but Angel just keeps complimenting you and telling you about his line of work in hopes that it’ll tell him more about who you are as a person.

And it’s extremely distracting, in a good way for you but a bad way for poor Charlie :(

“Soooooo? What do ya think, babe? Are we gonna be roomies or what?”

Regardless of your height, I’m sure Angel is much taller and probably rests his arm (or multiple arms) on your head or shoulder as he waits for your response.

“Angel! I wasn’t even done with my tour!” Charlie pouts and now she is also eagerly awaiting your response looking at you like this 😥

“Yeah! Sure. Why not?” You finally say, now trying to look up at the spider demon.

“Alright! Yeah!” He cheers before turning to Charlie with puppy dog eyes.

“Please put (Y/N) in the room next to mine?”

His plea to the princess forces a goofy grin to your lips, making you beam with pride. He wanted to be your neighbor? Cuuttteee~

But you had to question his motives and his true feelings.

All day, he’s flirted and shown his interest in you non stop but you’ve caught him flirting with others around the hotel too so you’re not entirely sure if he’s just really really nice and accepting and wanting to give you a warm welcome or…if he’s actually into you

Cuz you’re sure as hell into him ❤️‍🔥

“Yes, of course!” Charlie replies and suddenly Angel has one of your wrists, Charlie has the other and they’re practically running to your room, both giggling like kids on Christmas morning.

Charlie opens your door to show you the room and Angel enters first then flops down on your bed before you can even get through the doorway.

“Oooh your bed is so comfy. Maybe we can have a sleep over sometime, baby~” He wiggled his brows at you, making you turn beet red all the way down your neck.

“O-oh! Sure, sure. That actually sounds really fun. Heh..thanks for making me feel so welcome, Angel.”

And Angel just about loses it…

You’re so cute and innocent, like you just let him talk all lowkey naughty to you and now he’s watching in adoration at the way you look down at the ground and you can’t control your smile

He totally knows you’re crushing on him. He can sense that shit.

You’re not sure of Angel’s true feelings but he’s so sure of yours

When Angel flirts and throws himself at others in hell, half of them look at him like 😒 “ew bye” (sort of like Husk) and the other half are like 😍 “AWOOGA!!! Me, you, Pound town, right now.”

But you are different…you seem so pure and nice. You shy away from his touch at first before slowly melting into him and his comments obviously make you happy and giddy and he thinks you’re just too cute.

He’s definitely gonna take you up on your agreement to actually have a sleep over.

Starts out innocent with you guys having some drinks and maybe some snacks, maybe watching a movie or listening to music

But if you’re down to take it further, just say the word and Angel will happily kiss you until you can’t breath or even rip your clothes off and ravish you 😉

Alastor 🩸

He’s also the type to introduce himself once you finally run into him.

He’s a very busy man after all, you might even be at the hotel for a day or two before you actually meet him.

“My my! Charlie, you didn’t tell me we had a new resident. Hello, darling! Pleased to meet you. Call me Alastor.” He tips his head to you but keeps his large hands fixed on his cane.

“Oh hi! Nice to meet you too. Uhm…aren’t you…the radio demon?” You ask, equally afraid of him and intrigued by him.

“Why yes, yes I am. You must have heard my show then, yes? What do you think?” He leans forward, invading your personal space a bit with a prideful look in his deep red eyes.

He was testing you in this moment, wondering how you’d respond.

“Oh yes! Well, some of it. But I like it and I’d love to hear more.”

His permanent smile stretched just a bit wider at your response, eyes softening a bit.

“You’re awfully kind, (Y/N). What did a sweet little dove like you do to end up down here, hm?”

“Wait. How did you know-“

“Oh I know your name.” He interrupts, his expression and tone becoming just a bit more ominous but it didn’t scare you much.

“Oh wow, okay.” You watch his expression change before speaking. “I’m not even sure what I did to deserve this. I don’t remember much from my life, it’s all kind of a blur.”

Suddenly, his hand is on your back and he’s gently pushing you the way he wants you to go.

“Did Charlie give you a tour yet?” “Yeah, she did-“ “Oh, who cares! I say we go for another!” This was Alastor’s way of getting you alone to examine you a little closer.

The taller man walked you from room to room and down different hallways, not speaking much but waiting for your voice to shine through instead.

“Uhm c-can I ask you something?” You mumble out shyly, somewhat afraid of how he might respond.

He hums in response, hands behind his back as he continues his slow pace down the hall.

“Do you…always smile? And if you do always smile…why?”

And now he’s looking at you with much more intense eyes, his curved up lips twitching ever so slightly.

“You’re awfully bold, my dear. Most sinners run the opposite way when they see me on the street, but you…well I’ve got you all alone, in an unfamiliar space and you’re asking me such intrusive questions? Hmm…interesting.”

He had stopped walking, causing you to freeze in your spot as well.

Uh oh…was he mad?

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry. You just s-seem so nice and-and friendly. I like your smile. I’m just curious I guess. Sorry again. Forget I said anything!”

Your expression shifted to one of slight worry and concern as Alastor continued to stare you down with his terrifying radio dial pupils.

As apathetic and evil as his expression looked rn, his tiny cold heart stuttered a bit at your words.

Of all the ppl in hell, you thought he was nice?

Part of him was thinking “what the hell is wrong with this one? Why are they so naive?” But the other part of him was like “I NEED TO SIT THIS ONE DOWN AND LEARN MORE, HMM, VERY INTERESTING.”

And you try to keep walking bc now you’re just a tiny bit afraid of what he might say next.

You can’t even take two steps before his hand is gently but firmly latched to your wrist.

“No need to apologize at all! I find your curiosity very amusing. After all, you’re new here.” He gently pats your head, smiling bigger at you as his eyes squint.

You suddenly realize when his eyes squint closed and get wrinkled at the corners, he was genuinely smiling, not just being forced to uphold his smile.

“So…why do you smile all the time?” You ask again, voice barely above a whisper as the radio demon keeps his hand on your wrist.

“Well, You’re never fully dressed without one!”

He lets you go before using his mic cane to gently tap you on the head.

“I’m so very intrigued by you, (Y/N). I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting someone quite like you, especially down here in hell. Well, let me know if you need anything from your gracious hotelier.”

He slowly turns and walks off, his back to you as you yell out in response.

“Thank you, Alastor!”

And then he starts walking a little faster bc your voice is making his head spin a bit.

He’s not used to these feelings.

Well he’s not used to feelings of any kind anymore. It’s been way too long since someone has been so open and receptive to him. Like he said, most ppl run the other way but for whatever you reason, you ran straight at him and he didn’t understand why.

But it made him somewhat excited to get to know you more.

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love-lilly02 · 17 days

Text

The Challenge— Chapter 9

When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral.

It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad.

When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”

Your mom answered that one for you.

Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white.

He almost thought he would have to do it.

“This is bull shit!”

Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”

“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time.

“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter.

“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”

“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”

“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”

And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played.

“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.

“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”

“Actor?”

“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”

“A soldier.”

“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“

“DANCER!”

“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask.

“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.

“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”

“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.”

You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right.

Soap just rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond.

“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming.

“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass.

You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.”

Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers.

Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were.

Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age.

So they didn’t do it alone.

It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them.

And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other.

That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year.

This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for.

Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time.

It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it.

In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.

They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person.

It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister.

He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard.

Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye.

“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”

He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought.

Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…

Oh.

He had to tell Price.

AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

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nightdivinity · 3 months

Text

Drink Responsibly! Prologue

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only.

Platonic! Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Alcohol, bad choices, stupid choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o fic, there is slight blood and gore, it's a vampire au, age gaps, because they're all significantly older, it's going to get suggestive from here on out, reverse harem, slight proofreading

Writer's Note: I want to thank @sophiethewitch1 for inspiring me and talking me through posting my writing. I hope it doesn't let you down! This is also my first time posting my writing on Tumblr, please be gentle. English is not my first language. Also, this is a why choose fic. So, it's Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian x reader. Maybe even Duke. I think four is a lot. Got to draw the line somewhere. Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow.

It was midnight when you finally stumbled out of the latest club. Your heels were long gone, as you had taken them off the first time they got stuck in a grate. You’re pretty sure you handed them to a nice girl in the bathroom while her friend held your hair as you threw up copious amounts of alcohol and bar food. She had been super nice, you liked the way her short black hair was spiked, and her blonde friend’s eyeliner was superb. Anyways, now you are shoeless and desperately looking for the next bar on your crawl.

Gin’s. Ooh, that’ll do. You reach out and grab your friend’s bicep, point at the neon sign, and do vague gestures. Of course, your friend is not as well off as you are, so it takes a while to get your point across. Only they start crying again over their bullshit bar fling, and the fact you have no shoes.

It didn’t matter, none of it truly mattered. Not a single thing. This was your one night off after weeks of back-to-back grueling shifts at a job that doesn’t care whether you live or die. Yesterday you even took a quick unintentional power nap on the toilet. All of this resulted in you being slightly crazed and a little deranged as your night progressed.

But hey, Gotham just brings that out in people. In your job's defense, no one could take any more sick or inclement weather days thanks to all the random villain attacks next to or at your office. You blame the monthly rut.

At least you didn’t get stuck on the subway taped to a bench by the Riddler this week as he awkwardly rifled through a notebook of pickup lines. Life was certainly looking up.

See, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the propaganda you consumed, you were born an Omega. Which had never truly been an issue. Except for the fact that thanks to a few foul choices from the government, it was getting harder and harder to get access to affordable pheromone blockers. You wouldn’t have even chanced this outing if you hadn’t found that one pill that rolled a little under your cabinet. Hey, you were desperate for a night out.

“I’m going there”, you slur.

Yes, this was asinine, but you still managed to wheel yourself and your friend to Gin’s. You hardly noticed the dark shadows following you as your friends from the bathroom quietly herded you. As you and your friend jaywalked across the street, you didn’t notice the red-headed woman standing in the middle of the road, blocking traffic from actually hitting you. It also barely registered when the nice boy with flashing gold eyes took your hand and led you past the line and directly to the front. This. Was. Your. Night. Out.

“Hey man, she can’t come in here with no shoes”, the bouncer at the door complains.

He was going to say more until he looked at the man holding your hand so nicely. You could hear the slight choking noise, and in your drunken stupor, you stumbled a little into your guide.

“He’s going to shit himself”, you stage-whisper. Or what you think was whispering. You were screaming over the pounding bass spilling out of the door.

“Shhh, Jackson, she’s with me”, your guide replies.

“She can come in, her friend can’t. Sorry Duke, they’re way too fucked up”, the bouncer swears.

You gasp and let go of Duke’s hand, instead reaching for your friend and pulling them tight into your embrace. While smashing their face into your chest. Even though you were the most drunk you’ve ever been, you didn’t miss the spike in pissed-off Alpha vibes that happened around you. Still, you smacked a hand against your friend’s ear in an effort to protect them from what was said. Then you got sidetracked by their hair. It reminded you that you wanted a pet. Although with your work and class schedule, it would probably die in a week. Three days tops. At least you had your emotional support friend.

“I can’t leave them alone”, you say.

“Hun, how about I call them an Uber, they look like they’re ready to pass out. They definitely can’t handle it anymore”, Duke replies.

He gestures towards your friend, and you notice how they’re slowly swaying on their feet. Eyes half closed. Shit. It would be shitty if you left them passed out somewhere in the bar as you danced and drank. They were already on their fourth wind and fading fast.

“Look, you see this nice car”, Duke continues.

He turns you three, and suddenly you notice the nice black town car next to the road. You vaguely register the fact that it’s one of those high-roller cars. Ones that only the richest in Gotham could afford.

“See, this is Killian, he works for Wayne Enterprises. He’ll make sure your friend makes it home. I’ll even have him text you when they get there. Won’t that be nice? You don’t have to worry at all (y/n).”, he tells you.

You nod, and it all makes sense somehow in your drunken brain. He knows your name, so obviously you know him. He also knows your friend, since he rattles off their address and gently pries them from your clutches before handing them off to Killian.

You pay no mind to the mention of a name that would have sent shivers down your spine normally. Wayne. Mysterious and dangerous to all who get involved.

“I need them back, don’t sell their organs”, you warn.

Then he gives you a tight brisk smile as he turns away from you. A persistent thought is starting to nag its way through the cotton in your head. The slightest unsettling feeling. Maybe there was something wrong with that blocker pill you found on the floor of your kitchen. You were certainly feeling as though there were a lot of pissed-off Alphas near you. The undercurrent of anger was a tang you couldn’t escape. More and more you felt the need to run somewhere dark and quiet to hide.

You ignore the persistent tugging by Duke as you watch your friend get loaded into the car and driven away. Well. That ends that.

The next time Duke tugs on your hand, it causes you to slightly stagger. He easily catches you and spins you around and through the door before you can protest.

“Can I have a Rum and Coke?”, you shout over the music.

“Yeah totally”, Duke shouts back.

It’s only until you are tugged past the bar that you realize that everything is not all sunshine and daisies. No. No. This is wrong. You want to go back.

You put your heels in. Duke was not ready for resistance as your hand slid out of his grasp on the way to the V.I.P. section. He turns around to get a better hold of you, only to watch you slip into the crowd and get lost in the sea of swaying bodies. Fuck. He was told to bring you to them. You still had to be here, there’s no way you could have bumbled off far. Shit. One job.

Duke ran a palm over his face as he scanned the crowd. There’s no doubt in his mind. Bruce was going to be pissed. He wasn’t supposed to know about your little excursion out. Everyone had agreed, they would watch over you as the day turned. You still weren’t used to Gotham; you didn’t know the sort of creatures that came out during the night. While the rest of the world was happy and filled with normal and meta shifters, Gotham was overflowing with the less-than-stable. All more than happy to take a bite out of the innocent. The only thing that kept it in check was the unspoken King and his disgraced hellions.

If you had been sober, you would have noticed the people slowly disappearing from the crowd. You would have noticed that tonight was absolutely not a good night to be out. One by one, shrieks of fear and pain were mistaken for fun. Jostling in the crowd was hardly registered as the violence spread. The whole night, you were in a sea of sharks feeding. Now you had finally ditched what you didn’t know was your only protection.

Not to worry, fear splashes hot and cold against your nerves as sharp claws grip your arm, your back slamming into the bar as a distended jaw hisses open in front of you.

Yeah. Maybe you should have been drinking responsibly.

#abo batfam x reader #vampire batfam x reader #batfam x reader #how many tags am i supposed to be making #is this yandere? I'm going to go ahead and tag it #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #I'm dying from all this #Can and will be crying later

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