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munsonluhvr · 3 months

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can you make a virgin! Eddie x experienced ! reader smut plsssssss I’ve been wanted to read to read a good story abt something like that yk 🙈 but ima not be picky sooo anything Eddie x reader would be good 😋

Ty I love your stories 💙💙💙

ANATOMY LESSON

contents: virgin!eddie munson x experienced! reader. smut! 18+. Eddie reveals to you, his best friend, that he's a virgin and you offer him a little lesson - but the lesson turns into a lot more then either of you expected. word count - 3.5k

notes: dear requester - I love you for requesting this. There were sooo many different scenarios I thought of writing for this request, and I totally ignored the pile of homework I have to do to write this immediately, but I hope everyone enjoy this. It was awfully fun to write.

“Wait, what?” you say, a laugh lacing your tone. You lay on Eddie’s bed, your sock covered feet digging into his bedsheets. “You’re so lying, you haven’t done it yet? How did I not know that?”

Eddie doesn’t turn to look at you, obviously embarrassed by his admission. Finally, Eddie shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess we never talk about our sex lives with each other.”

“Well, yeah, because there’s clearly not much going on in that department in either of our lives, but I did assume you’ve had sex for the first time by now.” You say, leaning up on your arm to look at Eddie. You were honestly shocked by the admission; how had Eddie not had sex, especially since he’s two years ahead of you?

It’s the wee hours after you and Eddie have been released from school, opting to, as usual, spend time with each other. You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember, always bound at the hip. When you were younger, your parents had been friendly, pushing you and Eddie together. When Eddie’s parents left Eddie with Wayne, his uncle, your parents were quick to absorb Eddie into your family. However, you always made the distinction that you didn’t see yourselves as essentially siblings, everyone certainly knew that you two were the best of friends. Any free time you had you spent with Eddie, every secret you had Eddie knew. Eddie was your other half, and you were his.

Again, Eddie shrugs. “Consider that assumption wrong,” Eddie says, turning away from you.

You can’t help but snicker. Eddie was the coolest, most confident person you know. He never cared about what others thought of him, he owns the title ‘freak’ that Hawkins titled him with utmost pride. Sure, Eddie had never had a girlfriend but that doesn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t had sex.

“Do you want to?” You say, curious. Didn’t every young male want to have sex?

Eddie lets his eyes flick to you; he frowns. “Y/n, I don’t want to talk about it, especially with you.”

You gasp in an exaggerated fashion, leaning on your arm to place your free hand over your heart. “Why not? We talk about everything with each other.”

Eddie rolls onto his side, facing you, mimicking your position. He shakes his head. “This is different. Guy and girl best friends aren’t supposed to inquire about each other’s sex lives.”

You scoff. “That’s bullshit, it’s not a big deal, Eddie. It’s just sex, it seems ridiculous to make that the one topic we don’t talk about with each other.”

Again, Eddie shakes his head, looking off into the distance behind you. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.”

You can understand how Eddie must feel - embarrassed. For some reason, having sex, or talking about it in society is shameful but at the same time not having done it at all, especially as teenagers, is shameful. You decide to joke and make it lighthearted to encourage him to lighten up. It truly wasn’t a big deal.

“Eddie Munson, are you the waiting until marriage type?” You say, laughing as you shove him lightly.

Eddie groans, burying his face into his tattooed covered bicep. “Y/n, stop. Trust me, not having had sex yet isn’t a choice; I would have done by now if the opportunity ever occurred.”

“Is there someone you want to do it with?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Eddie hadn’t recently expressed having a crush on anyone at school but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a girl he has his eye on.

“No,” Eddie says. He peeks up at you from his arm. “Okay, fine, yes.”

“Eddie, what the hell,” you exclaim. “Are we even best friends if you keep all these things from me?”

“I’m telling you now,” Eddie says, sitting back up. “It’s embarrassing; I like this girl but have no experience in that department whatsoever. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I got her back home.”

You are dying to know who Eddie likes, knowing that whoever she is, she’s lucky. You’d love nothing more to encourage Eddie to pursue this girl, but you know asking who she is might be a bridge to far for Eddie in this moment; you decide to stay focused on the topic at hand.

You’re silent for a minute, thinking over tips to help Eddie in the moment where he would have a sexual encounter with a girl – then a wild idea comes to your mind.

“I’ll help you,” you say, sitting up. “I’ll teach you what to do.”

Eddie frowns. “What? How would you teach me to have sex?”

You laugh, knowing what you’re about to say will shock Eddie. “I’ll have sex with you,” you say nonchalantly and as if Eddie should have understood that right away.

“Y/n,” Eddie says, jolting up from his spot on his bed. “Have you lost your mind?”

You shrug, starting to peel off your jacket you’re wearing. “Like I said, sex is no big deal. I can walk you through what to do so you know what to do when it happens with the girl you like.”

Eddie crosses his arms, sliding himself off the bed to pace at the foot of his bed. Your head goes from side to side as you watch your best friend walk from one side of his bedroom to the other side. “No, I can’t have sex with you, you’re my best friend.”

You hum. “To me, that’s exactly why you should have sex with me. Think about it Eddie, we have been in each other’s lives for as long as we can remember, we’ve done everything together and know everything about each other. We’ve always been there for and supported each other in any way the other needs; teaching you how to have sex is just another way I can support you.”

The idea to have sex with Eddie, with the end goal being that Eddie is more confident with a girl, sounded insane to begin with and even suggest, but as you explain yourself– it didn’t sound that insane at all.

Eddie laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair then crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a joke, right?”

You roll your eyes. “No, it’s not. Here, I’ll prove it: I’ll show you my tits.” You say, tucking your hands underneath your t-shirt and letting your fingers dig underneath the band of your bra.

Eddie yelps, covering his eyes. “No, y/n, don’t. Okay, I believe you.”

You laugh, dropping your hands into your lap. “I’m serious, Eddie. We can take it slow; I’ll teach you everything and answer any questions you have.”

Eddie glances at you, maintaining eye-contact as he mulls over a response to your question. Eddie is twenty years old, far passed the average age everyone at Hawkins has sex for the first time. Always, but more recently, he’s been worried about how his performance might be for the lucky lady and how she might expect him to be more experienced considering his age. Although he finds your proposition jarring, he decides to put the awkwardness aside and take up your offer. “Okay,” is all Eddie can manage to say.

You clasp your hands, happy that your oh so thoughtful offer was accepted. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Are you ready?”

“You want to do it right now?” Eddie says, his eyes growing wider. A hot wave washes over him, instantly becoming nervous.

You give him a curious look. “I mean, there’s no better time than the present, plus we didn’t have any other plans for later.”

You watch Eddie as he turns into a nervous wreck, his fingertips digging into his already crossed arms. You can imagine how being told you’re going to have sex on the spot can make someone feel, so you lean forward on the bed, outstretching your arm to grasp onto Eddie. “It’s okay, we’ll take care of each other,” you say, offering a small smile.

In response to your touch, Eddie lets his arms drop to his sides. He moves from the end of the bed to the side you occupy, getting several feet closer to you. “Okay, right now it is then,” Eddie says, nervousness lacing his words.

And you begin your lesson.

“Okay, so. Say you just took this mysterious girl that you like out on a date and things went so well, which she’s on a date with you so of course it would, that you take her back to here.” You say, gesturing towards his bedroom that you both stand in. “Once she gives you that look, a look that says, ‘I want to have mind blowing sex with you have to set the mood immediately.”

“Set the mood?” Eddie says.

You roll your eyes. “Kiss her. You have to start kissing her, Eddie. Feel her up a little, don’t be coy, I know you’ve watched porn before.” Eddie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment but you continue on.

You scoot over on the bed, allowing space for Eddie to sit. You pat the open space, tugging Eddie to sit next to you. “When you start with kissing, it makes it easier to transition to stripping clothes off and ultimately have sex, you know?”

Eddie nods, crossing his arms across his chest. You’re quick to uncross them, scooting closer to Eddie, the side of your leg touching his. “Okay, go, kiss me.”

Eddie’s mouth opens and the closes, his mind drawing a blank. “Okay, no, that is a bridge too far.”

“Eddie, did you really think I’d just let you dry fuck me without any foreplay? Foreplay is the most important part.” You exclaim, shaking your head.

Eddie looks away and then complies. He leans in, his hands placing themselves on your cheek, drawing you closer to him. Your lips meet, letting your mouths intertwine with each other, tongues beginning to dance. You thought Eddie would pull away quickly, but he doesn’t, letting your mouth stay connected to his. You can feel the eagerness in his mouth, every movement begging for more. You take your lesson to second base.

Swiftly, you lay back on Eddie’s bed, Eddie following you down. With ease, he arranges himself over you as you part your legs to let him rest on top of you comfortably. You lean your head back, letting your lips break away from Eddie’s. “Very good, now is when you start taking her clothes off – and yours.”

Eddie squirms nervously on top of you and you’re sure you feel his arms lightly tremble. “Are you sure about this?”

“Never been surer about anything, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back onto his knees. His fingers tempt the end of his t-shirt, lifting it up and off of his torso. You watch, looking at his tattooed covered body and noticing the necklace that has a guitar pick as it’s pendant that hangs around his neck. You roll your eyes; He loves that thing.

Eddie goes to unbuckle his belt, but you gently kick his leg. “Don’t take off all your clothes and then mine; make it a back-and-forth thing. You take your shirt off, then take mine off. It’s a joint effort, let her do some of the work too.”

Eddie considers this, coming to an understanding on your principle. He places himself over you, his fingers twitching as he plays with the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up and off your body too.

Eddie has never seen you naked, not fully at least. Sure, there was that one time you got caught in the rain and your shirt was so soaked that you stripped it off once you got to his house, opting to borrow one of Eddie’s shirts. He had seen your bra then, the way your breasts settled in your bra nicely, the raindrops dripping down your chest. There was also that other time he realized how comfortable you were with him when you stripped down to your underwear and bra on a hot Indiana summer day, unable to bear the feeling of your clothes on your body or against your skin. Eddie had tried, in both of those instances, to give you your privacy and not stare at your assets – but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were drawn to your silky, supple skin, your curves, and the way you were so close to being naked, revealing your most intimate parts to him, but he didn’t let himself think about you in that way – at least not then.

Eddie tosses your shirt on the side of his bed, letting it drop to the floor. He realizes he’s holding his breath as he’s looking at your breasts, one of your nipples poking out from behind the bra. You notice that he’s analyzing you, taking in your bare skin. You don’t mind, you find yourself comfortable under his gaze.

“Keep going,” you say, though it comes out as a whisper. Your hands travel to his crotch, your fingers beginning to unzip the fly of his pants. Once his jeans are unzipped, you and Eddie work together to shrug his jeans off. You kick his jeans to the side of the bed, letting the piece of clothing fall next to your shirt on the floor. Eddie is quick to attend to your pants, his fingers enveloping the band of your jeans, pulling your bottoms off swiftly. Your hands find their way to his biceps, steadying yourself as Eddie works to pull your clothes off.

Eddie feels himself getting hard against your thigh, his arousal growing stronger but he’s quick to try and hide that fact. You lean up, your front pressing into Eddie as you reach behind yourself, unclipping your bra. Eddie almost cums in his boxers as he watches your breasts bounce out of your undergarment. Eddie doesn’t know what to do next, his mind in a whirlwind. He closes his eyes, looking away from you as he shrugs his boxers off, his cock bouncing out of its restraint, showcasing his arousal.

You swallow hard, eyeing his larger-then-you-imagined cock. Eddie has never known if his cock is a decent size, never having anything to compare it to or someone to tell him so, but by the look on your face, he knows he’s just fine.

Eddie waits a beat, waiting for you to pull your panties down but you don’t move. You want him to take them off. Eddie catches on eventually, hooking his two fingers on either side of your hips, pulling your panties off with ease. Deep inside, Eddie’s sexual hunger grows, wishing he could do away with your rules, letting his primal nature guide the exploration of your body. But he restrains himself, waiting for your instructions.

You part your legs, revealing your most sensitive part and now it’s Eddie’s turn to swallow hard, beginning to imagine what’s to come.

“And now?” Eddie says, his fingertips brushing your jaw as he pushes a strand of your hair that clings to your face. You watch him intensely, feeling the tension grow between you and Eddie rapidly. A pit grows in your stomach, the stimulation of Eddie de-clothing you causing a rush of emotions. You’re hoping this doesn’t turn out to be a mistake.

You clear your throat. “I have a feeling you know what to do now.” In response, Eddie offers you a small smile, re-positioning himself on top of you.

Eddie lines himself up with you, cock in his hand, and he inserts the tip in, pushing himself into you slowly. You gasp, biting your lip as you let your head fall back; the feeling of Eddie pushing himself inside of you igniting a strong sense of pleasure throughout your body and limbs.

Eddie thinks back to the porn he’s watched, though he knows that’s not an accurate representation of sex or how girl want to be treated. He mimics some of what he’s remembered seeing, rolling his hips so that he pulls himself in and out of you rhythmically.

You let your legs wrap around Eddie’s waist; Eddie glances down, noticing how he’s drawn into you further when your legs attached to him – he wishes he could have your legs around him forever, holding him in place. He shakes his head at the thought.

“What’s wrong?” You say, your hands finding their way to Eddie’s face. Eddie continues to move in and out of you and a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Oh, uh – nothing.” Eddie says, adjusting his arm that rests next to you. His new position brings you and Eddie’s chests closer, your nipples brushing his bare skin. Eddie finds himself not being able to concentrate.

Your hands move from his face, moving them to let your fingertips brush Eddie’s back. His skin his warm, your body feeling cold and exposed. Your body heats up when you acknowledge how Eddie’s cock bulges inside of you, stretching the walls of your cunt to allow him inside of you. You had already had sex before, with two or three guys, but no guy was as big as Eddie – of course Eddie would have the biggest cock out of all the guys you’ve slept with.

While you’re thinking about how Eddie’s cock is painfully, yet pleasurably, big - Eddie is staring at your tits, wondering how they’d fit in his mouth. Just then, Eddie has no idea what comes over him. He suddenly has no regard for the concept of your ‘anatomy’ exercise, attempting to teach him how to have sex as his best friend – Eddie just wants to fuck the shit out of you. He wants to fuck his best friend.

Eddie dips down to your chest, his large, ring-covered hand, clasping your breast. His mouth engulfs your breast, his lips puckering around your hard nipples. Eddie lets his tongue flatten against you, roughly licking your tits. You gasp again, your body arching in response to his bold act. Instantly, your fingers lace into his hair, pushing him further down against your chest. Eddie, emboldened by your response, moves to your other breast, copying what he had done just seconds before.

Once he finishes with your second breast, Eddie keeps his mouth to your sternum, placing a trail of kisses from your chest up to your neck, leaving soft kisses underneath your ear.

“Go faster,” You say, your thighs clenching around him. You knew it was wrong, the feeling you have growing inside of you as Eddie thrusts in and out of you. You wanted him bad, in ways you knew weren’t the ways you should think about your best friends.

Eddie obeys, making his movements quicker, his thrusts rougher. Eddie loves the way he feels in this moment, the trembling of yours legs around him and the way your fingertips grip the roots of his hair. He never wanted this to end.

“Am I doing it right?” Eddie says, mumbling into your neck.

“You’re doing so good, that girl, whoever she is, is so lucky.” You say, a moan parting your sentence. “Fuck, this feels good.” Eddie smiles against your skin at your answer, his body moving smoothly against yours as if you’re two perfect fitting puzzle pieces.

Eddie feels a burning sensation growing inside of him, his skin beginning to flush. He was about to finish. Obviously, Eddie had jerked off before, a lot actually, so he knew what feeling close felt like but this time feeling like he’s about to come while inside of you feels a lot different – it feels so much better. He doesn’t want to stop, enjoying the way he’s come to having sex with ease, as if he’s a natural at it, but he knows the inevitable and not something he can control entirely.

You, being just as wild as Eddie, pull his mouth back to yours, enveloping your lips on his. The action made everything much more intimate, so much deeper than just helping your friend out. Your lips nip at his, begging to be paid attention to. Eddie leans on one arm, letting his hand trail to your face, his large hand cupping half of your face. He leans into the kiss, glad to pay attention to your mouth. Eddie feels the intimacy grow between you, making his arousal even stronger, and he comes – instantly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Eddie whispers, separating his mouth from yours. He looks down, noticing how specks of his semen are splatted across your inner thighs.

You laugh softly, secretly wishing you could go for a second round. You mauver your body under Eddie’s top sheet, hiding yourself from Eddie. “And that’s how you have sex. I’ll give you an A-, you should pay more attention to foreplay when the real thing happens.”

Eddie follows you, submersing himself under the sheets. “So, you’re saying I could use more lessons with you?”

You frown, looking over at Eddie. “What? You want to do this again?”

Eddie looks away, staring at his guitar that hangs on his mirror. His guitar is his prized position, a material object he finds so much confidence and security in. Eddie realizes it’s time to confess. “You know the girl you asked me about?” Eddie asks you. “Well, that girl is you.”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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theemporium · 3 months

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a wee blurb based off this and a conversation with @scuderiahoney 🤠

Oscar Piastri never got drunk, at least not in front of his fellow Formula One colleagues.

It wasn’t obvious at first. He was a rookie, a new kid on the grid, the new guy who kind of started off with a bang before he even sat in the car with all the drama surrounding his contract. It wasn’t out of this world to assume he was a little shy and didn’t feel all that comfortable getting drunk with people who had known each other for years.

But the season progressed and friendships grew, and yet still Oscar Piastri just never seemed to get drunk.

He would have a drink or two, maybe a bottle of beer on top if he had a big meal beforehand. But he never passed the point of tipsy, never passed the point where he wasn’t totally aware of what he was doing.

Lando had cornered Logan Sargeant after one of the races, hell bent on trying to figure out what the deal was with his teammate.

“So what’s Oscar’s deal with drinking?”

The blond turned to him, brows raised in surprise. “What?”

“What’s his deal? Why does he not go beyond three drinks?” Lando questioned, insistent and eager for answers.

“I don’t think that’s in my place to say—” Logan started before he was cut off.

“Is he a recovering alcoholic?”

Logan blinked. “What?”

“I’m not judging!” Lando quickly added, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’d just feel like a right dick if I was pushing him to do something he was recovering from, you know?”

“And you went straight to alcoholism?” Logan shook his head. “Dude, did it ever occur to you that maybe he just doesn’t like drinking?”

Lando narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Have you ever seen him drunk?”

Logan paused, only for a few seconds but it was enough to make the Brit gasp.

“You have!” Lando grinned when he noticed a flush spread across Logan’s face. “Oh god, that must mean it’s embarrassing! What’s the deal, huh? Does he start stripping after four drinks? Get angry? Turn into the Incredible Hulk?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Oscar would appreciate me saying, he gets shy about it.”

The Brit let out a huff. “You’re no fun to gossip with, Sargeant.”

But as it would turn out, Lando and the rest of the grid would find out exactly why Oscar never went beyond his three drink limit in the Aussie’s second season.

The season was young, the car was good and by some fucking miracle, Oscar had found himself on the podium at his home race. It was a thrill he never expected to feel, it was a buzz that he felt himself slowly becoming addicted to. And the fact there was a large group of people he called home cheering him on when he accepted his trophy definitely didn’t help.

He was on a high and he didn’t want to stop—and neither did the drinks. It seemed like every driver he bumped into in the small club seemed eager to buy him a drink to celebrate, and Oscar was so high on adrenaline that he couldn’t bring himself to care about his limit.

It was somewhere after his fifth drink and his third round of shots when Lando found him. He looked lost as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, his lips turned down (almost in a pout) and his wide eyes looking around the place.

Lando frowned, making his way over as he clapped his teammate on the shoulder. “You all good, mate?”

To his surprise, Oscar shrugged his hand off with a frown. “No.”

Lando blinked, something quite like concern bubbling inside him. “No? Did something happen?”

“I—” Oscar paused as he continued to look around the club. “I want her.”

“Huh?”

“I want—” Oscar let out a frustrated noise, almost a bit like a whine. “I want my girl. Where’s my girl?”

Realisation slowly dawned on Lando as he noted the fact you weren’t with your boyfriend. He knew you joined them at the club, the three of you had taken a taxi together but he hadn’t seen you in a few hours.

“Uh, I don’t know, mate,” Lando answered honestly, which didn’t feel the right thing to say as Oscar began to push through the crowd. “Woah, Oscar—”

“I want my girl,” Oscar muttered once again, barely audible over the blasting music.

Lando was quick to follow him through the crowd, aimlessly trying to help and make Oscar stand in one place so they could text you but the boy seemed hell bent on having you in his arms in that second.

It took five minutes—five long, agonising minutes—before they found you. The second Oscar’s eyes landed on you, it was like the pouty boy from before was nowhere to be seen as a huge grin took over his face.

“MY GIRL!”

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as your boyfriend barrelled towards you, wrapping his arms around you and practically pressing every inch of his body against yours.

Lando watched as you hugged him back, as your grin matched his whilst you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He waited for the two of you to pull apart, to stand shoulder to shoulder because that was usually as touchy as either of you got in public.

But Oscar didn’t let go.

“Baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and amused as Oscar nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck.

“Uh,” Lando couldn’t even help himself, the alcohol in his system fuelling his confusion and loose lips. “Is he okay?”

You turned to the Brit, a smile on your lips. “Oh yeah, he just gets a bit…clingy when he’s drunk.”

“M’not clingy,” Oscar grumbled but he made no move to pull himself away from you.

“Of course not,” you mused as your hands fell to either side of his cheeks, lifting his head enough to press a kiss to his forehead before letting it fall down to lean on your shoulder again. You turned to Lando with a shrug. “We’ll probably head out now. You joining us?”

“Nah,” Lando waved you off, still somewhat flabbergasted by what he was witnessing. “You think you’ll get him home alright by yourself?”

You snorted. “He’s basically a big baby at this point, I’ve got him.”

“M’not a baby,” Oscar huffed out.

You only grinned in response. “C’mon, baby, let’s go.”

Oscar lifted his head, blinking slowly with a hopeful look on his face. “Cuddles?”

“Cuddles,” you confirmed, waving the Brit goodbye before you made your way towards the exit of the club.

Lando stood there, mouth agape as he stared at your parting figures when Logan found him. The American was grinning from ear to ear, taking a long dreg from his beer bottle.

“It would’ve been less of a mindfuck if he was an alcoholic, right?” Logan commented with a snort.

“I feel…dirty seeing him so touchy,” Lando whispered.

Logan laughed. “Yeah, just be glad you haven’t seen him when he’s high yet.”

Lando’s head snapped around, looking both intrigued and alarmed. “Why? What is he like when he’s high?”

The boy grinned wider.

“LOGAN, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 1 month

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Overlords + child overlord reader

!!!Not proofread!

Alastor: “They're filled with potential that I could guide!” Yeah, he’d try to recruit you. Listen while I know this probably would never happen I think it would be funny if he actually started seeing you as his kid. Like this man did not think of even slightly liking you, but here you are as his kid. Anywho- He would trust you to go out by yourself. I mean you're literally an overlord. But you're also a kid who is seen as weak and an easy target. While you usually deal with it, you have been hit a few times. Since you’ve become his kid his Radio show is never running low on screams. You make fun of Vox together at meetings.

Rosie: Do you want a new mom? Yes? Well, you’re in luck! No? Too bad! Either way, you’re adopted now, congrats. Maybe not legally but it’s hard to tell the difference with you too. Very impressed with how powerful you are at such a young age. A wee bit worried but still you’re powerful. Just tell her if someone does land a hit on you though, depending on her mood she might get a new meal. If need advice on anything, especially being an overlord, she’ll happily comply. Also, she will let you sit on her lap at meetings.

Vox: fucking Ipad baby For the most part he wouldn’t pay any mind to you tbh. But if you openly hate Alastor? There is a new member of the vees I’ll tell you that much. Even if your name does start with a v. You only really run into him on the street and in meetings though. Your ass is not going into the headquarters (or whatever it's called) because of a certain, as Velvette would say, piss baby. You're getting the latest technology. Whether you want it or not is irrelevant.

Velvette: Girlie (gender neutral) if you are on her good side you are spoiled. But you do have to get rid of ¾ of your closet. But you also get new clothes so you win some, you lose a few hundred. You are allowed into the v headquarters but only for short periods of time and in her area only. I would compare you to a sassy rich lady and her poodle. Carmilla: Listen I’m going to keep it real with you she does not want you to be an overlord. Like even if you guys don’t get along you’re still a child. Keeps a close eye on you. Anyway, she has three kids now. She’s leading the meeting while you're just sitting on her shoulders. No one dares mention it because they don’t want to find out if she’ll put her weapons to use. Very good life advice, it rivals Rosie’s. If were to get adopted by any overlord she’d be the best pick.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #rosie x reader #velvette x reader #carmilla x reader #vox x reader #child reader

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comatosebunny09 · 8 months

Text

personal headcanons | leon k.

genre(s): humor, romance, erotica, modern au warning(s): female reader in mind, language, age gap, self indulgent, fingering, oral, p in v, voice kink, mentions of choking, bodily fluids, dirty talk, pet names, mostly me being a horny spazz for this man, not proofread now playing: funny how time flies - janet jackson

‣ most of your jokes consist of poking fun at your age difference.

‣ seriously. gen x vs. gen y is strong with this one.

‣ prime example: you give him shit about his car still having a cassette player.

‣ “get with the times, grandpa.”

‣ “fuck off. it’s retro.”

‣ “you’re retro, old man.”

‣ thinks the fact you still watch cartoons is endearing.

‣ but, “what the fuck is adventure time?”

‣ will “back in my day” you until you roll your eyes and scoff, shutting him up with a kiss.

‣ has your back despite how often you call him old.

‣ like you’re not getting up there yourself—your aching back and knees!

‣ goes out of his way to bring you little trinkets and snacks when he goes on missions in other countries.

‣ it eats him up that he can’t divulge the secrets of his profession.

‣ never wants to hide anything from you; you make him want to give you the world.

‣ but he knows he has to keep some secrets to protect you.

‣ you love him nonetheless.

‣ tug on his little heartstrings when you fall asleep on the phone with him.

‣ or when he catches you between sleep and consciousness on the couch when he’s had another late night around the office.

‣ secretly loves whisking you off to bed like some knight in shining armor.

‣ ridiculously gentle despite his imposing figure and calloused hands.

‣ sometimes riddled with those intrusive thoughts of choking you because he knows he could crush you with how small you are compared to him.

‣ not like you’d complain—sometimes, you ask him to lose a little control.

‣ and that scares him shitless because, who made you like this?

‣ despite how badly he wants to show you how much he’s missed you, he lets you sleep.

‣ holds you tight while you sink below the depths of unconsciousness.

‣ because sometimes, letting you go feels like you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke.

‣ but when you awaken before the sun…

‣ oh, it’s on.

‣ because you think you’re so slick, rutting your little ass against him in the wee hours of the morning.

‣ challenge: accepted.

‣ knows what his voice does to you. how the low rumble of it makes you clench and stutter.

‣ and when you rub your thighs together to ward off that fuzzy rush of endorphins between them…

‣ fuck.

‣ “did somebody miss me?” he croons, his stubble coarse in the junction of your shoulder as he litters your neck with kisses and holds your chin in his massive hand.

‣ loves to tease you into submission.

‣ will touch and suckle everywhere except where you want him the most.

‣ and he will do this for hours until you growl for him to “stop being a little shit.”

‣ “thought you were sleepin’, baby.”

‣ plays with your pretty nipples until they’re pebbled and straining against your clothes.

‣ flitters his tongue over them, groaning because you taste and feel so goddamn good.

‣ spreads you open like a flower with long, languid strokes of his fingers.

‣ and the sticky glide of your cunt against his fingertips makes his dick jump.

‣ “makin’ a mess for me already, love? so fuckin’ cute, aren’t you?”

‣ alternates between circling your clit and testing the barrier of your sticky, slutty little pussy hole depending on how your body responds to him.

‣ because when you undulate your hips against him in response, he soaks his joggers with pre-spend.

‣ will make you cum at least thrice on his hand.

‣ and will keep fucking you through your orgasms because, who told you to feel this good?

‣ until you beg him for something more filling.

‣ can give you a solid two rounds in pound-town.

‣ he’s not as young as he used to be, god dammit. cut ‘em some slack.

‣ apologetic if he cums before you, though he makes it his mission to ensure you get yours first.

‣ but will finish you off with his mouth if you so please.

‣ eating you out is his favorite pastime. he gets hard all over again just from being between your legs.

‣ will twine your fingers together and maintain some semblance of eye contact while he unravels you with his mouth.

‣ and will groan into your cunt to let you know how appreciative he is for the meal.

‣ vocal af.

‣ will continue until your thighs clamp down on his face, signaling him to “s-stop. to-too much.”

‣ god forbid he’s in a teasing mood because you’ll have to punch him to get him to stop.

‣ but, you’re irresistible when you beg, and—

‣ fuck. he’s suddenly up for round 3.

‣ aftercare is immaculate.✨

‣ has a hard time keeping up with your energy sometimes.

‣ but will definitely heft you up with one hand as he walks you into the house to kiss you stupid against the wall of your entryway.

‣ will definitely dance on the table with you in his underwear.

‣ and indulges you in your childish requests—pillow fort? he’s down.

‣ content with just existing in your presence.

‣ you’re his vice; his kryptonite.

‣ and he’s hopelessly romantic for you.

‣ because you have him doing all the cliche shit. kissing in the rain. swinging hands on the beach, walking into the sunset. sporadically showing up at your job with flowers and takeout.

‣ grabbing your ass in public to let everyone know that yes, this old man’s hittin’ that.

‣ he’s head over heels for you.

‣ and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

‣ because you make him feel something he thought himself dead to for years.

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil fic #self indulgent #tw: smut #tw: language #cw: bodily fluids #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon s kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons #leon headcanons

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kennedyslvr · 11 months

Note

MORE SOFT LEON PLEASEEEEEE!!!! Smth like Leon fucks m!reader after their mission together and Hunnigan calls reader while they're doing it and Leon goes even harder, tryna make reader louder during the call ^_^

warnings: nsfw, m.reader, breeding, a wee bit of feminization, sex while on the phone, leon is a jealous baby, daddy kink, marking

word count: 878

note: this was so fun to write, ty for the request! :D

—

leon was so cute when he was like this, rutting into your ass while he pinned you to the bed hungrily sucking onto your neck. you two finally got ashley to her home safely after a grueling week in spain, you both were so pent up the whole time, never being able to do more than a quick makeout sesh when you had a second to do so. when you two finally got home he practically pounced on you, grinding into your ass while constantly whining into your neck, begging, pleading for you to let him fuck you raw.

now here you are, leon hovering over you forcing his cock into your tight hole, whispering and whining sweet nothings in your ear, he was practically melting into you. “fuck fuck fuck…baby i needed this so bad, love you i love you s’much love you love love love…” he was absolutely drunk on you and your smell, his brain was practically soup sloshing around in his head. you rolled your hips up to feel some friction on your swollen cock, leon must’ve noticed this since he grabbed your cock and started to stroke it almost violently. your whole body tried to curl up and away from leon’s rough grasp of your cock, it was so much you thought you were gonna die.

“le-leee….not so rough…m-my cock hurts…” you whined trying to slow his hand down from the violent assault on your swollen cock, he whined when you tried to do this. how could you reject the pleasure he gives you? he was just trying to make you feel good, now you’re being so mean to him. “need to make you fe-feel god, please please please wanna make your cock happy…please?” before you could even respond you heard your phone ring, leon halted his movements for a moment watching you as you annoyingly answered the phone. it was hunnigan, you couldn’t really be that mad at her for trying to talk to you after that rough mission in spain. “oh, you actually picked up, that’s surprising. how are you and leon doing?”

before you could answer leon picked up your hips and started pounding into you again, you let out a silent scream before trying to resume the conversation. “he-he’s just fine…just trying! trying. to have a pr-private moment.” leon grabbed the base of your cock with one of his hands while the other twisted it’s palm against your sensitive tip, you arched your back while trying to stop leon from being so rough with you. it was your own fault, how could you answer a call from someone while you're with him? you were being mean to him, how dare you not give him all your attention? hunnigan continued talking only to be met with short choked out responses, you couldn’t hold out anymore, you really did try to act like nothing but the way leon grinded into your prostate had you seeing stars. “fu-fuck leon right there!” you dropped your phone entirely and wrapped your arms around leon’s neck, he moaned into your neck while sucking and biting it. “your so mean to me baby…you ignored me for her. so so mean.” he whined, he was always so possessive after missions and during sex in general but this time it felt different.

“m’sorry leon please please let cum together, yeah? wa-want you to cum in my ass, fuck me like a girl, g-get me pregnant…please?” leon forced your legs up past your head in a mating press, he plowed into you trying to make your request come true. so what if you were a man? he would stop at nothing to breed you with his babies, making sure you're so full with his cum that it oozes out of you. “yes yes yes, i’ll breed you. get you pr-pregnant, make sure no one else takes you away from me. love you i love you fuucck.” he grabs you by your throat to share a passionate kiss with you, everything felt good. your cock slapped against your tummy every time he thrusted into you, you could felt the knot in your belly tightening. “leon! please m’gonna cum please give me your cum…give me your babies, daddy!” leon pulled back giving you a drunk smirk. “that’s right, cum. cum with me baby, gonna fuck you full of my cum. gonna fuck you like you have a womb- fuck i’m cu-cumming!” he held you as close as he could while dropping his full body weight onto you, filling you up with his warm seed. your cum shot up to your chest and neck before you fully settled, finally coming down from your high. you suddenly felt leon’s tongue quickly lap up the cum that was on your body, how could anyone blame him? it was gonna go to waste if he didn’t lick it all up!

“fuck baby, you were so good. so good for me, i love you prince.” you giggled tiredly while sharing a soft kiss, your soft moment was broken by the sound of hunnigan clearing her throat. you could die right then and there, you forgot to hang up the phone before leon pounded you. “uh….hunnigan…?” “save it, i’m just gonna hang up now…hunnigan out.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x male reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #smut #this was cute to me omg #kennedyslvr

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itsascreambaby96 · 10 months

Text

Summer Camp

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ mdni!!! Mentions of blood, death and stabbing, double penetration. Name calling. A little bit of somnophilia. Oral (m on f) . Pet names. Choking. Slapping. If I missed anything please let me know.

Pairings: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Word count: 5k

A/N: This technically wasn't a request. It can be read as a second part of this fic. But mainly it is its own fic no need to read the other one to understand this one. I also have no idea if the camp really exists, I made the name up. Please enjoy and leave feedback.

"You've never been to summer camp when you were a wee kid?!"

Stu couldn't believe it, neither could Billy but he didn't make a big deal out of it, other than Stu.

You just shrugged. "I didn't. Why is that such a problem?"

"It's not." Billy said, giving Stu a look.

"Well it kinda is! I mean every child went to summer camp so their parents could have some time off of them right?"

That did leave a little peng in your heart. Poor Stu, he always had a rather complicated relationship with his parents.

"You really should see a therapist because of that." Billy spoke again. Stu gave him a look.

"Yeah well if I should then you should too, because of your unresolved mommy problems!" Stu was not amused and now he was dragging Billy down too.

You had to do something quick, or your boys would definitely kill each other.

"So what did I miss while not going to a summer camp?" That got Stu's attention back to you. He went into great detail on all the things he had to do, shooting arrows, canoeing, even making friendship bracelets, the horror stories they told in their little cabin. How he was the master of horror stories, which earned him a snort from Billy.

"You went there together?"

"Jup, I always snuck into Billy's cabin cause it was more fun there." Stu gave you a wink. "Especially when we were older."

"And I clearly remember I got the badge for best Horror Story teller." Billy grinned.

"Pf in your dreams!"

"No no I clearly remember! How you almost pooped your pants when I told the story of the guy who slaughtered every kid in summer camp."

"First, that was just your wishful thinking. Second, it is the plot of Friday the 13th."

"So? Not my fault those kids didn't watch the movie."

"Yeah cause we were kids!"

"I watched it."

"Because you are not normal."

You laughed softly at their banter. You were so used to it by now.

"What else did you guys do?" And so they went on with their stories.

You thought with that the topic would end. And you were right. But a few weeks before you guys left for college, your boys came up with a camping trip. You weren't a big fan of camping but they were persistent. You couldn't really say no to their ideas. So you agreed. Maybe it could be fun. If only you knew how much fun it would be.

You drove 3 hours to a big forest. Billy assigned you to make a mixtape for the journey and also let you drive shotgun.

Stu was pouty for an hour, before his good mood returned. You might have given him one too many sweets. When you arrived you parked the car at the destined spot and got out. Both Billy and Stu had packed a big backpack making sure you didn't have to carry too much. Aren't they the sweetest? Then you three were off into the woods. It was very hot and you were glad for the shorts you were wearing, though you were sure your legs would be littered with insect bites. Oh well, the fun of going camping. What you failed to notice was that neither Stu nor Billy had packed a tent. They had a much different plan. It also seemed like they knew exactly where they were going, well at least Billy because Stu was next to you talking. It wasn't as bad as you expected it to go actually.

After 3 hours though you were getting slower, your energy was dwindling.

"Are we almost there?" You were whining at this point.

"Yeah, there should only be another hour." Billy was still as motivated as when you started. How, you didn't know.

You were groaning at his reply, displeasure setting in. For the next hour you were grumbling about how "this better be worth it" and how "you were going to plan the next vacation". The whole time Stu only chuckled next to you at your attitude.

"Don't worry it will all be worth it."

"You better be right."

After another half hour, thanks to you demanding a break, you saw a big clearing, cabins littered everywhere, and a big sign welcoming you to "Camp Silver Lake." The whole place seemed to be abandoned though.

"You are kidding." You looked at Billy who, like Stu, was grinning.

"Nope. We thought it would be fun to show you what you missed." Stu was so excited about the whole thing. It makes you question how he didn't spoil the surprise at all beforehand.

"So is this the one where you two went?" You were not going to ruin the fun. You actually believed this could be a great few days.

"Pf no. We were at a more … luxurious camp. Though they are all the same anyway." Billy was making his way to a cabin, assuming you two would follow him.

"The place hasn't been closed for long. Only one or two years. So everything should still be in a rather good condition." Opening the door and going in you could see he was right. But you still didn't think it would be a good idea to sleep in those beds. Sure they were infested with bugs.

"We will put the mattresses down and sleep in sleeping bags on them." Billy saw your sceptical look. You gave him a grateful smile.

"Enough talking. Last one in the lake is a stink bug!" Stu had already taken off his shirt running outside. Billy and you gave each other a look before darting out of the cabin. Laughing you took off your shirt while running, and somehow your shorts too. You almost fell over trying to undo your boots, giving a triumphant grunt as they slipped off. Billy wasn't far behind and Stu was a few feet in front of you struggling with his second boot. You were squealing, running past him.

"Who is going to be the stink bug now Macher?!" Laughing you didn't notice him being done with his shoe and running after you. He's almost got you but you somehow slipped from his grasp. He was laughing too and you two almost stumbled over each other. Billy used that to his advantage and ran past the two of you onto the dock and jumped into the lake. You and Stu weren't far behind jumping in.

Emerging from the depths of the lake you saw that Stu was dunking Billy, laughing.

You enjoyed the mild temperatures of the water on your skin, floating on your back a little. You didn't see Stu staring at your glistening skin that was revealed from the water. He was subtly liking his lips. You were effortlessly beautiful. Suddenly two arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you under. You were trashing and swam up again looking at a grinning Billy. You pushed at his chest, huffing but not being mad. When he only laughed you splashed water at him and into his open mouth. He was gagging and coughing.

"Serves you right." It was your turn to grin.

"Oh you will be sorry for that!"

Squealing and laughing, you swam away from him as fast as possible.

"Stu save me!" You were climbing onto his back.

"Oh of course princess." He swam away with you on his back, Billy hot on his tail.

The three of you spend the rest of the day like this, mostly in the water, laughing and just having a good time.

As the sun was slowly beginning to vanish behind the trees, Billy and Stu took care of gathering wood for a campfire, while you arranged the sleeping arrangement. You made sure you were going to sleep in between them. After getting dressed, you grabbed the food and went outside, seeing Stu and Billy fighting each other with sticks. You watched them with an amused look.

"You can't win, old man!" It was Billy talking to Stu, trying to hit him.

Stu blocked the attack, grinning.

"If you strike me down I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine!"

"You should not have come back!"

They continued fighting. After a little more of this you stepped into their view, distracting Stu. This was Billy's chance to strike and he did. Stu let out a painful hiss and went down. You knew your part and screamed a dramatic "No!"

That made Stu laugh full heartedly. Billy was chuckling. "Oscar worthy performance sweetheart." You bowed, laughing sweetly.

"Thank you. Thank you. You can get autographs later." As Stu got up and dusted off, Billy gave you a loving kiss, making you hum.

"Now can we please eat? I am starving."

"Of course."

They were going back to their task, you sitting down on a log watching them. The soft pushes and the banter they shared made you smile. The good mood stayed for the rest of the evening. After eating you guys talked and talked for hours. You were leaning with your back against Stu, the night colder than you thought it would be, but Stu kept you plenty warm. Especially after Billy denied you his sweater that he was wearing. Stu was more than glad to jump in and be your hero, making Billy roll his eyes playfully. Your eyes were closed and you were already half asleep. You couldn't really make out the words they were speaking, and you didn't really care. You knew you were safe with them.

"Do you wanna do it tonight?"

"No, she's exhausted, let's give her some rest. Tomorrow will be better."

You would have wondered what they were actually talking about but sleep pulled you in.

When you woke up you were in your sleeping bag, Billy and Stu snoring away on either side of you. Giving them both a soft kiss you carefully stood up, getting ready for the day. While you prepared breakfast a sleepy Billy emerged. His hair stood in all directions and his eyes were barely open. You offered him a cup of coffee which he took gratefully. You turned back to your task, Billy sipping his coffee and watching you like a hawk. His eyes moving over your every curve. The swell of your ass, resisting the urge to slap it like he so often does, playful or not. Your thighs which he loves to grab and squeeze and have his head between. He was getting worked up watching you be a cute little housewife in the middle of the woods. Wanting nothing more to bend you over and fuck you silly. He put his cup down and snug up behind you. Wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you in, a soft gasp leaving your lips. Billy nuzzled at your neck inhaling your smell. A low hum left him as the beguiling smell of you hit his nostrils. You closed your eyes, enjoying the soft moment between the two of you. He was softly squeezing your hip as he gently placed kisses over your neck. Your head lulled to the side as he bit your neck like he so often does.

"Billy…" his name was nothing more than a whisper on your lips. He only grunted in acknowledgement not parting from your neck though.

The moment was ruined when Stu emerged from the cabin with a more than shrill "Good morning!"

With a sigh Billy dropped his head onto your shoulder, you softly patted his cheek.

"Morning Stu." He gave you a big sloppy kiss, making you laugh as he slapped Billy's bubble butt. "Oi! Watch it!" Stu just grinned at him.

The three of you ate your breakfast, Stu filling the silence with unimportant chatter.

The rest of the day was spent exploring. You saw many squirrels and got excited every single time. How could you not with their cute little faces and their fluffy tail.

It was almost dark when you got back to the camp. You were exhausted and hungry. Stu took care of preparing something, meaning hot dogs. After scarfing down your meal you enjoyed a bit of quiet. Billy started to tell some horror stories, to give you more of the summer camp feeling. You appreciated it but some of the stories were really terrifying and you wondered where he got them from. The one about a haunted doll freaked you out the most. You were never a fan of dolls. Stu chimed in here and there because he could see how stiff you were and wanted to lighten your mood a little, but it didn't help much. That's why you stayed even closer to them while sleeping tonight. You didn't mind horror stories usually but something about being in the middle of the woods alone, only with your boyfriends made you more jumpy than usual.

It was no surprise that you woke up when you heard something outside, noticing that Stu was not next to you, Billy snoring on your other side. Stu was probably using the bathroom. But then you heard something again right outside the cabin. You jumped and woke Billy, who gave a grunt.

"Billy, wake up! I think something's outside!"

"That's probably just the wind. Go back to sleep." He kept mumbling, not even opening his eyes.

"It is not. It sounded like footsteps and groaning."

"That's probably just Stu trying to scare you."

"What if not? What if someone has already killed him and now he is coming for us?!"

"I am never telling you horror stories again before sleeping." You could hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Can we please just go check?"

"Can we please go check? Are you serious? Have you never watched a horror movie in your life? That's basically a death wish."

"I know! But I don't want our boyfriend to die!" You stood up and looked around for some kind of weapon. You found an old crowbar in the room and looked at Billy expectantly. He let out another groan and got up.

"If I die I will haunt your ass."

"I can live with that. Now let's go."

"Give me the crowbar first."

"No. Get your own weapon. This is mine." You held the crowbar close to your chest.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

Billy rolled his eyes and went outside without anything to protect himself. You were following close behind.

The both of you looked around carefully.

"Stu!" Calling for him as loud as you could.

"Shut up! Are you insane? This will lead the killer right to us!"

"I thought there wasn't one!" You whisper yelled.

"There probably isn't but you don't have to shout either!" Billy hissed.

The two of you kept sneaking around looking for Stu. That was until you bumped into something, assuming it was Billy you went to apologise but when you looked behind you, you saw a white mask with big black eyes and a wide open black mouth. You let out a loud scream as the person lunged at you with a knife missing you only by a few inches as you ran away.

"Billy!" You were running for your life, looking behind you to see if the killer was chasing you, but he was gone. Frantically you were looking for Billy. Turning around the corner you bumped into him, clinging to him.

"There's a killer! There's a killer here! We need to find Stu and leave!"

Billy looked at you with big eyes and nodded, taking the crowbar, that you've completely forgotten about, from your hand. His eyes widened when he saw the masked killer show up behind you. As quickly as he could he pushed you behind him and went to hit the killer with his weapon. But the guy wasn't stupid and saw Billy's attack coming, taking a hold of the crowbar. Billy tried to get him to loosen his grip but there was no chance. The killer pulled Billy closer and stabbed him into his stomach. You led out a scream as you heard Billy groan. The killer then went on to stab Billy multiple times. Over and over again. You started to cry. Billy's legs gave out and he fell to the ground. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, tears streaming down your face.

You looked back at the killer who was looking at you, wiping his knife off of Billy's blood with one hand. Then he came stalking over to you. Your legs felt like jelly as you stumbled back, your back hitting the cabin. The killer was right in front of you, lifting his knife to strike you down too, just like he did with Billy. You closed your eyes and looked to the side. But after waiting several moments nothing happened. So you opened your eyes only for them to widen. The mask was lifted and sat atop of Stu's head.

"Stu?" Your voice was shaking.

"Surprise princess." He was grinning.

Coming back to your senses you started pushing him. "What the fuck is wrong with you Stu?! Are you insane?! You killed Billy!"

Just as you said that Billy jumped out from behind Stu, scaring you half to death. You didn't understand a single thing. His shirt was stained with his blood but he looked as alive as ever wearing the same grin that Stu wore.

"How are you alive?" You felt stupid asking him that.

Billy licked some 'blood' off of his fingers.

"Corn Syrup. Same stuff they used as pig's blood in Carrie."

You were in utter disbelief.

"Are you two fucking kidding me?! I thought you were dead! I was scared for my life! I thought I was going to die!"

"Awww babes we are sorry. But a prank is always played during summer camp." Stu got a sheepish look.

"That was some fucking prank Stu!" You were getting more angry by the second.

They gave each other a look. Pushing past the two you stormed back to your cabin. The two boys are hot on your heels.

"Sweetheart, come on, it was just a prank." But you didn't respond to Billy, way too furious.

"Don't be mad at us. We love you."

"If you'd love me you wouldn't have done this fucked up shit."

"Ok ok we are sorry ok?" Billy got a hold of your wrist making you stop. He turned you around putting his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. "We really are sorry."

"I don't know if I believe you. I was so scared. I thought I lost you." Tears were welling up in your eyes at the image of Billy laying in his own blood. Dead. Stu's head popped up over Billy's shoulder. Giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Please forgive us. We swear we will never do that again."

"You better not."

"So are we forgiven?" They looked at you hopeful.

"Ask me again tomorrow…" With that you went into the cabin and back into your sleeping bag. You laid there for a while, eyes closed. Stu and Billy took a little while to come inside. You could hear them talking outside. You pretended to sleep when they came in, laying down beside you. They didn't know if you wanted to be close to them so they refrained from their usual cuddly positions. You didn't fall asleep until dawn, when exhaustion finally took you over.

You don't know how long you've been sleeping for but a very pleasurable feeling between your legs was waking you from your slumber. A soft moan left your lips and you fluttered your eyes open. Between your legs you could make out a tuft of blonde curls. Stu was eating you out lazily and softly. So different from his usual pace. Your hand crept into his hair pulling softly but it only made him release your clit from between his lips.

"Good morning princess." He gave you a soft kiss.

"Morning Stu. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I am apologising." He grinned at you and went back to work, making you arch your back softly.

"If this is the apology for last night you will have to do much better."

"Oh princess, this is only the start. We plan to properly apologise, don't you worry. If you let us of course." Billy spoke up beside you. You looked at him, nodding.

"Of course." Realising that they took off your clothes completely. Billy was playing with your boobs.

Stu continued to play your pussy like he so often did before. Two of his fingers already buried deep inside you, fucking you open for them both. His lips were wrapped around your clit, the tip of his tongue flipping your little bud of nerves in his mouth. He loved being messy even when things were going slower than normal.

Billy's lips wrapped around one of your nipples, his teeth gazing softly. Your other hand that wasn't in Stu's hair went into Billy's, pulling them both closer to you. It was so easy to forgive them like this but you wouldn't tell them that. Stu slowly added a third finger, scissoring them to fuck you more, curling them to find your gspot. He was so attune with your body, that it didn't take him long to find the spot that made your toes curl and an almost pornographic moan to leave your lips. Billy pulled at your nipple with his lips, making you clench around Stu's fingers. When you looked down you saw Stu was humping the ground while eating you out. This puts a lazy grin on your face.

"Stu… Billy please." You wanted them both desperately.

"What do you want, pretty girl?" Billy looked at you with his intense eyes. Stu's mouth never leaving your wet cunt as he looked up at the both of you.

"Need you. Need you both. Please." You were begging a little. But you truly needed to be filled by them.

"Where do you need us?" Stu pulled at your clit letting it pop out of his mouth.

"Inside me. Need you both inside of me. Please." You were looking at them pleadingly.

"Think you can handle us both?" Stu asked teasingly. You nodded quickly. Stu gave your dripping pussy another kiss before standing up and undressing. Billy doing the same. You kept staring at them both. The both of them started to make out, Billy pulling Stu closer, biting his lip harshly. They got lost in their little make out session. You cleared your throat.

"I thought this was my apology here."

They parted and looked at you, both grinning.

"Of course."

"Sorry sweetheart we got a little lost." Billy came over to you first, laying down beside you and pulling you on top of him, your boobs pressed against his chest. He started to kiss you passionately as he entered you. You moaned against his lips. Taking the opportunity Billy slipped his tongue into your mouth playing with your own. He started to thrust into you. Slow but hard. Deliberately. Making you feel every inch of him. Your gummy walls stretch around him. Billy continued his thrusting for a moment before he stopped.

Stu got into position behind you. Getting ready to push into your tight cunt too. Slowly and carefully he pushed in. Your eyes squeezed shut, the stretch almost unbearable. Both Billy and Stu groaned at the feeling, both being in your tight cunt while having their dicks rub together at the same time. They gave you time to adjust to being filled to the brim. You were panting. Billy gave you a soft kiss.

"Are you ok?"

You nodded. "Yeah I'm good."

They both started to move slowly. Working in tandem. You couldn't keep your moans in. It felt so good. How they knew how to play your body. Stu was gripping your hips so hard, definitely leaving bruises. Your eyebrows were knit together. Billy was groaning underneath you, Stu moaning behind you.

The slick sound of your juices mixing with your guys' moans. It was so lewd but it turned you on all the more. Billy kissed you again, sloppily. He kept sucking on your tongue. When he let go of your tongue you felt Stu leaning over your back, down, his head next to yours. He gave you a particular hard thrust making you scream in pleasure. Stu and Billy kissed again, just as sloppily as you two did. You were moving against Billy with every hard thrust.

Somehow they managed to roll around, a squeal leaving your lips. Stu now under you. Your back on his chest, Billy on top of you. Billy gave your tits a hard squeez, now more in control of his thrusts. You felt like a rag doll how they handled you, and you loved every second of it.

Billy laid a few quick slaps to your tits making you moan loudly. Your head fell onto Stu's shoulder. One of his hands wrapped around your throat.

"You looked so cute being all scared last night. Really wanted to fuck you there." Stu's voice was deep, laced with lust. You whimpered at his words, his hand squeezing around your throat, cutting off the bloodstream, slowly becoming lightheaded. It only added to your pleasure.

Billy's thumb gazed over the little scars you had on your hips, where you let them carve in their initials, while angling his hips a little differently. His thrusts only became harder.

"You know we would never let anything happen to you princess." Billy's voice was equally as deep as Stu's. The same ounce of lust in them.

"You are ours. And we protect what's ours."

You looked at him with glossy eyes, the pleasure almost too much. They fluttered close when Stu's other hand went between your body's and he started to rub your clit deliberately. You didn't keep your eyes closed for long, because Billy took hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Do you understand sweetheart?"

You nodded dumbly, way too fucked out.

"Say it."

Stu's hand left your throat making you take in a deep breath, your head clearing up a little. Stu's thrusts got faster, your eyes rolling back. Billy gripped your cheeks harder, matching his thrusts into your soaking pussy.

"Say. It." His words were harsh, his thrusts emphasised his words, but you knew it was because he wanted his anwer.

"I'm yours. I'm all your Billy, Stu. Only yours." Your words were slurred. Partially from pleasure and partially from still having your cheeks pressed together.

"And?"

"You protect what's yours. You protect me." You were so close. But you knew better than to come without permission even if this was meant as your apology.

"And we take such good care of you don't we?"

You nodded, tears now streaming down your face all from the pleasure of their cocks inside of you and Stu's relentless pace on your clit.

"You take such good care of me."

"Good girl. Isn't she Stu?" Billy looked a little behind you, directly at Stu who, in return, gave him a shit eating grin.

"Oh she is the best girl. Aren't you, pretty thing?" He gave your cheek, that Billy finally released from his grip, an exaggerated kiss.

Billy's hand wrapped around your throat now making you gasp. Both their pace is becoming faster. Sloppier. Stu gave your nipples a hard pinch making you sob in pleasure. You were clenching around them so hard trying not to come without their permission.

"Aw I think she is close Stu."

"Mh you think we should let her come?"

"I don't know. What do you think sweetheart? Do you think you should come?" Both their voices were teasing, condescending even. Billy gave your throat a squeez after you didn't answer immediately.

"Please."

"Please what?" Billy's tone got harsher.

"Lemme come…" Your voice was hoarse from the moaning and screaming.

Billy looked at Stu again.

"You think we should let her?"

"I don't know man. Seems like she doesn't really want to."

"Yeah I was thinking the same thing. But it is our apology after all."

"You are right. I think we should give her that."

They talked about you like you weren't even there. It should be embarrassing but it only got you more wet.

"Go ahead doll. Come for us."

"Yeah, soak us in your juices."

It only took a few short moments of their hard, precise thrusts, Stu's thumb rubbing your clit the right way and Billy squeezing your throats not too tight, for you to finally come. It was earth shattering. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably and your eyes rolled back so far into your skull, your ears started ringing. You were clenching so hard around Billy and Stu that it didn't take them long to come right after you. Both groaning in unison, shooting their seed right into you without a care. They rode out their orgasms before Billy collapsed on top of you. You weren't completely back to your senses yet.

You didn't really notice how they carefully slipped out of you, some of their joined load dripping out of you. Your thighs slick with your own arousal.

Billy took a good look at your dripping pussy.

"Damn. Still the most pretty pussy even all fucked out."

You only came back to reality when the both of them started to clean you up, already dressed again after cleaning up themselves.

"You back with us sweetheart?" Billy's voice had nothing of the harshness from earlier.

"Yeah. That was mind-blowing. We should do this more often." Your voice was still hoarse but you kept smiling at them, utterly satisfied.

"Sure thing, pretty girl."

"So does this mean we are forgiven?" Stu plopped down next to you, offering you something to drink. You thankfully took it and gulped it down.

"Mh I will consider forgiving you after some more mind-blowing orgasms."

You gave them a cheeky smile.

They grinned at you in return.

"That can be arranged."

They were on you again in seconds. You didn't leave the cabin the whole day. They really made you forgive them wholeheartedly. To be fair though you think there wasn't much of your brain left after they fucked you stupif all day

#billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher x you #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #bea's writing #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut

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mirnilop · 8 months

Text

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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stormyjisung · 8 months

Text

"So when did you know it was love?"

Members. Skz hyung line (+hyunjin)

Synopsis. Asking them about the time when they'd fallen for you entirely

A/n. I woke up missing ji and decided to write something for skiz, it's been a long time since I've written for them anyway. I was watching a movie yesterday (more like analysing the poster) and the tagline said, 'so when do you know it's love?' And my writer brain went wee woo 🚨.

Bang chan

"so when did you know it was love?"

The question caught chan off guard, eyes shifting from his phone to your face, eyebrows quirked up in amusement, "where's this coming from?"

Rolling onto your stomach you groaned, "I don't know, chan, it just randomly popped up"

A bubble of laughter left his lips, "well to answer your question, I think it was our last semester at uni? I don't really remember the setting love, but I do remember that I was having a bad day. That paired with a raging downpour pushed me over the edge and I called you, crying, definitely not one of my best moments" chan paused to shake his head, "you helped calm me down and said, 'I'll be right there' and before I could ask what you meant you hung up"

"And before I knew it, you turned up at the library soaked to the bone. You handed me my umbrella and gave me the biggest, warmest hug someone had ever given me, despite the fact that you were freezing,

We'd already been dating for a few months, and you'd stolen my heart countless amount of times but it was at that moment I knew you'd stolen my heart from me forever"

Your cheeks felt hot, chan had always been a man of many words but to hear him voice out the moment he fell in love with you word by word felt nothing short of ethereal.

"But I do wonder, why did you turn up looking like a wet dog when you had an umbrella with you?"

Shrieks of embarrassment and laughter filled the atmosphere, love seeping into your bones even deeper.

Minho

"when did you know it was love?"

You saw minho's hand pause midway while petting dori, "is this one of those tiktok thingies where go around asking your partner if they'd love you if you were a worm?"

"What- no! I was genuinely curious" you whined as minho let dori down, placing a finger on his chin he pondered.

"Honestly?"

"Yeah!" You leaned forward excitedly.

"It was that time when you messed up a party's dress code and showed up wearing a chicken onesie."

"Fuck off" you replied, kicking a pillow at his face as he cackled, "No but how does one mess up that bad?"

Faux disappointment seeped into your features causing minho to break, "okay fine. But you dare not make fun of me or I'll set birds loose on you"

"You wouldn't dare" you gasped, "try me" Came his reply.

"It was late September, when we'd just been dating for a few months and when my self confidence was at an all time low. I remember you'd been begging me to show you one of my choreos until I finally agreed."

"Oh! I do remember it, and when the day arrived you made every excuse under the sun to not show me the choreography!"

"Yeah, because I've always been a little bit of a workaholic and a perfectionist and all the girls I've dated before would ask me to stop working or 'take a break',

nothing wrong with their concern but it just got tiring since I geninunely loved dancing, but then that day when I showed you my choreography, you sat there starry eyed; watching my moves like a hawk and your mouth left partially open as if me dancing was the single most enchanting thing you'd ever seen."

"It was!" you replied in a heartbeat, not missing the way his ears turned red instantaneously, "-anyway, then I told you I wanted to work some more on the choreography before I could come home and you said 'well, let's work together!' And started giving me all these ideas even when you had two left feet yourself"

You would've retorted with a 'hey!' Had it not been the soft gaze in his eyes. You knew minho loved you, it showed in the way he'd tone down his teasing once in a while and remind you that he still loved you.

But after this, you doubt any insecurity would ever cross your mind.

Changbin

"when did you know it was love, bin?"

Changbin almost dropped the plate he was holding, caught utterly off guard by a question he most certainly had the answer to yet didn't trust his words enough, "what do you mean, babe?"

"When did you realize that you were in love with me?"

"I fall for you every day." He deadpanned

"Yeah- but, like, when was the first time?" you asked flustered by his prompt reply.

"You're cute" He giggled, ruffling your hair as his eyes shone with admiration, "I think it was when we had our first serious disagreement? The first time the rose colored glasses shattered and we could see ourselves for who we truly were"

"You said something along the lines of, 'I'd understand if you left right now' and it was the first time in my twenty one years of life that I'd experienced true heartbreak. And it was also the moment when I realized no matter how many fights we had or will inevitably have in the future, I'd never want to walk out on you or us"

He ended his little monologue by peppering sweet butterfly kisses on your forehead, "I'll always love you" He whispered between the kisses.

The orange hues of the setting sun illuminated the two soul mates in that room who failed to realize that their souls were always meant to love each other, maybe the setting sun knew their story for it smiled as it set across the horizon.

Hyunjin

"when did you know it was love?" You asked hyunjin as he raked his fingers through your hair gently, a low hum escaping him

"When did I know I'd fallen for you entirely?" He confirmed to which you gently nodded your head, the serene atmosphere felt unreal with you laying on his chest and him alternating between patting your head and softly brushing your hair

"That's a question that doesn't really have a definite answer, love"

You allowed a beat of silence to pass by before you spoke up, "what do you mean?"

"Falling in love with you wasn't a spur of the moment... it was rather an entire journey.

From the moment we met to right now, it's been one hell of a ride. We've seen seasons, weather and people change. We've seen each other change for the better, I've see you through your good, your bad and your ugly" He paused to let his eyes roam all over your face as if memorizing every miniscule detail

"But despite all of that, I wanted you. I wanted you every waking moment of my life, I wanted you on the days you were too sad to even get up, I wanted you on the days you were cranky and moody, I wanted you on the days you'd blow up on me, I wanted you, I want you.

And when you want someone like that, above their flaws, imperfections and blemishes I think it's fair enough to declare it as love"

Hyunjin was always a romantic, never failing to make you feel loved and cherished and even after years of dating him, he still managed to take your breath away. He talked about loving you as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, as if loving you was easy.

And that terrified you because hyunjin was just as easy to fall for, if not more.

Reblog to show your appreciation !

I love how I post once a week but am chronically online, tee hee.

#🌙. nyx !#skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz changbin #skz bang chan #skz minho #skz hyunjin #skiz.archives.#stray kids imagines

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lfcslut · 1 year

Text

trust

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

summary: it's 2am. kylian is calling and calling but you aren't picking up. he lets his anxiety get the better of him. based on this request.

words: 1.6k

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol

author's note: this was so fun to write! i love writing kylian so much. hope you all enjoy :)

"Mon amour, where are you? Call me back. I'm worried."

This was perhaps the twelfth voicemail Kylian had left you that night. It was well past 2AM. You had gone out to celebrate the end of finals with some of your friends. Kylian had encouraged you to go, knowing how hard you had worked this semester. He knew and loved all of your friends from school, and there had never been any reason for him to not trust you. You had told Kylian that you would be home by midnight and to not wait up for you. Well, midnight had turned into 1AM, which had turned into 2AM, and you were nowhere to be found. You weren't answering his text messages and your calls were going straight to voicemail.

"Dammit," Kylian muttered to himself when his thirteenth call went to voicemail. He told himself not to panic. Your phone was always dying while you were out, no matter how many times Kylian told you to make sure it was fully charged before leaving the house. Yet, as the minutes ticked on, and Kylian lay wide awake in bed, unable to fall asleep without you next to him, the what ifs and worst case scenarios crept into his mind. What if you had gotten into an accident on your way home? What if you had been kidnapped by a stranger at the club? What if you had taken this opportunity to leave him for someone else? Kylian was not typically the anxious type, but he felt his muscles tense up and his heart start to beat faster as his mind ran through all of the possibilities.

Punctuality had never been your strong suit, he thought to himself. Soon after the two of you started dating, he learned that if you told him you would be there at a certain time, you actually meant that you would be there about thirty minutes after that. He had affectionally started teasing that you had your own standard time. You were always in your own timezone, in your own world, playing by your own rules.

Tonight was different, though. Even on your worst days, you had never been more than two hours late without at least a phone call. He thought about going out and looking for you, but he realized that you hadn't even told him which club you were going to. He could drive around Paris, scouring the streets for you, calling out your name like you were a lost pet - maybe even putting up missing signs (Have you seen this girl? Report all sightings by calling this number. Do not run after her - she doesn't like to be chased. Trust me, I would know) - but he knew it would be useless. Kylian finally sat up in bed and decided to call some of your friends who he knew you had gone out with. No answer. The lump in his throat grew ten times bigger. What if you weren't where you said you would be? This thought had never, ever crossed his mind before. Trust was such an important part of your relationship that it had never come into question in the four years you had been together. He never had any reason not to fully trust you, and he knew you felt the same about him. But in the wee hours of the morning, the insecurities Kylian never knew he had came crawling out into the open.

3:43. That was the time on the bedside clock when Kylian heard the security system go off downstairs. He heard you fumble as you struggled to remember the code to turn the alarm off. His exhaustion had finally gotten the best of him and he had dozed off a few minutes ago. He heard the stair boards creak as someone walked up the stairs. Was it finally you?

"Kyky!"

He knew instantly that you were drunk. Your words were slurred and you were stumbling around in the dark, barely able to keep your own body upright. Kylian hurriedly stood up, worried that you would fall, and helped you to your side of the bed. As soon as you sat down, you wrapped your arms around him.

"Baaaaby, I missed you 'smuch," you said, as you placed sloppy kisses all over him. Your breath smelling of vodka and cigarettes.

"Y/N, stop," Kylian said, pulling away from you. You looked up at him, surprised by his sudden coldness. "Where were you? I've been calling you like crazy."

"'m sorry, my phone died."

Kylian stood up from the bed and started pacing the bedroom, arms folded across his chest. His eyes were tracking the floor.

"I even called your friends and no one answered! Do you know how fucking worried I was?"

The harshness in his tone made you sober up quickly. "Ky, I'm so sorry, we were all drunk out of our minds."

"You said you would be back by midnight, it's almost fucking four am!" He raised his voice at you, which made you flinch.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Who were you with? You smell like cigarettes and I know you don't smoke." Kylian was standing dead in his tracks now. You didn't recognize the look in his eyes - a mixture of sheer exhaustion and absolute rage.

"People around me in the club were smoking."

"Bullshit. Who is he?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to what he was talking about. "What?"

"I said, who is he? What's his name?"

"Ky, you're being insane right now."

"I never thought you would hurt me like this, Y/N. I thought we were going to get married, I thought it was going to be us until the end."

"Ky, stop it! Do you really think I would cheat on you?"

"I don't know, where were you? Why are you four hours late and drunk out of your mind?"

You stared at him for a minute. You couldn't believe he was being serious right now. Yes, you were late and probably should have called, but you didn't think that your actions had warranted this kind of a response. You hesitated, half wondering if you should just leave and spend the night with a friend, before finally taking out your phone and plugging it into the charger.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer for a moment, sitting down on the bed and facing away from him. You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "Showing you proof," you said quietly. "Something I never thought I would have to do."

The two of you sat in silence, backs facing away from each other, for a moment while your phone began to start up again. After a minute, you pulled up your camera roll and tossed your phone towards Kylian, not even bothering to look at him. Kylian picked up the phone and began scrolling through all of the countless photos that you and your friends had taken that night. There were videos of you taking shots, photos of you posing in the bathroom with your girlfriends, clips of all of you dancing together, not a single man in sight.

"Oh," was all Kylian could say as he stared down at the phone, shame swelling up inside of him as he realized just how wrong he was.

"Happy now?"

"Cherie, I'm sorry."

"Forget it. I thought we were never going to do this, Kylian. I thought that no matter what happened, we were going to at the very least always trust each other." You stood up, almost completely sober by this point. "Now we don't even have that." You walked towards the bathroom, taking off your dress as you did so. Kylian followed behind you.

"I'm so, so sorry. I never should have said those things. I was just so worried."

"Yeah, and I know I should have called, but that doesn't give you the right to accuse me of cheating." You were standing in front of the mirror in your underwear while Kylian was behind you. You refused to look at him, instead searching around for your makeup wipes, hoping that Kylian wouldn't notice the wetness that had begun to form in your eyes.

"Please," Kylian pleaded, his voice cracking softly as he came up behind you and put his arms around your waist. "Forgive me, amour. I don't know what got into me. It'll never happen again."

To your surprise, you didn't push him away, though you continued to refuse to meet eyes, focusing instead on removing your makeup. "I would never in a million years accuse you of cheating on me."

"I know, baby, I know." Kylian kissed you on the cheek from behind. He wiped away the single tear that was falling from your eye. "No crying, princesse, please."

The two of you stood there for a few moments as Kylian rested his head on your shoulder, arms still wrapped around your waist, and you continued to remove your makeup. Your silence conveyed more than you could say in that moment - mostly, it said, I accept your apology.

After you had brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, Kylian helped you into bed and tucked you in like he normally did every night, planting a kiss on both of your cheeks. He then got into bed himself and took you into his arms. "I love you so much, princesse."

"I love you too, Ky," you whispered back to him.

"Sweet dreams, amour."

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe drabble #kylian mbappe imagine #football fanfic #football fanfiction #football fic #football imagine #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer imagine

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alecscudder1987 · 9 months

Text

ive just had a thought. see ive been joking as much as the next person about the ineffable beurocracy getting their shit together after 3 dates while it took aziraphale and crowley since literally before time was invented BUT it's quite literally just privilege.

you saw the shot where aziraphale grabs crowley's shoulder just after beelzebub and gabriel declare their love--this level of visibility is unprecedented, and something he and crowley have never been able to afford. while they (and we) might have softened to not-gabriel throughout the season, the second gabriel is gabriel again, he uses his position and leaddrship weight as archangel to fuck right off with his beloved. which, good for him.

but to aziraphale and crowley, this is fucking bonkers information. they spent their entire existences compromising on their relationship in order to not...be compromised. and gabriel just up and speed-runs dating the enemy because the worst consequence he faces is getting fired. gabriel and beelzebub never face consequences for their relationship, so of course it goes off without a hitch. no one looking over your shoulder because you're the guy looking over everyone's shoulder.

while im thankful they fucked off to alpha centuri so i don't ever have to see gabriel's smug face again, i do wonder if the "going off together" is really the good relationship A & C ought to model. if it's a happy foil to miserable wee morag and her girlfriend from the minisodes, it's still not what i believe crowley and aziraphale are going to do.

they've spent all of time becoming increasingly codependent, and while that's fun and all for a while, crowley and aziraphale really need their little human mundanities. going on walks. getting dinner. going for a drive to blow off steam. their path is getting distinctly more human-looking, and i think someday they're going to have to reckon with the idea of letting other people into their lives.

to bring it back to my first point, i've just been thinking about WHY crowley and aziraphale are Like That, when we've been presented with a new couple who most certainly isn't, and it made me think about it in terms of power. they have leverage, but they built it for themselves by learning everything about earth their superiors didn't know, getting a leg up anywhere they can. gabriel and beezlebub don't need a leg up. they have it. they're stepping on your chest and brushing dust from their costs as you try to climb past the first stone.

you could also look at it like queer versus straight relationships. queer relationships are often by circumstance somewhat secretive and full of codes and longing glances and not-talking-about-your-feelings BECAUSE it might get you into trouble. straight relationships often don't have this problem (though they might have others relating to other intersecting & marginalized identities) so they can get straight away into the declaring it part.

TL;DR beezlebub and gabriel got hitched immidiately while it took crowley and aziraphale all of time to kiss because the ineffable beaurocracy has about a million times more power and a billion times less consequences for getting caught about it than the ineffable husbands do.

#holy shit this got long i meant for it to be like 3 sentences maximum #this fandom does things to my brain and it is rapidly waking the special interest back up #i literally am already writing a fic i feel insane #good omens #go spoilers #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy #good omens meta #james jabbers

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theemporium · 10 months

Note

james potter x (sirius' younger sister) reader where he knows about it but they love making his life miserable by always being on top of each other or doing cute couple things and making out whenever he enters the room (bonus point if they use the map to make sure he's coming in)

thank you for requesting!🖤

If there was one thing you learnt befriending the marauders, it was to love a good prank.

From small, stupid pranks that would make you giggle to long haul ones that made you laugh until your stomach had stitches, you loved a prank. You loved being a part of them. You loved planning them. You loved having a group of friends who were able to be so carefree and unbothered around each other, healthy enough to prank each other regularly and prank others together.

However, what you never accounted for was that these silly little pranks would lead you to fall in love with someone. And for that someone to be your brother’s best friend.

Despite what Sirius thought, your relationship with James Potter was not an ongoing prank. It was real, realer than any relationship you had ever had before. You loved him and he downright adored you like you were the best thing on this Earth, and that was just something Sirius would have to get used to.

Not that you and James didn’t have your fun with your brother’s overdramatic, theatrical reactions.

It had been subtle things to wind him up at first.

Like sitting beside each other during meals with James’ arm around your shoulder and sometimes feeding each other little bites until Sirius would eventually try and wiggle his way to sit between the two of you.

Like wearing James’ jersey for quidditch games rather than his and watching as the boy claimed it a betrayal of the highest order that his sister had switched sides.

Like casually sitting on James’ lap when the group are hanging around the common room, even when there are seats free, because you two like to cuddle up on the armchair with a blanket thrown over your laps whilst Sirius yells for no funny business.

Sometimes, you’re prepared for it and you like to toy with your brother. After showing you the marauders map, it wasn’t rare for you and James to just set up wee scenarios when you knew your brother would walk in.

But sometimes, it was just purely by accident that Sirius would walk in but that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of it.

“It’s too fucking hot,” you groaned as you threw your body down onto your boyfriend’s bed, only to groan when the feeling of the sheets against your sweaty skin was anything but satisfying.

“You say this every time we get a heatwave after complaining how we have no good weather up here,” James mused as he rummaged through his chest for a shirt.

“You’re meant to be on my side, Potter,” you grumbled, lifting your head to glare at him.

“My mistake,” he said, abandoning his search as he began to crawl over towards you until his hands were pressed against either side of your head and his face was hovering above yours. “You are always right, my love, always.”

Your lips twitched. “Better?”

“Not enough?” James let out a heavy sigh before a grin spread across his face. “Well, that just won’t do.”

Before you could complain any further, James was dipping his head down to press his lips against yours. You smiled against his mouth, your arms wounding around his neck to pull him a little closer as his tongue teased yours.

“You’re too warm,” you murmured between kisses, your eyes falling shut as he began to trail soft pecks along your jaw. “Why are you a bloody heater?”

“You love it during winter,” he mused before lifting his head, his eyes sparkling with an idea you knew would make your thighs clench. “Why don’t we sneak off to the lake? The water will be cold and—”

“MY FUCKING EYES!”

Both of you whipped your heads around to find Sirius standing in the doorway, blanching and gagging as he recoiled and covered his eyes. He let out a dramatic cry, something quite like a garbled sound of discontent.

“Fucking hell, Pads, got some lungs on you there,” James joked, clearly unbothered by the fact he had just walked in on you two. He could have seen much worse.

“What is wrong with you both?!” Sirius yelled, finally opening his eyes to look at you two between narrowed eyes. “Lock the fucking door!”

There was a pause.

“Actually no, you shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place!” He huffed out before pointing at you. “You shouldn’t even be here, full stop.”

You rolled your eyes at your older brother. “Blah, blah, blah.”

“Calm your tits, Pads,” James muttered before he pulled himself off the bed, taking your hand and helping you up too. “We were leaving anyways.”

Sirius frowned a little. “Good—”

“Your sister has a lil’ one piece she wants to show me—”

“PRONGS!”

“It’s her favourite swimming costume,” James said with an innocent smile. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“You’re evil,” Sirius said with his lips turned downwards. “Both of you. I’m telling Euphemia about this.”

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the-californicationist · 3 months

Text

Good Fences (Fluffuary #13)

FEB13: Night Out

“Did she book out the whole place, then?” John asked, pulling his pearl buttons through their starched holes as he dressed into his shirt.

“Yep, very fancy,” you told him, fixing his tie and feeling the silk slip through your manicured fingers.

Your best friend, Cana, had just graduated from her master’s program, and she had invited you to her graduation party. When you mentioned that you were housing three additional British soldiers, she had extended the invitation to include them most enthusiastically.

The boys had dressed up nice. Cana had indeed booked out an entire rooftop bar, and as a woman who liked to party, she was really pulling out all the stops tonight.

She was dressed all in black, surrounded by her classmates and a few of your mutual friends, but when she saw you coming through the doors with your literal army squad, she made a bee-line straight for you. Her bejeweled arms were spread wide, her perfectly set curls bounced as she ran, flinging herself into your arms and squealing her hellos.

“Cana!” You laughed, holding her as she spun around you with glee, “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

“Goddamn, babe. Me too,” she huffed, exasperated and sarcastically funny.

You watched her roll her eyes and smile,

“Thank fuck grad school is done. Now, introduce me! You brought dinner, I see.”

“Oh, God, Cana. You can’t say that!” You protested.

But, Kyle heard her comment and brushed you aside, reaching for her hand and taking it in his,

“Let the woman speak, babes. She looks hungry.”

Cana giggled, high pitched and joyful, letting Kyle lead her back to her table. You looked at John and mouthed an apology.

“Dinnae fash, bonnie. Gaz is in his own version of heaven,” Johnny chuckled, “He never could turn down a curvy lass.”

“She’s a wild one, but I love her,” you explained, trying to dismiss your friend’s audacious behavior.

“She’s grand, love. Let me buy you a drink,” John wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you in to his body. His soft clothes crumpled against your side, and you noticed John’s palm sliding lower and lower down your back.

“Speaking of blokes in heaven,” Simon quipped, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He cast a long gaze at his captain, and you thought you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Aye,” John puffed up a little, defensively, “And what of it?”

“Heaven looks good on you, Cap’n,” Johnny clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the bar, “You were sayin’ somethin’ about a wee drink?”

You talked and drank and laughed all night with John and his friends. Cana couldn’t keep her hands off of Kyle, and he seemed to be loving every moment of it. By the end of the evening, your feet were aching, but you had heard story after story of John being the hero and even more stories of him being the victim of his men’s pranks. They seemed to have an incredible bond together that made you admire John even more.

“Are you havin’ fun tonight, love?” John asked, whispering in your ear, letting the whiskers of his beard tickle your neck and sensitive lobe as he did.

You turned your head to him, smiling, whispering just as low,

“Yes, I am. But, I can’t stop staring at you in that suit.”

“And you in that dress. Mmm…” John ran a long finger up your thigh, pushing the dress’s hem higher and higher until it was truly scandalous.

“Maybe you should take me home,” you suggested, your eyes full of lust, “So, you can take it off.”

“Grab your purse. Now.”

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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goddessofmischief · 6 months

Note

Hey, thanks for tagging :) I am 34, so the "old men" are not so old to me and quite frankly, watching Shanks, Buggy and Mihawk in OPLA is feeling like coming home to old friends back from 20 years ago. (I was crushing on Shanks and Buggy so much...😅) So I thought, maybe you could write something where fem!reader already knows them and has a soft spot for each of them, since back when they were flirting and making fun when they were young. Now as adults they meet again and the chemistry is still there.

I remember one of my stories from back then. I was jealous of mermaids, because all the pirates got stupid once they're around, and a drunk Shanks said: "nah, you wouldn't like to be one; You'd be missing slamming doors and Buggy would drown on daily basis just to say hi-." Both Buggy and Reader: "shut up! So not true!". Just like young stupids are... :)

Anyways, thanks for your writing and I can't wait to read more about the "get-shit-done"-squad Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy

— MERMAIDS (YOUNG SHANKS X READER, YOUNG BUGGY X READER)

A/N: Hope this is alright: since your formal request was so in line with what the theme of the series will be anyway, I used the excerpt of your line as basis for this particular fic. All credit of course goes to you for coming up with the lines and the idea. On a personal note, I just want to say how much I respect that you were an OG fic writer and still have interest in and love for these characters. Welcome home.

...

You would have believed that you had been at sea for years, until Buggy reminded you that it had only been weeks.

Granted, this is how he reminded you:

"It's been wee-eks," Buggy whined, stretching out on his hammock. Shanks was collapsed against the wall, fingers knotted together, eyes not really focused on any particular place.

And you? You were lying on the floor, gazing up at the wooden ceiling, wondering if it would be a good idea to leave the cabin and see the stars.

Being on the ship for weeks was highly irregular for your crew. Great captain he was, Roger knew he could only keep this ragtag group sane if they stepped onto shore and ate an orange every once in awhile. This concern was triply inflated by the fact that he had three young adults onboard who became very antsy if they had to stay in one place for too long. Your patience certainly rivaled Buggy's or even Shanks', but even you had your limit, and you had met it long ago.

The ship would have planned to make port nearly a week before, but the World Government was closer to finding you than ever. It was simply too dangerous.

You soon learned how your friends reacted to a situation such as this. Shanks had retreated mostly into silence, with exception of the odd joke or attempt at conversation, and Buggy had decided he blamed you both somehow for this situation and that any words exchanged with either of you would only be of the complaining nature.

"I know, Bugs," said Shanks, and you were surprised to hear him answer Buggy's complaint. You exchanged glances with him, then turned back to Buggy.

"Let's go outside, yeah?" you suggested. "Do something fun."

"Everyone's outside," Buggy complained. "They've been yelling over something for hours."

"And you didn't think that was important to mention, Bugs?" Shanks asked, irritably. Buggy shrugged.

...

The thing that had sparked such interest in the crew was simply that, as your ship had sailed very far into the deepest waters, much farther than usual, you had sailed into a home of mermaids. Extremely dangerous, and the crew knew it.

It did not negate their interest whatsoever, though.

Pirates get stupid when mermaids are around. It is a core trait of pirates and no less than a sacred tenet of piracy itself. More than a few decent men have been seduced to the sea by the very concept of mermaids, and to that end, the idea of finding one.

Shanks and Buggy were no exception.

You had never really taken the care to notice how they behaved with girls. Their flirting was of no interest to you, and so you didn't bother to surveil it. But it came to your attention now that they had terribly different styles: namely, that Buggy was mostly content to sit and watch from the edge of the deck, and Shanks was more interested in yelling, waving, and nearly falling off the boat.

Granted, by this time, alcohol had become involved, and all bets were off.

Despite all the excitement, the first in weeks, Shanks had begun to notice how quiet you'd become. He approached you, somewhat cautiously, hoping you wouldn't react with a retort or a threat.

"You okay?"

You nodded, staring at the drink you held.

"You sure?"

You shrugged, whispering something under your breath that Shanks struggled to hear.

"What's that?"

You spoke again, slightly more than a whisper, but Shanks heard it all the same.

"...I wish I was a mermaid."

"You wish you were a mermaid?" He repeated loudly, almost outraged. You shushed him, and he just laughed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just... nah, you wouldn't like to be one. You'd be missing... slamming doors, and Buggy would drown himself on a daily basis just to say hi-"

"Shut up!" you giggled. "So not true!"

"And then, of course, there'd be all the pirates. I wouldn't like sharing you with them."

"I'm a pirate. You're a pirate."

"I'm a different sort of pirate. And you're barely a pirate at all."

You shrank back, inexplicably hurt by Shanks' drunken offhand insult.

"I'm as much of a pirate as you."

"Of course you are. I didn't mean that. Not like that. I mean, you're just... you're very careful, you're much too good for us. You're not messy or mean like the rest of us are."

"What do you think I am, then?"

"A princess," he blurted out, and you tried not to laugh. "I've always thought so."

"Always?"

"Mhm. The whole time."

You studied Shanks' face, seeing him in a new light that you'd never glimpsed anyone in before. Had he always been this cute, or charming, or kind?

Well, it didn't matter if he always had been, because he was now, and before you had given much thought to it at all you were pushing his straw hat back and he was meeting your lips in a kiss, your first, his first.

"You're a terribly nice pirate," you mumbled.

"You're a terribly beautiful princess," he replied.

You both parted awkwardly, staring at each other with confused half-smiles and resigning to focusing your attentions back on the ocean. For now, it was merely a strange evening, a shooting star, but later on, you would remember that night as the precise moment you began to love Red-Haired Shanks.

And Buggy, watching from across the ship, would remember that night as the second time a deep knot of resentment grew in his chest, one that would only become larger with time. The first time had been as a child, when Shanks had done something exceptionally well where Buggy had failed, and Roger placed his famous straw hat onto his head.

The second time was tonight, because of you.

taglist: @sawendel @twinklesnake

#shanks x reader #shanks #buggy #buggy x reader #buggy opla #one piece live action #it was rare i was there #IWRIWT #live action buggy #shanks x you #red haired shanks

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hlvstia · 9 months

Text

— let loose.

pairing : peter parker x f!reader ( tom!spider )

summary : you find peter angrily training by himself.

warnings : fic MENTIONS spoilers for no way home && MENTIONS blood and death a wee bit. do NOT read if you havent seen nwh and if you aren’t comfortable with said topics.

a/n: switches to 2nd and 3rd pov but doesn’t change the style too much! :)

word count : 1.5k+ MY BIGGEST YET !!! got carried away. OKAY, have fun reading! send requests and i’ll write them <3 also got two fics coming up hehe

after dr. stranges spell, he was furious with himself. he hated the fact how he was forced to forget you and his friends.

all he wanted to do was run into your arms and kiss you. that’s all he wanted. unfortunately, he couldn’t; the presence that he once had was certainly gone because of something he decided to do.

everyday he breathed air was a reminder that you were no longer in the grasp of his arms. he could no longer kiss you to sleep whenever you had a hard time falling asleep.

he was your forte. and your reason to keep on pushing.

god, peter had felt worthless without his close circle. he had to get his anger out somehow. i mean, who was suppose to bottle in the feeling of losing his aunt and his close friends in a close time span?

without a single thought, his fist aimed for the matted material, hitting his knuckles against it as the punching bag jerked back, the chain rattling each time he did.

each punch was a feeling he held inside— one for his aunt, one for you, one for mj and one of ned. each fuckin’ time his knuckles dug into the training equipment was a reminder of how much he was pathetic. at least to himself.

nor’ did he have any gloves to protect his hands. he didn’t care at this point, not caring how much his hands bled from his harsh punches.

hell, his tears threatened to spill out from his puffed up eyes. you could already tell he’s been having a tough time, hence, finding him connecting his fist to the bricked wall behind him.

[y/n] furrowed her eyebrows together, seeing him let out a couple of weak grunts as she grabbed a clean damp towel, approaching the male who seemed irregular than ever.

seeing you made him freeze in his spot, his eyes slightly widening to the fact that you approached him first. he knew you came here regularly, training yourself just in case something horrible had happen to you in the middle of the streets.

so, he signed up for a membership and began training and tracking your schedule for whenever you came. 6pm on the dot always. if anything, he would even catch the moon for you.

“hi, i know it’s not my place but i couldn’t help but notice your knuckles… they’re, uh, bleeding?” your voice was soft spoken, your eyes pointing at his knuckles, the dried blood latching onto his skin. “can i?” you continued, holding out the damp towel to him. “i… yeah,”

most of his words were caught in his throat as he held out his knuckles to you, his eyes focused on your facial features. you were still beautiful as ever to him— the way your lips looked, and the way your eyes were soft everytime they were hyperfixiated.

your lips curled into a small smile, softly pressing the towel onto his knuckles as it picked up the blood, swiping it with a low pressure to wash away the dried blood, but not too much to injur him.

peter winced, sucking the air between his teeth quietly as the fabric made impact with his open cuts, causing him to bite down onto his lips.

[y/n] chuckled softly, feeling bad about his pain but she couldn’t help but giggle at his foolish decisions. “sorry, but maybe next time wear gloves? they help a lot, i promise.” you suggested, wiping his knuckles one last time before folding the towel and pushing his hands down in a soft manner.

there it was again. this was the reason why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. you were always soft and caring to everyone, even if you barely even knew them.

“thanks again, but uh— it didn’t cross my mind to wear gloves. i guess i was heated in the moment? can’t really explain what i was thinking.” peter took one more glance at his knuckles before meeting with your eyes again, this time, his face softening with yours.

“no problem, but can i wrap them up for you? i wouldn’t want your hands getting infected.” you suggested, turning your back to another part of the gym as you started walking, not giving him a chance to deny your offer. “i wouldn’t want to give you too much work— oh, uh… okay!” he nervously followed you behind, keeping a safe distance between you two.

he had a soft blush on his face, not being able to contain the fluttering in his heartbeat each second he looked at you.

as you finally approached your gym bag, you dug in there until you found your packed med kit, placing it on the ground as you opened it, hearing the click. “always bring this with me just in case someone got hurt,” you mumbled to him, searching for an alcohol wipe for his open cut.

he knew you did, but couldn’t bring up the fact that he was aware of it already.

“really? wow, you seem really sweet.” he softly grinned at your comment, his heartbeat becoming faster as he saw you get up, tearing the packet open. “thank you, i would hope i am.” you laughed at his remark, cleaning his knuckles with the wipe. “oh, sorry! forgot to warn you!” quietly gasping to yourself, you felt his body tense up from the sudden stinging spreading throughout his cut.

“n-no, you’re fine! it’s just an alcohol wipe, no biggie.” he mumbled, his body returning to its original state. “yeah but again, it hurts— i mean, the stinging pain is no fun.” you sighed, going back to your bag to grab the bandages that was nearby the med kit.

“right but maybe i should be used by this feeling now… i keep finding myself hurt.” peter flexed his hand, feeling the muscles pull as you tilted your head in confusion. “by training! because, um, i rarely bring my boxing gloves.” he quickly caught himself before you could question him, forgetting that you used to know his secret identity.

“oh? maybe you should approach me often. i’ll patch you up for free… i’d hate to see you hurt.” you unwrapped the adhesive bandage, circling the adhesive around his knuckles and around his fingers.

he let out a breathy chuckle, watching you tear the bandage and attaching it to the side of his hand. “i’ll take up on your offer, i guess i should be more aware though.” smiling to himself, he pressed his hands onto his sides.

“yaknow, i can’t help but fathom myself onto why you seem… so familar to me. have i seen you outside this gym?” [y/n] arched an eyebrow up, packing up her stuff as she zipped the bag closed.

peter couldn’t help but to nervously smile, scratching the back of his neck. there was no way you remembered, right? but again, he did visit the coffee shop you picked up shifts at. “the coffee shop not too far from here… you work there, right?” he responded, looking down to see you getting your stuff together.

“yeah, i do! forgot that this street is mostly filled with regulars!” you snickered, throwing the bag up to hold it on your shoulder.

you get a flashback of to you giving him coffee everyday, writing his name down on each cup sleeve. “peter, right?” you finally said his name.

and that just sent a million sparks inside him, feeling his knees be frail on spot. you had actually remember his name. “yeah, that’s me. peter parker, and, uh…” he paused for a moment, closing his eyes to try and remembering your name tag you had pinned to your shirt. “[y/n], isn’t that correct?” peter snapped his fingers when he finally remembered.

of course he did, but had to play it cool— man, this was going to be hard. having to fake everything because he didn’t forget anything about you.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n] to be exact.” you flashed a charming smile, holding out your hand for him to shake.

“it’s a pleasure to finally talk to you, [y/n].” his smile returned back, his hand barely curling as you two shook hands, gently.

fuck, it was so nice to actually say your name in front of you. your name rolling off his tongue perfectly.

“yeah, the pleasures mine!” you nodded, quickly checking your watch as you saw the time.

your eyes had widened, recalling that you had a friend hangout with mj and ned. “oh, gosh— i have to go, so sorry!” you exclaimed, taking one last look at him.

“wait! can i… get your number before you leave?” he blurted out, rushing to whip out his phone, opening up his contacts list. “for sure! you’ll have to text me later though!” you inclined, typing in your digits as you even inserted your name, pressing ‘done’ once you had finished.

“b-bye! text you later!” he watched you leave, hearing the bell ring as you fixed your clothes, speed-walking to the place you had to be.

just as always, he knew the time you arrived back home. 9:30pm, sometimes 9:50pm if you were at a restaurant with your friends.

as hours passed, you reached to your doormat and immediately heard a ‘ding!’ sound coming from your phone, and just to your surprise.

it was peter, peter parker.

looking at the unknown number for a second, you quickly changed it to his name, following along with a special emoji.

thank you for reading until the end! i know i keep bugging about it but SEND in your requests and reblog this post! it helps me a lot and makes me happy.

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