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princessbrunette · 5 months

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stepbro!rafe is so….. 😵‍💫

pretty dark content ig !! tw: stepcest, some piss stuff if you squint but not rlly, some angry rafey, thas it 🤓

even with sarah standing between the two of you, you on one side of her, him on the other, he’ll still reach behind her back to tug at your hair— staring straight ahead, not even indulging in watching your head gently tip back— because he’s a big boy, he’d never tug too hard. he does let himself glance at you with a smirk when you pout and fix your heads position, sarah tsking at his actions, sending a non committal swat his way, none the wiser.

he’ll embarrass you at your sleepovers with your girl friends, barging into your room when you’re all sat chatting in a circle on your carpet, messing up your dresser and shelves as he looks for something he apparently left there. your friends don’t complain, either too intimidated by his mean presence or thinking he’s sexy enough to get away with it, hair being twirled in his direction which makes your tummy twitch in irritation and you don’t know why. if you tell him to hurry up, or that you don’t have whatever he’s looking for, or god forbid you tell him to get out, he doesn’t care who’s around— he’ll slowly stride over and squat down by your side, squishing your cheeks with his hand making you look at him. “s’that any way to talk to your big brother?” he hums, a threat of course. your friends, wiser than you, suspect something weird is going on but never would say anything. an accusation like that would be crazy, right?

he glares at you when you’re sauntering around in your bikini, tugging at the strings holding it to your body whenever he passes you making you let out a displeased moan that makes his cock bloat, even if you pair it with an attempted smack. “don’t wear that shit around then?” he shrugs like it’s simple logic as he walks away.

he would die before he lets anyone call him “rafey”, but when little old you says it — he has to admit it’s kind of cute. he does think you’re sweet, he really does — when you haven’t seen him all day and despite him treating you all mean, or acting like a total perv you’re still excited to see him and talk his ear off about your girly drama he doesn’t care for. “oh— and then rafey, i forgot to tell you, she got all up in her face and was like ‘you’re not even a real kook!’ and everyone was like ohhhh—” you ramble, following him through the kitchen as he walks through the house, getting on with his daily life just trusting you’ll follow.

“oh yeah?” he hums, so evidently disinterested but you’re too stupid to notice. he heads towards the bathroom as you continue telling your story and you stop at the door, trailing off with a little furrowed brow when he walks inside.

“rafey m’not done with the story!” you whine, and he’s just casually yanking you inside by the forearm, eyes rolling back into his head as he nudges the door shut behind him.

“yeah yeah, keep talkin’ i just gotta take a leak.” he works his belt open expertly with his hand, looking at you boredly waiting for you to continue. however your interest has totally shifted, happy to get all close and personal with your favourite step-sibling, your innocent brain curious to how his anatomy worked. he’s happy to teach you, he even lets you hold his cock whilst he pee’s, smushing your cheek to his arm and giggling as you aim it into the bowl, giggling more when rafe winces and says “shit, stop squeezin it so hard would you?” irritably.

he is always there for you in other ways of course, like when it’s storming or you’ve had a nightmare and you show up at his bedroom door at 4AM. he looks all cute standing there squinting half awake in just his sweatpants, rubbing at his eyes with messy hair. he lets you in reluctantly when you whine about how you can’t get back to sleep without him, watching you clamber onto his bed, happy as a clam in your fluffy socks, one of them pulled up your calf and the other barely hanging on to your foot. he shakes his head and shuts the door behind him of course, his dad definitely wouldn’t approve of rafe taking advantage of his new step-sister like this, and hell, sarah would surely kill him in his sleep.

he leaves rough kisses on your temple when you snuggle into him, and when you get all restless and try to wake him up properly to entertain you because you just can’t get back to sleep, he really has no choice but to sling your thigh open over his bent leg and stuff a hand down your pink panties, being sure to keep a hand free to cover your mouth whilst he strokes the audible stickiness with a roughness that was totally trademark to rafe. he had to, okay? you wouldn’t go to sleep and leave him alone otherwise! he was only trying to calm you down.

when he gets into his explosive arguments with ward, which was inevitable and horrifyingly often — you’d be surprised at his softness directed towards you if you ever happened to walk in, or be witness to the aggression he displayed. even when mad, he’d sigh and storm over to you, clasping a hand on your shoulder and turning you around toward the door. “go back upstairs, kid alright? this doesn’t — doesn’t concern you. big kid stuff.” he tries to usher you out.

“hell— maybe she should hear this rafe! she’s family after all, and you’re screwing all of us!” ward stands, lifting his arms in resignation. your stepbrother is quick to let go of you to close the distance between him and his father, grabbing his collar roughly and pointing a finger in his face, panting roughly through his nose.

“you leave her out of this. do not fucking play with me dad, a’ight?” he shakes like a feral dog, but still manages to turn his head to you who’s lingering in the doorway nervously. “go, sweetheart.” sweetheart, ward stares at him— the shock from his sons aggression melting into one of disgust, suspicion. surely rafe isn’t doing what he thinks he’s doing.

oh but he is, and then some.

#tw stepcest #tw piss #tw dark content #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb

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adventuringblind · 18 days

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Teach Me Part One

Max Verstappen x Reader Part Two

Genre: hurt/comfort (2.7k words)

Summary: Max helps our protagonist through a journey of sexual discovery. You know - after she's been assaulted... Don't worry though, he's got her (and her virginity).

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, BDSM in the wrong way, then it gets better, lots of discussions, Virgin reader, softdom Max, toxic ex, dom/sub, alluded to smut

Notes: I hope this is what le requester was looking for! I tried my best to get everything and I think I did! Really hope you like it and that it brings you comfort!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me because I'm going insane over here...

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Trust is something most people underestimate the power of. Trust is sitting on a chair and thinking it will hold you. Trust getting in your car and knowing it will get you to work and back.

Trusting people is harder than trusting inanimate objects. It’s easy to come back from a chair breaking or a car randomly stopping. Humans take the trust of others and stomp on it. They treat it like a toy; something to be thrown away when they are done with it.

She did trust once. She tried to give someone her love. It didn’t work out for her, and made her struggle to trust anyone after that.

Max swings her legs back and forth on the counter. GP had come in not five minutes ago and told him to get down. But Max is like a cat, and refused to get off.

She sits in a chair in the office area, preparing for debrief. Her fingers crossed it goes longer because that means right to sleep with her. Her boyfriend won’t have any reason to keep her up. Not when she has a race tomorrow.

“Any plans for after the race?”

Logically, there is no way Max doesn’t know her plans. They’ve grown up together; her and Max against the world.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. Probably just hanging out with my boyfriend.”

“Boring, you should come out with the team!” The warmth on his features makes her want to melt. She’d much rather be with Max. Her relationship hasn’t been going well for some time now and she’s been trying to find something to repair it. Because she can’t bring herself to leave. He’s guilted her into staying; the fear of being alone outweighs wanting to leave him.

“If I could find something to do with him, then maybe it would be less boring.”

Max Waves her off after the race with a grimace. She knows he hates the guy, but he also doesn’t even know the full extent as to why she hates him. Why she can’t stand being around him for longer then she has to.

She’s alone in the room for a minute. Her boyfriend is still in the shower for the time being, meaning - she has time to indulge herself.

It’s a stupid interest, really. Max had brought it up in passing; something he’d tried with partners. The one problem with being Max’s friend? His astute lack of knowing when enough information has been given. Still, the details of his experimentation through the years left her wanting to know more.

Her recent search history has been her own exploration into the world of BDSM. It’s a stupid thing to look into considering the male she’s with isn’t the nicest about sex. No, he’s tried to coerce her a few times now. He comes to races with the intention of trying to get in her pants. It’s just not something she wants yet and she’ll continue to let him fuck her throat if it means holding him off from taking that piece of her until she’s ready.

She’s caught up in her own thoughts, mindlessly scrolling something mildly more explicit. “Watcha looking at?” The obnoxiously placed male on the bed tries to crane her head to look at her phone.

In her panic to hide the screen, she fumbles. His hands snatch it away from her and begin scrolling where she had left off. “It’s nothing-”

“Actually, this is something. Is this all it takes to get you to let me in finally? Would you like to be owned?”

She would like to tell him no. She wants to explain what she wants is to feel safe with someone; enough to let go for once. “Just something I was curious about, is all.”

“Whatever - don’t expect me to stick around much longer then. Maybe this will help us get back to where we were.”

She ends up with a bruised throat the next morning. Her peace offering to him since he was adamant about getting something from her.

What she was not expecting the next morning to be woken up stuck to the headboard. Her wrists hurt more than her throat and the fear clouding her brain makes it hard to tell what’s really happening. She tugs at it, only to be stopped by a familiar set of hands. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I figured I’d indulge you.” He sounds nonchalant about all this. She’s not sure if that makes it better or worse. “Just relax, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

It’s the way he’s eating her with his eyes. The sinister tone in his voice. She doesn’t want to be here. The more she tries to relax, the more she ends up panicking. His touch on her skin hurts more than she wants to admit.

“Would you stop squirming?”

“No!” She pulls harder at the stupid restraints around her wrists. She pulls until her hands start to slide out, bloody and burned, but it’s enough.

The second she’s free, she’s flipping them. They wrestle as she attempts to flee, eventually able to slip her way around him and out the door.

She’s barefoot, disheveled, her long shirt barely covering her ass. Not bare, thankfully, but pretty close to it. The adrenaline kicks in and she sprints to Max’s room three floors up and prays there is nobody around. Grateful for the early hour in the morning that this has occurred.

Her knuckles hit the door with a bruising force. “Max! Max please open up! Max-” The door opens and she tumbles inside. Nearly hitting the floor, but Max’s quick reflexes are there to steady her.

She clings to him, sobbing, the fear of what might have happened to her hitting like a punch to the gut.

Max ends up getting her stuff for her. She can’t stomach the thought of ever seeing that man again. Let alone attempting anything intimate.

Max lets her stay in his guest room for the time being. He doesn’t push for her to talk about it. Not yet at least, but she knows he’ll get impatient just like the rest of them. He’ll kick her out when she doesn’t give him what he wants.

Max finds her out on his balcony four months into their new living situation. It didn’t help that winter break happened three weeks after the whole ordeal. It’s nice solely for the reason they drive for the same team. Otherwise, she’d hate being left here to wallow in her own self pity.

Max sits himself on the side across from her. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head? I miss seeing you smile.” She can tell he’s nervous, his lip biting from childhood never went away.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

He’s worried; can clearly hear it in his voice. He wants to know that she isn’t going to do anything crazy. “What happened, I guess.”

“I’m here. If you ever want to talk about it - I’m here.”

Maybe it’s the thought of Max having defended her for years now, or the safety she has always found with him. “It’s really stupid.” She drops her head into her knees.

“Can’t be if it’s making you upset.”

“He saw something I wa looking at on my phone the night before I forced myself into your room-”

Max’s eyes go wide. “Alright, the only stupid thing about that is you thinking you forced yourself on me. You can come to me whenever and I’ll open the door.” He gestures for her to continue after his interruption. “What was on your phone?”

This is the part where she runs if things go south. “Itwaslikesexstuff…”

“Sex stuff?” Well, her original plan has failed. How he could have ever understood that is beyond her.

“The - the kind that - you talked about?”

His cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson red. “Curiosity, I presume?”

“If you count the last two years as a curiosity phase, then sure.”

“I’m - I’m so sorry.”

She blinks at him. The words are barely sinking in as she watches him rub his palm against his neck and jaw. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I sent you - unknowingly, sure - down a rabbit hole that can be dangerous if you don’t know where to look.” His sad demeanor makes her want to hug him. “Was it something related to BDSM stuff? I swear if he hurt you I know where he lives still-”

“Max please-” The laugh raging through her is pathetic. “-As much as I’d love to see him get his ass handed to him, I think I’ll be okay in time. He didn’t rape me. Close to it, but I managed to get away.”

“Oh fuck! Your wrists were busted! I should’ve known.”

“Yeah well, I guess it gives someone else the opportunity to take my virginity-” Well, cats out of the bag now. She had meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. Now Max is gaping at her and she’s not sure how to feel about it.

He slides over to her; their knees now knocking together. “Someone else, huh? Have anyone in mind?”

“Had someone in mind for ages, but he wouldn’t feel the same.” Because he’s seen the worst of her. There is no way Max could ever love someone like her. Someone who struggles with intimacy-

“Try me. Because I think anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“What about you?”

“Especially me.”

It’s a month after that where Max brings up the subject again. They’ve kissed and cuddled, but nothing aside from that. She has tried to suck him off. Her mindset being it would appease him for the time being but Max had refused. ‘Not until you are doing it because you want to, not because you think it’s your job.’

She wanted to lay there and cry. Which she might have, but fell asleep at some point. The subject hadn’t been brought up again until now. At the breakfast table of all places.

“So, out of curiosity, are you still curious?”

She drops her fork out of surprise. “I - I mean… yes? But I’m not sure I want to go through that again-”

“Nope, never. What he did was wrong, plain and simple.”

“But isn’t that what it is?”

“It is about trust and safety. I’m going to assume you didn’t have a safeword?”

No, because they didn’t even talk about it. She just woke up tied to the bed and was told to stay still. She settles for shaking her head no. Overwhelmed by the severe lack of anything that Max is talking about.

“If you want, we can take things at your pace, yes? I’ll show you what the bastard should have done.”

And if that didn’t pique her interest, she doesn’t know what would. “Yeah I - I think I’d like that.”

Max takes her out to dinner a week later. Her favorite, as usual, since it’s also his favorite (another perk of growing up together). He’s terribly sweet to her the entire night. Which isn’t that big of a change from normal - but Max is sassy and won’t hesitate to throw a sarcastic insult her way.

“Are you alright if we talk about some things tonight?” He asks on the car ride home. “I would like to get a feel for what you might want to try in the future so I can research a bit.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.”

Max collects her into his arms on the sofa. The stubble on his chin prickles her skin while he leaves playful kisses. The notebook he has resting on his (and hers by proxy) knee is flipped open to a blank page.

“Okay, first up is safe words.”

“To be fair, I know what they are and why they are important. He just didn’t talk to me about anything first…”

Max hums. “And we’re still gonna talk about them!” He giggles when she groans. “Hey! This is the safety stuff I was talking about. Do you know the traffic light system?”

“Green is for good and red is for stop…”

“And yellow is for?”

“Pointless, is what I’ve read.” She shrugs.

Again, Max gapes at her. “On the contrary, yellow could just mean something doesn’t feel right or you need a minute to breathe. Not a full stop, but a slow down.”

That makes more sense now. Curse the internet! She probably should’ve made sure her information sources were credible to begin with. “Yellow means wait a second.”

“Secondly, it’s usually good to have multiple safewords. Red is one and the other I use is Mercedes.”

She can’t contain her laughs. Nearly falling out of Max’s lap as she clutches her chest. “Mercedes?!”

“Think about it! If Mercedes becomes a normal bedroom topic then we may need to rethink some things.”

“Fair point, but it’s still a bit funny!”

“Next thing on the list is how I personally like to conduct a scene.” The smirk plastered on his face makes her want to curl up in a ball and hide away.

“Is it not the normal way?”

“To be fair - there is not a normal way. It’s just how I’ve come to enjoy setting things up prior. Like discussion beforehand is always a must.”

“Like what we’re doing now?”

“Exactly!”

They end up talking for hours on end. Into the morning until they are both passed out on the couch. Needless to say they don’t get any further than that.

More daycare spent simply talking about it. Max takes care to make sure every detail is talked about. It’s the small things that she hadn’t even thought to consider earlier on.

It becomes safer just by talking about it. Like Max has somehow made it less scary. Which could also just be because he keeps talking about safety.

She explores in the way she is comfortable with. Small touches here and there, a bit of oral when she can manage. Max checks in with her almost too often. Specifically when she’d like him to keep his tongue where it’s at. He laughs at her frustrated huffs. They do the non-sexual side of things more often. Sometimes he takes things into his own hands, getting her on her knees. Nothing more than what she’s willing to do.

It’s when she wins a race, high on adrenaline and soaked to the bones in champagne, that she feels the desire to go further.

She attempts to jump Max’s bones when they are finally back in their hotel. “You don’t want to go celebrate?”

“Can’t I celebrate with just you?”

“You certainly can, but I plan on taking my time if we’re doing this tonight.” The post race gravel in his voice has her swooning.

“Please Max? I want you.”

“I’m going to ask you if you’re sure a million times regardless.”

He pulls her in for a gentle kiss. It turns heated and eager quicker than anytime before. Her need to get her desperation across has Max pinning her to the wall. She squeaks in surprise, having not seen it coming.

“Someone is eager tonight.”

“Are you going to make me beg for it?”

“Not tonight, another time though.”

He taps the bottom of her thighs. He lifts her like she’s nothing and sets her on the bed gently. “Shall we review?”

“Green for go, Yellow for slow, Red or Mercedes for stop.”

God is he beaming at her. His knuckles caress her jaw. “Good girl.”

Gone, she’s so gone for this man it’s not funny anymore. Not when he talks to her like that.

Max takes care of her, runs his hands across her body and makes her shiver. He strips each article of clothing like she’s the most delicate thing he’s ever touched.

“Color?” He says while leaning over her with no clothes between them.

“Green.”

The next morning is fuzzy. She’s not sure if it’s because she and Max were up until the early hours of the morning, or because she’s sore in places she didn’t know could be. It’s unreal how good she feels; how loved and wanted.

She wants to stay here, frozen in this moment, watching the sun soak into Max’s skin. He’s breathtaking; always has been.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Max cracks a smile and stretches his arms out around her.

“You’re a dork.”

“Ah, but you trust me enough to be your dork. Specifically yours; all this dorkiness is for you.”

She rolls on top of him. “Hey Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks - you know - for teaching me and making it special.”

“You deserve is schat. I’m glad you trust me. That's a big honor and I’m grateful for it.”

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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

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Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 3: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara

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yan-lorkai · 7 months

Note

Hii, Lorks ~

Had see that your writing for my favorie earl now, have any hcs for older sibling reader and young brother Ciel? Sorry about bad english, is not my first language

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Been busy with uni stuff but nothing couldn't stop me from writing this now that inspiration strikes me and since we're having a new season I began to reread the manga these past few days and wow, I still love this lil dude. Look at his smiled he knows he's adorable. The Green Witch arc remains my favorite <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, protectiveness.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You were a few years older than the twins, but you were very close to them as well as being a constant figure for them as they grew up. You were what they would describe as the best sibling in the world, even though you liked to make fun of them and make jokes that embarrassed them in front of people, like any good old sibling would do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you had free time, you enjoyed teaching them chess and other logic games, loving the way the expressions on their faces were confusing whenever you used a different strategy. These were simple times when the whole family would get together to watch you play while everyone chatted. Times that were lost after the attack, all the joy, all the warmth, that mixed with the sad blue of the wallpaper until it turned the entire mansion into something cold.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel came back, lost, deeply hurt, and you were the only person he told what happened. The whole kidnapping and the cult, and it broke your heart, your brilliant little brother was an unresponsive blank as he recounted the facts, as if he didn't want to realize the impact that that event had on him. As if he was still on autopilot and couldn't let his guard down. And things were worse now that he had lost his twin brother, who he was as attached to as you were.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But you were there to support him every step of the way, holding his hand after a nightmare, wiping the rare tears from his eyes, listening to everything he had to say. Ciel's stubborn and prideful, he never asks for help but he has this serene smile on his face when you go out of your way to help him anyway. You knew he was strong for withstanding all the pressure, for enduring everything he went through and for having the strength necessary to overcome everything, and you reminded him of that in each of his "weak moments". It reminded him that he was loved and that you would always be by his side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's still twelve, he's still a child, and you're always telling him stories to sleep and taking him out to take his mind off his trauma. Sometimes you just sit next to him and listen to him express his thoughts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel can be a little overprotective sometimes, which is funny considering you should be the overprotective one due to the age difference. He always sends Sebastian with you on your errands, to protect you from some attack or someone. And you don't complain, his intentions are good and you can understand the anxiety he feels upon knowing that those responsible for the attack are free and alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Being a few years older, you know a lot about balls, about every important person and how to negotiate with them. And you teach each of these things to Ciel when he decides to claim the title of Queen's Watchdog, giving advice and sharing your opinion whenever he asks you, being by his side as his left hand.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And being his left hand means that you and Sebastian interact on a daily basis, protecting Ciel, going on missions together, collecting information and the such.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In private, when your masks can finally fall, you call him by his real name, hug him lightly and let him know that no matter what, you'll be there for him. Always.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel actually told you everything, everything except that he made a contract with a demon. He hopes you can forgive him when the contract is completed, when he and his soul disappear from this world, without any chance of seeing you one last time in the so-called paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Even after your death, Ciel might remember the loving way you sat in the chair next to his bed when he was sick and took care of him. He will remember the silly promises you made, the bad jokes you told him to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the little adventures to steal cookies on Christmas morning. Things too precious for him.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #platonic yandere #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader

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ughgoaway · 28 days

Text

Snapshots

a/n; This is kind of half a blurb and half a fic?? Idk, it's just horny thoughts expanded tbh. now, this is NOT sanitary at all. PLEASE do not do this without thoroughly cleaning the shoe first. You are asking for a yeast infection and a UTI otherwise. But this is fiction, so let's all pretend he did a little sterilising beforehand! however, that's not hot to read, so im not gonna write it, but let's play pretend!! Thank you, ily <3

Content warnings; boot grinding, d-word, degradation, jealousy, bratty behaviour, dom matty, spit, swearing, and teasing. But I think thats it?? I'm so sorry if I'm missing some!

word count; 2.1k ish

(shout out to Kirke @nowshesdoingitallthetime for once again causing this. you are my fav little devil on my shoulder encouraging this behaviour...)

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*click* *click* *click*

“Okay and now look to the left!” You hear the photographer shout. matty turns his head exactly as she asks. But apparently, it's not quite right, judging by how she walks over to him and poses his body.

you can feel the jealousy in every fucking nerve when her fingers graze the edge of Matty's jaw, adjusting his head half a centimetre. The move was so small it was completely unnoticeable to anyone else, but what was noticeable was the sly smirk on the photographer's face as her fingers lingered on Matty’s skin.

Your boyfriend remains completely oblivious, as he has been all day. You, however, noticed it as soon as you walked in together. You weren't planning on coming to play jealous girlfriend, you were prepared to be silently supportive.

But when she spent 40 minutes trying different outfits on Matty and showering him with compliments, you knew something was up.

You studied her every move from then on. The way she “adjusted” Matty’s hair after almost every take, running her fingers through every strand in a way that had Matty practically purring.

You look at the way she pulls at his clothes, untucking and tucking in his shirt multiple times. and you also watch her eyes dart down to his exposed stomach every. fucking. Time. You swear you can almost see the cogs turning in her head when she catches a flash of the rose tattoo on his hip.

Every joke he makes, she laughs just a little too hard. Matty is funny, but making a shitty pun is not worthy of doubling over and acting like you're at a standup show. Yet, every vaguely funny comment he makes has her cackling and wiping tears that are streaming down her cheeks.

So you were fuming. Partially at her, Matty had introduced you as his girlfriend at the start of the session. Which had earned him an unimpressed hum from her and you a petty wave. she didn't seem to take too much notice of that fact, though, judging by the way she's stroking his cheek right now.

But you're also pissed at Matty for playing right into her hand.

You knew he was egotistical, but the way he was practically turned into a giggling schoolgirl over the shoot drove you insane. His attention whore actions usually make you laugh, probably because they're normally aimed at you. as soon as you start rambling about how much you love him, matty becomes a child star, immediately glowing at the praise.

But it's remarkably less entertaining when he's lapping up the attention of a woman who is practically getting on her knees in front of you.

And maybe you took it too far, walking over to him mid-conversation and grabbing his face, pressing your lips onto his harshly, you take advantage of the gasp that leaves his lips to press your tongue into his mouth, licking inside and moaning excessively loud.

Matty pulls you off once his logical brain overtakes his horny one, but you can still see he's slightly dazed when he goes back to chatting with the photographer. The haze in his eyes and the pink flush on his cheeks take a few minutes to fully fade, especially when your hand slides onto his thigh and grips his skin possessively.

You hang off his arm for the rest of the break and move closer to the set when they start up again. Every adjustment she suggests you swoop in and make before she can, punctuating each one with a peck on Matty’s lips and a glare her way.

Matty knows what you're doing, and after you lingered a little too long on one kiss, he pulls you in with a hand around the base of your neck.

You feel his breath on your ear before he starts talking, “I know what you're doing. Behave.”

You don't listen to his demands. Why should you when he's been gagging for every piece of attention this stranger gives him? So you play it up even more, determined to beat this woman at her game.

whilst you might win that war, you certainly don't win the one waging with matty judging by his tense shoulders and rolling eyes.

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The ride home is full of tension, Matty's knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, and the hand that usually lives on your thighs is firmly stuck on the gearstick.

You cant deny that the mix of his palpable anger now and how fucking good he looked at the photo shoot had riled you up. Every tick of his jaw makes your thighs tighten. And you swear you see a smile cross Matty's face as you cross and uncross your legs for the 20th time, desperate to relieve some pressure.

As soon as you get in the door, Matty is barking orders at you.

“Follow me. And be quiet. You've done enough talking today.” Any bratty behaviour left simmering inside you was gone. You trailed behind Matty silently, walking into the front room and starting to sit down on the sofa beside him.

“Nope, floor,” Matty says bluntly.

... no, he's joking. Surely.

“What?” you tilt your head at the man in front of you as you speak, assuming this is another one of his unfunny jokes (but you're sure the photographer would be fucking cackling at it.)

“You heard me, Don't play dumb now, baby. Kneel.” You don’t know whether it’s the intensity of his eyes or the assertiveness of his voice, but you do exactly as he asks. Sinking to your knees like you had done for him so many times before.

Your hands start to move to his fly instinctively, assuming you'd be apologising the only way you know how, letting Matty fuck your throat until you cant speak. But his hands smack yours away before you can even touch the denim of his jeans.

“Thats not gonna cut it today, baby. i need a proper apology this time.” Matty's foot slides between your legs, his boot sitting between your thighs as you hover just above it.

“I want you to grind on my boot, sweet girl. Put on a proper show for me, yeah?” Matty nods at you, and you don't even think before immediately nodding back, sinking down on his boot below you. in your mind, you know you should be scoffing at him and rolling your eyes, but your body moves without you telling it to.

You can already feel wetness pooling in your panties, throbbing at the idea of being so powerless under him. You gasp as soon as the cool leather of the boot touches your core, goosebumps blooming over your skin.

Your hips start rutting against the leather, sliding your hands around Matty's calf as you experimentally grind down on his shoe. Matty feels your fingers tighten around his leg as you clit brushes agaisnt the leather, the slight scratch of the boot making your head spin.

You rock your hips dumbly against Matty's shoe, arching your back when it brushes harshly over your bundle of nerves. Your ruby red nails dig into Matty’s leg through his jeans as you cling to him desperately.

One of your hands slides behind you so you can rock your hips even deeper on his boot, laying your palm flat the ground and canting your hips up desperately. Your thighs burn with every rock you make, but the burn in your core is stronger than anything else.

“thats it. now stick your tongue out, fuck. that's it angel,” Matty palms himself over his jeans as he stares down at you, groaning as he watches spit drip from your tongue and fall on the boot below, making every move you make slicker and more dizzying.

Matty looks pretty fucked out for someone who hasn't been touched, a thin sheen of sweat sits on his skin, his dick straining in his jeans as he watches you like a hawk. He studies your every movement like he is watching a cinematic masterpiece, taking in every move you make and committing it to memory.

His jaw clenches as he fights every urge in his body to grab you by the hair and pull under him. Visions cross his mind of him jackhammering his hips inside you until you're screaming his name, watching the bluge in your stomach as he pumps fucking every inch of himself inside you. But he stays strong, keeping his eyes trained on you with every move you make.

“Thats it, shine my boots with your cunt. Good girl” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Matty drags out his words and pushes his boot up, the pressure against your clit making the world around you fall into a haze.

A flush covers your cheeks and chest, and Matty smirks at how blissed out you look.

Fucking you dumb is something that will never fail to amaze him, watching a smart girl become a babbling mess because of him does wonders for his ever-growing ego. It's not like he needed the boost, but your brain melted out of your ears as soon as he starts talking to you like he owned you.

You can't help but squirm as you start moving closer towards the edge, the pressure building inside you slowly becoming too much. Whimpers and whines fall from your lips as your hips speed up, pleading with Matty to let you cum without saying it. Luckily, Matty has seen you fall apart under him enough times to know exactly what you're asking.

“You getting close, baby?” Matty smirks as he speaks, “‘course you are. Filthy girl wants to cum all over daddy's boots.” your jaw drops at the nickname, and you nod as best you can, whimpering with every circle of your hips.

“Beg." he demands

"Tell me you're fucking sorry and beg to cum,” Matty's jaw drops when he sees tears start falling down your face, desperation filling your every nerve. Soon, you're sobbing and begging Matty for mercy, your hips bucking wildly.

“Please. I’m so- fuck- im so sorry, Daddy. Please let me cum, ill be so good, I promise. Just- ah! let me cum. Please.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you fight to hold in your orgasm, but every rut of your hips is making pushing you closer.

“So good for me, such a dirty slut. Okay, angel, cum for me.” As soon as the words leave Matty’s lips, your cumming, the rubber band inside you snapping.

White spots dance across your vision as you push even harder down on Matty’s boot, letting the tough leather push you through your orgasm with every circle of your hips. Your chest heaves, and your jaw shakes as your orgasm drags on, intense pleasure wracking your every nerve.

Your thighs grip tightly around his boot as you reach your peak, but soon enough they're going lax, your hips slowing down until you’re motionless sitting on Matty's shoe, panting wildly and fighting to catch your breath. His fingers move from his lap and grip your chin, forcing you to stare at him as he speaks.

“Don't leave a mess. clean it up for me baby, be a good girl.” Matty nods at his boot, looking at you expectantly with a sick smile covering his face.

You sink further down on the floor below you, ignoring the way the cold concrete scratches your knees as you slide. Dark brown eyes meet yours as you hold eye contact with Matty. staring up at his as you stick your tongue out, and start to lick the leather covered in your slick. An exaggerated moan falls from your lips at the taste, and Matty’s jaw drops as he watches your tongue lap at his shoe.

After a few more seconds of you swiping your tongue over the leather, Matty is dragging you into his lap, gripping your hips harshly as you settle on top of him. He can't help smirking as you hover over him. Your cheeks are pink as you stare at him. The same pretty pink covers your lips. undoubtedly from desperately bitting at them to try and dampen your needy whimpers.

“Don't be so selfish now, princess, give daddy a taste,” you smirk at Matty before gripping his jaw, watching in awe as his mouth drops open and his tongue falls out.

Power skitters up your spine as you lean forward and let a drop of spit fall from your bottom lip, watching it drip and fall onto your boyfriend's tongue. A grin immediately pulls at your lips when you hear the groan that is ripped from his chest.

As soon as Matty tastes the mix of your slick and spit, he's dragging you deeper into his lap, forcing his tongue in your mouth to desperately lick every trace of your release from the inside of your mouth.

Needy hands grip each other's skin, groping every piece you can get your hands on. Eventually, Matty pulls away from your lips, his eyes dropping to watch a string of spit spread between you. His head falls back against the sofa behind him, staring at you in awe.

“I'm booking another photo shoot with her,” he teases, his chest heaving as he desperately sucks in air to his lungs.

“The fuck you are.” You surge forward and capture his lips again, smiling as you feel his lips turn up as soon as your skin touches his.

#wrote this from 12am to 2am so it might be shit #probably is #but delirium is a funny thing #anyway... yeah ignore the logistics of this and just have fun lol <3 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #matty healy fic

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ttulipwritezz · 2 months

Text

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 1 - Stranger that I know.

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you have left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 817 words

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: bear with me on this one, it's rather short but it's to jumpstart the series so i can write the rest of the parts. If you like this, please reblog and comment! <3

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

"When did you say they were arriving again?"

Your voice echoes through the walls of the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld place. you wipe down the kitchen counters as another smaller, more meek voice replies.

"Mum we talked about this" That's your son. Regulus.

After the event of your brother passing, you wanted to honour his name. Such a beautiful name it was. No matter how cruel the people to name him were.

"I know ,I just worry, what if they get lost? maybe they couldn't find the place? what if they got caught- " Your rambling was interrupted by your son once again.

"MUM! nothing is going to happen. Besides, he's your brother. And he has lived here before. You know him." Regulus reasoned, and frankly his reasoning was logical. you were just...paranoid.

You did however, leave out the fact that what truly made you nervous was Remus.

"Well i haven't for the past 14 years, Regulus." you replied, snappy, referring to sirius. Your impatience was nearly rivaling that of your son.

"when is it arrivingggg?" a voice full of exasperation nearly whines as the screeching sound of trolly wheels comes to a halt.

An eleven year old regulus rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he (claimed to) patiently wait for hogwarts express to make it's way into the platform.

A thirty three year old you bent down to brush away his untamed curls, sighing as you did so.

"It will arrive soon enough, dove. Calm down."

Your voice tried to reason but little regulus's patience was waning. You had never seen a kid be so excited at the thought of going off to boarding school. But you suppose watching his older brother Harry would have embedded him with some form of excitement for the school.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t just as excited. It was your son’s first day at school. Big boy wizarding school.You were excited to see your boy go to the place you first knew as home, meet your former professors, roam the halls that you did, and make friends.

You did not, however, expect his first friend to be Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and your dearest cousin. In a way the two were cousins, they just didn’t know it yet.

That summer, when regulus came back from Hogwarts, he had a plethora of stories to tell you. His rant began with his new friends, Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo, and ended with his defense against the dark arts professor, Remus Lupin.

Needless to say all colour drained from your face at the mention of him. Remus Lupin…how do you even begin to describe remus lupin?

Remus is pretty.

He is pretty like the sunrise in winter, when the sky is faded out and it's warm. Thats what you think as you sit on the roof of potter manor. Chatting, with hands occupied by, what you think is, beer in plastic cups. You felt giddy, perhaps it was the alcohol in your system. Or the gentle brush of his hand on your clothed thigh. You felt…in love. Somewhere along the way your innocent schoolgirl crush had become something more. You hoped it had been so for him as well.

“Dove…”

His velvety voice catches your attention. You turn your head to him, only to see him still facing the sun. You’re sure he’s seen your movement though, as he takes it as his que to continue.

Nothing. Nothing could brace you for the words that were to follow.

“I fancy you.” Your eyes widen.He continues.

“I have for some time now… I think you fancy me too? Not to- I- uhm–”

“I do.” you find yourself speaking.

That was your first of many kisses to come.

Just then, the sound of the doorbell catches your attention.

“That must be them” your son says, in a rather ‘i told you so’ tone.

You rush to wipe your hands on the kitchen towel and head for the door.

Taking a deep breath to brace yourself for what’s probably Remus Lupin on the other side of the door, you pull it open with a creak.

Your eyes immediately find his.

And for a moment, you're fourteen again. Staring at the brown haired bloke across kings cross station, as he laughs with your brother. Mesmerized by his eyes, his nose, his lips, his scars. You knew that face all too well.

You blink and you're back at the doorway. Staring at those brown eyes, those eyes you knew...all too well.

"Remus.."

"Hi, love"

Taglist (open): @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa

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rubra-wav · 2 months

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Main Hazbin Hotel cast x fallen angel reader who wants to cut off their wings (drabble - hc format)

Req by: @lightmoon99

A/N: I fucking love fallen angel angst type content, it's my bread and butter. I hope I was able to do it some justice <3

Cw: SFW, decapitation, a bit angsty, platonic, cannibalism, Gn!Reader

When you had fallen from heaven to hell, your hate for your more angelic attributes that had already existed before the fall only deepened.

You hated the sensation of the weight that signified your wings were, in fact, still there even when your halo had been taken when the exterminators had left you to die here.

You hated that you had to feel the pain of your attempt to hide them under cloaks and baggy clothes with ropes pinning them to your back.

When you came to the hazbin hotel, you were open from the get-go with Charlie, hoping she would sympathise being the daughter of a fallen angel herself.

It of course didn't take long for others in the hotel to find out you are a fallen angel, however it did take longer for them to find out simultaneously during a group exercise that you wanted to discard any and all heavenly reminders of what you used to be.

Charlie

- She's horrified when you bring out your wings in a flourish and say such a thing while gesturing to them.

- It's not too surprising considering you hide them practically all the time, but it still fills her with a sense of grief for you to think such a thing.

- She immediately tries to shut it down, telling you that you shouldn't hurt yourself and should be proud you have such gorgeous wings!

- Would apologise and go silent when she realises how badly she's messed up in saying that seeing your expression.

- Only continues speaking to dissuade some of the poor ideas coming from others in the group.

- She'd probably try to think up ways to make it up to you after the meeting.

- Probably tries to suggest doing some trauma work type things? She doesn't know a lot about that kind of thing, but she could get some books on it to try!

- Actually ends up learning a bit about trauma treatment stuff outside of the awful pop culture live love laugh stuff she's on about most of the time.

- Ends up helping out with you coping a bit better in the end due to that.

- Keeps trying but fails to do anything to dissuade certain members of the hotel to stop encouraging you to remove your wings, however.

Vaggie

- She's stung as a wingless fallen angel herself that you'd want to do such a thing.

- But she also understands all the same why you'd feel that way.

- Would respond in a way that's understanding, but ultimately awkward and clunky due to how she is normally.

- Made worse due to her own angst about it.

- Afterwards, she would probably try to have a private chat to you about it since it's clear you're struggling and logically she's gonna probably be the one most understanding.

- May even reveal she's a fallen too if you're close to try and give you a feeling of comradery in a pretty bleak way.

- She's got basically the opposite of what you've got, but it'd still be bonding and mutual support.

- Would be emotionally supporting you and encouraging you to try work through the trauma rather than harming / cutting off your wings.

- What the hotel doesn't have is a doctor, so you'd be screwed if you decapitated a part of yourself.

- She doesn't want you to feel inclined towards taking up certain members' offers either.

- She knows that the others are not going to stop with their bullshit so she actively tries to educate you on what they are up to really and all the risks that come with.

Angel

- When he first hears it, he cringes very noticeably despite his usual persona.

- The definition of 'that's rough, buddy.'

- He feels terrible for you that you'd feel such a way, but he also has absolutely no clue how to express it at all.

- Probably would be the type to try distract you from the bad by having fun, so he'd be trying to get you to hang out with him and either go to parties or go on various shenanigans.

- He's not good at emotionally comforting people at all, so he's awkward as hell and at loss when it gets particularly bad for you.

- But he's always there to try do activities with you to take your mind off of it.

- And he also needs it as well honestly. It's nice having someone who's also feeling shitty so you can mutually drag each other out to do things rather than wallowing in bs and feeling worse and worse.

- Probably calls out Cherry as well because she's always good at cheering him up.

- He knows quite a few people from a lot of different walks of life, so chances are he could get you in contact with someone who'd be able to perform removal surgery if after everything you still want it done.

- No strings attached as well with his assistance, unlike Alastor.

Husk

- He'd not really react at all initially outside of maybe raising his brows at your comment.

- Obviously, it's bad, but he just prefers to play his cards to his chest with how he truly feels about things.

- Would be actively being bitter as fuck at most of the other residents suggesting stupid shit though in a way that's honestly protective.

- Basically shuts all of them down one by one, calling them out on their crap.

- When Alastor points out how he 'seems to care awfully much about you' Husk scoffs and tells him to fuck off.

- Shuts up for the rest of the group part of the interaction.

- Afterwards though, he'd have a private conversation with you and actually gives you some good advice.

- Tells you that you should do whatever the hell you want but also to not let the opinions and thoughts others dictate that.

- If you want to do that, it's really your decision, and nobody has any right to try to tell you what you should do with your own wings.

- Doesn't really share his own opinion on what he thinks you should do because it's asinine and would be hypocritical to what he's encouraging.

- Just encourages you to think for yourself rather than just going with what the idiots and asshole are trying to fill your head with.

- And if you do decide to get them removed? Make sure to be safe with it.

Sir Pentious

- He very obviously feels bad for you. He shows it all over his face but also has no clue how to express it properly.

- So, naturally, he automatically goes to propose a practical solution to the problem.

- "I can do that for you, my fallen friend! I have experience with my creations, so I should be able to attemp-"

- He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's very rudely interrupted by Husk and told to fuck off with that shitty idea.

- Visibly deflates when he's told he's not a doctor and is just some inventor wannabe.

- He'd shut up for the rest of the meeting, moping and glaring between Husk and Alastor.

- But afterwards, he's approaching you saying he would try his best to do it if you asked.

- Would go and start researching how to do the procedure and starts meticulously learning about how to properly do it.

- Whether you decide on him doing the procedure or not, he wants to be ready just in case.

- He has no idea how to emotionally provide for you properly in this situation, so he's doing what he does best and is working practically. He's all open to any way he can be of assistance, however.

- Absolutely asked his eggs for advice on what to do and got nowhere.

Alastor

- Person number 2 who receives a resounding 'shut up' message via Husk.

- His eyes absolutely light up when you say you want to remove your wings, grin widening as he takes on a sweet tone that does not match his intentions at all.

- "Well, that could certainly be arranged, darling."

- Asks if you'd like to make a deal for your wings in exchange for something you want from him. He'd take you to someone skilled enough to do the operation.

- He wants a meal that is heavenly in a completely different kinda way.

- It's not every day you get to eat angel wings. And it wasn't like you wanted them, and he sure did.

- Even if you're friends, he wants to win the rare delicacy competition he has going with Rosie. If he bought some skilfully cooked dish with your wings in it, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt.

- It's not like he'd be lying about getting them removed, either. Just his intentions for volunteering to do so.

- Shuts up about it after the first mention of it and being called out by Husk, going on about something different after.

- But he's already plotting out what he can do to get what he wants.

- Would actively be sabotaging Pentious the whole time he's studying how to do the procedure as well. Those wings are going to be his, and he will not be the second choice when you (in his mind at least) inevitably come to him for assistance.

- He won't actively make your misery worse, but he will act as a passive influence urging you towards his goal.

Niffty

- Would also say she can remove your wings.

- But, would then proceed to try and do just that without even allowing you to process what she's said.

- Gets caught thrashing around like a madwoman in mid-air by Vaggie who saw it coming from a mile away.

- Wants to get your wings taxidermied and framed because she thinks they would make an excellent decorative piece in the hotel.

- Would then need to be kept in sight at all times away from you as she would be repeatedly trying again and again to destroy the cloaks you wear to hide your wings to get to them.

- Already had been collecting your feathers for several months and had already sorted those into a freaky art piece.

- So she's more than ready for a more substantial specimen.

- Was the one to actually expose you as being an angel in the first place - unintentionally by mentioning the giant feathers she'd found in your trash.

- Would probably be placated if you gave her more feather tbh. She thinks your wings and feathers are just wonderful.

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kitasgloves · 2 months

Text

"Bound"

event masterlist

— ♬ "You realize how fine she is. She's just what you've been looking for"

— ♬ Ushijima x Reader, SFW, timeskip, fem reader, strangers to friends to lovers, no beta

Usually, Ushijima Wakatoshi left no room for miscalculation. For a long time, he lived with logic and facts. He made no unnecessary actions and did what he thought was fit. He received comments calling him some robot, he understood where it came from but never understood if it was supposed to be a form of insult or harmless teasing. Nonetheless, he paid no attention to it. On the other hand, Ushijima received countless compliments regarding his looks and appreciated it to a certain extent. However, others had way more time in their hands to waste screaming deranged sentences about how they were 'down bad' or 'thirsting' over his physical physic. Ushijima doesn't want to elaborate further on how he felt about those sides of his fanbase.

The athlete had a stable support system from his father and friends, he's endlessly grateful for their support. Ushijima found himself contented with the people he surrounded himself with, he wasn't the kind to linger in crowds but rather the crowd tended to linger around him. After all, he was a famous athlete so he thought it was natural. People often approaching him for photos or autographs wasn't out of the norm but when you decided to approach him one evening, Ushijima was admittedly astonished.

"Hello"

You started with a mere hello. Ushijima peered to his left and saw you standing there with your glimmering dress and lipgloss shining under the chandelier lights. Tonight was an official gathering for Volleyball athletes, the program ended thirty-five minutes ago and everyone was free to scatter around and enjoy the evening. Fortunately, interviewers or the annoying paparazzi weren't allowed inside the venue.

"Hello"

Ushijima greeted back, he thought it was only polite. He didn't recognize you so you weren't an athlete, perhaps you were one of the staff, or maybe one of the organizers of the event.

"I'm [Name] [Surname]"

"Ushijima Wakatoshi"

"Oh, I know. Everybody knows the famous UshiWaka"

Then he learns your name and he instinctively replies with his. Of course, you knew him and he's used to people knowing who he was. Fame doesn't phase him. But what strikes him as perplexed is why you have decided to approach him.

"Would you like an autograph or a photo?"

"Oh, no thank you! I was wondering if you fancy chatting with me"

"Hm"

He hummed, it was harmless. He finishes his champagne and waits for you to talk, but you only stare at him through your thick lashes and sweet smile. Were you waiting for him to speak first? Now, he has no problem with that but he has to admit that he doesn't do it often. Ushijima adjusts his collar and clears his throat.

"How are you finding this evening?"

"Great! I hope you enjoyed your time here"

"Everything is well"

You nodded but didn't reply after. Ushijima finds it odd that his mind is scrambling to keep the conversation alive knowing he could stop talking if he wishes to and wait for you to walk away. But somehow, he doesn't want you to leave. So, the athlete racks his clever mind for anything to say to make you stay longer.

"Do you like chocolates, [Surname]-san?"

"Yes, I do"

"What do you think about volleyball?"

"I think it's a fantastic sport"

He asks you innocent questions to get you to open up and surprisingly it keeps the conversation going. Later, you start spurring hilarious stories about your friends and he'll take note of every detail. You'd share about the music you listen to and he finds your music taste similar to his as he'd share his input about his favorite songs. You and he talked and talked until the venue slowly emptied. You found your cue to leave but Ushijima frowns at that, he insists on walking you out and calling a ride for you.

"You're incredibly sweet, Ushijima-san"

"You can call me Wakatoshi"

"Okay, Wakatoshi"

You winked and Ushijima felt his chest flutter. He opened the car door for you as you waved him goodbye. He wonders when will he see you again because he keeps thinking about you until his head rests on his pillow. He had no idea where to contact you until he brought your name up to Kuroo Tetsuro and by his luck, you happened to be his co-worker. Ushijima had a hold on your number within seconds thanks to Kuroo.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"This is Wakatoshi"

Ushijima can hear you gasping and falling out of your chair dramatically. There were a few chaotic noises on the other line until he heard your voice again. His chest flutters like it did previously.

"Hi! Did you need something? How did you get my number"

"I got it from Kuroo"

"That sly cat"

"I was wondering if you're free to eat dinner with me tomorrow evening"

"You want to eat dinner with me...?"

"Yes"

"Oh, what an honor! Sure! I'll go"

Your answer makes the corner of Ushijima's lips quirk up, it was so unusual that even he was taken aback. He consulted with Tendou Satori afterward via phone call and told him everything, he asked if he did the right thing. His best friend only laughs.

"Just whatever makes your heartbeat go faster, Wakatoshi-kun"

Ushijima didn't understand it at first but when he finally sees you that evening, his heartbeat spikes up. You were wearing one of those dresses that makes him gulp. When you wrap your hand around his arm and go inside the restaurant, Ushijima gets the similar feeling he gets when he's playing on the volleyball court. During dinner, he notices your finer qualities. And the magic of your rare personality.

When dinner is finished, Ushijima lends you his coat when the evening gets windy. You keep his coat until he takes you home. That evening you reached to the tip of your toes to peck him on the cheek before softly shutting your door. Ushijima stood in front of the door, rigid. His hand creeps up to his cheek where you have kissed him. Suddenly, his face feels warm and his chest palpitates wildly. If he hadn't known any better, he thinks he's going down with something.

But he knew what this was. He has read the shoujo mangas Tendou was recommending to him and watched the romcoms available on his television. Ushijima was falling in love. It seemed so foreign yet natural to experience it for the first time. He never prioritized romance during his high school days, having a girlfriend never crossed his mind. However, when you came into the picture, he thought he wouldn't mind having you as his girlfriend.

Ushijima takes his time to woo you, to see if you could return his feelings. He took you to meet his friends, he asked you to have dinner with his father, and he'd even gone far as to bring you to Paris with him to visit Tendou. On the trip back to the country, Ushijima knew he was head over heels for you. He asks what your sign is and he'll find you two are compatible. He realizes how fine you are. You were just what he was looking for.

Everything you did affected him greatly, you plagued his mind with your smile and scent, and he couldn't imagine another lifetime where he didn't meet you. So, as he asked you out on an aquarium date, he specified it was a date and not just one of your random hangouts, and you said yes, Ushijima felt so happy that he could do twenty sets of a volleyball match.

His cheeks ached from smiling as you pointed out every sea creature you saw and yelled out its name. His phone gallery was filled with pictures of you at that moment. When he admires the colorful jellyfish with you, he sucks in a breath and snakes a hand around your back. His heart skips a beat when you lean against him.

"Isn't this nice?"

"It is. I want to do this with you all the time"

"Me too, 'Toshi"

"[Name]?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you"

You turn your head to face him and giggle. Ushijima couldn't deny it, he was bound to falling in love. He was bound to falling in love with you.

"I like you too, 'Toshi"

"So, will you be my girlfriend"

"Of course, ya goofball!"

When Ushijima looks at you it is visible in his eyes. He was beyond lovestruck with you. From the tenderness in his features and the brightness of his smile. His heart wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #Spotify

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v4mpgutz · 5 months

Text

Lover, Ethan Landry [ HEADCANONS ]

— darlin' you're my, my, my, my lover <3

ethan landry relationship and other headcanons!

warnings ! — canon-typical blood and gore, canon-typical violence, suggestive content (implied intercourse but no smut), mentions of murder

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

ghostface ethan landry:

ethan landry with an s/o that is so incredibly naive and he finds it absolutely adorable.

-> he comes home from what you assume to be econ, not even questioning him because he's your boyfriend and you trust him. he grins when you ask him how his class went. you didn't question the fact that he had small amounts of blood splattered on his collarbone and his shoes — you didn't question anything. he doesn't say anything other than "good" before he's leaning in to kiss your cheek, a subtle grin on his face as he proceeds to pull you into a hug. what a sad, naive, little thing you were.

ethan landry who completely guts a guy in one of your college classes that won't stop flirting with you. you're his, he doesn't appreciate this asshole chatting you up. so, he murders him, pfft — obviously — because that would be the logical thing to do right?

-> he sneaks into your bedroom window afterwards, his mask cast aside but the black robe still engulfing his body as he walks over to where you're reading on your phone, laying on your side. he's immediately sliding in behind you and wrapping his right arm around your thigh, caressing the skin softly as his left one wraps around your waist. his head buries itself into your neck, leaving gentle kisses there as you giggle. you're so cute. so cute, in fact, that he wants nothing more, after just stabbing some guy who hit on you to death, then to have his way with you.

non-ghostface ethan:

ethan absolutely loves laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your stomach. he feels so safe and comfortable and warm — he almost never wants to leave. he also really loves being the little spoon but he's never actually voiced that fact because he's a little shy and doesn't want you to think it means he's weak.

(personal projection headcanon) ethan is autistic and his special interests are spiderman and crystals. he loves spiderman and has a whole bookshelf of comics, posters also covering his walls. he also kind of accidentally got into crystals one day and was like "huh" before going down a loophole of different types of crystals and their spiritual meanings, ruling planets and signs, where they're found etc and now he could see two crystals exactly the same and tell you the difference between them.

-> he has auditory processing disorder so when you're telling him something he'll be listening and nod along, saying "yeah" and "ohhh" but a few seconds later he's going, "wait, what did you say?" this happens a few times within the span of 5 minutes sometimes but you're patient with him and he loves you for that. he also needs captions on when watching tv like 90% of the time because he hears what people are saying but can't process it at the same time unless he's seeing it.

ETHAN LANDRY IS A SWIFTIE!!! he fell in love with taylor swift when he was little because quinn listened to her and now he has all of her album cds and a few vinyls including debut with the ORIGINAL picture to burn (yurrr gayyy.. sorry)

-> his favourite albums are definitely folklore and lover but speak now really has a special place in his heart. he listens to mirrorball and haunted that many times a day that you could play them while he's sleeping and he'll just start singing... in his sleep.

he's definitely lactose intolerant but the kind of lactose intolerant person that will eat copious amounts of ice cream and then later while they're fighting for their life be like "lol worth it."

he kept seeing people say pookie on the internet so he kept calling chad pookie but like.. unironically. on the street they'd be near a road and ethan will just all of a sudden say, "careful pookie! theres a crosswalk!" chad attempts to get him to stop. attempts.

ethan loves to bring you flowers, little origami animals, your favourite snacks and drinks etc when he knows you've had a bad day or even if you've had a good one. his love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch.

he says sorry literally all of the time because of wayne and it makes you sad but also makes you want to literally throw his dad off of the statue of liberty because fuck that dude.

when he's sad he won't out-right tell you because he doesn't want you to worry but you notice right away anyway because he gets super clingy. you're laying in bed with him, cuddling as you play with his hair while reading your textbook.

-> you get up to get a glass of water and he whines, pouting and huffing as he gets up too, following you like a lost puppy. "eth, what's the matter?" you ask and he pauses at your sudden stop in the middle of the kitchen. "nothin'.." he mumbles back as he plays with his fingers anxiously, "..'m fine."

i love him to death and i have even more hcs but didnt wanna make this too long. pt.2 maybe?? idk, send asks or comment with your hcs too !

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hellfirenacht · 6 months

Text

Wing Man Part 4

Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

a/n: This chapter is shorter than usual because my brain fried when writing it at work lol But we finally get to talk to Eddie without Steve cockblocking (too much)

Proof read? You have no proof I can read.

Parts 1 2 3

It wasn’t until Monday after school that Dustin was able to make his way back to Family Video. After the night at the arcade, he’d been caught up with sneaking chats with Suzie and spending time with his mother. Not to mention the dentist appointment that caused him to miss a good chunk of Monday morning. If anything, dating and matchmaking be damned, Dustin had earned the treat of renting a movie and shoving candy into his newly cleaned teeth.

The freshman walked in, said hi to you and walked shamelessly into the back while you called after him half-heartedly that he wasn’t supposed to go back there before turning back to your conversation with Robin.

“Jesus, Henderson you can’t just barge into the back of any job I get!” Steve said as he sat in the break room. “I’m going to have to say no to you at some point.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve talked about this.” Dustin said, sitting next to him in the small room, grabbing some of Steve’s chips. “Anyway, has she said anything about Saturday night?”

Steve watched in annoyance as his friend helped himself to his lunch. “No, she hasn’t said anything about what happened. When I clocked in she said she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Probably because we might have... totally ditched her.” Dustin admitted. “On accident! It wasn’t my idea!” He added quickly as Steve gaped at him.

“What?!” Steve was surprised. “Wait, what happened?”

“Well when the two of you left, Eddie decided that we were done and we all went to get pizza instead.” Dustin said. “I saw her when we were leaving.”

“Shit. So he saw her leave with me, which probably didn’t help.” Steve groaned. “Did Eddie say anything about her?”

“Yeah he... said he wasn’t interested.”

“Really? Shit. I knew he was a freak, but I didn’t think he had bad taste.”

“Why aren’t you dating her?” Dustin asked. “You won’t date Robin and now you won’t date her? Are you allergic to dating cool girls or something?”

“Robin and I are just friends.” Steve said firmly. “And who said I didn’t try to date her? I tried to ask her out once but she turned me down. She said I was ‘too normal’.”

There were tears streaming down Dustin’s face two minutes later from how hard he was laughing at that. Steve Harrington could get any girl in town, and got shot down by the wierdo.

“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system, Henderson.” Steve groaned.

“She’s too good for you, Steve.” Dustin finally managed to say, calming himself down.

“So Eddie was a bust so I guess I’m back to square one.” Steve sighed. “I guess I could take her out to a bar and help her get numbers. If she can keep herself from saying something too weird for at least ten minutes it’d be easy.”

But it didn’t feel right. You already knew what you wanted, and any bar in town would just be filled with the same normal, boring people that you’d never had an interest in.

“You know... Eddie’s band plays at the Hideout.” Dustin said suddenly.

“Yeah, I thought we just established that wasn’t an option.” Steve frowned.

“Okay but hear me out, she liked Eddie, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? So if she liked Eddie then she’d probably like someone who also likes Eddie. He told me that people come to watch his band play specifically.” Dustin was grinning wide.

“Henderson, you might be onto something.” Steve was starting to follow his friend’s logic. “If his fans like him, then she’d probably like his fans.”

“Precisely, Steve!”

The two of them grinned at each other as if they’d just cracked the code to helping you out. However, Steve was only aware of half the plan. That night at the arcade hadn’t been sitting right with Dustin since Eddie tore out of there like a bat out of hell with the rest of the club in tow. He’d seen the way Eddie had stolen glances at you when he thought no one was looking, and only Eddie could miss the way you had been staring at him as the two of you talked.

Dustin wasn’t sure what the hell Eddie’s problem was saying he wasn’t interested, but if Steve was giving him a chance to be nosy and meddle he was going to take it. You had been nice to Dustin this summer, and after starting the new hell that was high school he wanted to help you out. Eddie had been the only person who had been nice to him and Mike in school, and you had been nice out of it.

If this didn’t work he’d leave Steve to his own problem, but Dustin had this one last trick up his sleeve.

“So Eddie’s never talked about having an interest in anyone before?” Steve asked as he tossed his trash and handed over the remaining chips to Dustin.

“Not really. Jeff mentioned that he used to have a thing for some girl named Ronnie, and they all act really cagey about someone else named Paige.” Dustin said with a shrug.

“I have no idea who those people are.”

“I don’t either, they don’t talk about it much.”

“Alright, well I guess we’re gonna go to the Hideout.” Steve decided. “Wait, isn’t his band him and a bunch of high schoolers? How are they even allowed to play in a bar?”

“It’s a bar, not a club, Steve. They can be there, they just can’t drink. Legally.” Dustin decided not to share that Eddie had one or two fake IDs that the barkeeps were happy to overlook for Eddie at least.

“What do you know about clubs?” Steve was surprised. “The only club you should know about is your weird fantasy club.”

“I watch MTV, I know how some things work!”

The banter between the two continued until you showed up in the break room.

“Steve, your break ended fifteen minutes ago. If you get your butt to the front I’ll fudge the time sheet and say you just forgot to clock back in.” you said. “And Dustin, honey, I love you. You aren’t supposed to be back here. Actually, I don’t care because you’re a good kid. Just ask before you barge in, okay? If Keith’s here I’ll actually have to enforce that.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Dustin gave you a salute as the two of them made their way back to the front. When Steve took his place behind the counter, Dustin took a piece of paper out of his bag and handed it over.

“What’s this?” Steve took the paper, looking at the list of movie titles.

“My payment. I want these movies for my services. We had an agreement.”

“Jesus, Henderson you’re gonna give yourself nightmares with these.”

“Nothing’s been scarier than what we’ve been through.”

“Fair enough.”

You looked to be as thrilled to be at the Hideout on a Tuesday night as you would be at the DMV. You didn’t have anything against the place, but you didn’t have anything for it either. You’d been to bars a few times with friends with varying degrees of enjoyment. Hell, this wasn’t even the first time you’d been to this bar. Hawkin’s didn’t exactly have the biggest variety of places to drink in town, and this place was the town’s “old reliable”. Cheap enough for the blue collar workers to enjoy a cold beer after work, but with enough variety to have the young adults of the town fill up the booths on the weekends.

It was not the weekend though, it was a Tuesday night. A weird night for Steve to drag you out to a bar to help you get a date. As you swung your body on the barstool waiting on your drink you glanced around. There was a small, cramped stage set up in the back and a few older men were hanging around.

“So... Steve not to be terribly picky and not to sound ungrateful, but I’m not so sure about this.” You said, scanning the bar for anyone who didn’t look old enough to be your dad or grandpa.

“There’s a band that’s supposed to play tonight.” Steve said, pointing over to the stage. “I heard they’re about our age so I thought it’d be worth a shot.”

“A band?” You considered it. “What type of music are they supposed to play?”

“I think it’s a metal band.”

You snorted into your soda. “A metal band? In Hawkins? Oh, this I have to see.” You hopped off the stool to make your way over to the cork board that was covered in advertisements for the town. You scanned it until you found a flier that had been covered partially by an advertisement for lawn care.

CORRODED COFFIN- TUESDAY NIGHTS

That must have been it. It didn’t give you any information about the band, other than the name and when they played. The logo was hastily drawn on in black and red markers as if putting this up was a last minute idea. You pulled the paper off the board and repositioned it so that it was front and center instead. There, that was your good deed for the day; giving a small band an additional 8.5 by 11 inches of visibility.

“As usual, I have learned nothing.” You declared, taking your seat again. “I have a name and that’s it.”

“What’s the band called?” Steve asked.

“Corroded Coffin.” you replied. “Shouldn’t you know? This was your idea!”

“I was just told there was a metal band that played, I wasn’t given a name.” Steve had been given the name and immediately forgot in the near endless ramblings that Dustin had gone on about.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy-”

“I already do.”

You laughed and continued. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy but the name sounds familiar.” Your legs were swinging off the stool, leaning back against the bar with your elbows. “How can you forget a name like that?”

Easily. Thought Steve.

A few more people were starting to show up now, though it was still pretty dead and slow. Even as people shuffled in and out of the small bar, there was no sign of anyone who you’d deem “age appropriate” for you.

“So you tried to set me up with a high schooler and now it looks like you’re trying to hook me up with someone twice my age.” You joked.

“Yeah, I was hoping there’d be more people here to choose from.” Steve looked around the room. Dustin had said that this band was supposed to have a crowd but he wasn’t seeing evidence of that anywhere.

“Ah well, even if tonight is another bust we can still have fun.” you gave him a playful punch. “If the band is bad we can bond over that, and if they’re good you probably won’t appreciate it and I’ll subject you to my every thought about it.”

“You do that anyway.” Steve breathed out a small laugh.

“I’ll be worse, cross my heart.”

It wasn’t long until the doors to the Hideout opened again, with two highschoolers struggling to fit a drum set through the doors. You snickered as they twisted the parts trying to adjust the bulky equipment. That’s right, the circular drum goes through the square hole.

“Steve, high schoolers.” you whispered. “Again?!”

But then you realized that the two teenagers looked familiar. Familiar in a fresh way. Familiar in a ‘Hey, didn’t I just see you the other day?’ way. Your stomach twisted as they finally managed to get through the door and make their way to the stage for set up.

“Hey, Steve, these kids look- shit.”

Your heart leapt in a way you didn’t expect when the man you’d poorly attempted to get to know just a few days ago walked through the door with a guitar case strapped to his back. He was laughing with another member of the band as they carried in an amp. Eddie didn’t even look your way as they made their way to set up on stage.

He played guitar. Of course he played guitar in a metal band. Jesus Christ, you were actually going to murder Steve and Dustin if this whole situation wasn’t going to kill you first. Eddie dropped his leather jacket on the side of the stage, leaving him in a band shirt that you couldn’t make out the name of in the dim lights. He had really nice arms (how had you missed the tattoos last week??), and the way he was smiling so genuinely and joking around with his friends made you feel fuzzy on the inside. He hadn’t looked like that when you two were talking-

“You’re drooling again.” Steve said.

You shook your head and quickly turned around, putting your back to the stage.

“Steve... what the fuck.” You hissed, glaring at him. “I know I didn’t exactly share what happened on Saturday, but I thought it was pretty clear that it didn’t go well.”

“Listen, I had no- I” Steve couldn’t lie to you. “Henderson said he’d be playing tonight, but I swear I’m not trying to hook you two up again. I really thought that when he said there’d be a crowd there’d be more freaks here!”

You smacked your head on the bar a few times with a groan. “It was so awkward. I told him I’d be right back but then when I went back in everyone was gone. He wasn’t interested in me.”

“His loss.” Steve said. “Listen, we’ll stick around for a few songs and if no one else shows up then we can leave, deal?”

“Deal.”

You tried to ignore the pounding in your heart as you pointedly refused to turn around. You didn’t even know why you cared so much that Eddie was there again. You had only talked for a half hour before he left, but the man had stuck in your mind since that night.

You had been attracted to guys before, but Eddie was on some other level.

“So, are you stalking me now, Harrington?”

FUCK.

“Nah man, just in the mood to do something different tonight.” Steve said, trying his hardest to play nice. He had to remember that this was for you, even though he was starting to like Eddie less after his disinterest in you.

“I didn’t take you as a man with music taste.” Eddie said. You hated that this man seemed to always sneak up on you. You finished off your drink and turned around to join the conversation before Steve made things worse.

Fuck it. It’s not like this could be any more awkward than how things were left off. You might as well have some fun.

“Actually this was my idea.” You said, lying through your teeth with a grin. “Steve here knows nothing about good music, so I thought I’d show him a little culture.”

Steve was now looking at you with his jaw dropped, wondering where the hell that came from. He looked offended, and Eddie? Eddie’s eyebrows shot up as recognition crossed his features as he looked at you.

“So you like metal?” Eddie said, his gaze now locked on yours. You felt an odd pounding in your heart as you looked up into those amazingly round brown eyes. “What’s your favorite band?”

It wasn’t a challenge. There was nothing in his tone to indicate that he was about to turn into a total dick about music, and that both put you at ease and made your attraction to him far worse.

“Well, Black Sabbath is always good.” you thought. “But I’m gonna have to go with WASP. I’d rate them a 69 out of 10 for being so damn horny in their songs.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up and he smiled wide, the same kind of smile he’d just given his band mates a few minutes ago. You licked your lips and felt Steve kick your foot, probably signaling you to stop drooling.

“So someone in this town does have good taste!“ Eddie was moving around more now, taking a few paces back and then back towards you clapping his hands.

“I don’t like to limit myself.” You said. “I’m always looking for new sounds and music. It’s like I feel like I’m suffocating if it gets too quiet.”

You winced internally at the statement, knowing that it was probably off putting but to your surprise Eddie only got more excited.

“Exactly!” He practically yelled.

How was it so easy to talk to him, and so hard at the same time? Why was it that every conversation so far had ended so awkwardly when moments like this felt easy?

“So how long have you been playing?” you asked, looking over at the stage where he’d set his case down.

“The band’s been playing together since we were in middle school, I started playing guitar around fifth grade. We’ve had a rotating cast of members, so I started it, and Jeff’s been there the longest after me.” he pointed to a member fiddling with his bass. “Zack and Gareth joined in high school.”

“And was Chris Morrison ever part of this band?” you teased.

“Fuck no!.” Eddie laughed. “My uncle would say that Chris couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on. He tried to play manager. Tried. After seeing how he ran his campaigns, I wasn’t interested.”

“Didn’t he also run for student council once?”

“You remember those posters?!” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, he never ran. The rest of us were so done with how he was running Hellfire we put those up detailing why he was shit at leadership.”

“You’re kidding!” you gaped. “Jesus, you guys are weird.”

Eddie bent down in a joking bow. “I got a week’s detention for that stunt. I wasn’t the one who made most of them, but Higgin’s always had it out for me. Still does.” He mumbled that last part mostly to himself.

“Why do you two keep talking about Chris Morrison?” Steve asked, and you suddenly remembered that he was there too. Whoops.

“Common thread, apparently.” you shrugged. “It’s too easy to rag on the guy.”

“You had to be there.” Eddie said, as if you and Eddie were sharing connected memories that you were both part of rather than piecing together fragments of a puzzle where you were both corner pieces. The same picture, but never touching.

At least, as far as you were aware.

Steve was looking at you as if you were both insane. He was probably right.

“Okay, okay Steve’s right. I don’t want to talk about Chris fucking Morrison anymore.” you said. “How long have you been playing here, at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday for about 2 years, give or take.” Eddie said. “We started monthly, but we get a crowd now so they asked us to play weekly.”

“A crowd.” You nodded, looking around the dead bar. “Damn, I must be pretty lucky to have the front man talking to me when you have all these people here to see you.” Behind the joke, the tone you used was sincere and playful all at once. You sat up a little straighter, leaning towards him on your barstool.

That was a flirt. You just flirted. There was no taking that back. You were gonna have to commit now.

There was something boyish about the smile he returned, calm and relaxed. “Oh yeah, you should feel special. As you can see we have a crowd of about-” he turned to the rest of the bar, counting the patrons. “-Right, about four drunks. I guess Tim’s out today.”

“Well, make that four and a half drunks and also Steve is here.” you shook Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“Half?” Steve looked at you, pushing your hand off.

“I drove here, I can’t get wasted. But I can have one or two drinks and be fine.”

“Well, if you happen to bite off more than you can chew, I have room in my van for you.” Eddie said. “I could give you a ride.”

Well, that wasn’t what you had expected. Your stomach was flipping like an acrobat at the suggestion. He was offering you a ride home if you wanted to drink? After he’d disappeared on you? Just what was this guy's deal?

“If I’m biting my drinks that’s cause for concern. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to bite a drink.” Smooth, so fucking smooth. You might as well call yourself Skippy because you were as smooth as chunky peanut butter.

But Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right. But the offer’s on the table. Or the bar, since you want to be literal.”

“I’ll think about it.” you said. “I don’t normally go home with men I just met at bars but if your band is any good I’ll consider it.”

His grin widened at that “Then I’ll be sure to tell the guys to pick up the slack tonight.”

That was a flirt, right? Eddie just flirted back with you. That had to be right? You almost wanted him to go away so that you could confirm with Steve that your suspicions about that line were correct.

“Eddie! Get over here and help with the amp, it’s doing the thing again!” One of the teens from the stage called out.

Eddie sighed and looked over at his band that was messing with the amp they had brought in. “Again? Alright, I have some tape in my toolbox.” he called back to them before turning to you. HIs eyes flicked over to Steve for just a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Talk to you after the set?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” you said, “After all you might be my ride home.”

And with that, Eddie turned and left.

“What was that?” Steve said immediately looking at you. “Where did that come from? Your idea? Going home with him?!”

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “You told me I should actually flirt, so I flirted!”

“Where was all that on Saturday?! Hell, where was that for the past two months we’ve had this deal going?” Your friend was looking at you like he hardly recognized you.

“Great question Steve, and it deserves a great answer.” you nodded. “I have no fucking clue. Maybe I’m exclusively attracted to guys that I don’t think I have a chance with?”

“He offered to drive you home.” His eyes darted over to the stage where Eddie had reappeared with a toolbox, messing with the amp. “I don’t know how you missed it but he was flirting with you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I was losing it.” you laughed. “Glad we got that established. Cool. Loving that. Now, on one hand he’s offering me a ride home. On the other hand, to get this supposed ride home I will have to intoxicate myself. Which sounds fun in theory but he’s also a guy I barely know.”

It should have been sketchy, it really really should have been. The only man you would trust to get your drunk ass home without worry right now would be Steve.

“Hey, can I get another one of these, please?” you asked the bartender, holding up your glass.

Once your refill came, you grabbed the drink and stood up. The band was finishing up the sound check and it looked like they were about to start.

“Come on, I want to sit closer. I’m feeling reckless tonight.” You grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him to a table closer to the stage. Eddie made his way to the mic and smiled at you and your raised your glass to him with a smile.

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”

It was in that horrible, terrifying moment when the lights dimmed and the sound of an electric guitar ripped through the air, that you realized something; you were going to end the night with the biggest, stupidest, useless crush on Eddie Munson and there was nothing you could do about it.

I would also like to note that this is a work of fiction. You're allowed to make questionable decisions when playing with fake scenarios. Just roll with it.

Part 5

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

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thewritingofamadwoman · 5 months

Text

To Forgive or Not To Forgive, That Is The Question

Part two of “Should I Stay or Should I go”

Pairing: Mark Sloan x Fem!OC

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, Mark being his usual handsome self.

Thank you for reading & Enjoy!

It had been exactly one month since Mark Sloan officially started working at Seattle Grace and honestly it has been the worst few weeks of my entire existence. My head and heart were all over the place, at war with each other whenever I saw, thought of, spoke to, or worked with Mark.

The more logical, realistic side of me was angry and hurt, betrayed that I had no choice but to work side by side on some cases with the man who had left both my daughter and I when we needed him the most. The emotional, more physical side of my brain couldn’t stop from preening whenever Mark complimented me or flirted with me. He once placed a hand on my waist to squeeze by from behind me I could swear that the entire hallway heard the how loud my fucking heart was beating.

I tried my hardest to be the bitch I needed to be to deter him. I would glare and roll my eyes, snap back and avoid Mark at all costs. But of course, somehow the largest hospital in Seattle had become smaller than your average kindergarten classroom. I couldn’t avoid Mark Sloan no matter how hard I tried.

I was currently standing at a nurses station, flipping through a chart while Callie stood next to me, signing a few papers. Cristina Yang was crunching on chips in front of us when she let out a low whistle. Callie and I turned our attention to her when she nodded her head towards the end of the hall. There Mark stood as he chatted with Derek, in scrubs and a lab coat. The men were whispering about something, and Mark let out a laugh, throwing his head back. Callie let out a breathy laugh of her own.

“Damn he’s hot,” she said, and Cristina hummed in response. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t take my eyes from Mark’s silhouette. They weren’t wrong, Mark was hot. So very fucking hot. But…he fucked up. And I couldn’t forgive him. I shouldn’t forgive him. Right?

“He’s alright, I guess. But he’s an ass,” I said nonchalantly and forced my eyes back to the chart in front of me.

Cristina snorted and continued to munch on her chips.

“Sure, but that’s a fine ass he has,” she chuckled and Callie laughed along with her, agreeing. I looked up to shush them but my eyes connected with Mark’s from across the hall and I stuttered. Make gave me his signature smile, eyes gentle, before turning back to Derek. Callie and Cristina turned around to stop themselves from giggling. Controlling my blush I closed my patients folder and slapped Callie’s arm with that same folder.

“You two are horrible. Just horrible,” I mumbled at them before I walked away.

——

The day continued and Mark always seemed to be in my peripheral vision. Everywhere I went, he was there. Whether he was with a patient or chatting with one of our coworkers, Mark Sloan was never more than 40 steps away from me at any given moment.

I reached my breaking point before lunch.

“Oh for fucks sake,” I muttered to myself when I saw Mark chatting with Alex Karev, MY intern for the month. I marched to both men and cleared my throat.

“Mark, can I speak to you for a second?” I bit out, doing my best to remain civil.

“Uh yeah, sure. Of course. Karev, I’ll see you later,” Mark nodded at Alex before turning to me, a friendly smile on his face.

“Mark, what are you doing?” I sighed, tired of all the emotional whiplash. Mark looked at me, seemingly genuinely confused.

“What do you mean? Karev? I was just chatting with him-“

“No,” I cut him off. “What are you doing here, in Seattle? At this hospital? You’re one of the best plastic surgeons in the country and you had to come to the one hospital I work at?”

Mark gave me a small, sheepish smile.

“In my defense, this is the number one trauma center in the west cost and Richard Webber really did give me an offer I couldn’t refuse. But the main reason? You know the main reason, Lise. I came to apologize. What I did was wrong. So fucking wrong,” Mark sighed, and the use of a nickname I hadn’t heard in a long time did not go unnoticed by me. I let him continue.

“I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you and to our baby girl. I was young and dumb and I know that those aren’t excuses, but you have to believe me when I say that I want nothing more in this world right now than to be with you and to finally meet my daughter.” Mark’s eyes pleaded with mine and I could see the sincerity within them.

But I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him right away.

“Mark, you broke me. I was ready to start a family with you. And you just ripped my heart out and stomped on it. I…I’m not sure I can just forgive you like that,” I said, my heart clenching at the thought of us being a family again. I didn’t notice the hot tear sliding down my face until Mark’s hands cupped both of my cheeks, his thumb brushing the stray tear away.

“I’m sorry Lise. I’m so sorry baby. I will spend the rest of my entire fucking existence trying to earn your trust back, if you’ll let me. I want to do right by you and our baby girl. I know what I’m signing up for here. And I’m willing. Please, just let me try to prove myself to you. I want to be the one who makes you happy again,” Mark pleaded, his own eyes watering with desperation. I reached up and grabbed both of his wrists in my hands before staring into those beautiful blue eyes of his.

After what felt like an eternity, I nodded.

“You get ONE chance. This is it, Mark. You fuck this up and we are DONE for good. You don’t get to talk to me or see our daughter. You disappear from the fucking face of the earth and leave us alone. Do you hear me?” I said. Last time, I let logic and reasoning rule my heartbreak. This time I was willing to let emotion take over. I was still raw from the heartbreak but I guess I loved Mark Sloan more than I was willing to admit.

Mark’s eyes widened and he smiled, squeezing my face in his hands just a touch and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes at the sensation, opening them back up once Mark had pulled away.

“You won’t be disappointed baby, I promise.”

Part Three…? ;)

Tag List (thanks for reading):

@caseyandsloan @xjasam4lifex @spookyboogyuniverse

#mark sloan oneshot #mark sloan x OC #mark sloan fanfic #mark sloan x fem!oc #mark Sloan fanfiction #mark sloan x reader

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