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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

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Across Every Universe

Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3

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Earth 199999

“Mr. Verstappen?”

Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips.

He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant.

“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now.

“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.”

Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.”

The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?”

That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant.

“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.”

“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…”

Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.”

A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back.

“Yes sir.”

With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor.

He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him.

“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded.

With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.”

A squawk of a laugh came from the corner.

“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right.

A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs.

“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table.

“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded.

Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.”

While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say.

The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck.

Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion.

Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.

“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees.

Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle.

Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch.

There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it.

Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list.

Horner kept quiet.

Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.”

Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.”

If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe.

Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.”

A video started to play.

The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back.

The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video.

Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.”

“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded.

Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?”

Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.”

While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you.

“I’m going to go talk to her.”

That shut the three up.

Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.”

Max pointed at the screen.

“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.”

“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face.

“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file.

The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up.

“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box.

Lando nodded. “On it.”

When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in.

Max slowly walked over.

In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her.

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking.

Max was taken back.

“Excuse me?”

You looked him dead in the eyes.

“When do you plan to kill me?”

Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head.

“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.”

It was now time for you to look confused.

“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.”

You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.”

Max smirked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.”

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Welcome to the team kid.”

From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present.

Earth 2113

A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home.

Home.

It felt like a foreign concept.

Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor.

His name was in there 68 times.

Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been.

How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling.

A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood.

As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones.

Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty.

Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for.

He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared.

“Go on.”

That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first.

Smart, Max thought.

He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games.

“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.”

Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was.

“I have another one. I can eat it first?”

Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead.

He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy.

This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days.

Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples.

He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples.

He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die.

One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day.

Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her.

The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.

“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining.

“Kid?” Another shout as he ran.

“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush.

He stopped.

“Kid?”

A whisper.

You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you.

A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you.

“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.”

You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice.

Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground.

A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground.

“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek.

“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.”

Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers.

“Of course you did.”

Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?”

Such a big question for such a small girl.

“Always,” he whispered back.

“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?”

He let out a wobbly breath.

“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.”

He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going.

“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.”

The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him.

After a few moments, he gulped down his cries.

“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.”

He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss.

A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe.

Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join.

Earth 2230

“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat.

“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s.

“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance.

Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.”

A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles.

“How is Arthur handling everything?”

Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.”

“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face.

“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration.

“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?”

The doors slid open and two figures walked in.

“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles.

Once seated, Christian began to talk.

“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.”

A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair.

Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”

Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up.

“Silence.”

The room quieted.

Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”

Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.”

A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it.

“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.”

Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.”

Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.”

Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.”

A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master.

“Have something to say Lewis?”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?”

Charles spoke up. “Like you?”

“Yes,” came the answer from the man.

Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.”

“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.”

Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.”

“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened.

They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads.

“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.”

Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.

Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl.

“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.”

You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat.

“You may rise.”

You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke.

“State your name for the council.”

You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.”

Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.”

You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question.

“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.”

Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting.

Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.”

That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease.

Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice.

“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you.

Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force.

“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.”

Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh.

Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.”

Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Your tired eyes looked around the room.

The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael.

Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for.

Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them.

The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that.

You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined.

The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you.

Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm.

When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen.

Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room.

The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room.

He stood up and walked toward you.

Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.”

“You can call me Max.”

Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?”

Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.”

You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.”

A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?”

With a nod, you two shook hands.

The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”

Master and Padawan Pairings: Max and Y/n Charles and Arthur Carlos and Rafael (FAD) Lando and Oscar Daniel and Liam with Yuki Lewis and George Not mentioned – Alex and Logan Former Christian and Max Former Toto and Lewis Former Jules and Charles Former Carlos and Lando

Earth 934

1991

Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty.

Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder.

A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you.

“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond.

You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it.

“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.”

Your mouth closed at his confession.

“What do they call you kid?”

“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.”

“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy.

Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret.

He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?”

Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow.

“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?”

You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.”

Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.”

You took a moment to absorb all of his words.

“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.”

The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.”

1997

Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed.

That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together.

Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step.

It had gone downhill so quickly.

Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

Many people had been killed because of you.

Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain.

Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely.

Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend.

Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing.

At this thought, your mind was made up.

Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.

“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.”

His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister.

With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours.

“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps.

A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you.

They were quick to also put their arms around you.

Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes.

“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.”

He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away.

Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours.

“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over.

You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind.

“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word.

“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.”

Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye.

Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...”

Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.”

Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown.

“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother.

It was just you and your oldest friend.

Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands.

“Take care of them for me?”

“Always.”

“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.”

“Always.”

“And Max?”

A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak.

“Watch the sunsets for me?”

“Always.”

Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way.

“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed.

“Yes.”

There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.

Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him.

“What is it?”

Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy.

He could only whisper.

“She’s gone.”

There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see.

“Y/n L/n is dead!”

“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar.

“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed.

Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore.

“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.”

Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard.

The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on.

Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance.

“You came back Kid.”

“Always.”

Earth 7521

“When will he get back?”

Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system.

“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner.

Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for.

“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel.

Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.”

Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found.

“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close.

Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation.

“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall.

Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.”

Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed.

Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.”

Alex had a sullen look. “I know.”

Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing.

“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured.

Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family.

Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly.

“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!”

Now you had everyone’s attention.

“Greenie!” Lewis yelled.

You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact.

“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together.

The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times.

On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.

Right. You needed to find Max, and fast.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller.

“Maxie?” you whispered.

His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him.

“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him.

“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.”

Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.”

You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?”

“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.”

You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg.

“This should give you enough support so we can get back.”

Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?”

You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.”

That got a little laugh out of Max.

The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night.

“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning.

“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”

“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”

Two years later

Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure.

Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat.

It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.

“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago.

Max didn’t have much time left.

A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer.

“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth.

“Max?”

Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun.

He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend.

Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature.

“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger.

The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still.

Oh.

Why did he stop?

Max stumbled back and you finally saw.

Oh.

Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face.

Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze.

Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.

They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry.

Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine.

Max would have loved the sunrise.

Earth 1217

“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention.

“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.

“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway.

You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?”

Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you.

“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.”

You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?”

“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement.

“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.”

Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track.

“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.”

“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.”

The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat.

The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch.

Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days.

“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears.

"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."

Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.”

Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver’s father out of the garage on a hunch.”

You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.”

“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.”

You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.”

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind.

Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.”

“Got it. Thank you!”

You hummed. “Polite kid.”

Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off.

He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement.

“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid.

He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand.

“Max Verstappen.”

“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly.

“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.”

You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen.

“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick.

He mumbled, “You.”

You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind.

“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.”

Your heart may have melted at the confession.

“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?”

Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine!

“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.

The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory.

“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!”

Earth 1218 – Present Earth

TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started.

One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.”

You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes.

“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you.

Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it.

But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there.

You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.

Little Racer

https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/ Do you think we’re together in every universe?

It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp.

Big Racer

I’m sure of it kid. Can’t get rid of me that easily.

Little Racer

And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P

You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness.

You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.

Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end.

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver

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repulsiveliquidation · 3 months

Text

If I have to ask, I don’t want it.

Alexia Putellas x Reader [ANGST.]

Years into married life, Alexia gets bored of you. Based on a quote from Frida Kahlo.

I’m not asking you to kiss me, nor apologize to me when I think you’re wrong.

“Where the hell were you?” you ask Alexia, confronting her after she walks into the house way past midnight. It’s four hours past she promised to be home, having gone out with the girls for a drink after training. You were home all day waiting for her but she sounded like she needed some time to relax after being cooped up at home from her surgery so you told her to have fun and sorted yourself out. She had promised to only be an hour or two, but it turned into six hours without even a phone call or text.

“Don’t start with me, I’m not in the fucking mood for one of your lectures,” she growls, throwing her bag down and walking into the house without even a glance at you. Your eyes fill with tears, hands clenched into tight fists by your side as she slams the bedroom door behind her.

You follow her, tears flowing down your face. She’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth, rolling her eyes when she sees your crying state in the doorway.

“What does that mean?” you ask her, arms crossed before wiping away your tears.

“I wanted to drink, it’s none of your business what I do.”

“You promised me you’d be home by 8.”

“I’d rather be out with them than stuck at home with you.”

I won’t even ask you to hug me when I need it most.

Tears rolled down your cheeks when the doctors told you you couldn’t have children. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when he uttered those words to you and your wife. Alexia looked almost distant, you figured that she was simply devastated by the news and didn’t know how to process it. The moment you got home though, she had lots to say.

“You’re telling me you didn’t fucking know?” she yelled the moment the front door closed.

“Ale, I’ve never had problems before! I-”

“Save it. You know I wanted to start a family and now you fuck things up.”

“Ale, I’m sorry…I’m so so sorry,” you tell her, moving closer to her. you reach out for her hand but she flinches away.

“Save your apologies for someone who cares.”

I don’t ask you to tell me how beautiful I am, even if it’s a lie, nor write me anything beautiful.

You’re at an award ceremony with Alexia, she’s sat at the table chatting away with Aitana while you are backstage waiting to receive an award. The beige dress you had on matched Alexia’s suit, there were many compliments hurled your way the entire night. One person hadn’t said anything to you yet, not one compliment from the person that mattered the most to you. Even if you knew that you didn’t come close to being hers.

“She looks stunning in that dress, doesn’t she?” Aitana compliments you as you walk out on stage. Alexia is on her phone, texting someone who’s clearly more interesting than her wife receiving an award on stage.

Aitana slaps her arm, getting more and more annoyed at her friend.

“What?” Alexia says angrily, Aitana just rolls her eyes.

“Alexia. She’s looking at you.”

Alexia looks up at the stage just in time to hear you thanking her for being her beautiful wife and for sticking with her through all the rough patches throughout your career. She forced a smile, knowing that there was surely a camera on her.

You know her well, and that itself hurts because it’s when you walk off stage and you see her smiling at her phone that you know you’ve lost her.

I won't even ask you to call me to tell me how your day went, nor tell me you miss me.

Three days. It’s been three days since you last heard from Alexia. You were both on international duty, the England camp was going smoothly when Sarina called for a quick break. You sit beside Leah and go on your phone, hoping to see if Alexia has texted you. Nothing. Your shoulders slump a little and your best friend notices, a look of concern across her face.

“What’s up?” Leah asks, genuinely curious.

“Nothing, it’s,” you contemplate telling her. telling her that you know Alexia is seeing someone else. Loving someone else. Kissing someone else. Fucking someone else. But you hold your tongue. You force a smile like you’ve seen Alexia do in front of you lately, hoping it’s enough to convince your best friend. She doesn’t buy it but knows not to pry, especially when she can see that you’re hurting.

“It’s nothing.”

I won’t ask you to thank me for everything I do for you, nor care about me when my soul is down.

“Dinner’s on the table,” you tell Alexia as she walks into the kitchen. You look up to see her all dressed and ready to go out, your expression changes to one of sadness.

“You go ahead,” she says, grabbing her car keys. “I’m meeting someone for dinner.”

“Is it the woman you’re always texting?” you ask quietly, back turned to her. You were a coward, your mind told you; you couldn’t even bear to see the expression of pure surprise on her face that quickly turned into one that was serious.

“I am texting no one,” the front door opens, “Don’t stay up.”

I won’t ask you to support me in my decisions.

Having requested to be loaned for the rest of the season, you were excited to see what clubs would want to have you for a while. Arsenal had always been interested in you, having played alongside Leah in the academy when you were younger. So when their legal team got into negotiations with Barça, you immediately agreed.

Things at home hadn’t at all improved, you figured that some time apart would be good for you both.

“Can I speak with you for a second?” you sheepishly ask Alexia who was sitting in the living room on her laptop working away.

She doesn’t even look up at you, nodding her head for you to continue.

“I’m moving to Arsenal for the rest of the season.”

“Why?” she asks with a sharp tone, eyes narrowing in an accusatory fashion.

“They don’t need me here at Barça, besides, it’s not like you need me either.”

“So your solution when we’re having issues is to run away to England? You’ve always thought about yourself and not the team.”

“Don’t you dare say that, I have given this team my everything.”

“And yet here you are, throwing it away because you’re mad at me!”

“Who the hell says I’m doing this for you?” she looks taken aback when you raise your voice. You rarely did, and it takes her by surprise.

“I am doing this for us. You can’t even LOOK at me without looking like you’re disgusted by me. I am going, whether you fucking approve or not.”

I won’t even ask you to listen to me when I have a thousand stories to tell you.

“She’s having the time of her life there! Did you see that goal she scored over the weekend, that’s goal of the year material no?” Patri talks to Lucy and Ona about you, the girls missing you, and having spent the weekend bonding and watching your game against Watford.

“Sí, it was perfect. She is thriving at Arsenal, but I hope they give her back!” Ona says with a light chuckle, leaning into Lucy’s side in the locker room after training.

Alexia walks in, Patri yelling at her to join in on the conversation. It was her wife they were talking about anyway.

“Did you talk to your wife at all today? She called me last night and said that she misses you.” Lucy tells her, watching the captain sit in her cubby and undo her shoes. Alexia shakes her head, immediately getting on her phone.

“No, I didn’t have time last night. I’ll text her.”

“What could you possibly be doing except sulking when she’s not at home? You didn’t have a drink with us either, quite frankly you seemed eager to leave after watching the game yesterday.”

“What I do or where I go is none of your fucking business,” Alexia stands and walks across the room to them. She shakes with rage, eyes filled with pure anger at the insinuation of her being unfaithful. She was, but the thought of her friends finding out that she was doing this to you ate at her. You were perfect in their eyes, the person who would be there for anyone, no matter what. And there she was, being the very thing she promised never to do to you the day you got married.

I won’t ask you to do anything, not even be my side forever.

Divorce. That was where your marriage was headed. As you sat in your lawyer's office drawing up the documents, you were devastated. Pictures of Alexia with another woman surfaced just before you got home for Christmas. The plane ride was the worst 2 hours of your life. Alexia and you were through. She hadn’t loved you for a very long time but you had tried so hard to ignore it and convince yourself that it wasn’t true. Those pictures were a slap to your face.

She looked happy with her.

She looked content with her.

She looked in love.

You set the papers in front of her at lunch with the girls. They sat in silence as she read the stack, slowly realizing what you had just handed to her. She tried to get you to take them back and work things out but you firmly held your own.

You knew your worth.

You didn’t need her anymore.

You didn’t need to ask for her love ever again.

Because if I have to ask you, I don’t want it anymore.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni #woso #woso community #womens football #liquidation writes

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Stripped

punk!steve x rockstar!eddie x stripper fem!reader

summary: the two men you crushed on in high school, find their way into your club. They’re shocked to see the pastors daughter, the cute shy little church mouse is now stripping, but that’s not who you are anymore. Both men who also crushed on you in high school are eager to see, just how much you’ve changed.

⚠️warning: SMUT 18+MDNI, in this au steve was also apart of the freaks of hawkins high, sorry no king steve here, mmf threesome, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex (female receiving), oral (m and f receiving), spit roast, double penetration, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, use of sir and master, Eddie and Steve kiss, squirting, cream pies.

A/N: god, this au really has me hot and bothered! (Please remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

photo edits of Steve and Eddie: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

It’s the busiest night of the week at foxy’s cabaret. The clubs pink and red lights accentuated your two piece red faux leather bikini, the bottoms were extra cheeky which only meant one thing; it was gonna be a good money night.

You didn’t go on for another hour, so you made your rounds scoping out possible customers that would like a private dance, you had already done three, all 60 minutes each. So you were ready to go on stage, make your money and go home.

These nights were mostly accompanied by older married men, looking to blow off steam from their wives. Most of them used you as a marriage counselor, spouting off terrible things about their spouses. It made you feel gross to have to listen to grown men, whine about how their wives are “always bitching” because they want their husbands to be home more, while they’re here getting a lap dance by you. But it was all part of the job and you’ve long learned how to de-compartmentalize it all. This was about money and nothing else.

Finally you’re called out on stage, you saunter on in your red pleasers that matched your two piece perfectly. You felt so hot tonight, and all eyes were on you, as you swung your hair and shook your ass on the pole.

Eddie had just gotten home from a big U.S. tour with corroded coffin. Him and his best friend Steve hadn’t seen each other in a year, so what better way for two friends to catch up then with some beers, hot chicks and tits. That being the exact thing Steve said to convince him to come out tonight. Eddie was kind of over the “hot chicks and tits” having seen too many to count at his shows and on the tour bus. That being said, he couldn’t turn down the chance to hang out and drink some beers with his best friend.

Eddie and Steve instantly felt out of place among all the older, rich, suit and tie assholes. They both wore band tees and vests, that show cased patches of their favorite bands. Not to mention the numerous amounts of tattoos they had; both had sleeves on each arm along with neck and face tattoos. They were definitely being thrown dirty looks by the older men, while the strippers were giving them both “fuck me eyes”. They were stopped by a few girls, to ask if they wanted private dances as they fan girled over Eddie Munson being in their club. The boys declined and Eddie kept the small talk to a minimum.

As they moved closer to the stage, your red bikini and shiny hair caught their attention. They both grabbed seats in the front row, eyes glued on your body. Steve couldn’t place it, but he had seen you somewhere. Eddie couldn’t even think as his eyes took in the sight of you, now with your legs wide open as your thighs shook and your pussy lips almost spilled out of the tiny g string.

Once you began crawling to the front of the stage, swinging you hair away from your face, Steve took you in, not your body, you. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Holy shit, dude,” he says, as he nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow.

It took a second for the trance Eddie was under, while watching you to break.

“What, man?” Eddie says, eyes not leaving you as he leans in closer to Steve.

“That’s y/n, you remember y/n? From high school?” He says in disbelief

“No fucking way!” Eddie almost shouts

That catches your attention, you look over at them. Your eyes scanning over their tattoos, clothes and then finally taking in their faces. Your heart rate began to pick up.

Holy shit, that’s Eddie and Steve.

You hadn’t seen them since high school, you had been enamored with both of them. They were considered freaks for the way they dressed and their music taste but you didn’t give a shit. They were always nice to you and um, hello? They were hot as hell.

You bought weed from Eddie once when you were feeling particularly rebellious, you ended up smoking it in the back of his van with them, they were really sweet, and maybe a little flirty, but at that time you were so shy, you had absolutely no confidence to even bring yourself to flirt back. You were not the person you are now, that’s for sure.

Once your set is over, you walk off stage and decide “fuck it, you’re not that little shy church mouse you use to be in high school.” Yes, your father was a pastor, which made what you do for work all the more shocking.

“Eddie? Steve?” You say as you walk up behind them. They’re deep in conversation, leaning in to each other while they whisper, back and forth.

They immediately turn towards you, their cheeks look flushed and they almost look nervous.

“Y/n? Wow, how’ve you been?” Steve breaks the ice first. They stand up and each lean in for an awkward hug, almost like they didn’t want to accidentally touch your exposed skin.

“I’ve been good, how’ve you guys been?” You take in their faces better, now that they’re up close. You haven’t kept up with Eddie and his band much, mostly since you’re always busy working, but your club will occasionally play “Indiana’s very own corroded coffin” as your boss likes to calls them. The last time you officially seen them was at Charlottes grad party, and that was years ago. They’ve gotten even hotter since high school with all those tattoos, piercings and the facial hair. your eyes were shamelessly roaming their bodies.

“Actually would you guys like a private show? It would give us a chance to catch up?” You look from Eddie to Steve, silently hoping they’d take you up on the offer.

“Yeah, yes. Let’s do it.” Steve says

Eddie’s mouth still hangs open, he’s clearly in shock. You figure it’s because of your prude, church girl image you had in high school, being such a big jump from the girl now standing in front of him.

“Cool, follow me.” You lead them to the private rooms, that sit behind heavy red velvet curtains. Their eyes are glued to your ass in that little g string, they’re being hypnotized by the way it jiggles every time you take a step.

“Here we are.” You open the curtain and motion them inside.

The room is small, a black leather couch sits in the middle, along with a couple chairs, underneath lays a shag rug, while just above the couch holds a red neon sign that reads: “girls, girls, girls”

“You guys can take a seat, do you want anything? Bottled water or another beer?” You ask with a polite smile.

Both boys shake their heads no, but thank you for the offer. You decide to take up the seat in between them, it wasn’t very much space, leaving their legs to rub up against yours, but you had no complaints. Their rough jeans against your soft skin, shot a thrilling tingle straight to your core.

“So?” Eddie finally speaks, “how long have you been doing this?” His eyes begin to scan your face, admiring your soft, delicate features. Features he use to spend hours day dreaming, about. His eyes began to move down to your tits, he wanted to be a gentleman, but he didn’t exactly come here for that. So he decided to indulge.

“Oh, um. It’ll be a year next week, actually.”

They both nod their head, taking in your answer. It feels a little awkward, like theirs something they want to say or maybe ask, but then Eddie begins, again—

“Your dad still the pastor?” you could tell he wasn’t trying to make fun, just a curious question. One you get a lot, but more so in a mocking tone.

“Uh, yeah yeah, he is. But we don’t talk, for obvious reasons,” you say as you gesture to the room around you.

“Yeah, I could imagine. So, how does a good girl like you get mixed in with this?” Steve asks, partaking in the curiosity.

“Well, I had to get out of my parents house, ya know? I wanted to live my own life, so I ended up moving in with my roommate brandy, she had been doing this since she was eighteen, she offered to help me get the job. It’s fun, brought me out of my shell a lot, I’m not that little shy girl you remember.” You didn’t mean for the last line to come out so suggestive, but both Eddie and Steve’s eyebrows shot up, in intrigue.

Making Eddie lean into your ear and whisper, “put on a show for us then, baby.” The tone made you shiver with equal amounts, nervousness and excitement. You’ve grown accustomed to your job, rarely ever feeling nervous before a dance, but right now in this moment in front of Eddie and Steve, you felt that timid girl you once knew creep back into your consciousness.

You stand up, doing your best to push it all down. Slowly swaying your hips as gimme all your lovin’ by ZZ Top, plays in the background. You keep eye contact with each of the boys as you do your little routine. Their eyes roaming the expanse of your body, as they begin shifting in their seats, something most customers do when you know you’re doing a good job. The thought of making their cocks hard underneath their pants, gave you the burst of confidence you needed.

You straddle Eddie’s hips first, leaving him to tense in surprise, so you grab his hands that are folded across his chest and place them on your hips, bringing your glossy lips up to his ear, “you can touch me.” You whisper.

As soon as his hands find your skin, he begins rubbing over your hips and thighs, slowly moving down to your ass, taking two handfuls and squeezing before they’re moving back up to your hips. You look over at Steve who’s intently staring at you both, so you take it upon yourself to bring him closer. “Cmon, you can touch me too.” You say with a doe eyed smile. You grab his hand and place it just under Eddie’s.

“Oh yeah? You want both of us to touch you, princess?” Eddie continues to whisper to you. Smug smirk adorning his face as he looks over at his best friend, you couldn’t make out what they were trying to silently tell each other, but it made your stomach flutter. You were excited for this to go where it seemed to be going.

Steve swiftly lifts you by both thighs, placing you on his lap with ease. His hands roaming your body, as he leans in to whisper to you—

“Please tell us, you want this as bad as we do, baby?” Fuck, their voices alone were making you soak through your little panties.

“I-I do, I want you both. I have since that time I smoked weed with you and Eddie in the back of his van.” You giggle, making your hips jerk over Steve’s hard on. The friction made a whine slip out of your mouth.

The boys laughed at the memory, until they heard you, the whine caught their attention. Steve’s face switches to something more cocky

“Mmm, did that feel good, sweet girl?” He grabs your ass and rubs your core over his cock again, this time making you both moan out in tandem.

You bite your lip as you nod, while eddie scoots in closer to you both, he begins playing with your bikini. His calloused fingers rubbing over the swells of your breasts, hardening your nipples that lie under the red fabric. His fingers find the strings in the back, that are holding the bikini together.

“Can I take this off?” He asks softly

“Yes, please.” desperation has now taken over your voice

“Mm, and she still has her manners. Such a good girl.” The praise doing nothing to help the wetness pooling between your thighs.

Once he gets all the strings untied, he slowly lets it fall onto Steve’s lap. Your tits now on full display for them.

“Holy shit.” They say in unison. Eddie’s jaw clenches, while Steve groans. They each take one of your tits in their hand, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. Every little touch shooting straight to your core.

You’ve never done this before, you knew a lot of your co workers would give blow jobs or have quickie’s with their customer for extra cash, but that was never something you were comfortable with doing.

Yet, here you are, engaging in a threesome with two men you were obsessed with in high school, one who is now a big rockstar. The thought makes your head spin.

Steve grabs you by the back of your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, as he interlocks his lips with yours, you allow his tongue entry while Eddie is moving his neck kisses down to your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and lightly sucks, gently teasing you. You whine into Steve’s mouth, breaking the kiss to look down at Eddie, his big brown eyes already looking up at you through his thick lashes. Your furrowed brows and pouty lips were almost enough to do him in, right then and there.

“So eager and impatient.” He growls as he slaps your ass, hard.

It makes you jerk in Steve’s lap, simultaneously moaning at the friction.

“Naughty girl, likes being spanked.” Steve says as he looks to Eddie, mischievous smirks taking over their once flushed faces.

“Now who would’ve guessed that?” Eddie says, making them both laugh. You feel like they’re laughing at you, but you’re too far gone to care.

Steve grabs your chin, turning your head back towards his and Eddie’s, smiles no longer on display, the air became thicker as you swallowed down the excessive saliva now coating your tongue. “You think you can take both of us at the same time, princess?” Your eyes widen at the thought of both of their cocks inside of you, it makes your stomach flip and you eagerly nod as if you’re a child being asked if you’d like some candy.

You’re by no means a virgin, you’ve had your share of one night stands and an occasional boyfriend here and there, but anal is still uncharted territory for you. You can’t lie that the prospect does excite you though, you would do just about anything they asked of you right now.

“Words, sweet girl. You need to use your words with sir and master.” Fuck

“Yes sir, yes master.” You said wantonly

“Good girl.” Eddie now had his hand wrapped around your neck, lightly squeezing

“This is what’s gonna happen.” Eddie starts “you’re going to lay down on this couch, while me and Steve get you ready for our cocks, how’s that sound, pretty baby?” His words are filthy, but his tone and smile are so soft, you could swear you were transported back to high school, they were making you fall in love all over again.

Love? No, no way. Don’t be crazy

“Yes, sir.” You nod, getting up from Steve’s lap

“Fuck, she’s so obedient.” Steve says to Eddie, like he’s enamored by you. Can’t believe you’re real.

They stand up, allowing you to lie down on the squeaky, old, black leather couch. As you lay, body flush against the cushions, you open your legs wide for the boys as they take in every curve, burning it into memory. Steve starts by taking off your stilettos, placing gentle kisses at the top of your foot, moving up to your calf and over your knee, stopping in the middle of your thigh, while Eddie palms himself through his jeans, admiring the scene in front of him.

Surprisingly, this is something Steve and Eddie talked about quit a few times in high school, they both wanted you. The time they smoked with you in the van, they were going to make a move but decided they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you were so shy and timid but Eddie couldn’t deny that little shy demeanor you had really got him going. They both thought you were beautiful, sweet and cute as fucking button.

They were disappointed after you all graduated and they still didn’t make their move, even at Charlottes grad party, but you had been on the arm of Chip Reynolds. Coincidentally, you also lost your virginity to him that night, after one too many shots.

“Can I take these off, baby?” Steve hooks his index fingers inside the red material of your g string, but looks up for your answer before he proceeds. You nod your head, while you bite down on your lip, granting him access by lifting your hips. The room around you feels hot, as you hear; looks that kill by Motley Crue booming through the club speakers.

Before Steve widens your legs, Eddie walks around you and Steve and takes a seat on the couch, by your feet. Not wanting to miss the view, they’ve been dreaming about for years.

“Open those pretty legs for us, baby.” Eddie says as his fingers walk up your leg, you gasp when you feel the spine tingling sensation shoot through you. You want to squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief of friction, but you know better. So instead you hike your legs up, like you’ve done so many nights before, for men who don’t truly see you, you’re a sex worker to them, someone there to appease their needs. You begin to wonder if that��s how Eddie and Steve see you now, but you can’t dwell on that thought.

You’re now bare and on full display for them, your juices creating a glistening coat on the outside of your well trimmed pussy. Steve and Eddie audibly groan at the sight, insecurity began creeping up as they gawked, but you didn’t know they were equally losing their restraint.

Steve’s the first to trail his hands towards your sex, slow and agonizing. The tips of his fingers barely grazing your skin, just enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he finally gets to where you’re dying to be touched, he starts by rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, he finds your clit and begins slowly drawing small circles. They take in every expression and whine you give them, eating it up like the only sustenance left on earth.

“That feels so good, Steve.” Your mouth falls open as the pressure of his fingers on your clit, pick up. Finally giving you the right amount of friction you’ve been begging for.

Eddie starts taking his cock out of the confines of his black jeans, the tightness being too much for him to handle. As you hear the zipper you lift your head up, not wanting to miss anything. Once you’re met with Eddie’s cock, your eyes widen and your jaw drops, it’s fucking beautiful —

“Well thank you, pretty girl.” Eddie snorts

Fuck, you’re so far gone, you thought you said that to yourself.

But it is, so beautiful. About seven and a half inches, thick and veiny, the spongy heads an angry throbbing red, precum beading at the tip.

“See, told you, you had a nice cock, Munson.” Steve says, before sending you a wink. That mischievous smile making its comeback. The insinuation making your pussy pulse, as more wetness continues to glaze your outer lips.

Eddies cheeks, blooming a pretty rosy pink at Steve’s words. You could tell he was uncomfortable diving in deeper to the depths of what was said, and you didn’t want to push it, no matter how curious they left you.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?” Eddie now asks, leaning in closer to your thighs, while he continues stroking his heavy cock.

“Yes, master.” You say, trying not to sound as eager as you felt.

Steve stands up and begins fiddling with the button of his red and black plaid pants, riddled with different patches, some you’re able to make out: circle jerks, misfits, buzzcocks and minor threat to name a few. They look interesting, maybe you’ll remember to check their tapes out whenever you go to your local record store.

Your thoughts quickly being broken by Eddie’s tongue swiping over your clit, making you moan out a “oh my god!” In surprise

Steve’s cock springs out, and bobs in the air. A little bigger than Eddie’s but not by much, the tip matching his best friends; angry and red. They’re both fucking beautiful, and you want them inside you so bad.

Steve starts fisting his cock as he walks up towards your face, “Aw, no complement for my cock, baby?” Steve mockingly coos

“You’re both beautiful, you and your cocks. Want them so bad.” You moan, as your hips buck up towards Eddie’s tongue, which is now fucking your hole, before moving back up to circle your clit.

“Mmm, that’s better, sweet girl. Now open wide for me, kay?” Steve says as he begins tapping his cock against your lips. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, Steve audibly growls at your obedience before he’s plunging it into your mouth, he grabs a fistful if your hair working you up and down on him, just the way he likes it. Meanwhile Eddie, takes it upon himself to insert two fingers into your wet weeping hole, making you moan around Steve, the vibrations making his cock twitch, deep in your throat.

Eddie’s tongue continues lapping up your juices as Steve is fucking your throat, the whole scene making euphoria pass over you, as if you were high off the best drug. Their cocks were your drug, and they were giving you the perfect high. Eddie’s fingers hit that spot inside of you, that always has you gushing. You scream out, as he’s relentlessly hitting it. Both boys, slowly becoming more and more aggressive. But you did not mind, in the slightest.

Your muscles start tensing and your legs start shaking, as your pussy spasms around two of Eddie’s heavily ringed fingers.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. Mmm, Cum for us, pretty girl.”

Eddie’s ministrations speed up, making your toes curl.

You release Steve’s cock with a pop, as you begin moaning and screaming.

“I’m cu-cumming, fuck don’t stop, master please!” Eddie’s fingers speed up, as wet squelching fills the room. You cum with a splash of wetness to Eddie’s chin and neck, making him growl.

“Fuck, you’re a squirter? Goddammit, you’re fucking perfect.” He’s so ready to be inside you, that he’s willing to spill all his dirty secrets and the feelings he’s harbored for you throughout the years.

Steve is on the other side losing his shit over the way you’re sucking his dick and the fact that you just squirted all over his best friends face. They needed to fuck you, want was out the window.

Eddie gets up from his laying position between your thighs, he brings the back of his hand to wipe the juices that he wasn’t able to lick away, while Steve pulls you off of his cock and back up onto your feet.

Steve sits down on the couch first, before his fingers are pressing into your hips and he’s guiding you to straddle his naked lap, having completely removed his clothes before sitting down. Once fully seated he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes before he looks at you with eyes that could make you puddle right there on the floor.

“You ready, sweet thing?” He asks while he beams up at you, awaiting your answer but also admiring your beauty while trying not to blow his load at the fact that the girl he spent so much time admiring from a far when he was a teenager, is now seated on his lap, naked.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Your words coming out so sugary sweet, making his head drop to the back of the couch, as he does his best to pull it together. He’s never had this problem before, you were completely ruining him, making him feel ways he hasn’t for any other girl.

He lifts his head back up, looking you in the eyes as he takes your chin between his fingers, his other hand still stroking himself. “You’re such a good fucking girl, you know that?” He says with a smirk

Eddie’s off to the side, watching the whole display closely. “She is such a good girl? Isn’t she Harrington? I think it’s time we reward her with both of our cocks. How does that sound, princess?” You moan, while your hips grind down on to Steve’s precum coated cock.

“Yes, please. I need sir and masters cock inside me.” If anyone from your congregation could see you now, they’d think you’d been possessed by some sort of sex demon, the way you were moaning, groaning and writhing about on top of Steve’s lap, you even felt like it in that moment.

Steve finally breeches your soaked hole, making him shudder beneath you. As you begin sinking down on to his cock, inch by delicious inch, Eddie comes and sits on the back of the couch where Steve’s head is resting, he’s stroking himself with the most devious smirk, pupils blown black from lust. If you were being possessed it would be Eddie’s doing.

“Get me nice and wet, baby. Need to be able to slip into your asshole with ease, okay? The sloppier the better.” He winks, while you quickly obey. Opening your mouth and allowing yourself to sink down on Eddie and Steve, simultaneously.

Steve grabs the globes of your ass and starts his own pace while helping you bounce on his aching cock. You’re gagging on Eddie, tears rolling down your cheeks as spit falls from your mouth and down onto the leather of the couch cushions. Both boys eyes are rolling back into their heads, they’re in fucking heaven. In that moment they both have the same thought— they never want to let you go.

Eddie pulls you off as he wipes up the remaining spit hanging from your chin, bringing it down to stroke his already glistening cock, and rubbing the wetness over his balls before he’s behind you, opening up your ass cheeks and using his spit to rub his middle finger over your puckered hole. “I’m gonna put my fingers in first and loosen you up, a’right?” You look back at him, eyes all doe like, lips swollen and wet from his cock. Fuck, you were a captivating portrait of beauty, if he’s ever seen one.

“Yes, master. Please,” broke him out of his thoughts as he breeched your virgin hole with the tip of his finger, making you groan in pain and pleasure. Finally, his finger is fully seated in you to the second knuckle, while Steve begins rubbing your clit as he still fucks into you, “you’re doing so good pretty baby, so good for us.” Steve whispers into your ear, as Eddie’s finger starts moving faster in and out, you can’t contain the screams that are falling from your mouth. Steve continues— “I know baby, I know. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise you, it’ll start to feel so fucking good, okay? You’re gonna love it by the time he’s done.” His words making you bounce back on his cock and Eddie’s finger. “That’s it, princess. Fuck my finger.” Eddie growls.

“I’m gonna put a second one in, okay?” Eddie says as he slips the second one in with the first, this time it goes in smoother, sinking to his tattooed knuckles. “Oh, fuck-” Steve cuts of your moans by bringing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss, of tongues and spit, moaning into each others mouths as you get both your holes filled.

Once Eddie thinks your ready, he gets up from his kneeling position, holding out his hand under your chin as he demands you to spit, then doing the same to Steve. He rubs the mixed spit glob onto his cock for extra lube, he doesn’t want this to hurt you, he wants to make it as pleasurable as possible. Once it’s to his liking he lines his red tip up with your pink throbbing hole, he pushes in and fuck, it’s an indescribable feeling, but it’s so good.

“Oh, fuuuck!” Eddie groans, pushing even deeper inside you. “You’re so tight baby, fuck I’m not gonna last long, I’m just letting you both know that now.” He chuckles making you and Steve laugh, too. “I’m so close, been edging myself this whole time.” Steve says

Finally, Eddie is bottomed out inside of you, grabbing your hips but not moving until you give him the okay. “Just let me know when you’re ready, sweet girl.” — “I’m ready, please eddie, I’m ready.” He grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back until you’re looking at him upside down. “It’s master, remember? I’ll let that one slide since you have two cocks inside you and you’re too fucked dumb, to think. But, next time I will punish you, do you understand?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, master. I’m sorry.” You want to cry, not for being reprimanded but from the sheer pleasure of it all. “That’s my good girl,” he says leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

They both start pounding into you, it’s almost too much but you wouldn’t dare ask them to stop, not when the knot in your stomach is tightening and you can feel yourself reaching that ultimate high.

“Fuck, Steve I can feel your cock hitting mine.” Eddie growls, making Steve clench is jaw and throw his head back. “Mm, you like being able to feel my cock inside her, big boy?” Steve nods his head, while moaning out expletive after expletive.

Them talking dirty to each other while inside you, was about to throw you over the edge, along with their hands that wouldn’t stop rubbing and grabbing at your skin, taking handfuls of whatever they could.

You lean forward and put your head against Steve’s shoulder, while they continue to fuck you, the slight shift giving them better access to your holes, but also bringing Eddie and Steve’s faces closer together. Eddie smiles and winks at Steve as their cocks moved in and out in unison, meanwhile Steve grabs Eddie’s hair and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss. The smacking of their lips brings your attention back to them. It was so insanely hot, making you clench tightly around both boys, Steve pulls away first, “fuck, I think she likes that. You like watching me and Eddie kiss, angel?” Steve says in a mocking tone, all you can do is nod your head, as your high hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my fuck, im cumming, holy shit.” You wail as you squirt all over Steve’s cock and lower stomach. Steve couldn’t hold it any longer, your moans and the splash he felt against his lower half, made him lose it. “I’m cumming, fuck where do I-” he says before you cut him off. “Inside, both of you, I want it inside please!” You whimper

Eddie takes your chin in his hand, turning your face towards his and kissing you deep and passionately as he follows right behind Steve, both boys empty themselves inside your tight, clenching holes. You continue milking them dry until Eddie pulls out slowly, followed shortly by Steve.

Eddie lifts you up and softly put you down so that you’re seated on the couch as he falls down on the cushion beside you.

“Wow.” You three said in unison, making you all laugh out hysterically.

Once the laughing stops, you’re all met with comfortable silence as the background noise from the club penetrates your ears, and you’re brought back to your surroundings.

Then the silence is broken as Steve asks, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Thank you for reading!

•taglist•

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vryfmi · 7 months

Text

book!l&co character lineup

finally finished extended version of my L&Co designs, based on their book descriptions! it took months, but im happy with the results

ID of designs + thumbnail-sketch under the cut

[image ID: two digital drawings of characters from Lockwood and Co books, done in semi-realistic style, black lineart and plain colour against grey background.

image 1: from left to right there are full body drawings of George Cubbins, Anthony Lockwood and Lucy Carlyle. George is standing facing left, slouching, he's looking at the viewer with indifferent expression. he's fat, light-skinned and has medium length fair hair. George's wearing round glasses, red t-shirt, baggy jeans, unzipped grey hoodie and sneakers. he has a grey sport bag in right hand and a black messenger bag across left shoulder. next to him there's Lockwood, he's standing half turned to right, he's facing the viewer with a gentle smile. Lockwood is paler than George, almost a head taller and slim with short, slightly wavy, black hair. he's wearing a grey three piece suit with white shirt underneath, as well as smart black shoes and a purple tie. on top of it is a black greatcoat. Lockwood stands with one hand in pocket and another resting on rapier's grip. the sword is in its scabbard attached to Lockwood's belt. furthest on the right is Lucy, she's standing half turned to right, head facing left with a curious look directed at the viewer. her skin is light and her hair is warm brown, slightly uneven and spiky with middle parting. she has a wide frame and is the same height as George. Lucy's wearing a baggy orange sweater, plaid grey skirt, black leggings and tall dark-brown work boots with iron patches. she's holding onto a strap of her rucksack that is on her right shoulder. there's also a belt on top of the sweater which holds her rapier.

image 2: from left to right there are full body drawings of Flo Bones, human version of the skull, Quill Kipps and Holly Munro. Flo is standing half turned to left, facing towards the viewer with a smirk. she's light-skinned with long dirty-blonde hair, and her face has smudges of mud all over. compared to previous pictures, she's almost as tall as Lockwood, but not quite. Flo is wearing long blue puffer jacket on top of her darker clothes that resemble one of fisherman's with mudded thigh-high rainboots. she stands with one hand in jacket pocket, one raising a brim of straw hat with a knife. said hat has a fishing hook stuck on its brim and two lavender stems attached to hat band. next to her is the skull in his human form. he stands half turned to right, slouching, hands in pockets, with head thrown back with a wide smirk across his face. skull is very thin and not really tall, he is tanned and freckled with spiky dark hair. skull is wearing ill-fitting clothes: a white old-timey shirt that is slightly too big and grey trousers that are too small and short. he stands barefoot. third from the left is Quill Kipps, he stand half turned to right, crossing his arms, head facing left with a look of annoyance. Kipps is short and slim, he has ruddy and freckled skin and short ginger hair. Kipps is wearing a grey leather jacket with Fittes logo on it as well as two medals, tight black jeans and chelsea boots. his rapier scabbard has a baldric type of belt. rapier itself has green gems on a hilt. finally, there's Holly Munro, she's standing half turned to left, head facing right with a gentle smile. she's pretty tall and slim with deep rich black skin tone and black shoulder length curls. Holly's wearing a white short lantern sleeve shirt with a blue dress with a cloth belt wrapped around and tied into a bow at the back, as well as low heel shoes. she has a light-blue scarf wrapped around her head. Holly also has white small earrings and beige nail paint. all of the characters have artist’s watermark at the lower right side of them./end ID]

bonus sketch

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — sentimental sewing + katsuki bakugou.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, sfw, gn!reader and another domestic katsuki thought for you, he’s good at sewing hehe <3!

being an only child meant that bakugou picked up a lot of random little habits and hobbies to fill up his time — especially when he felt alone. the kids at school weren’t really his friends, they only liked him for his quirk, that he was strong, talented. in truth, katsuki preferred his loneliness compared to faux company of others.

instead of playing out in the sunshine, katsuki would sit by his mother’s feet when she worked from home— piecing together and designing gowns or three piece suits or ambiguous tricks to be worn by famous pro heroes to galas and charity events— sometimes, just because they wanted something nice to wear. mitsuki was a highly sought after designer and seamstress, and katsuki picked up on a lot of her skills just from watching— observing, strategising.

“do you want to try, katsuki?” the elder bakugou had asked him one evening, her hand in his soft blonde hair as she’d passed him his own set of needles and a patch of spare fabric for him to work on. he was much too young to help her with a commissioned gown. “watch yer ma carefully, okay, my love? then you can try again on your own.”

no one would have ever guessed that katsuki bakugou was good at sewing or stitching.

over the years he would patch up his own hero costume after training or a gnarly run in with villains— katsuki was sentimental, he blew up a lot of his own shit but his hero costume was somewhat important to him. he didn’t want it to be replaced. he’d used those skills to stitch himself up when first aid was too hard to get to on covert missions— nothing but a leather belt between his pointed teeth and a needle sterilised with alcohol. mitsuki’s skills had saved his life a few times, he’d be forever grateful to the hag for all of that.

being able to use a needle and thread meant saving money on gifts— or at least that’s what katsuki called it. he’d spend ages embroidering little handkerchiefs or sewing patches onto items he knew his newer and better friends from UA would cherish. they all knew about the blonde’s secret talent, holding back their squeals as they squished him between them all whenever he mumbled.

“i didn’t make it, s’just a stupid customised gift. now get off’a me b’fore i blow your head off!”

but deep down inside, bakugou was pleased to know he could make something of sentimental value for the people he loved— even if it was small, it was thoughtful. he liked that.

“katsuki,” you warble, eyes brimming with tears when you come to bed one night— weakly holding up a scarf he’d gotten you to soothe the chill after one of your first and earlier dates. “‘m sorry!”

you and bakugou had been together for years, finding yourself falling fast and hard after he wound up in your care at the hospital— on the one time his handy little stitches had gotten a wound infected. “whas the matter with you, sweetheart?” he grunts, taking off his glasses and throwing his night time read aside. “you cryin’?”

“n-no…um, yeah? it’s kinda stupid? i wore the scarf you gave me today and i got caught on a stupid tree branch walking home and—?” you hiccup, seconds away from breaking down as you hold the piece of fabric out to your boyfriend. “there’s a hole in it? i swear i didn’t mean for it to happen— i just tried tugging it free and it ripped and—“ sniffling, a pathetic pout sits on your lips. “you got this for me ‘nd i’ve ruined it, i’m sorry kats.”

sentimental. you’re sentimental over a cheap and shitty scarf that bakugou had gotten you on a whim— so that he had an excuse to spend more time with you after your initial date had ended all those years ago. “give it here, I’ll fix it.” he grunts, hiding the flush on his cheeks before he takes the scarf from you and pokes a finger through the hole. “stop cryin’ and grab the sewing kit ma left in the study.”

nodding your head furiously, you do as you’re told with a watery smile and perch yourself on the edge of the bed next to your brooding boyfriend while he patches up your silly scarf with some old fabric and a few stitches. “i didn’t know you could sew, kats.” you breathe happily, clutching the material to your chest after inspecting the cute little embroidered heart katsuki had done all nicely for you. “it’s perfect, thank you.”

“all i did was patch it up sweetheart,” bakugou coos, leaning over your shoulder to brush a half hearted and sleepy kiss over your cheek. “ma taught me, s’how i fixed myself up all botched ‘n badly ‘n ended up in your emergency room, don’t you remember?” he loves the way you squeeze him closer, having sniffed your scarf and realised that it smells like your favourite thing. your favourite person. him.

you’re sentimental, not just with materialistic things, but with your partner. your lover, everything about him is cherished by you.

“i just thought you’d been an idiot, didn’t know you were this talented katsuki,” you say wistfully, allowing the blonde to pull you back into his arms.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou scenarios #bakugou imagine #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

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yelena-bellova · 26 days

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - One Shot #4

One Shot #4: The Artist Formerly Known As Joel Miller

Plot: Joel gets another little piece of himself back in the form of music.

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: none (for once lol)

A/N: A little bit of well deserved fluff. I feel like I haven’t written anything for TYL that isn’t tainted with sadness but this is a rare dose of pure serotonin for y’all. Hope you like it!

—————

It was a truth long denied; Joel Miller needed music.

His long held dream of singing and strumming for a living was put to rest when Sarah was a blip on an ultrasound. There was no way to support a family on bar gigs. He hadn’t minded all that much, knowing the million to one odds he’d make it. Still, Joel wasn’t 100% Joel without a song.

In the three months that he’d been settled in Jackson, there’d been shockingly little rest. First there was fixing up the house. Nothing major, adjusting the furniture to his and Y/n’s liking and general cleaning. Then there were the emotional adjustments. Ellie and Y/n took a long while to ease out of the fear Silver Lake had left them with. Not to mention the new life the three of them had been given and how wildly different it was from the one they were used to. Joel and Y/n got set up with the work rotation of the town and Ellie started to (with great hesitation) socialize with the other kids.

It wasn’t until three months in that Joel allowed himself to think about the little things.

He’d been in conversation with a neighbor on patrol one day. An older guy who’d miraculously managed to live into his 70s in a post-Cordyceps world. They were talking about something and somehow it came up that Joel used to play guitar. The man mentioned that there was an old Taylor sitting in his spare bedroom. He’d never been any good and was too old to get any better so it was up for grabs.

Joel immediately accepted.

He beamed as he strode back home with the instrument clutched in one hand. Sailing through the front door, he let go of it only long enough to leave his snow coated boots at the door and remove his gloves.

“Rose,” he called out.

“Kitchen,” his wife called back. He could hear the sink running.

Joel moved through the house to where Y/n stood at the counter doing dishes. Sensing his presence before she even heard him, she looked over her shoulder and her face lit up. First upon seeing her husband, then at what he was carrying.

“Oh my gosh.”

Joel didn’t even try to temper his joy. “I know,” he smiled.

Y/n flicked the faucet off, her attention fully focused somewhere else. “Where?”

“Bud down the street,” Joel nodded in the general direction of their neighbor, “Said I could have it since no one was using it.”

There were only two things Y/n wanted for their patch-worked family: happiness and health. Music was directly correlated to a percentage of Joel’s happiness, making the guitar a gift from God himself.

She threw her hands out expectantly, “Well?”

Joel left the doorway and headed towards the living room, Y/n grabbing a towel to dry her hands and following suit. They perched themselves on opposite ends of the couch.

Joel adjusted the guitar on his knee before pausing, “It’s been so long.”

“It’s musical bike riding,” Y/n washed away his hesitation, “Play me something, cowboy.”

He chuckled under his breath, waiting just another few seconds before pressing down on the strings and forming a cord. The callouses needed weren’t a problem due to years of manual labor. Y/n and him both grimaced in anticipation of what twenty year old strings might sound like. Surprisingly, they were decent as Joel strummed once.

“Not bad,” he commented, “Little out of tune.”

But Y/n didn’t hear the imperfection. Nothing touched her. She was too struck by the sight in front of her. Joel, back in his element, plucking the strings. The way his hunched frame hanging over the guitar’s body was relaxed as ever. How his fingers found their way as naturally across the fretboard as if they’d touched the wood every day since Texas.

Joel was transported with each note. Back to some spiritual space where he had no fears and no worries. Nothing could break through his front door and destroy his life. No one could hurt him. The world didn’t cease to exist, it reframed itself. For every strum, every pick, every change of chord, the world held itself together without his help. He could just be.

However many minutes passed, neither one of them were sure. Y/n pulled herself back to reality enough to remember she had to finish cleaning before grabbing dinner from the mess hall. She swiped the tears beginning to form and got off the couch. Joel didn’t move, still transfixed.

Smiling, she leaned over her husband and kissed the top of his head. The guitar’s song sang sweetly for the rest of their evening.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine #twenty years later

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lordgrimoire · 1 year

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The Goonion would Like a Word, Chapter 3

[Goonion Headquarters, Gotham, New Jersey]

“ORDER! ORDER I SAY!” The warehouse, once a hideout for a minor gang operating out of The Narrows, fell into a hush as the hundreds of gangsters shuffled back into their seats or places of observation, keeping their hands occupied with papers, phones, tablets, as long as they were out in the open and away from their weapons, that was good. “Alright.” The haggard voice of Bill, the local head of The Goonion, echoed across the room.

“The Ghost Investigation Ward, or the Guys in White as some call them, have been confirmed by the Red Hood Gang to be encroaching upon Gotham, Bludhaven, and Metropolis.” The crowd murmured at that, distress and frustration in their stances. “Yeah yeah, I know, It’s a crappy situations, specially since they want to do some unethical experimentation on the whole lot of us, Crane may actually be better than that now a days but the Joker is at The GIW’s level of things, on a good day, at worse they may be WORSE than the Joker’s “Experiments”. So keep your eyes peeled and if you see em grabbing any of ours, that includes your local Vigilantes, then make a call and get involved, the Bats may steal our bones and make our work difficult but at least they have rules. unlike these petty punks. QUESTIONS! DO YOU HAVE ‘EM?”

The room became a shouting match for a moment before settling into several people bullying their way into the center of the warehouse, at the base of the pile of crates that Bill was using for his podium. After some muttering a short man stepped up onto one of the lower crates. “We recognize the leader of the Goonion members serving under The Red Hood, go ahead Mister Kincaid.” Kincaid nodded.

“What are the rules of engagement? Or are we suspending those since these White Suited Bastards seem to look at the Geneva Conventions and the Laws of the Alley as more of a checklist than a warning?” Bill looked around before straightening.

“I’ve spoken with the Reps from as far East as Boston to as far West as Anchorage, until the Anti-Ecto Acts and GIW are suspended and disbanded the rules of Engagement will be To The Hilt, expect No Mercy, if they catch you, they will torture you, so give back as good as you can, unless you have your bosses or your local Cape nearby. Make Noise in that case, try to get the Bat’s attention, he likes them less than we do.” The room rippled with laughter as Kincaid surrendered his stand to a well dressed woman in a three piece suit and top hat, one of Penguins Goons. “We recognize the Icebergs head of security Miss Eliza Smith.”

“What do we do with anything we take from them? Their, Ecto-Blasters? They use Bazooka’s for Pete's sake!” Bill scratched his jaw as he looked around at the amassed Goons.

“Alright, we can keep those guns stashed away, until we know what they do you keep them as secured as possible, Remember we DO have a warehouse for such things.” The crowd murmured, if the GIW was packing THIS much heat then some plans had to be made. As Miss Smith stepped back down back into the swarm of other Penguin Goons another man stepped forward, wearing a bomber jacket with a question mark stitched on the breast pocket. “We Recognize Jonathan O’Brien of The Riddler’s crew.”

“Why are the GIW here? I read the brief but I’m not all that sure what “Ectoplasm” is.” Agreements were uttered by others in the crowd as Bill reached into the backpack by his feet and drawing out a sheaf of papers.

“Gotham,” He began, “Is on a thin patch of reality, the other side? The Afterlife? That’s on the other side, the only other thin patch in the US is a place called Amity Park and that place has been under siege for YEARS by the GIW, but there's the possibility of a portal opening here in Gotham, so the GIW is planning to put us to the same type of siege, few in, few out. Ectoplasm is the equivalent to matter, to molecules and the like, in the realms of the dead, it’s radioactive to a degree, with people exposed to it for long amounts of time becoming “Liminals”, living beings who gain some abilities, usually becoming more durable and observant, blending more with their environment, hell I think the bats and birds are liminal to some degree, and some of our bosses, some of US, and some of our common civvie friends who live in Gotham are Liminals, Jason Todd-Wayne, the primary rep for The Red Hood Gang, was dead for a while, and came back somehow, current assumption is that he’s a Liminal of a higher order of magnitude. If you have friends or family members who have experienced something similar, please show them the documents regarding Liminals that were with the brief, that answer your question O’Brien?” O’Brien nodded and stepped down, no one else stepped forward. “Alright then, all leaders stick around for information packets, everyone else, go home, keep an eye on things, and try not to walk on any graves. I call this meeting of the Goonion to a close.” With that Bill slammed his foot on the crate and the crowd began flowing out of the Warehouse, mostly in small groups and pairs, but no one left alone.

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In a small town called Spittoon in Arkansas a small family of four waited, watching from a tree line as darkness filled the sky, drowning the last of the sunlight as instead the sky filled with specks of light, the stars coming into visibility as The Sun’s rays dimmed.

“Your sure you have everything?” Jazz looked over at her Aunt, still hovering near, still armed with a rifle that could probably take someone’s head off.

“Yep, just waiting on Extract.” Her Aunt nodded, patting her shoulder before ruffling Ellie’s hair and walking over to Danny. He had taken their parents alleged deaths the hardest, after they had begun accepting his Ghostly half and trying to understand more. Unfortunately when they presented their “New Research” to the GIW, they were deemed compromised. Once they had found that out they had enacted contingencies, locking the portal from the Living side, ensuring the only blueprints were with their children for ANY of their designs, and then taking the GIW on a goose chase as far in the opposite direction of where Jazz, Danny, and Ellie had fled as possible.

They made it to Olympia in Washington State, where the Ops Center had finally been forced to ground. Danny hadn’t felt anything but the reports that the “Mad Doctors Fenton” had been killed in a standoff had dealt a blow to him.

“Danny?” The boy looked up at his Aunt Alicia, “You’ll make it through, Maddie has always been built of sturdy stuff, and Jack is just the same.” The boy nodded, seemingly dragged from whatever thoughts were clouding his mind. The wind picked up an hour later as the four of them sat in the grass, no one had pulled out flashlights but the descending aircraft turned a single floodlight on, bathing the clearing in light before the hatch opened, and out stepped Red Hood.

Alicia turns her attention to her younger Nephew and Niece, allowing Jazz and Hood [one Jason Todd, apparently] and checked them over one last time before hearing a cleared throat behind her. When she looked over she saw the giant of a man who had taken an interest in her niece and suffice to say, he was not as tall as Jazz had made him sound. “He’s shorter than I thought he’d be.” Danny and Ellie cackled behind her as they began lugging their bags over to Jazz, Hood’s helmet not giving away his expression as he slumped slightly.

“Really?” Alicia smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Your not the biggest person I’ve met, these pipsqueaks will take after their Father more than likely, a little collection of giants if you will.” She could hear the poor bastard rolling his eyes. “Anyways, everything set up for them?” She crossed her arms, watching as Red Hood straightened out more.

“Yes, Jazz’s college credits have been transferred, their identities have been hidden and new ones have been confirmed, by the way I still want to know who made those, their good. And I think I’ve found a school for Danny and Ellie.” The Groans that sounded from the two youngest was like music to her ears, she nodded in approval. “I also told some of my extended family about, well, all the stuff going on, so they’ll have people looking out for them who are in the good end of the law.” Alicia raised a brow.

“Like the Bat?” Hood seemed to still and turn slightly. “It’s not hard to figure out if you have some of the pieces, Jazz didn’t even tell me, you were the Second Robin I take it?” Hood stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Alright, good to have that theory confirmed, we’re all a little too curious for our own good, us Walkers always have been, you take care of them, got it?” Hood nodded again, seeming far more sure of himself now, good, she’d hate to spook him too badly. “Good, now,” She unslung her rifle, unloaded the old bolt action, and handed it handle first to Hood, “A little something, that thing’s been in my family for years, This was my Grand Uncle’s first, then my Pop’s, then mine when Maddie didn’t want to have a “Live Firearm” in the house, I know the GIW will come snooping, but I’ve got my own plans for them, if they work out, expect me or a letter within six months.” She turned to her Nieces and Nephews who had come up behind Red Hood. “Be good, be safe, and don’t let them take you quietly, I love you all.” She stepped past Hood, embraced each of her Sister’s children one last time and stepped back, nodding to them before retreating to the edge of the clearing. When she turned around to watch as her the floodlight shut off and the plane rose into the sky, she knew she’d see them again, it may just take longer. She stayed in that clearing for a time after they were well out of eyesight, a fistful of rifle rounds in her pocket, a bowie knife in her boot, and plans, ever churning, in her mind. Alicia Walker had work to do.

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[BEGIN TRANSMISSION, PENTAGON TO JL STATION:WATCHTOWER]

PENT: Prepare for Information Packet.

PENT: [FOLDER.FEDGOV.GIW.A-EA]

JLWATCH: Pentagon whose authority is this coming from.

PENT: Negative, Good Luck. Check on Captain Marvel.

JLWATCH: Pentagon?

JLWATCH: Pentagon Respond.

-SESSION TERMINATED-

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To: Batman, Superman, WanderWoman

From: Comms Officer Sam Thule

Subject: The Anti-Ecto Acts and Ghost Investigation Ward

Boss, the Pentagon just sent us some stuff, I think you need to see this. If you can get Captain Marvel up here too we’ll need him here soon.

[SEE ATTACHMENTS]

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Tag Section

@cass-brightwood @justwannabecat @luckykittens198 @vythika96 @ultimatebluff @amercurio @tkiesai @escelia @jaggedheart11 @lexdamo @ascetic-orange @botwadtict @nutcase8691 @delicioushologramperson @sailor-goddess @meira-3919 @icedbluesoul ALRIGHTY TAGGED FOLKS! IF YOU WANT TO CHECK ON THIS SERIES I WILL BE UPDATING THE LIST BELOW WHENEVER I UPDATE! SO USE THAT! [I may or may not link this chapter or further ones in a similar way, my brain is like, non operable at the moment.]

Links to other Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #jason todd #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #gotham #The Goonion #Bill the henchman #The Goonion V The GIW #the justice league

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buckys-little-belle · 4 months

Text

Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes

. ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries

Word Count - 1751

Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!

. ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .

Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in.

As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold.

“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy.

“You made these?”

“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back.

“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone.

“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat.

“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal.

“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure.

The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters.

Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice.

“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board.

“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’.

. ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .

They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.

She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star.

“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out.

“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case.

“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.

“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay.

“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know.

. ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .

Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face.

She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory.

The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone.

“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands.

Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her.

“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face.

“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that.

She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave.

“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought.

She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed.

“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #little reader #little fic #cafe bignsmall #bignsmall

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rayrayvan · 1 year

Text

It's okay, I forgive you

Pairing: Shuri x fem!reader

Note: This request was made by @kingstormpostsshit and I hope you like this piece. Enjoy everyone 🤗

As the Shuri coped in her lab figuring out how to recreate the heart-shaped herb, you and Riri helped make suits for the battle between Talokan and Wakanda.

“Griot what’s the probability of the herb?” Shuri asked her AI and when Griot told her it was about 97% , you immediately stopped what you’re doing and rushed to her side.

You embraced her immediately “Well done my love” You told her “Will it work?” Nakia asked, “It will work if it closes” Shuri told her “Griot print it out. The three of you rushed to the printing machine and the process of printing started.

After it was printing it closed up and glow into a purplish color. Nakia hugged Shuri and both nodded to each other.

“Just prepare if I ever I have a cardiac arrest okay?” Shuri told both you and Nakia as you settled your kimoyo beads to her chest “Wait cardiac arrest?” Riri was baffled at how the ritual would go. You leaned closer to your girlfriend and held her hands “Just promise me, come back to me, to us, to Wakanda okay? I love you” You whispered and kissed her forehead lovingly “I love you too, I’ll be back” She promised you

As Nakia started the ritual and Shuri drank the purple liquid, you three awaited for it to work.

Suddenly Shuri woke up, Nakia rushed to her side while you wait “Who did you see?” Nakia asked but Shuri was hesitant to answer “It didn’t work, it’s not, I know it’s not” Shuri repeated over and over and you were quick you hold her “Shuri we don’t know, calm down my love, it’s okay” As you reassured her, she pushed you accidentally and you flew across the room and slammed into a window pane. Riri was quick to your side to aid you. The pain you felt was running through your back, some broken glass scratched in your arms. Shuri was in shock that she did something to the last person who knows her more than anyone even herself.

As Riri helped you stand up, you broke free from her grip and limped your way to your shocked girlfriend. “Hey , Shuri look at me” You told her and cupped her face between your palms “I hurt you” She repeatedly whispered and her eyes are frantically looking everywhere except your face “Shuri, it’s okay, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay” You told her . She looked directly to your eyes and when she saw blood in your cheek, she sobbed “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” She repeatedly apologized to you. You embraced her quickly and told her it was okay and you forgave her.

A few hours went by and you were patched up, you offered to help them build weapons and armours for the fight. As Shuri was building her Black Panther suit, her eyes were always on a look out for you and when you caught her looking at you, she’d look away, so you decided to approach her. “You seem to miss me everytime I’m out of your peripheral view” You told her jokingly and as she looked up to your face, her eyes saw how patched up your arms were so she averted her gaze. You took notice of this and told her to look at you.

The hesitation to look directly at your eyes was evident around her face, so you cupped her face between both of your palms. You smiled when you saw her eyes, she was slightly taller than you so you had to raise your head to look at her beautiful face. “My love it’s okay, I forgive you” You told her but she went on to saying “How could you forgive me? I almost killed you, I cannot lose the last person who knows me well. I’ve lost too much , losing you would break me. You’re the only person left to keep me sane. I’m so sorry Y/N” She cried and you hugged her “It’s okay my love, I’m right here.” You told her reassuringly.

And that day on, you both made silent promises that were kept to yourselves. Shuri vowed to handle you with care and love. As for you, you vowed to stay beside her side and when things get tough, you stay for her.

#shuri x reader #letitia wright #mcu shuri #shuri x you #shuri x y/n #queen shuri #shuri udaku x reader #shuri black panther #princess shuri #angst with a happy ending

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

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Little Mix admitted that during x factor when the contestants did a charity single with One Direction and JLS, management tried to make the girls film their section of the music video in just underwear while the boys got to wear ordinary clothes. It got me wondering in 1dbandmate!reader ever had to deal with something similiar and how she and the boys would have reacted to it?

loads of times.

Especially since she's the only girl in the band, management wanted to (and often did) take advantage of that. It was a double edged sword for them: portraying her as an innocent girl in frilly skirts but those making those skirts short. Making her walk around in heels to help her be closer to the boys' height for pictures but to also make society's eyes be drawn to her legs.

But one of the first times YN spoke up about something like this was pretty early on in her career: during the WMYB music video.

"No, absolutely not." YN shakes her head, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're out of your fooking mind if you think ima be wearin' that."

Not to mention that this was during the time when they were starting to force the media training on her.

"YN!" Richard, the band's main representative from their management, scolds her as she curses at what her stylist showed her.

Emma knew the singer in front of her wasn't directing her comment towards her personally. She sympathized with her really. How can she blame the seventeen year old's reaction to the tiny pieces of fabric hanging onto the velvet hanger by pieces of strings.

The three of them were inside a huge beach tent used as a designated changing area for the video shoot. After the boy were finished getting dressed and her make-up was finished, it was time for YN's outfit to be shown to her. She was quite excited as it's going to be their first music video and at a sunny location. That was until she was shown what her management arranged for her to wear.

"Whot? Yeh really expect me to wear that when the other girls in the video are fully covered? The other boys are wearing bloody pants for pete's sake!"

"YN," The man in an expensive suit pressed his hands together in a pleading motion. "You are an important piece to this band. You're going to help get One Direction on the map. The band is counting on you--your fans are counting on you." Richard tries to reason.

"Our music is what matters, as a band. And if our fans really are our fans, they wouldn't care what I wear." YN still has her arms crossed over herself when a smirk tugs it's way on her lips. "Matter of fact, why don't we see what the boys think of m'outfit? Hhm?"

Before Richard could get another word out, the stubborn girl snatches the hanger off the rack and stalks her way out the tent. The rest of the band were all hanging out around the red van that would be used in the shoot. They were laughing and kicking around a soccer ball when they see YN quickly approaching them in a bathroom robe with Richard trailing behind her.

"Mate, why aren't yeh dressed yet?" Louis asks, kicking the ball up with and catching it with his hands.

"Oh, just came to give Niall his outfit for the shoot." She tosses the tiny, red, two piece at the blonde lad.

Liam takes the scraps of clothing and tries to de-tangle all the strings. "Wha' the bloody hell is this?"

"S'an eye patch." Zayn laughs, bringing one of the bikini triangles up to his eye.

"Is this what they want you to where?" Harry furrows his eyebrows.

"Like hell you are." Louis turns his attention to Richard who has an arm across his chest while his other hand pinches his nose. "She's not wearin' tha'."

"Every girl in Los Angeles are wearing them. The views you will lads are going to get will be off the charts. Not to mention the exposure you'll receive now that we're in the States."

"Oh trust me, if m'wearin' this, they'll be plenty exposed." And while he chuckles along with the rest of the band behind her, Harry feels his chest heat up in anger. As much as he would secretly love to see her in the bathing suit, he's absolutely furious that they want to force her to wear something so revealing. She's not just a piece of meat to be used, chewed up, and spit out for the sake of the band's publicity.

She's so much more than that.

"I'll wear it if she doesn't want to, Richy." Niall holds the skimpy bikini top to his puffed out chest, his lips dramatically pouted.

Her stylist pipes up from behind the band's management representative, "I do have a back-up outfit planned out for YN."

Richard gives the band one final look, stopping at YN's fiesty, challenging raised eyebrow. He lets out a deep sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand as he walks away. "Emma, get her dressed in whatever you like. We've already wasted too much time on this and we're losing sunlight."

And with that, YN puts on a satisfied smile before spinning on her heel to face the band. "Well done, lads. See yeh lot in a bit."

She gathers the scraps of fabric from Niall's body before Louis and Zayn fully tie it around his back, giving the Irish guy's head a playful shove.

Before she begins to walk back to the tent, she feels a gentle hand on hers.

"Hey, y'alright?" Harry softly questions.

YN doesn't know why she gets little butterflies flapping around in her tummy, but she decides to ignore them and give her band mate a sly smirk. "M'good. The bikini was kinda hot though, wouldn't mind wearin' it to be honest. Just not for this. Maybe when we actually have a holiday here in Malibu, yeah?"

And Harry's super grateful that she leaving promptly after that so that she doesn't see the heat rise to his cheeks.

It's not long until YN and the rest of the boys are all walking along the edge of the shore, singing along to the track as they face the camera.

Other clips in the music video show the band further into the water, trying to beat one of the growing waves.

Another shows Louis throwing her over his shoulder and chucking her in the water.

A clip where they are all running down the white porch steps with bright smiles, YN in the middle.

When the band and the extras (both guys and girls) are gathered around the campfire, Harry gets Niall to 'comically' fall in between YN and another guy with him.

And then the inevitable bridge comes on. YN is paired up with the same actor guy from before to sing her part. Harry has to stand off to the side and watch his crush as she has to get up close and personal with him, bumping noses with the bloke in the way he wishes she could do with him.

But Harry has to admit, his ego is through the roof when after the director yells cut! she's quick to not only put some distance between her and the guy, but walks over to Harry's side.

And when she leans over to him and giggles her next words, he can't help the goofy smile spreading over his lips.

"S'like the bloke's never heard of mint gum before."

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @theekyliepage @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry's house #harry styles concept #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n

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multifariousqueer · 11 months

Text

My Blood- Miles Morales x reader

A/n: y’all better prep for this. This might be the darkest fic I’ve ever written but it’s good. Keep requesting and have a good day❤️

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, angst, mentions of blood, you sobbing 24/7, major angst warnings, it’s just sad man

It seemed the fight went on for a millennia. Miles throwing punches, kicks, venom strikes and none of it seemed to work. This guy was just too powerful and too determined, even for Miles. Every kick and punch just seemed to exhaust Miles more than it did to help, the villain just kept making holes and disorienting him.

“You took everything from me, now; I’m gonna take everyone and everything from you” the ominous voice said to Miles

His voice filled Miles’ head and projected his evil plan. Images of you falling to your death and just as Miles catches you, your spine snaps from the impact, killing you. More horrible images were implanted in Miles’ head of his father saving a child at his own expense, being crushed by rubble. The villains voice echoing in Miles’ head and the horrible images were enough to knock your boyfriend off kilter just long enough for the villain to stab Miles in his stomach. As he felt his vision blur, he saw the villain wave and disappear, leaving Miles to bleed out. Fortunately, he was able to sling a web and come over to your dorm.

It was a warm, summer day; school ending soon and you packing and saying your goodbyes when you heard a harsh knock at your window. You almost didn’t answer it because Miles’ knocks were taps and playful but this sounded pained, like a struggling animal. You ran to your window when you saw him; his suit had a growing stain where there was a piece of glass stuck in it, the eyes on his mask were squinted and he looked like he was dying.

“MILES, Que pasa? What happened? Oh my God you’re bleeding!” You screamed, tears flooding your eyes and slipping down your cheeks as you saw your boyfriend, near death

“ah- mami it’s okay. You can patch it up okay? Everything is okay.” he said in a pained whisper

You did your best to get him out of his suit, cutting around where the shard was and doing your best to not hurt him even though it was impossible. You slipped off his mask to see a black eye, a cut lip and small cuts littering the rest of his face, even with this, he was still the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen and you were so lucky to have him.

When you finally saw the wound, you realized this wasn’t something you could fix. A deep gash, littered with purple around it as it slowly dripped out Miles’ blood greeted you and you knew this could be a mortal wound. Miles kept trying to stay awake for you but he was slipping in and out of conciseness and you did everything you could to relieve him, you iced around the wound, cleaned around it and held it. Eventually you couldn’t take it and neither could he:

“Miles baby we have to go to the hospital"

“no mami no. I’ll be okay-“ Miles started before squinting and slumping over.

“MILES??” You cried, fearing this could be the end.

You dialed 911 and told them the situation, however, they asked how he got hurt like this and you lied saying he was ambushed by gang members. Miles had his eyes closed as he tried to not slump over and die but he could feel his heart slowing and his mind slipping away. All he could do in this time was think about you and what would happen to you and his parents if he died; that was the only thing keeping him from accepting his demise.

After the longest three minutes of your life, they wheeled Miles out on a stretcher and asked you about the gang members that assaulted your beloved and you made up some lie about their faces being covered with shiesty masks. That was enough for them and they saw how scared you were and let you ride with him in the ambulance. Just then, his dad came and saw what was going on:

“Miles? MILES?? THATS MY SON LET ME THROUGH I AM CAPTAIN” He shouted through the crowd of people and health officials.

“Mr. Morales?” you said, through tears. He pulled you into an embrace as you both exchanged tears

“Y/n, what happened?” He asked

“I-I don’t know, he just came home like this” you said, technically it wasn’t a lie

“I’m calling Rio” he said.

When Rio got the call, she fell to her knees and sobbed. She rushed outside to grab a cab before asking how you were. Even in times of peril, you could still count on the fact that the Morales family loved you like one of their own.

The ambulance arrived to the hospital quickly as Miles had an oxygen mask on. His eyes were fluttering open and shut as you held his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles, like he would do to you all the time. You reflected on all of the memories and on all of the moments you two shared together; birthdays, holidays, regular days, school days and the hour when he left you:

“Miles baby be safe. Come home to me, mi Corazon. Te amo” you said, pressing your nose to his and connecting your foreheads for a moment. You always did this and it was your tradition before he went out for a mission

“I’ll come home, hermosa. I promise, I’ll be okay. I love you too” Miles said before pressing a final kiss on your lips and pulling down his mask.

A tear fell down your face as you whispered into his hand:

“God please, I know I don’t worship as much as I should but please, spare the love of my life, I can’t live without him” you said, shaking a bit

“Do you wanna say a prayer, y/n” Jeff asked you

“yeah sure.” as you two said a prayer, hanging onto each of Miles’ hands.

Before you knew it, he was being wheeled into the emergency room where they stripped him and prepped him for surgery. As y’all got out, the nurse told you guys you couldn’t go any further:

“I’m sorry but he is in critical condition and we can’t allow people back there right now. We will give updates as they come” the nurse said

“I’m his father, his mother is on the way, she is a nurse here” Jeff said

“And I’m his girlfriend. He is also my best friend.” you said, feeling slightly inferior

“Okay, good to know and my name is Yelena if you need anything at all” the nurse said

“okay” you and Jeff said in unison

It seemed like you were waiting a lifetime but Rio came in and you guys exchanged words and greetings:

“I remember when he was a small boy. He would always color on the walls and I would tell him ‘parar, Miles!’ and he would say ‘lo siento, mami’ and I would kiss him on the face for using Spanish properly” she chuckled

“so he was always artistic?” you asked with a faint smile

Rio smiled and nodded, wiping a tear from her face as she rubbed your back. You leaned into her because even though she wasn’t your real mom, she never showed it, she treated you like you were her own, even when you and Miles would fight. It seemed that the idea of fighting with Miles was both a luxury and an absurdity.

“Can you guys follow me, please?” Yelena asked

You all followed her to a small room; you knew what this was seeing as whenever someone in your family was about to die, they would take you here and prepare you for the worst.

“So Miles isn’t doing good. We have him on a ventilator and he’s in a coma due to blood loss, we can try to give him a transfusion and medications but it isn’t looking too good. Then again things can change but right now, prepare for the worst” the nurse said grimly

You all sobbed as you couldn’t believe it. This time yesterday, you were on top of him, laughing, and now he was dying. It seemed unfair, like a fever dream you were dying to awake from but it was real. This entire experience was sobering and you were about to lose your soulmate, your, friend, your Miles

Miles POV:

I woke up in a white room, it looks just like my room just white. Pictures of my family, friends and Y/n were scattered about and the only things in color.

“Am I dead?” I questioned

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door and in walked a man that looked strikingly familiar:

“Uncle Aaron?"

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supernaturalscribe67 · 8 months

Text

Against the Grain

Words: 3,059

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Fluff, Language (?), a brief mention of blood

Summary: Ever since the reader has come out to his brothers has transgender, they have been nothing but supportive. The only thing that Dean hasn't been supportive of is the reader's inconsistent facial hair growth. So, Dean comes up with a way to help him by teaching him how to shave.

A/N: I've officially hit over 30,000 words on my blog and I honestly have no idea how to feel about it...Feedback is greatly appreciated! Much love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Are suits always so itchy?

Granted, he didn’t know if he would feel the same if they had gotten his outfit from a retailer that specialized in men’s formalwear instead of the old Goodwill a couple of towns over, but they needed something quick and easy. It didn’t help that he wasn’t able to wash it between cases either, but he was thankful nonetheless. Sam and Dean had promised that they would take him to get fitted for a professional suit on their way back to the bunker.

James Garrison would kindly pay, of course.

When (Y/N) came out to his brothers as transgender, he didn’t know what kind of reaction he was expecting from them. All of the negativity that was brought upon them from early childhood had clouded his judgment on how they would respond to such dramatic news. He had kept it a secret from them for about three years as a result of the anxiety, already having trouble coming to terms with his new self-discovery. Alas, two years ago, when he had gathered up all of his courage and sat his brothers down to explain in grave detail what was going on inside of his head, they were nothing but supportive.

It was an adjustment at first, with Dean having the hardest time with getting pronouns correct and slipping up on the name change, but (Y/N) could tell that he was doing his best, and that was all that mattered. He got better after a couple of months and had abandoned (Y/N)’s deadname and old pronouns completely in favor of his newly updated ones. (Y/N) could tell that Dean was proud of himself, and he was proud of him too. Sam, being the nerd that he is, wanted to learn more about transgenderism. He would ask his brother questions and scour the endless medical journals available online if (Y/N) couldn’t answer the ones that he had. He even went as far as to help (Y/N) find the perfect binder and get him set up with an appointment to start testosterone. Thanks to Sam, (Y/N) had been on testosterone for almost a year-and-a-half.

With the use of testosterone came changes, changes that he wasn’t necessarily expecting. He was constantly starving, constantly horny, and hair was growing everywhere on his body. Everywhere. Even though he didn’t mind the hair growth in some places, one place that the hair seemed to be lacking in growth was on his face, the place where he had wanted it to grow the most. He had a couple of scraggly pieces here and there, most of the hair growth being on his sideburns and underneath his chin, none of the patches consistent in length. Still, every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but smile. He had finally started to feel like his true self. Like he was starting to morph into the person he was destined to be.

And he couldn’t be happier.

(Y/N) emerged from the poorly lit motel bathroom, combing the sides of his hair with his fingertips. Sam and Dean stood in the center of the room, clad in their mock FBI uniforms. When they heard (Y/N) exit the bathroom, they turned their attention to him. It was the first time that he felt confident enough to dress as an agent on a case, and he was a little uncertain about his appearance. He wanted to make sure he looked professional enough to pass. It was a big change compared to when he only had to wear a blouse and pencil skirt. He didn’t miss those days.

With his arms held out in a grandiose gesture, he gave a small smile. “What do you think? Do I look okay?” He asked with a tone that indicated his uncertainty.

Sam and Dean eyed him, their gaze scanning from the top of his head to his shoes. Sam nodded.

“Yeah, you look great,” he commented, a smirk curled up in the corner of his lips.

Dean, on the other hand, furrowed his brows. “You look like a douchebag.”

Sam slapped Dean’s shoulder. “Dude,” he hissed.

“What?” He held his hands up.

(Y/N) frowned and looked down at himself. “Why do I look like a douchebag?” He asked, his shoulders slouched to show his disappointment.

“You don’t look like a douchebag,” Sam shook his head rapidly.

“Yes, he does! It’s because of that little neck beard you have going on.” Dean gestured to his face.

(Y/N) slowly ran his fingers through the hair under his chin, neck, and sides of his face. “What’s wrong with my facial hair?” His voice was quiet.

“(Y/N), don’t listen to him, there is nothing wrong-” Sam began.

“Sam,” Dean interrupted before looking back at (Y/N). “Look, FBI agents need to be clean to make it more believable. You look like a kid who just got out of a nightlong session playing that…that…War of Worlds or whatever.”

“World of Warcraft?” (Y/N) arched a brow.

“Yeah, that. You gotta shave it.”

“I don’t know how,”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam was quick to interrupt. He was sending Dean the deadliest of glares. “Dean, we don’t have time for him to do that. He looks great. He doesn’t need to change anything. Let’s just go, and, if it makes you feel any better, we can say he’s a rookie.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.” He mumbled before he turned back to (Y/N). “But when we get back, I’ll show you have to shave properly.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) nodded.

Dean and Sam then turned and made their way out of the motel. (Y/N) stopped for a moment and returned a hand to his face. He felt the patches of long hair caress his fingertips while the patches of stubble made his hand itch. He scowled.

“I’m not a rookie,” he mumbled to himself before he followed after his brothers.

“Alright,” Dean grumbled as he pushed the stopper into the sink. He proceeded to fill the basin up with warm water. “Now, one thing that you need to know is that you never, under any circumstances, share razors. Lucky for you, I packed a spare one.” He smiled as he pulled a new razor out of his pocket, handing it off to (Y/N).

(Y/N) glanced down at the razor. It was one of the cheap ones. One that you would find in a pack of ten or fifteen in a Walmart. The plastic was still hooked onto the side of the blade. (Y/N) took off the plastic bit and tossed it into the small trashcan in the corner of the room.

“What happens if you share razors?” (Y/N) asked.

“You can get an infection. You don’t know how clean someone else’s face is, and if you nick yourself, then you’ll be in a lot of pain. Trust me, Sammy and I learned a lot about that when we were younger.” He chuckled. “Okay, the first thing you want to do is get your face wet.”

Dean set his razor to the side and dipped his hands into the warm water. He leaned his head downward, brought his cupped hand up to his face, and wet his jaw. When he pulled his hand away, droplets fell into the sink below. He then looked at (Y/N), who raised his brows before he followed suit. He dipped his hands into the water, lowered his head, and brought some water to his face. His facial hair clung to his jawline as water dripped from his chin.

“Right, what I like to do now,” Dean reached down and picked up his razor. He looked in the mirror and tilted his head to the side so that he could fully see the right side of his face. “Is…make a mark on both of my sideburns where the hair meets the face.”

Dean reached the razor up and cut a small portion of his stubble near the hairline. It was only about an inch or two worth of hair. When he was done with the right side, he turned his head and did the same for the left side. He rinsed the razor in the water.

“You got it?” He raised a brow.

(Y/N) looked at himself in the mirror, turning his head from side to side. He furrowed his brows and hesitantly reached his razor up. He stopped before the razor could touch his face. “Where do I cut?” He asked timidly.

Dean sat his razor down and turned to his brother. He looked in the mirror, into his eyes, before he looked back at the side of his head. “You’re gonna wanna cut right…” he trailed as he reached up and ran his finger along the side of his face, about a third of the way down his ear. “Here.”

(Y/N) reached his hand up and allowed the razor to levitate above the spot Dean had pointed. “Here?”

“Yeah, right there. And don’t be shy about it. You’ve got this.”

(Y/N) glanced at Dean before giving a small nod. He then turned and looked in the mirror. He brought the razor to his face and made a small mark on his sideburns, the same as Dean had done with his. Once he was done with the first mark, he looked at his brother. Dean smiled softly at him, confirming that he had done it correctly. (Y/N) then tilted his head to the other side, repeating the process. When he was done, he rinsed his razor, just like Dean had, and looked towards him expectedly.

“Good, good,” Dean nodded before he reached over to the corner of the sink. He picked up a can of shaving cream, popped the top off, and sprayed a dollop into his hands. He held out the can towards (Y/N), who held out one hand for him. Dean sprayed some of the shaving cream into his hand before he set it on the counter and placed the cap back on. “Now, you want to make sure to cover every part of your face where the hair grows. Just watch and do what I do.”

(Y/N) gave a small nod and watched as Dean began to apply the shaving cream onto his face, starting with his right cheek before moving down his jawline and to the other. (Y/N) followed his movements exactly. The shaving cream felt different against his face, it was wet and cold, yet soft at the same time. He remembered times at the end of some school years, when he was younger, when the teacher would give them shaving cream on their desks to help clean the surfaces. He remembered drawing faces in the shaving cream, pictures of cartoon ghosts and cats. They proceeded to apply the shaving cream over their cupid’s bows, onto their chins, and their necks. When Dean was done, he rinsed his hand in the water, (Y/N) followed.

“Alright, the moment of truth,” Dean smiled at him as he picked up his razor. “We’ll start with the face and then make our way down to the neck. Just follow my lead, okay? I’ll go slow.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) nodded and picked up his razor.

Both of them turned to face the mirror. (Y/N) stared at his reflection for a moment, a part of him noting how humorous he looked with the beard of shaving cream before his eyes shifted over to Dean. As Dean began to shave his face, (Y/N) copied his movements. Every time Dean rinsed his razor in the sink, (Y/N) did as well. Everywhere Dean put his razor, (Y/N) put his.

It was a strange sensation, shaving. Since it was his first time, (Y/N) didn’t know how he felt about it. From the curl of his lip when he had to shave his cupid’s bow and chin, to the feeling of the shaving cream slowly running down his neck. It was new, but not disliked. It was easy enough, easier since he was following the live tutorial next to him. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander, though. Let his mind think back to the times when he was younger and watching from some random bathroom doorframe as Dean taught Sam to shave for the first time. Dean held the same expressions on his face back then when he taught Sam as now. A sort of proud, grown expression, giving (Y/N) the first taste of realization that Dean was the one who raised them, not their father. Fathers were supposed to teach their sons how to shave their faces for the first time, not the older brothers. It was almost as if Dean adapted the fatherly role in (Y/N) and Sam’s lives. (Y/N) would never forget that.

(Y/N) hissed. “Dammit,” he mumbled as he pulled the razor away from his face.

He looked in the mirror and could see a small, red circle appear on his left cheek. It had been the last strip of facial hair left. He had been doing so well up until then.

Dean’s head turned towards him before he let out a chuckle. He placed his razor down on the sink and leaned down to snag a small piece of cheap toilet paper. He moved over to his brother and tilted his head so that he could see the nick. Gingerly, he placed the piece of toilet paper onto the red mark. It stuck instantly to (Y/N)’s face.

“There we go,” Dean smirked and turned back to the sink. “Not bad on the face. One nick is pretty good for your first time. Now, onto the neck.”

(Y/N) did the same for his neck as he had done for his face, glancing in the mirror at his reflection while, now and then, turning to study his brother’s movements. He shaved his neck without incident, and when he rinsed his razor for the last time in the basin, the water now clouded with a mixture of hair and shaving cream, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He felt proud of himself. When Dean set his razor down, so did (Y/N). They looked at their reflections and examined themselves.

“And you're done,” Dean nodded. “All we have to do is rinse our faces,” Dean reached over, turned on the warm water from the tap, and cupped his hands to rinse off the rest of the shaving cream. Once Dean was finished, (Y/N) copied. “And we’re done.” Dean smiled at (Y/N) in the mirror.

When (Y/N) looked at his freshly shaven face, he ran his fingers over the places where the hair had been. The skin was smooth, something that he was going to have to get used to again, and he looked younger, in his opinion. The corner of his lips curled downwards in a frown.

“I look like a baby,” he mumbled.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “No, you don’t. You look like a new man. Hey, facial hair grows back fast, and it’ll grow back a little more even this time. If you wanna keep it, I can show you how to shave around it when it does, to keep you looking clean and not like some homeless guy.”

“Really?” (Y/N) raised his brows.

“Of course. As long as you promise not to grow out a lumberjack beard or anything,” Dean dramatically shivered.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No promises,” he chuckled.

“Oh!” Dean exclaimed. “Almost forgot. Aftershave!”

“Aftershave?”

“Yeah,” Dean reached over to the bottle that sat next to the shaving cream can. It was a small, green bottle of Brut. He splashed some into the palm of his hand before he put some in (Y/N)’s. He placed the bottle onto the counter and capped it. “It helps with those stupid razor burns and bumps.”

(Y/N) nodded as he looked down at the liquid in his hand. The scent was strong, and he recognized it as something Dean smelled of often. He, once again, copied Dean’s movements as Dean began to massage the liquid into his face and onto his neck. When (Y/N) massaged it onto his left cheek, he felt his skin begin to burn when it ran into the small nick on his face. Dean smirked.

“Burns, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, why the hell does it burn?”

Dean shrugged. “Not too sure. You’ll get used to it. And once you stop cutting yourself while shaving, it won’t burn as bad.”

(Y/N) grimaced and continued to rub it in until all he could smell was the Brut and his entire face had been covered. Dean lowered his hands and unplugged the sink. The clouded water began to drain.

“There, now we’re officially done. What do you think?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Not bad. I could get used to it, but I look stupid with this tissue on my face.”

“Oh, here,” Dean reached over and carefully took the wet paper off of his cut. “See? It’s like you didn’t even cut yourself.”

“Wow…” (Y/N) turned his face back and forth, examining the spots where the hair used to be.

“Now you can shave by yourself whenever you want. We just need to get you your own razors, and I can show you how to use an electric one when we get back to the bunker if you want.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, his smile never faltering.

An identical smile made its way onto (Y/N)’s lips as he looked over at Dean. “Thanks, Dean. You’re a great big brother,” he spoke quietly.

Dean tilted his head down, narrowing his eyes. “What was that?”

“I said ‘You’re a great big brother’.” He spoke a little louder that time.

“Come again?” Dean cupped one of his hands behind his ear.

“You’re pushing it, Dean.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean laughed as he reached over and wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) placed his arms around Dean’s torso and hugged him tightly. “For the record, you’re the best little brother a guy could ask for. Just don’t tell Sam.”

(Y/N) smiled even wider. “I won’t.”

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Across The Darkened Room {5}

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader || Modern AU Summary: The Targaryen family dinner gives you a deeper insight into Aemond and why he needs the control that comes with being a dom. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, almost safe word use WC: 3.2k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six ||

You felt like a princess in the long gossamer gown made from thin layers of black lace over an emerald green shift that let the different shades shine through with each step. Aemond wore emerald cufflinks with his suit and a matching tie so that he complimented you as he stepped up behind you in the mirror.

You turned with a frown as you found a leather patch covering his sapphire and gently traced the dragon emblem embossed into the material. “Do you always cover it when you see your family?”

“No,” he laughed softly. “Cardinal rule of fashion; blue and green must never be seen.”

That made more sense than thinking he was hiding a piece of himself.

“Turn around,” Aemond ordered and you spun back to the mirror as he reached into his pocket to pull out a large teardrop emerald hanging on a thin gold chain. He draped the necklace around you and the gem was cool and heavy against your skin as he clasped it before letting it slip further into your cleavage. “Beautiful.”

You lifted the gem up and smiled at how the light danced off each facet before turning and wrapping your arms around his narrow waist. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he replied softly. “It has been a long time since I went to a family dinner, I don’t think I could face it alone.”

“Why’s that?” you asked but he just smiled ruefully and shook his head.

At the highest point of King’s Landing was the original Red Keep, but the red brick building had turned to ruin a long time ago and had been replaced with a modern mansion that still held the formidable presence of the old keep you had seen in museum paintings. There was even an archway that Aemond drove beneath to reach a courtyard with a beautiful fountain in the centre where a valet was waiting to take the keys to his car.

“So this is where you grew up,” you uttered in amazement as you looked up at the towering walls.

Aemond laced his fingers into yours and stepped towards the enormous wooden doors that swung open with the help of two footmen. He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles as he gently murmured, “It may look nice on the outside but don’t let it fool you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the ominous tone and you wanted to ask more but he tugged your hand and towed you into the heart of the mansion. You expected to hear his family as he navigated through the halls but if anything the sounds in the home grew quieter. It wasn’t until he reached a staircase and led the way down that you voiced your concern.

“I know you grew up here, Aemond, but this place is huge. We aren’t lost are we?”

He grabbed a brass door handle and turned it with a chuckle of amusement. “I need to get a little lost before I face what’s waiting in there.”

Your lips parted to find out what he meant when he pulled you into the dimly lit room and crashed his lips to yours. You cast your arms out to stabilise you as he backed you to the wall and you found dozens of wine bottlenecks pressing into you. The breath in your lungs was lost to a blissful sigh when he grazed his teeth over your racing pulse and pulled the skirt of your dress over your hips.

You were grateful that the doctor had given your test results yesterday as you knew for a fact there was no condom in your clutch and Aemond had left his wallet in his car. It meant there was nothing hindering him from pulling the delicate lace panties aside and filling you with his cock.

You both moaned as he hooked your leg over his hip and slipped inside you with no preparation, the sweet burn of the stretch tipping your head back with a mewling cry. The shelves rattled and the bottles tinkled with every hard thrust and you felt the bruises already forming from each cork that dug into your back. It was a far cry from the controlled sexual experience you had received so far.

“Shhh,” he whispered as he pressed his forefinger to his lips with a smile.

Your hands roamed under Aemond’s untucked shirt and he growled as your nails clawed him closer, you were not used to being able to touch him when your hands were normally restrained. The touch seemed to unleash him as he threw his head back and fucked you harder, until the pain in your back no longer danced with pleasure and the safe word came to mind.

Aemond froze as saw you wince and his mind came crashing back to his body, almost like he had lost himself to the feeling of being buried inside you. “Shit, shit, Sweetpea, I’m sorry,” he muttered as he pulled out and left you empty.

He turned you around and unzipped your dress to see the many cork circles across your back. His lips were cold against the marks that were growing hotter and he kissed each one until you were squirming for more and the ebbing pain was once more pleasurable. Your hips had a mind of their own as they pushed back in search of friction.

“Please, Aemond,” you whined.

His voice was strained as he gripped your hips and kept them from touching him as he warned you, “I’m not in control.”

You turned and placed a hand on his chest as you looked up at his closed eye. The eye peeked open as you pushed him back to a leather chair that was tucked into the corner of the room by a tasting rack. “Then let me take control.”

He looked wary as he fell back into the seat but he let you straddle his hips and he bit his lip as you impaled yourself on his cock. You gripped the headrest beside him and rolled your hips, riding him as he held the armrests in a death grip. His nails carved half moons into the leather and you could see the strain in his whiteknuckles as he fought to keep his hands there and to not mark your skin.

You pushed the long sleeves of your dress back and placed his hand on the soft flesh of your forearm in silent permission. His hips bucked as he drew his nails down the skin and you cried out at the bolt of lightning that slammed into your core, clenching around him.

Your walls began to flutter as you bounced on his cock and he fought the dress away so he could press the pad of his thumb to your clit. The added pressure of his thumb was all you needed to fall over the edge when his other hand clamped over your mouth to silence the cries that erupted.

“Fuck,” Aemond grunted as your teeth closed around his hand in the throes of your orgasm and he came with a curse, the heat of his seed filling your cunt. “You bit me.”

You dipped your head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m used to biting leather.”

He tipped your chin back and kissed your pouting lips. “I liked it.”

After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, Aemond finally led you to the large reception room where his family were gathered around a bar. There were more people than he had said there would be and you looked at him nervously, forgetting most of the names you had tried so hard to remember on the way over.

Your own concern was lost as you saw the colour drain from his face and his graceful walk stopped midstep. A flash of some dark horror flitted across his face before all emotion was void and his fingers tightened around yours as his family turned to face him.

“I didn’t realise he would be here,” a woman hissed as her fingers threatened to snap the stem of the crystal wine glass in her hand. “Daemon, children, let’s go.”

You looked between the woman and Aemond, recognising the familial traits in their hair and eyes. His fingers tightened around yours even more and you suppressed the groan that was building as you watched his jaw tick and his teeth clench together.

“This is Aemond’s home, Rhaenyra, of course he would be here,” Alicent said as she stood up and reached for her son’s other hand.

Rhaenyra turned to the large fireplace adorned by stone dragons as she spoke quietly, “It used to be mine.” She turned back with a hardness in her eyes and waved her hand to her four children and her husband standing together. “It was a mistake to come here, it’s still too soon.”

The family swept from the room and Daemon ran his hand along the suit jacket he wore. You had seen enough concealed guns in Flea Bottom to know the lines that appeared in the material were not the work of a poor seamstress. A streak of fear had you inching behind Aemond’s back and he switched hands so you could still hold him as he turned until everyone was out of sight.

The tension seemed to be released with a burst as the doors closed behind the other guests and you sagged against Aemond’s back with relief. It was short lived as he stepped aside and you were face to face with his mother.

Your mouth was dry and you licked your lips quickly before holding your hand out to introduce yourself, “I’m -”

“I know exactly who you are,” Alicent said with a sigh. “You are the reason my son has foolishly hired a group of street criminals, from what I understand. He must care for you a great deal.”

“I tried to stop him,” you said with a grimace, “but he can be quite…”

“Stubborn?” Alicent offered with a small smile. “Yes, I know my son well. Which is why I know you must be something special, he’s never brought a girl home before.”

You looked to Aemond with a cocked brow but he just smirked and took two flutes of champagne from the sommelier that brought them over.

You looked to Aemond with a cocked brow but he just smirked and took two flutes of champagne from the sommelier that brought them over. He handed one to you without a comment and drifted off to greet his sister, his smile encouraging you as he went.

“I’m sorry that our first meeting didn’t exactly go to plan,” Alicent said as she looked at the closed door. “Things have been strained between Aemond and his half sister for some time. I was hoping they could break bread tonight.”

“What happened between them?” you asked after taking a sip of the bitter bubbles and glancing at Aemond across the room.

“That is not my story to tell, I’m afraid.” She placed her hand on your forearm and you almost flinched as she touched the claw marks her son had left behind. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to let the maids know to remove some place settings for dinner. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

She had barely moved two steps when a pair of familiar hands fell upon your hips and his lips pressed to the curve of your jaw with a rather sedate kiss as he whispered, “That went well.”

“Did it?” you asked nervously before turning to the butler as he rang a bell and announced dinner was ready. “I don’t think I can stomach food right now.”

Aemond’s hands travelled up your back until he reached your shoulders and massaged the tightness away. “You have to eat something, Sweetpea. I’m more than happy to find some way to entice you.”

You felt the rich timber of his voice all the way to your core and shivered at the devilish thoughts of just how he might do that. “I guess I could eat something.”

You took a seat on Aemond’s right and smiled at each of his siblings as you were officially introduced. Aegon grinned like a cheshire cat as he reached over from the other side of Aemond to shake hands. You gasped in surprise when he shoved your sleeve back and saw the four raised bumps the width of Aemond’s nails.

“My, my,” he teased as his brother pushed him back into his seat. “Not exactly the track marks I was looking for.” Aegon turned to Aemond and raised his glass. “She is addicted to something else entirely.”

“Aegon,” Alicent chided, though she sighed with the exhaustion of a mother who had been repeating herself for years. Aemond’s mother did glance back at your arms a few times with concern as you slipped your hands under the table and planted them on your lap.

“Excuse me,” you murmured after the second course of tiny portions was cleared. Aemond rose with you but you shook your head as you assured him, “I can remember my way to the ladies, if not I have Maps on my phone.”

Helaena giggled behind her napkin and Aemond settled back in his chair but you felt his eye on you until the dining room door closed behind you.

You took your time in the bathroom, checking your makeup and delaying the inevitable, when the door opened and Alicent strolled in. She closed the door behind her and leant against it with a heavy sigh.

“Did my son do that to you?” she asked so quietly you almost couldn’t hear her and she covered her mouth with a sob. “Oh god.”

“I, I don’t know what you mean.”

She pushed off the door and pulled your sleeve back, exposing the marks as tears fell over her thick lashes. “You poor thing. Come, I’ll get you somewhere safe - away from here and him.”“No! No, that’s not necessary,” you said as you fought against the hold on your wrist. “Really, it’s not like that. He’s not abusing me.”

“I’m not blind,” she said, pointing to your arm that you had already hidden once more. “I don’t know what he’s promised you to keep quiet and I don’t care, you don’t have to live like this.”

“I know, Alicent.” You scratched your neck nervously at the thought of having to explain how you received the wounds. “It’s really not what you think. Aemond and I just get a little too passionate, if you know what I mean. He really is the kindest, most generous man I have ever met and would never do anything I didn’t want to do.”

Alicent reeled back in realisation and she clutched the medallion hanging over her chest. “Oh, oh heavens. So, you and he…I don’t need to call my contact at Women’s Refuge?”

“God no, please don’t,” you said with a laugh that eased her tension further. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with Aemond.”

“That's a relief, though I have questions I don’t think I want to know the answers to.”

You nodded in agreement and she wiped her eyes before she opened the door just as Aemond arrived ready to knock. He looked between his mother and you twice before he dared to ask, “Everything alright?”

You didn’t trust your voice as you squeaked a ‘mhmm’ and stepped out of the bathroom, into his arms.

“We were just getting to know one another,” Alicent said with a smile. “In fact, you should come to high tea on Sunday, it’s just us ladies and we could do with fresh blood.”

The invitation made Aemond smile so you couldn’t help but tentatively accept. “I work Sundays but I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

She seemed a little thrown that you worked a day job, as if she momentarily forgot that although you wore the designer dress and expensive necklace you were not a lady of leisure or a trust fund baby. Imposter syndrome came hurtling back as you took your seat at the table and found your appetite had evaporated like the woodsmoke that the chef had poured over the platter of cheeses.

Aemond’s hand found yours under the table and you clutched it like a life raft in the vast ocean. You only started to relax when his thumb drew soothing circles and he waved his free hand to the waiter to top up your glass.

“You’re doing great, Sweetpea. Not much longer and we can get out of here.”

—

The valet pulled around the fountain and you frowned as the night lights hit his Mercedes, something was off with the perfect paint. Only it wasn’t perfect anymore.

Murderer.

The word has been scratched deep into the paint and you gasped at the sight. Aemond had frozen in place, his eye fixed on the ruined door panel as the valet apologised profusely. He had no idea who did it or how it had happened but swore security could check the garage cameras.

“Don’t bother,” Aemond all but growled as he swiped his keys from the young man. “I know exactly who it was.”

After he closed your door he walked back around to his side, his eye boring into the word spread across his door. You tried to read the myriad of emotions that washed over his face but they were too quick to dissect. Finally, he ripped his door open and shoved the key in the ignition.

The silence was tense as he drove south of King’s Landing and along the coastal highway that led to the city of Storm’s End. After miles of winding roads you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What was that about?” you asked, but he remained quiet as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Aemond, can you please explain what happened tonight?”

His lips pressed into a thin line and you weren’t sure that he would ever give you an answer but then they parted with a deep inhale.

“The men in my family have always been competitive, even as boys. It was how I lost my eye to begin with, a play fight between children that just…escalated. I never forgave Luke for it, not entirely, but we were still family.” He sighed and pulled over at a car park to one of the many lookouts over the cliffs. “When he got his licence, I challenged him to race.”

He unbuckled his seat and stepped out into the night as you rushed around to meet him at the safety rail that was supposed to keep cars from falling over the cliff face. In the dark you couldn’t see how far down the sea was but you could hear the waves crashing upon the rocks below.

“Two adolescents with million dollar sports cars, what could possibly have gone wrong?” he asked bitterly before turning to you and pulling his eyepatch off and tossing it into the abyss. “I just wanted to win. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.”

“Oh, Aemond,” you said softly as you took his hand.

“I lost control,” he whispered to the night. “I lost control and he died because of it. My own nephew died because of me.”

You lifted his hand to your face and pressed your lips to his knuckles as you cupped his damp cheek in the other. “It was an accident, Aemond. You are not a murderer. Trust me, murderers ran the streets where I grew up and you are nothing like them. Nothing, you hear me. You are too kind and good.”

You reached into his pocket and took the keys, gripping them tighter when he reached for them. “It has been an emotional day. Please, let me drive you home. Let me take care of you.”

Click here for chapter six.

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kaeyx · 19 days

Note

been thinking about putting reader in a suit. it could a pantsuit, tuxedo, three piece, whatever you feel good in, and Dazai and Chuuya are drooling. how dare you look so sexy and powerful? all they can think about is being on their knees for you, your fingers tightly wound in their hair, yanking their head closer to your sex. their minds are going fuzzy, and their fancy dress pants have a growing wet patch at the crotch as they suck and lap at your most sensitive parts. both of them are aching to hear you moan, telling them how good they're making you feel and how exactly you're going to fuck them even stupider afterwards <3

Ooooooh yes, especially if you're the kind to wear more business casual clothes like a sweater and roomier slacks, because you spend most of the day sat down and you don't need tight, uncomfortable clothes. But for whatever reason you have to dress up, probably a business dinner or an important meeting, and bring out the fancy suit. A three piece maybe, with a tailored vest that hugs your waist and pants that fit snug around your ass and thighs. Christ skk can't keep their eyes off you. The line of your shoulders and back showing through your shirt, your body moving as you shrug off your jacket and hang it off your chair, your hands adjusting your tie and brushing back your hair. Chuuya keeps bouncing his leg to adjust his cock, uncomfortably stiff in his boxers, and Dazai has to tuck his into his waistband. You look gathered, composed, smooth and powerful, sure of yourself, it's so new to them.

If they weren't already so into you this would have definitely done it, skk trade one look and already know what they're both thinking. Dazai is scanning the venue for any secluded staff doors or bathrooms, Chuuya has his hand around your waist and is keeping everyone away- sneaking in a few squeezes and starting to drool at the smell of your cologne. The moment they can they've got you backed against a secluded corner, both of them crowding between your legs and working on undoing your belt, mouthing at you through your slacks. Dazai shamelessly humps your polished dress shoe, a dazed smile on his face as he begs you to pull on his hair and throw him around. Chuuya's mouth is too busy to speak but his hands are tight around your thighs, making sure you can't go anywhere until he's gotten his fill.

#dazai.bsd #chuuya.bsd #poly!skk

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haven-dark · 2 months

Text

Idk what to do with this but it's gonna spontaneously combust if I just let it sit in my drive, so I guess I'm just gonna put it here for now?

A little scene(s) I whipped up after a discussion with some friends about the idea of middle-aged Stu and Billy moving into a picturesque suburban town and their neighbors slowly getting suspicious as people go missing.

---

The neighborhood’s newest resident easily has fifteen years on the most recent Mrs. Jones, but so does her husband, and Dennis doesn't have a smoothly sculpted jawline and lusciously thick head of dark hair.

The moving truck is still mostly full when she comes by with her youngest stepson in tow. “Mason, leave the bugs alone,” she orders, taking his little arm firmly and dragging him away from a beached earthworm and towards the new neighbor's house.

She fluffs her curls and double checks her lipstick in a car mirror before approaching the man from behind.

“I was wondering when the new family would arrive,” she says as a greeting. “The sign said sold for a little bit there.”

He glances at the lawn sign bearing the fake smile of the fake blonde who’d been responsible for selling the place. She’s one of those PTA bitches, but Cassidy is sure that she told them every charming story they could possibly want to hear about how great Arbor Village is. “Yeah, some stuff took longer than expected to sort out.”

“Can we go home now?” Mason whines.

“It's not nice to interrupt grown-ups,” she reprimands. She looks to the man apologetically, but he seems unbothered. “Kids,” she chuckles. She bends to pick Mason up so she can sneak a look at the man's left hand. No ring. “Do you have any?”

“I've got these three.” He raps the knuckles of his right hand, which does sport a couple of rings, against the cab window. Three canine faces appear on cue, a small light one squished between the larger, darker two.

She giggles at the reveal. “So no human children? How about a wife?” she ventures.

“No wife,” he says. “And these three are more than enough.” His head is tilted toward the window, and she lets her eyeline drop to his lips as he talks. They look soft.

He looks back to her more quickly than she’d expected and she’s sure that she’s been caught. She blushes slightly. He turns his full focus on her, looks her up and down.

Having had no specific plans of running into a charming older bachelor, she hadn’t selected her outfit for Mason’s park day very intentionally. Her workout pants are visibly faded and she’s pretty sure this jacket has that collection of stains speckled along the bottom, but she doesn’t want to check and draw attention to it.

His gaze is intense. It feels a little like he’s peering into her, breaking her into her components with his dark eyes so he can review each piece. Despite starting to overheat as she stands in a patch of sun in her sweats, she feels a little naked. She doesn’t dislike it.

If he concludes his assessment with a negative impression of her, he gives no sign of it. He rubs his beard and gives her a warm smile before offering his ringed hand for her to shake. “I'm Billy.” His grip is almost gentle for the rugged look of him, though it's strong. She doesn’t want to take her hand back, so she lets it linger as long as she thinks she can get away with it.

“Cassidy Jones. Although,” she offers, “friends call me Sid.”

His eyebrows go up slightly. “Sid,” he repeats, and she wants to melt at the sound of it. She loves the way it drips off his tongue, almost musically. “That’s great. It suits you.”

She blushes again, pleasantly this time. “Well, thank you, Billy.” Mason’s been patting and grabbing at her to get her attention, though he’s miraculously stopped talking, like he was told. She irritably sets him back on the ground. “You know, by the time you get all of this unpacked it’s going to be far too late to start cooking, and you should really have a home cooked meal on your first day in town. If you’d like–”

“Who’s this, Babe?” A second man appears by Billy, wrapping an arm around him from behind and setting his chin on Billy’s shoulder. He’s at least as attractive as Billy, but the way his eyes scan over Cassidy makes her feel like she’s being not just undressed but completely skinned.

Billy smirks downward, to himself, then looks over his shoulder. “Stu, this is our neighbor from across the street. Sid.”

There’s something unsettling in the grin Stu responds with. “Nice t’meet ya, Sid.”

She wants to retract the invitation to the nickname, but she can’t just ask one of them not to use it. “You too,” she says, because it’s just the thing to say. She lifts Mason back up, ready to exit the conversation.

But Billy continues it. “She was just inviting us over for dinner tonight, so we can have a home cooked meal on our first night in town.” Shit. Yet another invitation she’d offered too early and can’t rescind. “Isn’t that nice?” He looks at her again, even though the question is clearly directed to his partner. His smile is so kind that she wonders for a second if she really wants to take it back, but she hopes that they’ll make a polite attempt at declining so she can use it as a window to renegotiate.

“Oh, that’s really generous,” Stu says. “Putting yourself out like that for a couple of strangers.”

She feels like Mason’s worm, wriggling here in the sun, so close to safety, but unable to get out of this alone. The sad irony is the only ones who can release her are the ones who put her here in the first place. And at least one of them seems set on watching her squirm.

Billy’s turned to look at Stu on his shoulder again. “It might be late by the time we finish unpacking…”

Cassidy tries to wedge herself back into the conversation at that moment, but Stu’s too quick to close off the opening. “Don’t do that. Look how uncomfortable she is. You’re being so rude to turn down a neighborly welcome.” He gives a broad smile and tells her, “We’d love to come.”

---

Stu watches Billy, standing in the street in front of the moving truck, through the half-shut kitchen blinds as he sets a stack of boxes on the otherwise empty counter. He can tell by the body language that he’s talking to someone, but it takes a second for her to swoop into his line of vision as she bends to pick up a small boy.

Some neighborhood mom here to chat him up. Of course. What is it with moms and Billy? They’re fucking magnetized to him anywhere he goes. Stu had been inside for all of a minute and she’d just materialized.

She’s cute, too, with a mess of dark curls and a set of curves that aren’t completely swallowed up by the track suit she’s wearing. Billy’s probably going to flirt back just so Stu can catch him doing it. He’s such a little shit.

Billy makes eye contact with him through both of the truck’s windows just as he steps out onto the front porch. “No wife,” he says to the woman, with a smirk at Stu.

Fucking asshole. Predictable but still infuriating.

As soon as he knows Stu’s seen him, he turns back to the woman, angling his body so Stu can watch in profile as he roughly rubs at his facial hair, a move women for some reason seem to find charming.

Stu fumes for a moment before charging over to make his entrance and mark his territory.

“Who’s this, Babe?” He adds the pet name with a slight emphasis as he slips a possessive arm around Billy’s midsection. He sets his chin on Billy’s shoulder as if in an affectionate embrace, but he lets its point and his fingertips push just a little too hard into Billy to make sure he gets the message.

He plasters on a friendly smile as his eyes devour the woman in front of him, not hungrily but angrily. Maybe a little hungrily. She really is cute. A little young for his taste, but definitely something he could have been into a decade ago.

When his eyes return to hers, he can see that she’s recalculated the scenario and realized her mistake. That’s right, bitch, he broadcasts telepathically. This is mine.

Billy’s looking at the ground, silently laughing to himself. Stupid asshole’s gotten exactly what he wanted. He turns to look at Stu and the broadcast changes to, You’re gonna fucking pay for this later, you dick.

“Stu, this is our neighbor from across the street,” Billy introduces, the stupid smirk still tugging on the corner of his mouth. He pauses, just slightly, and adds an emphasis that probably only Stu can pick up on as he delivers the name. “Sid.”

He’s still pissed at Billy, but he can’t contain the grin that splits his face at the coincidence. He’d thought he was so funny picking a town called Arbor Village because of its parallel to their hometown. But to have the first neighbor they meet be called Sid? That was too good. He couldn’t have scripted it any better.

“Nice t’meet ya, Sid.” He eyes her again and, maybe he’s imagining it, but he can even see a certain resemblance to the Prescott women in her face. Especially when her eyes widen and brow furrows as he smiles down at her. She looks enticingly like a spooked deer.

She picks up her kid as she’s returning the greeting like she’s about to make a run for it. Billy gives a watch this grin sideways at him before showing off the trap he’d built while Stu was away.

“She was just inviting us over for dinner tonight.” Stu shares his grin. The sentence shackles the woman to the spot in front of them. “So we can have a home cooked meal on our first night in town. Isn’t that nice?”

Sid’s no longer merely spooked. When he looks back to her, she’s a caged animal, looking across the street to freedom through invisible bars. She, seemingly unconsciously, takes a step backward. There’s a plea in her eyes for them to let her go, but to uninvite them would be so impolite.

And to expect your captors to be your saviors is just naive. He can’t resist rattling the cage a little.

“Oh, that’s really generous,” he joins in. There’s a hint of mocking in his tone. He can’t help it. He’s having too much fun. But he’s sure to add a little earnestness, too, like he’s genuinely touched by her offer. “Putting yourself out like that for a couple of strangers.”

God, she’s starting to look genuinely scared now and it’s delicious. He could almost salivate as the line about them being strangers registers in her eyes.

The kid’s wiggling in her arms and she really looks like she could sprint away if the unanswered invitation wasn’t holding her in place.

Does he really want to go to her house for dinner? Who knows? Who cares? But he really fucking wants to keep playing with his prey.

Billy turns his head back to Stu. “It might be late by the time we finish unpacking…”

Sid’s muscles relax. Stu’s smile wilts. Billy’s just unlocked the door, unbound her, and offered up an escape route.

Is he the one Billy’s been fucking with this whole time? He’s been dangling her in front of him just to let her go at the last second?

But when he looks over, there’s a command in Billy’s eyes. He’s lining up Stu’s shot and ordering him to take it. Giving her a little false hope just so Stu can bat it away. How’s he such a piece of shit and also the perfect man?

She opens her mouth to respond, to dash through the open cage door. He cuts her off.

“Don’t do that,” he pretends to reprimand Billy. “Look how uncomfortable she is.”

He suppresses his smile as he does exactly as he’s just instructed Billy. She’s uncomfortable and now also confused. She doesn’t know which direction he’s moving with this. She's praying that he's about to show her mercy.

Her prayers are going to remain unanswered.

He takes just a little too long to continue speaking, to let her suffer an extra half a second before he pulls the trigger. “You’re being so rude to turn down a neighborly welcome.”

Billy’s snicker is silent, but Stu feels the vibration against his body. That, along with the despair in their target’s eyes, warms his bones with sweet satisfaction.

Maybe he’ll actually be thanking Billy later instead of punishing him.

The smile on his face is completely genuine when he answers. “We’d love to come.”

#scream 1996 #Billy Loomis #Stu Macher #stuilly #scream #scream movie #billystu #stu x billy #billy x stu #scream fanfic #scream fandom

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