#since the moment we met him in the story he just

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart. 

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME 

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment. 

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week. 

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines. 

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other. 

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal. 

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past. 

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past! 

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile. 

YOU: i hate you 

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do. 

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer. 

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms. 

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead. 

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in. 

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.” 

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.” 

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!” 

“Am not!” 

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place. 

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back. 

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.” 

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider. 

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream. 

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence. 

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?” 

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?” 

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.” 

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other. 

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week. 

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues. 

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.” 

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line. 

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously. 

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends. 

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?” 

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?” 

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications. 

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius. 

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night? 

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest. 

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now. 

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. 

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come. 

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING. 

Oh.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him. 

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable? 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen. 

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you. 

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” 

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” 

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.” 

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?” 

“It’s for safety.” 

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?” 

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.” 

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.” 

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of. 

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized. 

“We can go helmet shopping another day.” 

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you. 

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that. 

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy. 

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street. 

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again. 

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?” 

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.” 

“You say that to every girl you bring here?” 

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.  

“Only the prettiest ones.” 

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week. 

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you. 

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him. 

 The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy. 

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his. 

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver. 

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race. 

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” 

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands. 

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch. 

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide. 

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away. 

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.” 

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.” 

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. 

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me? 

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.” 

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?” 

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Does it really matter?” 

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking. 

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him. 

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on. 

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse. 

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light. 

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.” 

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away. 

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.” 

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?” 

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?” 

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.” 

“Like you have been?” 

“Burn in Hell.” 

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill. 

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish. 

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen. 

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of. 

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.” 

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends? 

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends? 

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter 

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that. 

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again. 

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.” 

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.” 

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.” 

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist. 

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly. 

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.” 

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce. 

“I did.”

“I believe you.” 

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much. 

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much. 

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.” 

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play. 

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead. 

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song. 

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember. 

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot. 

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you. 

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?” 

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.” 

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?” 

“Maybe.” 

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer. 

You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him. 

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly. 

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care. 

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him. 

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up. 

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter. 

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.” 

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter. 

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others. 

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet. 

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply. 

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were. 

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer. 

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.” 

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.” 

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.” 

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time. 

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile. 

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind. 

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing. 

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect. 

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.” 

“I have an answer.” 

“You sound very sure there, big guy.” 

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?” 

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though. 

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness. 

“Yeah. Dating.” 

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye. 

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating. 

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him. 

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it. 

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.” 

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.” 

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed. 

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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#ghost's stories #beyond the hours #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest #i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves #i might revamp the masterlist #also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike #eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her

[ijustreallylovethem]

break up with him

i had this idea on my drive home earlier and i’m not entirely sure i like it but… it’s postable. let me know what you guys think!

luke hughes x reader

words: 2,401

masterlist

“hello?”

“hey, sorry it’s late but-“

“you know i’ll always answer your calls.” luke smiled at your reminder. very rarely had you ever missed one of his calls, because he knew your schedule almost better than his own. if he was calling during class or work, you knew it was serious. and any other time, well you would never pass up the opportunity to talk to your best friend.

“i know.”

“so what’s up? jack annoying you again and you need me to yell at him?” you honestly weren’t sure how the two had been able to live together for the past year with as much as they squabbled. in the two weeks since they had been back in michigan, you had already broken up more arguments than you could count.

“noooooo. why did i call you?” he asked the question more to himself, causing you to giggle.

“lukey, you been drinking?” you heard him scoff into the phone, as if that was a ludacris idea.

“me? drinking? absolutely not!” however, you only had to stay silent for a moment before he was telling the truth. “okay, maybe i’ve had a couple beers.”

“you know it’s a tuesday, right?” you teased.

“well, jacks the one that pulled them out of the fridge so you can take that up with him.” you rolled your eyes, picturing what luke was telling you exactly.

“anyway, you just miss me so much you had to call me? you just saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“i always miss you when you’re gone,” he said, maybe a bit to sincerely. your lips formed a pout, and you were about to open your mouth to speak but luke continued. “but no, i had a reason for calling you… what was it?”

“i don’t know, moose. i’m not in your mind.” you could hear jack yelling something faintly and luke gasped.

“oh! we were listening to music and it started playing that brad paisley song that you always refuse to listen to because it makes you cry.” jack spoke in the background again and then luke clicked his tongue. “right, two people fell in love.”

“and you called to tell me because… you want me to think about it and cry?”

“nooooooo. i called because it made me think about you and then i wanted to talk to you.”

“so you do miss me. that’s what i’m hearing.” you smile, loving how attached your best friend could be sometimes. you understood where he was coming from though. you had been attached at the hip since he moved to michigan and now you lived in two different states. now that he was back for the summer, you had been spending almost all of your time together catching up. the only reason you hadn’t stayed over there tonight was because of your boyfriend, peyton.

you and peyton had met in class at the beginning of the semester, but you had only been together for about four months. luckily, he understood how important luke was to you and had no problem with him. you had been worried at the beginning of your relationship that your friendship with luke would be seen as a problem, as you had heard many horror stories about boyfriends and guy best friends before. but the two had formally met the second day luke was back in michigan and seemed to have no problems with each other. since you had been spending so much time with luke, peyton had asked if you could both spend a night in together, and you were happy to grant his request.

“you know i’d be over there right now if i was allowed to be,” luke responded, as if it were obvious. you both knew it was though. you were always inseparable during the summer, and everyone only expected it to be worse this year since you had spent so long apart.

“don’t worry, i know.”

“speaking of which, where is he?”

“peyton? he went to go pickup food so we didn’t have to pay for delivery.” luke gasped dramatically, and you could practically picture the sarcastic hand he had brought up to his chest.

“you’re telling me he requested you all to himself and then left you?” you couldn’t help but giggle.

“he did, unfortunately. but he’ll be back soon.” luke hummed, but other than that, the line was silent for a few moments.

“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” his tone had turned serious, but you knew that didn’t automatically mean that his question would follow suit.

“always, lukey.” he didn’t ask right away, which had you believing whatever he was about to say was more serious than you originally thought. he took a deep breath and then rushed the words out.

“do you love him?” the question took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to answer.

“what?”

“because, you talk about him, you tell me things he does for you and such, but i feel like you don’t always sound… i don’t know, excited, i guess. like he’s there but you don’t truly care that he is.”

you’re stunned by his words. so stunned that you can only look down at your lap and pick at the little pills on your shorts. luke knows you well, and even though he can’t see you, he realizes you’re not going to answer.

“sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have asked. but i think the fact that you can’t tell me yes means that the answer is no.”

deep down, you know he’s right. you know that your relationship with peyton isn’t bad, but it isn’t amazing either. he’s a great guy, a good boyfriend, but something just wasn’t clicking for you. you had hoped that something would change as time went on, but you had heard of the three month rule and that time had come and gone. nothing.

“y/n?”

“he’s a good guy, luke.” you felt a tear run down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. “i hate that i don’t feel more toward him. he’s so amazing to me but-“

“but you don’t love him.” you shake your head, even though he can’t see you.

“no.” you reach up to wipe away another tear, taking a breath to steady yourself. “i don’t know why, but i don’t. no matter how much i probably should. which really sucks, because i don’t want to hurt him.”

“you’ll just hurt him worse by staying with him,”luke reasoned, and you knew he was right. you couldn’t lie to peyton about loving him and you couldn’t keep giving him false hope by hoping you somehow fell in love with him in the future.

“i know,” you whispered. you heard the door to your apartment open and close and you sighed silently. “i gotta go.”

“he’s back?”

“yeah, bye lukey.”

peyton looked at you concerned as he set the bag of take out on the coffee table in front of you. he slipped off his shoes and sat down, opening his arms to you.

“everything okay?” you just pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. peyton was quick to readjust when he realized you wouldn’t be moving closer to him. “what’s wrong?”

“um, i just… i finally am admitting some things that i didn’t want to admit for the past few weeks.” you closed your eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out how to break the news in the easiest way possible.

“you’re breaking up with me.” your eyes flew open, your jaw dropped slightly as well as you looked at him bewildered.

“how-“

“i really like you, y/n. which means i did my best to learn you. and it didn’t take me long to figure out that you like me too, but not as much. and not in the same way. but i don’t think i wanted to admit it to myself either.”

“peyton, i am so sorry-“

“don’t be sorry.” you had no clue how he was able to offer you a kind smile right now, but he was. he even reached out and gently rubbed your arm, trying to give you as much comfort as you would let him. “it’s not your fault you don’t love me. it’s okay.” the pout returned to your face as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“how are you being so sweet right now?” he pulled you into a hug now, rubbing his hand gently up and down your spine as he laughed slightly.

“to be honest with you, i’ve had about two weeks to let the information sink in.” you pulled away just enough to look up at him with glassy eyes.

“two weeks? why two weeks?” you began to wrack your brain. what had happened between the two of you two weeks ago?

“the day i met luke, and i saw the two of you together, i knew you’d never belong to me. i don’t think you’ve realized it yet, and i’m not sure if he has or not, but y/n, you can’t love me because you love him.”

his words hit you like a train. it was like you had been trying to put together a whole lego set without the base piece, and now that you had it, it was finally standing up straight and looking like it was supposed to. you were suddenly hearing what luke wasn’t saying on your phone call earlier, what he hadn’t been saying in all of your conversations for god knows how long. you were realizing why peyton felt like he was missing something even though he had been nothing but perfect to you.

“and now i think you’ve realized it,” peyton said quietly, a smile on his face.

“peyton… i am so sorry.”

“hey, don’t be sorry, remember? i want you to be happy, okay? and it sucks that that isn’t going to be with me. but i would never be selfish and keep you for myself when that’s clearly not what you want.”

you couldn’t help but surge forward, squeezing him tightly to thank him for the amount of clarity he had shown you. but just as quickly as you grabbed him, you let go and stood up.

“i need… i need to go. um, you can eat all the food and just, lock the door on your way out and-“

peyton stood and slipped on his shoes, shaking his head slightly as he laughed at you.

“need a ride?” your shoulders deflated as some of the stress left your body.

“yes please.”

“come on.” you grabbed your phone and slipped on the shoes by your door, following peyton out of the building to his car. from the moment that you buckled you were zoned out, biting at your nails as you tried to plan what to say.

how do you tell your best friend that you’re in love with him? what if he hadn’t realized he was in love with you too. what if he wasn’t in love with you? oh god what if peyton had gotten into your head and made you believe all of this as revenge for breaking up with him? no, he wouldn’t do that. would he?

it took you a moment to realize the car was parked in front of jack and quinn’s lake house. however, even after you realized, you stayed still.

“you gonna make me sit here all night?” peyton teased. you finally looked up at him, forcing a small smile through your worried state.

“thank you, peyton. for everything.” he gave a smile and a slight nod, then looked to the front door.

“go be happy.”

you were quick to unbuckle and climb out of the car, not sparing a glance behind you as you made your way up the sidewalk. you vaguely registered the sound of the car leaving and the way the night grew darker as the light from his headlights left, but your eyes stayed trained on the front door. usually you just walked right in, but that didn’t seem right for the moment. so instead you rang the doorbell.

you waited a moment, then realized the two boys probably wouldn’t be phased by someone ringing the bell. it wasn’t a common occurrence unless the person ringing it was a sales person or such. so you stepped forward and rang it again. it took a moment of waiting but finally the door opened to reveal your confused best friend.

“y/n? why did you… get in here.” but you stood in your spots taking a deep breath to steel yourself for what you were about to say.

“i don’t love peyton.” now luke looked even more confused.

“we had this conversation like half an hour ago. are you okay? come inside.”

“luke! i… i don’t love peyton because i love you.”

it was slow, the way his demeanor changed. but sure enough, his frown turned up into a smile and his eyes lit up as your words fully registered inside of his brain. his grip on the door handle fell and he ran his hand through his curls.

“god, i thought you’d never figure it out.” he was reaching for you then, cupping your cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips to yours. he kissed you like he’d never get enough, like he never wanted to let you go.

“god guys, get a room.” luke pulled away then, and you glanced around him to see jack standing there. his tone was disgusted but his expression was giddy. but before you could question it, he spoke again. “great timing though, i’m winning five grand on this. i gotta call trev.”

he walked away, and you looked up at luke, who was already smiling down at you. his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were just a little swollen. you were nearly sure you didn’t look much different.

“how about we go to my room and talk about this, yeah?” you nodded, considering the only thing you’d want more was for him to kiss you again. but seeing as you were still standing in the front doorway, maybe that could wait just a moment. well…

“kiss me one more time?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. his smile turned into a soft smirk for a moment before his lips were back on yours.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #Spotify

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 7

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

The documentary was more interesting than Danny had thought it would be; football itself, on the other hand, was quite boring most of the time.  Oh there were a few moments of excitement, usually in the few minutes before the game ended, and maybe it’d be more fun if he was actually playing, but otherwise… 

Yeah, it was boring.  Vlad seemed to like it, though.  And the popcorn was good.  Very buttery.  

“That was exciting, wasn’t it, my boy?”

“I, yeah,” said Danny.  “It was fun.”

Vlad nodded, seeming satisfied.  “Let’s go get lunch.  It’s about that time, and I can show you the dining room and kitchen.  You’ll be able to get things from there whenever you want, of course, but it is primarily the Dairy King’s domain.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “I’m looking forward to meeting him.  He’s your grandfather, right?”

“Yes,” said Vlad.  “Although I’m afraid to say we aren’t all that similar.”

“Okay?” 

“He’s… something of a… well, he has a somewhat interesting sense of humor.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny.  He didn’t really get it.  

“You’ll see soon enough, regardless,” said Vlad.  

They walked into a grand dining room with a long, polished table and a sparkling chandelier.  There were paintings of food on the walls, and Danny’s stomach rumbled, seeing it.  

“The kitchen is right through here,” said Vlad, ushering him through a door.  

Behind it was a shining, modern kitchen, covered in all sorts of gadgets and devices.  The central island counter was piled high with food.  Presiding over the stack of food was a small, round, green man with white hair and a bushy mustache.  He was wearing a parody of royal clothing.  

He was, it was quite clear, none other than the deceased founder of the Dairy King restaurant chain, the Dairy King himself.  

“Oh ho!” he said.  “I didn’t expect to see the two of you until dinnertime, dontcha know!  How are you settling in, Phantom?”

“I’m fine,” said Danny.  “My bedroom looks cool.”

“Glad to hear it!  Now, what kinda lunch were you fancying?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Surprise me?”

“Ohho!”  The Dairy King waved his hands, and cheese, sausages, and cold cuts followed.  “How about some lovely charcuterie?”  

Danny didn’t know what charcuterie was, but it didn’t look bad.  

“It’s finger food,” said the Dairy King.  “Nice and light, and full of the most important food group: CHEESE!”

It was, indeed, full of cheese.  

“Maybe some vegetables won’t be amis, either,” suggested Vlad, a bit of a sheepish look on his face.  “Some fruit?”

“Is cheese not good enough for you?” asked the Dairy King.  “For shame, Vladimir, for shame.”

“It’s good enough, but living beings can’t survive on cheese alone, grandfather.”

The Dairy King smiled and pulled a plate of fruit and carrots and celery from behind his back.  “I’m glad you’ve finally realized that, grandson!”

.

After lunch, Vlad went on to show Danny around the rest of his mansion, which was put together in a much more logical way than the Observants’ place.  Vlad even showed him the entrance to the lab, although they didn’t come in.  Danny was pretty sure he could find his way around.

The Dairy King tagged along with them for a while, then bowed out, saying that he had to start on dinner.  After that, it was just him and Vlad walking the halls.  It was pleasant to walk quietly for a while, but Danny’s curiosity was too strong to leave it that way for very long.

“So… You knew my parents?”

“Yes, I did,” said Vlad.  We met in college and became fast friends.  Your father was my roommate, your mother shared most of our classes.  We joined most of the same clubs, too.  It’s a bit of a boring story, isn’t it?”

“I mean, no?  Since I didn’t know any of this before.  What were they like?”

“Well… your father was always very… enthusiastic.  Your mother was brilliant.”

“So, kind of like Jazz.”

“I suppose so.”

“Both the enthusiasm and being smart.”

“... Yes.  I suppose so.”

Danny was tempted, very tempted, to ask more about his parents, but he could tell Vlad was very uncomfortable talking about them.  A point towards him telling the truth otherwise, although something was still niggling at him.  

“And you knew me,” said Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad, with some relief.  

“Tell me something about myself, then,” said Danny.  “Like, something we did together.”

“Oh, my.  Well, let’s see…  Where to start…  Ah, I know.  Did Jasmine mention anything about what you use your powers for?”

“No,” said Danny.  He made a face.  “I think she must have misunderstood the rules.  She kept trying to convince me that she was my mother.”

“She took the ‘become your parent’ part literally, I suppose,” said Vlad, shaking his head.  “In any case, after you received your powers, you became something of a superhero for your town, protecting it from rogue ghosts and other blackguards.”

Danny decided to ignore the really egregious euphemism for dying in favor of absorbing the fact he’d been a superhero.  That sounded so cool.   “Really?”

“Yes, really.  We even fought side by side a few times,” said Vlad, briefly buffing his nails on the front of his shirt.  “Perhaps I could tell you about the time you inadvertently absorbed another ghost’s ability to control the weather?”

“Please,” said Danny.  

.

They went to dinner after that, and it was very good.  Gourmet burgers, cheesy french fries and all.  Vlad seemed a little put out by it, but Danny liked it.  

Danny swam in the indoor pool for a bit after dinner, then played around with a few of the video games - he especially liked Doomed - but when it was time to sleep…  He didn’t quite feel like it.  Instead, he went downstairs, to the kitchens.

“Ah, Phantom!” said the Dairy King, who was doing… something with a gallon of cream.  “What brings you to the kitchen this fine evening?”

Danny shrugged.  “It looked like you wanted to tell me something at dinner.  And you call me Phantom.  The Observants called me that, too.”

“Well, it is part of your name, dontcha know?”

“I don’t know, really.  Clockwork said my name is Daniel, and Jazz called me Danny, and the Observants just called me Phantom, and said that was my only name.  What’s the truth?”

“I’m not all that well acquainted with you, but I’d say they’re all the truth.  I don’t rightly know your family name - couldn’t tell you if I did, against the rules, dontcha know? - but I know you by both names.”

That was one mystery solved, even if it was one of the less important ones.  “And the reason you wanted to talk to me?” 

The Dairy King sighed and floated down to sit on one of the kitchen counters.  “Well, now, that’s a bit more difficult to talk about, dontcha know?”

“Not… really,” said Danny.  “Since I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Like.  At all.”

“You’ve got a point there.  Well.  You know that I love my grandson, ya know?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

“Yah, well, he’s my grandson.  And he cares about you, sure enough.  But the two of you didn’t always get along, per se.  Not to put too fine a point on it all… you two were enemies.”

“Enemies?”  There was the other shoe Danny had been waiting for.  He'd known this was too good to be true.  

The Dairy King nodded sadly.  “He's always wanted to take care of you, but he didn't go about it the right way.  Picked fights with you instead of talking to you.  And then that feud with your parents.  Nasty business, that.”

“Feud?”

“They had a falling out in their youth.  Nothing they should have gotten so worked up about, is my understanding, but Vlad took everything so personally…  Although, I wasn’t there to see it myself, dontcha know?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  He’d really thought that Vlad might be genuine, but he was hiding something big like this…  “So, we fought?”

“You did, I’m afraid,” said the Dairy King.  “But I can guarantee good as gouda that he regretted it.  He considers this whole thing a second chance.  A clean slate, so he can start over again, do things right this time.  But it didn’t sit right with me, not telling you, dontcha know?  And you’d remember eventually, and then what?  You’d feel tricked, betrayed, and then everything would be worse off than before.”

“They’re pretty bad now,” muttered Danny.  

“He really does mean to do better by you,” said the Dairy King.  “Please, won’t you give him a chance?”

Danny bit his lower lip.  He’d given Jazz a chance, even though she’d lied to him.  This felt different, though.  Still.  

“I’ll give him a week to tell me the truth.  That’s how long I gave Jazz.  If he doesn’t…”

“Yes, that sounds reasonable,” said the Dairy King.  “Thank you.”

Danny shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet.  Neither of us know what Vlad will do.”

.

First thing after breakfast, they headed down to the lab.  Somehow, knowing what, exactly, Vlad’s deal was made it a lot easier to go down there.  The lab was… not what he expected.  

It was very clean, for one.  All the different pieces of equipment were stored neatly and labeled.  The ectoplasm samples were stored in carefully marked, sealed jars.  Large, bright, computer screens displayed screensavers.  And in one of the walls was a large octagonal hole, leading down a dead-end tunnel. It was roped off with caution tape. 

Danny stared at it.  There was something about it… 

“The portal,” said Vlad.  “Don’t get too close.  It’s off right now, due to the requirements of the trial, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a dangerous piece of equipment.”

“Then why have it?” 

“Because it is also very useful.  Come along.”  

Vlad led him on, into a large, seemingly empty room.  The floor and the walls were padded with thin athletic mats.  

“Now,” said Vlad, walking into the center of the room as Danny looked around.  “First things first.  The transformation.”  

He struck a pose, and a black ring that somehow glowed sprung out from his waist.  As soon as Danny registered its existence, it split into two and swept over his body, turning Vlad from an aristocratic-looking human into a blue-skinned, horned, fanged, and clawed ghost.  

“Wow.  I knew you could do that, but wow.”  

“And you can do it, too,” said Vlad, his voice subtly deeper.  “In reverse order, of course.”

“How?” asked Danny.  

“Let’s take it step by step.”

.

They settled into a kind of routine.  They’d all eat breakfast together.  Then, Vlad and Danny would go train.  With Vlad’s help, Danny got a lot better at using his powers, even if he was nowhere near Vlad’s level.

(He had to wonder how he survived their enmity, with such a gulf between their skill levels, but maybe he either was better before losing his memories, or Vlad was going easy on him.)

At noon, the three of them would eat together, and Vlad would assign Danny a few hours of ‘homework.’  It wasn’t as bad as Jazz’s punishing schedule, but it still was tiring.  Probably good for him, though.  

Then, at dinner, Danny would harass Vlad and the Dairy King for stories about himself.  There was just so much he didn’t know.  

Finally, they’d usually watch a football game or some movie together before separating for ‘personal activities’ (Vlad’s words) and bedtime.  

The days passed quickly like that, and before Danny knew it, he’d reached the deadline he’d set for himself.  The evening of the seventh day.  

“Did I tell you about our little trip through time?” asked Vlad.  “It started with a rather interesting map–”

“You already told me that one,” interrupted Danny.  “Come on, you’ve got to have at least a few from before I died, right?  You don’t have to worry about embarrassing me with baby stories.  I get it.”

“It pains me to say it now, but I was not as involved in your life as I wish I had been.  I…” 

Danny looked up expectantly, wondering if this was when he'd admit to the truth.  When he'd tell Danny they used to be enemies. 

“I lived rather far away, you see, and fell out of contact with your family for many years.”

“Oh,” said Danny, disappointed in more ways than one. 

“I only made contact again at the reunion, which is when I also learned about you.”  He shook his head.  “I was so shocked when I found out about you,” he said, voice distant.  “I was just…  It was unbelievable to me, that what happened to me could happen to someone else.”

“It was a lab accident for you, too?”

Vlad made a face.  “Yes.”

Danny pushed the remains of his peas around on his plate.  What a way to kill the conversation…

“I’m probably going to leave in the morning,” he said, desperate to break the silence that had gone on for far too long.  

“What?” said Vlad.  “But we’ve been getting along so well!”

“We have,” said Danny.  “But I still need to visit the other people on the list.  You’re only the third.”

“You don’t exactly have to,” started Vlad.  

“But I want to give everyone a chance.  It’s only fair.”

Vlad sighed heavily.  “You are nothing if not fair.  I do wish you had told me beforehand.  I would have made something special for dinner.”

“You mean, you would’ve had me make something special for dinner,” said the Dairy King.  “Dontcha worry.  I have an ice cream cake in the freezer, on account of this being the one-week anniversary of you being here.”

“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ve really had a nice time.”

“I’m glad,” said Vlad.  “I hope you do consider returning.  I don’t know who else has applied for your custody, but I am, at least, a safe choice.”

Danny nodded.  He was better than the Observants, anyway.  But hiding the fact that they were once enemies didn’t exactly scream safe to Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad.  He sounded just a little choked up.  “Well.  On to the cake, I suppose!”

“Yeah, cake sounds good.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

[ingravinoveritas]

You know what's kind of wild to me? Anna just confirmed they've been together for 6 years. People forget she's still 29, and isn't 30 yet. So they met when she was still 23. Not hugely different from 25, but notable I think. Idk where the narrative that she was 25 came from and how that stuck.

Hi there! So I am still catching up on Asks, and I wanted to make sure I addressed these (grouped together due to similar themes). For those who might not have seen, what is being referred to are two separate incidents that occurred in the days after Anna posted the t-shirt story on Instagram. On Tuesday, she posted this story lashing out at a Swedish publication for sharing a story originally from a UK publication (The Independent) about Michael's answer to the age gap question on The Assembly. The story was originally in Swedish, but the English translation is on the right:

Then on Wednesday, she did the same thing again, this time with another Swedish paper:

Since so much of this hinges on what Michael said in his response, I will post a short clip of that here, so we have the visual:

When AL's stories were first posted, I noticed a few comments on a post from @nightgoodomens from someone who speaks Swedish, and after reading the article, their observation was that all the magazines did was literally translate what Michael said, word for word (which we can then also further confirm by watching the video above).

So Michael's words were translated directly, and on top of that, Anna was not tagged by these papers, or contacted by reporters "for comment"--she seemingly sought out these news stories and shared them on her own social media. What's strange is that most of us would never have even seen them otherwise, and yet she chose to draw attention to them. And if these articles truly are meaningless clickbait, I'm confused as to why Anna would lash out so hard at them, especially if she feels as secure in her and Michael's relationship as she has wanted us to believe.

The other thing for me is that the one voice that is (again) noticeably absent here is Michael's. Nearly every post Michael has responded to/shared in relation to The Assembly was about a moment between him and one of the interviewers, Leo. Not only has the clip of Michael's answer to the age gap question gotten much less circulation/attention than the initial clip of the girl asking him the question, he has not said a single word about it since the show aired on April 5th.

He has especially not said anything about being misquoted (either in UK magazines/newspapers or international ones). And this becomes even more glaring when you realize that Michael immediately jumped on someone Twitter the day before AL shared that first story and corrected them for misquoting him (in regard to his comments about Welsh actors and Welsh roles). So it's very clear that if Michael thought he was being misquoted, there is no reason why he wouldn't speak up about it. And yet...complete silence.

I also find it interesting that for months, Michael was being attacked on social media, first in the aftermath of his comments about the situation in the Middle East, then more recently after recording a video saying hello to Good Omens fans in Russia. In both cases, he was defamed over and over again, accused of supporting war and genocide, and in general had his comments twisted and distorted beyond recognition--in other words, he was repeatedly misquoted (to put it mildly). Not once did Anna defend him against any of this. Not once was there an Insta story or anything speaking up in support of Michael. But as soon as it was something about her/their relationship, here she was posting these stories and letting us know exactly what her priorities are.

To your comments @lookforthelight97 about AL inadvertently saying the quiet parts out loud, that was also something that caught my attention. We could be here all day talking about the narrative and who is trying to change what, but for those who don't know, the narrative of her being 25 came from every media outlet stating that Michael and AL met in May of 2019...despite the fact that she gave birth to Lyra just four months later, in September.

It was this discrepancy that gave a lot of us the feeling that something was off even back in 2019 (and I would urge folks to check out @problematicwelshman, who covered a lot more of this at the time). In actuality, Michael and AL would have had to have met in late 2018 (when Anna was actually 24, as her birthday is in August) for her to then become pregnant and have the baby in September. All of this to say that if the official PR line for the last five years has been that they met in 2019, it makes you wonder why AL is suddenly publicly contradicting it, especially to show the lack of contentment she seems to feel about the relationship even after five (pardon me, six) years.

In any case, my incredulity is and continues to be at AL so readily showing her insecurities in this way, because all these two Insta stories have done is to draw more attention to her response than to the articles that are mentioned. Articles that again, none of us would have known about if she hadn't shared them. Yet as was said above, I don't think there is anything that anyone could post or write that casts doubt on Michael and AL's relationship the way her own social media posts do.

And to what you @vaguelyomens and @angelsadvocate96 said about Michael mentioning that his greatest fear is being alone, I feel like maybe Michael has such a fear of being alone because he already knows what it's like to feel alone. To know deep down that you are not remotely on the same page as the person you're in a relationship with. To know that they don't understand you and never will, but feeling responsible for them nonetheless, and not knowing how to reconcile those two things. It's difficult to imagine anything that would make someone feel more alone than that.

So, those are my thoughts on the Insta stories AL shared earlier this week. As I have said before, I know that I could be completely wrong, and I'm happy for folks to share their perspective, whether you agree or disagree. A heck of a lot to think about, for sure...

#lookforthelight97 #vaguelyomens #angelsadvocate96 #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #the assembly #this is cringey all around tbh #and if this is just one thing about Michael and AL's relationship that has been fudged/manipulated #it's hard not to wonder what else has been left out of the story. and why #curiouser and curiouser #also her posting those stories and attacking the media outlets with no comment from Michael feels like a one-sided conversation #the more i think about it the weirder this all seems #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #relationships #discourse

[vettelsvee]

I WANNA BE THERE, WITH YOU | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: seb returns home after finishing the 2008 formula 1 season. everything seems to be going well for him except for his relationship with his girlfriend, hanna, who thinks that, as it is more than obvious, he's hiding something related to a certain toro rosso intern whom seb is so eager for redbull to hire.

word count: 6237

warnings: brief smut (oral, male receiving) and let's say horny moment but not exactly having sex. toxic behavior.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

"Seb, this is the first time you sit alone in front of all these cameras. How does it feel not to have Diana by your side?"

The German didn't find it amusing at all. After spending an incredible day and an even better night with his wife, he felt nothing but helplessness when they called him around six-fifteen in the morning to inform him that Diana couldn't be present in the first part of the recording since it would focus solely on him. Despite finding it very strange, he didn't object. They had a contract to follow, and as much as it hurt, he couldn't do what he wanted.

His anger was such that he didn't greet anyone when he arrived on set. He simply reluctantly dropped his belongings and sat in the chair hastily placed in the middle of the room, hoping the whole affair would end quickly. He didn't even speak to his former colleagues, who remained impassive to Vettel's behavior that morning.

"It's a damn shit, honestly," he answer sincerely and aggressively. "If you didn't want Diana here today, you could have let us know earlier."

"Seb..." Webber began cautiously. "It's not that she's not here because we don't want her, but because from now on, it's going to be like this. At least until this part of the story is over."

Seeing the confusion on the blonde's face, Mark signaled the cameras to turn off for a bit more privacy.

Sebastian wasn't understanding anything, and it overwhelmed him.

"But..."

"We're going to start talking about everything related to your relationship with Hanna," Jenson Button said without hesitation. "We're aware of everything it meant for two or three years in your relationship with Diana, so we don't want you to be influenced when explaining what you experienced with Prater."

"We think that if your wife isn't present when we record part of what concerns your ex, you'll be more honest."

Sebastian nodded. He couldn't argue with them because he'd be lying to himself. Although it was true that Diana had significantly improved her insecurities and had stopped comparing herself to her ex-girlfriend a long time ago, and they even became close friends, Sebastian knew that there were certain things she was better off not finding out, if possible, never. Although that was impossible: Diana was so perfectionistic that she would probably watch the entire documentary as soon as it was released.

"Perfect," the blonde said briefly. "Of course, you're right. Where do you want to start?"

"We already know your whole story: you met in class, then fell in love so much that you started dating the moment you left school," the Australian listed, receiving approvals from his former teammate. "So... how about we start with the end of the 2008 season?"

[...]

2008  November 3rd

The flight back to Germany was becoming exhausting, especially since Sebastian had been answering questions for various media outlets throughout the entire journey that began in Sao Paulo as a proposal established by his new team, Red Bull Racing.

Facing a camera and several spotlights, the German driver, who had completed his first whole Formula 1 season, felt quite intimidated. Despite portraying in press conferences and other types of conferences that he enjoyed the presence of the media and liked the attention focused on him, it was quite the opposite.

"It amuses me that we're talking about the 2008 season as if ten years had passed when it ended just a few hours ago."

Despite being tired of the situation and eagerly wishing to get home to be with his family and girlfriend, his sense of humor was still there. The decision to take the first flight back immediately after the race was not his, but his younger sister Lara's. Lara was eager to hug and play with Sebastian, even go to therapy with him, everything she hadn't done for the past few months. A few pleas and some puppy-dog eyes were more than enough to convince the driver.

"Looking back, it's been an incredible year, no doubt," he commented sincerely. "Toro Rosso has been a great team that has supported me from the very beginning and, above all, has made me feel at home."

The twenty-year-old laughed before continuing, earning approval from his public relations, who at that moment seemed to be a teacher examining him orally.

"Winning a race for the first time, and in Monza, was incredible. And all thanks to Diana..." Oops, he had slipped up. "The team intern, a great friend of mine... well, colleague," he tried to correct himself, stumbling over his own words. "Let's see, not that either. She's just another team member, you know."

If this were a test, he would already be failing with honors. Britta's face in those moments only showed the desire to kill him, something she would gladly do if Sebastian Vettel weren't her main source of income, as well as a very nice guy who became a very important person for her.

"Can you tell us more about this Diana?" the accompanying journalist inquired, wanting to know more about the unknown figure.

"Of course!" he replied cheerfully, ignoring the pleading looks Roeske was throwing at him to avoid continuing the topic. "We're not best of friends, of course, but we have been a significant support for each other during the ups and downs of racing,nd perhaps also for personal reasons," he pointed out, recalling the numerous races he couldn't finish, "Wagner often has incredible ideas, but there are more than a few idiots on the team who only see her as a lapdog to do this or that," he explained. "Even I, myself, have doubted her, but who wouldn't! However, that doesn't mean I don't trust her. I actually trust her a quite a lot," he added.

Britta was looking at him with a very unfriendly face, even starting to wave her hands to get his attention and make him shut up. She knew that a great majority of her client's words were invented and wouldn't serve any purpose other than creating controversy and turning people against him.

"To be honest, there were times when I worried about her antics and the high chances of them sending me into the gravel," the blonde continued, disregarding the gestures from the woman in front of him, "but in Monza nothing happened, thankfully!"

The reporter remained immersed in the conversation, which again focused on Vettel's overall performance in the season. He tried to insert some more personal questions, but either the German was so absorbed in the wonderful professional year he had, or he skillfully avoided them, not panicking when hearing them.

"So, can we assume that the relationship between Diana Wagner and you goes beyond the professional?"

"Excuse me, but I believe we've already talked enough about certain aspects of my client's privacy," Britta intervened, seeing that the conversation might head in an unpleasant direction. "The agreement when this interview was arranged was to talk about Sebastian Vettel's performance at Toro Rosso before his move to Red Bull, not about his appearance on a gossip show, which is what this seems to have turned into," she stated rather abruptly.

Sebastian shrugged, unsure of what to say to the woman's remarks, simultaneously fearing that he might say something foolish and make matters worse.

"But, Sebastian, could you confirm, at least, the rumors about the hotel night you shared during the Italian Grand Prix with that girl?" the man continued, ignoring Britta's previous signals.

"This is going too far," Britta almost shouted. Having lost her patience, she leaned toward the journalist and spoke in a low but firm voice. "Your behavior with my client is unacceptable. You ither leave this area right now, or I'll have to call security and our lawyers. Your choice," she backed away, giving him a very fake smile.

He seemed surprised and somewhat reluctant to the threat. Eventually, he yielded to Roeske's authority, gathering his belongings with his team and immediately withdrawing from the VIP area of the plane while muttering some low protests or insults that the Germans didn't hear.

Britta looked at Sebastian disdainfully, who simply shrugged as if he had done nothing. Britta sighed.

"Seb, you have to be more careful about what you say out there," she explained as calmly as she could. "You can't speak so openly about certain topics if you want your relationship with Hanna to remain private."

"I know, Britta," he sighed, admitting he had made a mistake but, at the same time, not understanding what was wrong with talking about Diana. "Sometimes I don't think before I speak, and I mess up."

"You need to be careful when saying anything related to Diana," Roeske continued, ignoring Vettel's words. "If you don't want to mess up your relationship, of course. I understand that you two get along pretty well, but what you do or say about this girl can be misunderstood. Don't you remember the photos from Monza?" she inquired, making the driver lower his head, embarrassed. "How you called me immediately to say everyone it was me when clearly, it wasn't, and everyone knew it?"

The public relations' anger was increasing, while Sebastian tried to come up with excuses to stop her from lecturing him. He was too tired. He wanted to sleep and get home as soon as possible, eat something, say a few silly things to his younger sister, and go to sleep. Or do something more fun, alone, with his girlfriend.

"Just say she's just a good friend, nothing else," he said downplaying it and curling up in his seat. "You don't have to worry about it. It's nonsense."

Britta frowned and crossed her arms.

"Don't play smart with me, Vettel," she increased the seriousness of her voice. Now she had the boy's full attention. "I know you too well. I'm not telling you not to be friends, but I know there's something more than just a friendship, and you see it as something you'd like to have but, for one reason or another, you can't," Sebastian's face turned marble-colored. Roeske was right, but he was too proud to admit it. "I'm telling you all this for your own good, but if you want your relationship with Hanna to continue as it is, you need to set boundaries. Also," she added, "you know perfectly well that you're playing with Wagner, and I wouldn't want you to hurt her."

"Britta: Diana is an amazing person and very important in my life, but not in the way you're thinking," lie. "I see her as a little sister," another lie, "someone I trust and who, actually, understands me," that was true. "I have no intention of ruining my relationship with Hanna, really."

For now, that's what came to the German's mind, but as soon as he could, he tried to shake off that thought from his subconscious. Sometimes he hated himself to levels he never thought anyone could hate him, not even the guys who had been so envious of him throughout his short life.

The blonde sighed, trying to believe the boy given the conviction his words seemed to have.

"I hope so, Seb. I just want you to make smart decisions and think about the consequences of everything you say, not just for you but for those you care about. They're not to blame for anything you do or say," she commented, trying to reason with him and make sure he remembered the talk they were having.

He nodded sincerely, reclining again in search of a comfortable position to sleep for the remainder of the flight. Britta, mimicking him, leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes, but she could hear Sebastian calling her again.

"What do you want now, Seb?"

"Thanks for everything," he said sincerely, his voice slightly drowsy from fatigue.

She settled back, and, accompanied by Sebastian's soft snores and the constant hum of the engine, fell asleep, just like her companion.

His sleep was interrupted after what seemed like a few minutes, although the reality was that about two hours had passed. A voice over the loudspeaker announcing that they had arrived in Cologne, their destination, startled Roeske, who opened her eyes abruptly and looked around for a few seconds, a bit confused and experiencing a sudden dizziness. Sebastian was still next to her, sound asleep. Without wasting a second, she approached him and began shaking him to wake him up. For security reasons, they needed to exit the plane before anyone else to avoid encounters with fans.

"Wake up!" Britta shouted in his ear. Seb just purred like a cat, turning around and holding onto the pillow he had in his grasp. "Come on, Sebastian. We've already arrived in Cologne."

Another unintelligible murmur emerged from the lips of the German, who seemed trapped in a dream he was enjoying. The woman realized he had reset his mind in just a few hours and already had it in vacation mode, and that was starting to test her patience again. She took a deep breath and tried to wake him up again.

"Sebastian Vettel, wake up!" she shouted more energetically, earning glances from some of the people present. "We've already landed in Cologne, so don't linger anymore and get up now," she urged, even shaking him to see if it had more effect.

The driver finally opened his eyes, although he was totally disoriented. He uttered some imperceptible words in his native language for Roeske and rubbed his eyes as he stretched, then looked at the woman totally bewildered.

"What's wrong with you?" he murmured sleepily. "Have you had a psychotic episode and need help?"

Britta turned her gaze, impassive to the what the boy said. She was relieved because at least he was awake, even if he was about to surrender to Morpheus again.

"We've landed in Cologne already," she repeated for the third time, now with a more relaxed tone. "We have to pick up what little we have here and get off now," she declared authoritatively. "You know the arrival of a celebrity, fans, and screams are not a good combination."

And she knew it very well. Both Germans began to tidy up the mess they had caused throughout the flight, folding the blankets provided by the airline and throwing away the remnants of food they had been offered. Shortly after, they made sure they didn't leave anything behind and left the cabin they were in.

As they exited the plane and waited for the relevant security members, the PR started explaining Seb's plans for the next few days. They discussed various prearranged interviews, promotional events he had to attend for some brands, and above all, she emphasized the meeting the young man would have with the team later that week to finalize the details of his contract. Even though the holiday period had begun, the schedule was full, and his responsibilities didn't end as soon as Vettel set foot out of the cockpit.

Shortly afterward, the security guards who would accompany them to the exit of the facility appeared. Britta and Sebastian introduced themselves, although they knew the latter perfectly, and received the corresponding professional greetings. One of them, a robust man with an attentive gaze, indicated that they would accompany them, for the time being, to the area for picking up checked baggage.

"I hope you had a good flight, Mr. Vettel, Mrs. Roeske," he announced as they walked quickly through the long corridors of the airport.

"Within the measure of what you can expect from a flight of almost fourteen hours, yes," Britta replied, still smiling.

Sebastian agreed with her, also adding his thanks for caring about his safety and being there with them at that moment to avoid any altercations.

"It's part of our job."

As they began to approach the conveyor belts with hundreds of suitcases from the just-landed international flights, Britta began to notice, in the distance, the presence of several fans who were beginning to gather to see Sebastian. They looked tired, and the blonde wondered how long they had been waiting for his arrival. The security guards also seemed to notice this, as a few more appeared within seconds, surrounding the celebrity in a somewhat alarming way.

Sebastian turned to his PR confused, and gave her a smile.

"Not many usually come," the German commented honestly, "but they never cease to amaze me... How can they always know what time we arrive? Is there someone leaking that information?"

"That's what being a rising star in Formula 1 is like," Britta chuckled softly. "Calm down: you deserve this more than anyone, even if sometimes you want to tell them to go to hell."

The noise of the crowd intensified as they advanced toward the arrivals area of the airport, now with their suitcases with them. The fans' shouts began to resonate loudly, filling the atmosphere with a very positive yet somewhat distressing energy. The security guards kept the more excited ones at bay, who might try to do something crazy; meanwhile, the pilot and PR greeted and smiled enthusiastically.

Sebastian didn't hesitate to drop his suitcase and start approaching the crowd, even though they were telling him otherwise. If the German was there, it was not only because of his effort but also because of the people in front of him at that moment who had decided to put their trust in him.

"Sebastian, I love you!"

"Can you sign my cap?"

"Next year, we want you to come back home with a championship!"

The cheers of excitement and flashes of cameras became increasingly present, all in an attempt to capture the attention of the German sensation. Seb smiled, waved, shook hands, took photos, and signed anything that anyone put in front of him, with gratitude and maintaining professionalism as much as possible, although it was a bit challenging for him.

"Guys, calm down!" the blonde raised his voice, trying to calm the crowd. "I'll be with you as long as they let me, so I'll try to make sure each of you get something from me!"

The young man spent a long time signing caps, shirts, and photographs while briefly chatting with some of those in the front rows. Britta could only smile as she kept an eye on the security guards, who seemed more than accustomed to that kind of massive gathering.

"Sorry, Mr. Vettel, but it's time to go. There are also two people waiting for you in the VIP lounge," commented the security man with whom they had exchanged words, who was already taking him by the elbow and moving him away from the crowd. Sebastian was a bit surprised: who could be waiting for him? "More people are coming, and we can't risk anything serious happening."

"Understood, thank you," the driver answered. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

After turning his back on the man and shaking off his grip, Vettel quickly apologized to the fans and said goodbye as best he could, promising them that the coming season would be much more promising. Roeske remained by his side despite the overwhelm she was starting to feel. The woman's relief was present as the security guards surrounded them and hurriedly led them to what seemed to be the other end of the airport.

"Feeling calmer?" Britta asked her client.

"Not really," Sebastian replied. "I'm a bit nervous because they told me someone was waiting for me," he explained, trying to calm his anxiety. "I don't know who could be in the VIP lounge they're taking us to."

The woman diverted her gaze from the boy and chuckled quietly. She had planned that little surprise for him a few days ago because he deserved it. She knew that fatigue and jet lag, combined with the boredom of the interviews during the long flight, had taken a toll on him. Still, she hoped that when his eyes landed on his father and his girlfriend, who had been waiting for them for quite some time, his spirits would lift.

As the room appeared before them, Sebastian could recognize two slightly blurry figures, which increased his nervousness. Britta just restrained her laughter and, why not, her excitement. After approaching a bit more leisurely, the first thing the blue-eyed pilot noticed was a message written in a font he recognized perfectly: "You're finally back, champion of my heart."

"Seb!"

Hanna, who was a few meters away but right in front of him, couldn't contain her excitement and ran to greet him, not caring who was watching them and letting the sign she had been preparing for days fall instead of studying. Seb, totally moved, opened his arms to receive his girlfriend, whom he lifted slightly when she reached him. Still above him, she kissed him calmly, as if there were only the two of them in the room, while Prater clung to his waist with her legs to avoid falling, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Laughter began to spread between the young lovers after finishing the kiss. Finally, they were living the moment they had longed for so much.

"My God, Hanna... I can't believe I'm finally here, with you."

The German, without taking his eyes off his girlfriend, lowered her to the ground, still hugging her. The blonde could only look at him with emotion, not believing that the love of her life was finally by her side. She took his face in her hands with affection and began to distribute short kisses all over his face.

"I've missed you so much..." Sebastian whispered, putting his forehead against hers and caressing her hair tenderly.

"I've missed you too," she revealed, "and you have no idea how much."

All the couple wanted at that moment was to give each other all the love they hadn't been able to profess for months. Still, the fear of being caught by paparazzi and fans, in addition to the presence of Norbert Vettel, Britta Roeske, and possibly the entire airport security team in Cologne, made them relax a bit.

And thankfully so, because Sebastian knew that, as tired as he was, if Hanna continued to throw him those looks that expressed something more than romance, he was going to end up in the bathrooms with her doing what he had wished to do to her for months.

"Well, well, young man, aren't you going to leave anything for the man who gave you life?"

Norbert interrupted the moment between the lovers, and quickly, they separated their hands, which were still intertwined. Sebastian ran with excitement to hug his father, whom he had missed more than he initially thought.

"For me, my wife comes first," the young man declared, focusing his gaze on the blonde. "That's what you taught me. Or am I wrong?"

His father nodded, crossing his arms.

"Whatever you say," the man said, proud of his son.

He picked up his son's suitcases and headed towards the exit door, where he had parked the family vehicle a bit haphazardly. His wife, Heike, had started calling him. She had been quite insistent in the past few days about their son's return home, so it wouldn't be wise to ignore her call if he wanted to avoid an argument with her.

"Seb, remember that in a week we have the meeting in Berlin with Horner, Marko, and the others," the PR reminded. Vettel began to snort and threw his head back in reproach. "Don't do that!" Britta scolded him, "you know we have to finalize the details of your contract for the next season."

"A meeting? Again? I thought we were on vacation!"

One day, that guy was going to test the woman's patience.

"Darling, calm down," Hanna intervened, taking his hand affectionately and squeezing him. "Don't make Britta angry, you know she's doing this for you. I'd like to know where you would be if it weren't for her!"

Norbert, who was with his son's luggage near the exit, listening to his wife urging him impatiently, let out an exclamation with a tone louder than he would have liked.

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. He hated that they didn't understand his sarcasm despite boasting that they knew him well. Now he was alone, with the woman who had become his second mother, as his girlfriend had approached Norbert, and they were now engrossed in a suggestive conversation about who knows what.

"All right, all right! I was just joking," the young man directed his gaze directly at Roeske, and for once, she could see seriousness in his eyes. "I thought you knew."

"It's reached a point where I don't know if you're laughing with us or at us, Vettel," Britta replied, emphasizing the latter.

"It's serious, Britta," the blonde insisted, "I'll prepare what you asked for..."

The mentioned woman didn't give Sebastian a chance to finish the sentence. Making sure Hanna was still focused on her father-in-law's words, she looked at the pilot seriously, trying to make him listen carefully and remember her words before committing any madness he might regret in the coming months.

"Seb, I need you to take the decision about Wagner seriously," she articulated firmly. "I don't want you to include her in the team out of pity," she diverted her gaze towards the blonde before continuing, "or due to some personal feeling."

"I think she has what it takes to shine," the boy whispered. "I don't know how many times or to whom else I have to say it."

The older blonde nodded, not very convinced of the boy's words; she couldn't say anything else because Sebastian's family approached to inform him that Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, was eager for her son to arrive home, as well as his two younger siblings.

While he heard the farewells between his father and his girlfriend and Roeske, and as they approached the car, got in and headed towards their hometown, Sebastian Vettel thought again, before falling asleep on the way back home, about the last words he had shared with Britta. He promised himself that this person would not cross his mind again during the winter break of 2008, but it was inevitable for him to dream of Diana Wagner giving him orders on the track and celebrating his second victory with him, all while his head rested on his girlfriend's shoulders.

[...]

The first dinner back home with his parents, his girlfriend and his two younger siblings, Fabian and Lara, had gone better than he had imagined. Even Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, encouraged Hanna to stay overnight with her son, considering how much they had missed each other. After a somewhat rushed dessert due to the sleep consuming Sebastian, the couple decided to retire early with the intention of going to sleep. They would talk and do everything they wanted the next day.

The room where Sebastian had slept almost all his life was shrouded in darkness, with the only trickle of light coming from the full moon that adorned the sky that night. Hanna, before making sure the room's door was closed, felt Sebastian's lips starting to travel her neck. She sighed softly, feeling excitement starting to fill her, especially between her legs, as Sebastian's lips only left a trail of kisses all over her skin. The intensity of the moment increased when the driver's hands went towards the girl's breasts. Hanna moaned as subtly as she could and fiercely kissed the blonde, pulling him closer to her.

They both wanted more. The voracious hunger they felt for each other was evident. They had been in a sexless state, between Vettel's absences and Prater's studies, since the summer when they had decided to take a short trip to Berlin. No matter how hard they tried to control themselves, they couldn't stop kissing each other. The fabric that clothed them began to disappear, bringing them closer and making them lie on the bed with only their underwear, even rubbing desperately against each other.

However, the girl couldn't continue when she thought she heard, amid one of her boyfriend's moans, what seemed to be the fourth letter of the alphabet.

Hanna lifted herself slightly, looking directly at the blue-eyed man, still lying down, with a somewhat strange mix of passion and confusion.

"What did you just say?"

Sebastian blinked, sitting up as quickly as he could.

"Say?" he paled. "I didn't say anything, Hanna."

His girlfriend wore a displeased expression, still puzzled by the sound she thought she heard. At that moment, doubts began to invade her, and images of Sebastian with the intern, Diana, in Monza, along with rumors about the night they had spent together, flooded her mind. Desire, doubt, and concern were the three emotions that began to overwhelm her; she also felt fear and, above all, insecurity.

While Hanna knew that her boyfriend had a strictly professional relationship with the girl, she couldn't help but think that maybe something more had happened between them.

"Seb, I...," began the blonde, trying to keep her tears in check, "I need you to explain who Diana Wagner is and why everyone associates her with you."

Sebastian sighed, took a breath, and, as he had done several times before, explained who the blonde was:

"Diana is just a girl studying Mechanical Engineering at a university in Barcelona, doing an internship at Toro Rosso," the guy explained. "That's it. There's nothing more to it, Hanna."

The girl didn't seem convinced. Her boyfriend always ended up giving her the same speech, and he had said the same thing so many times that she had memorized those words, pauses included.

"I know you might worry about our relationship," Seb continued, soft but firm, "but there's nothing beyond a professional relationship." He left out the part about their friendship.

"Why did you arrive in the paddock with her, then?" Hanna asked again. "And why do all the journalists now ask you about her? And the hotel room...?"

"I'll repeat it, love: she's part of the team," he explained again, cutting her off and trying not to lose patience. "Everything gets taken out of context just to sell a bit. As for the hotel room," he added, "she was just helping me with some strategies that helped me win in Monza."

Hanna tried to believe him, but she couldn't. She knew it wasn't the German's fault, but hers for having so little trust in herself. Although the hatred she had for Diana Wagner was well deserved... Who did that girl think she was to be with her boyfriend like that?

No, she couldn't think like that. That was being a toxic person.

"She's a temporary worker," the girl suddenly exclaimed angrily, catching Sebastian completely off guard, "not a track engineer as such."

"She helps me, and I like her company. She's very pleasant," the blonde finally admitted. "I don't know why you're making a drama out of all this when I've literally explained a thousand times that she's not someone I care about."

Tension was escalating rapidly, and an uncomfortable silence enveloped the room suddenly. Sebastian knew he shouldn't have said that last part because he did care about his colleague; however, Hanna's incessant words and apparent lack of trust were confusing him.

"Hanna, I feel nothing but pity for Diana, okay? That's why I requested in my contract, and I'll keep insisting at Saturday's meeting, for her to accompany me at Red Bull," he explained desperately. "There's no other reason beyond that, I swear."

"I'm not making a scene or anything," she said, returning to the previous conversation and avoiding her boyfriend's latest revelation. "I'm just trying to vent with you."

Sebastian's patience was wearing thin. He no longer knew what else to do to make the girl beside him believe him.

"I love you, Hanna," Vettel said sincerely. "Why do you think, since those photos came out, that I'm hiding something from you?"

"I don't know, why have I never been to a race?" The girl looked at her boyfriend with sadness and frustration once again present in her mind.

Sebastian sighed, trying to find the right words. He knew she was having one of the many jealous episodes she'd been having since she found out about Wagner.

"You know as much as I do that you don't like races," he reminded her. "Plus, you wouldn't enjoy the paddock life. You even told me to keep this private!"

"Are you saying you want to hide me, don't you?"

"Stop twisting this and listen when I speak. You say whatever comes to your mind. This conversation makes no sense, Hanna," Sebastian imposed, a bit annoyed by the confusion his girlfriend was adding to the situation. "One thing is wanting to hide you, which I don't want to do," he clarified, "and another is wanting to protect our relationship, which is what you've been professing since I was called to be a reserve driver last season."

The room's atmosphere was tense, and neither of the twenty-year-olds knew how to proceed. Sebastian was tired not only of having to repeat the same story to Hanna a thousand times but also of her apparent lack of trust. On the other hand, Hanna had been trapped in a vicious circle of jealousy and envy for months, driven by the need to compete and prove herself better than a certain Diana, whom she didn't even know.

After a brief silence, Hanna finally spoke, trying to hide the idea that had come to her mind:

"I've thought about something..."

"What?" Sebastian looked at her with curiosity, a bit scared of what she might say.

Hanna faked a smile too well. Her eyes, however, betrayed her intentions, although Sebastian was too blinded and distracted to notice:

"Starting next season, I want to accompany you on some weekends, as long as the university allows it, of course," the driver was totally surprised by the girl's statement, who continued speaking. "I've been thinking that it would be nice to stop being so perfectionist in my studies to spend more time with you."

"Of course!" Seb exclaimed happily, giving her a hug, unaware that she was lying, despite knowing her so well. "Don't worry about anything. We can plan everything and find weeks when you don't have exams or any assignments to submit with Britta next week, okay? She already has the schedule for next year, and..."

Hanna nodded slightly, indifferent to the future damage she might cause to her, until then, boyfriend, who continued talking quite excitedly. She knew she wasn't behaving rationally, and envy was driving her actions, but why not? She had too often felt like the banished princess by her relatives, teachers, and people she had no relationship with, and the last thing she wanted was to relive that experience.

She loved Sebastian, and he loved her. Nothing and no one would stand in their way, and if she couldn't face the enemy with peace, she would try to do it with as little chaos as possible.

"I'm looking forward to you meeting Diana," Seb declared, causing a turmoil inside his girlfriend. "You'll get along well, I'm sure. You're more alike than you think."

"I'm also looking forward to meeting her, especially now that you told me she helped you win in Monza."

Hanna forced a smile, hiding her true feelings about the unknown woman. Sometimes, it was okay to be a little toxic to make your partner see reality, right?

Sebastian got closer to his girlfriend, placed his right hand on her face, caressing it gently, and kissed her on the lips. His eyes were fixed on hers, revealing nothing but sincerity.

"Hanna, you're the most important thing in my life, okay? There's nothing I haven't told you, and if something had happened, you'd know for sure," he clarified again. "You are my world and all I want is to be with you for as long as we allow ourselves to be together."

Hanna felt hurt and even guilty at that moment, regretting everything she had said without thinking, but it was too late to go back and repent. She tried, by all means, to set aside that kind of teenage game she had created consumed by wanting to prove to her boyfriend who she was, but she couldn't.

Now she had to try not to let herself be carried away and, above all, think before speaking and acting.

Without thinking, she pushed Sebastian as hard as she could, who raised himself a little above the surface to see what the blonde was going to do. She planted a rather aggressive kiss on her lips, and she lingered on it for a while before beginning to leave a trail of them from her mouth to her inguinal crease. She wanted to show the pilot many things, but in those moments she wanted to make him see that she was his.

Sebastian watched as Hanna began to take off his boxers and masturbate his member with her hand, taking it to her mouth a few seconds later. No matter how much pleasure he was feeling at that moment when he noticed how his girlfriend's tongue wrapped around his bud while she moved her hand incessantly, he couldn't help but feel bad when he wished, and even imagined, that Diana was the one doing that.

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x female oc #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #angst #smut #sebastian vettel smut #history #sebastian vettel history #diana vettel

[bullet-prooflove]

Distraction: David Hale x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators @bennykk @kelpies-shed

Companion piece to Graffiti and Crime Wave

David is a distraction.

A big one.

You can feel his gaze on you as you transition into warrior pose, arms stretched up above your head as you shift your weight to your left leg, the one that’s positioned in front of you.

Currently he’s sitting in your bed, the sheets pooling around his bare hips as his back comes to rest against the headboard. The newspaper he was reading rests in his lap, forgotten.

“You’re hard again aren’t you?” You murmur, the edges of your lips twitching up into a smile as you hold the pose for ten seconds.

“Maybe you should come over here and find out.” He suggests with mischievous look in his eyes.

“After I finish this routine.” You promise and he exhales audibly as you move into the dancer.

This is his favourite pose, the one that really gets him going and he shows you how much by wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking it slowly. Already you can feel the heat building between your legs, the seam of your leggings rubbing in just the right place.

“You aren’t playing fair.” You say as you hold your pose, counting down the seconds.

“Neither are you.” He comments, his voice a little rough as he thrusts up into his palm.

There’s a flush creeping up his neck already and fuck, it gets you off seeing him like this. He knows it too, it’s in the way his chin juts up as he meets your gaze, his teeth biting down on his lower lip.

It’s a test of wills, who breaks first.

His jaw clenches, his head tipping back against the wall as he watches you.

“Fuck, you see what you do to me?” He mutters as his cheeks turn pink. “Don’t even have to be touching you and I’m about to come all over myself.”

It’s those words that make you crack, the knowledge that you can do this to him, that he lets you. He smiles as you approach him, that shit eating grin that says he’s won and it isn’t until now that you realise just how much you’ve come to love it, how much you love him.

He has you on your back, his lips on yours before you’ve barely climbed on to the bed. Every one of his kisses feels like sunshine on your skin as his calloused palms chase over your body, undressing you until your naked underneath him. He grabs the base of his cock, guiding it to your moist core, the tip positioned in just the right place.

“Are you ready for me?” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

It always comes down to this, that moment where he asks because for David this is always about you,  your comfort, your pleasure.

“Always.” You murmur and he sinks in slowly, filling you until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. His mouth covers yours, stifling the moan that leaves your throat. Your fingers entwine as he begins to move in long, slow strokes, every single one raking over that deviant little sweet spot.

The ecstasy, it crashes through you in waves, each one washing over you, drowning you until the only thing you can focus on is the sensation of David inside you, loving you.

When the fall comes it’s all consuming, it steals away your breath, your sanity and everything else in between as your thighs tighten around David’s hips, drawing him deeper. He moans into your mouth, his release spilling inside of you as you grip him so fucking tightly it feels like he’s losing his mind.

His kisses are messy, languid, his hands caressing you every inch of you because he knows it’s intense when you’re with him, that you need to feel grounded in the aftermath.

The men before him, they never cared for you, they never loved you, not the way that he does. He tells you that as he lays there tangled up in you because he can’t hold back any longer. He can’t imagine a future without you in it.

“I love you.” He whispers, his thumb ghosting over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. “I have since the moment we met.”

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#david hale #david hale x reader #deputy chief hale #deputy chief david hale #soa

[bumblingbabooshka]

I don’t typically like when star trek characters reference legacy characters just to talk about how great and perfect they are but I do like this route where even though Tuvok calls him a great visionary in the end he brings Spock up to say he argued with him. I think this is the way of the future. Lean in. Star Trek characters should say things like ‘An old man cut me off in space traffic the other day. I think it was McCoy?’ and another should nod and shake their head like he’s always doing that shit

#'I met Jonathan Archer and he smelled like wet dog?? Seemed nice though.' <- more stories like this #Also since Janeway idolizes ppl like Sulu I want her to occasionally bug Tuvok for more stories about working with him after she finds out #that they were alive at the same time on the same ship and have Tuvok begrudgingly tell her I don't know...we didn't talk much and I was #busy at the time...one time Kirk sneezed on the bridge. It was quite loud. #<- what he doesn't say is that Tuvok had a handkerchief but did NOT give it to Kirk bc he was concerned about being called a suckup again #Tuvok what do you MEAN you 'spoke out against [it]'??? You aren't a politician??? HEHEHE did you write an open letter??? #Tuvok old man moments...Tuvok's children cringing: dad please DON'T bring up your initial opposition to the Klingon-Federation alliance #Tuvok's low estimation of Klingons...B'Elanna..you sit back. I'LL get him!!!!! #I mean everyone in star trek ever like every non klingon character has a low estimation of Klingons for Some Reason* #*You Know. #but I'm a Tuvok girlie so it's my job to rake him across the coals for it from time to time v_v #-sniffs and salutes- gotta kill that old man for my babygirl -fires a cartoon canon at him and he flies into the sky and becomes a star- #love you Tuvok <3 #Tom I smashed with a mallet #cartoonishly large for whimsy but just overall more gruesome

[munamania]

i won’t screenshot the dms bc i don’t feel like opening the latest message but EYE posted on my story abt the tiktok pictured below basically about how i got horny thinking abt someone working through a difficult math problem lol don’t worry abt that anyway sam slides up bc i cut part of it out so as to avoid insta censors and my slight embarrassment lol and was like does that say c*m and i was like well yes and then he was like haha what you’re into math… girl u have to walk w the thought process 😑 which i know you’re incapable of anyway so i vaguely responded like ah yeah what being away from stem for so long will do to u and he responds with like ten messages. including. ‘you gotta do it yourself’ that’s not the point 🙄 ‘you know how i’m terrible at talking to women’ wow really ‘so i realized i can calculate the speed of cum’ ‘bc i have some data’ DID I ASK?????!???!?!!!?!!!!! hello there’s oversharing and then there’s this… does the girl you’re having sex with know you share to this extent. and then he said how he accidentally brought this up to someone irl to be like haha awk whoops and i was like yeah well there r times where perhaps we need to self censor. and then i also get a message that’s like ‘hang on im doing the math’ IM NEVER EVER EVER GONNA BE ATTRACTED TO U I HOPE U KNOW THAT SCREAAMMMMM (and u need to know bc he’s genderfluid. im only using one set of pronouns for clarity on here ok i promise im not a dick. but he thinks he’s like. an exception for lesbians basically… like he doesn’t Count…. and like look im no essentialist im all for like freaky gender sex but also at so many other turns you do take advantage of being seen as a white male so. i don’t. yeah.) he’s kind of like the creepy dude at the edge of the friend group in high school named matt who would constantly harass me and my ex but like tried to be so lowk abt it. and it’s so bad basically. ‘17mph is crazy’ i hope you fall in an intersection sorry i can’t do this anymore 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 so pissed i have to see him tmrw i should be able to watch mmxxl w scully in peace

#like. WHAT possesses a person to say all this #it’s not like i’ve never talked abt sex stuff w sam or friends i mean look at my major and shit we’re watching we’re all adults here #but like HUUUUHHHHH???? on my silly little story about wanting to watch someone do calc or some shit… shut up… #it’s actually insufferable and i need u all to know. it has not always been to #like. this egregiously bad. certainly there are some flags i missed over time even when we first met maybe but he was significantly #more chill last year.. at least as far as i interacted w him. this is like. yeah idk #and just any time we’re together in person now he launches into whatever is on his mind or he’s up to at that moment what happened to hello #how are you etc. not that i can even like stand conversation esp like. dude we haven’t talked since the day we recorded the podcast #assignment which was also egregious. why would you start off like this. hello #abby talks #i hope his other roommate like beats him up or something. wont happen but well #AND more importantly. do i wear a mini skirt tmrw if i’m seeing roommate #we’re supposed to but we were also hoping to hang outside and now it’s gonna rainnnn but we’ll see #i don’t usually go for a cunty little fit on a monday. but i could. AND i get to go to class a half hour late

[doggytail-duck]

Watched the MLB movie finally! While I had a few Notes, all in all I enjoyed it, the animation was so pretty and I was really impressed how they condensed so much stuff into one movie

#like sure they changed stuff and moved stuff around #and things were left out (for a possible sequel?) #but as an adaptation it's pretty good i think #if they had tried to cram anything more into One Movie it would've ended up a jumbled mess #i think they made a good choice in doing the origin story and the hawkmoth plot as the main things #and have other adventures as a montage of the heroes growing closer as time goes on #and i feel like marinette was written better than in the show imo #sure it's been a while since i've watched the show so idk what's going on there right now but still #my only Notes tm for the moment are basically how adrien got the ring and how adrinette met #and that's about it #like we should 100% have been SHOWN Why adrien was chosen too and not just Have The Ring Show Up you know? #and i personally really liked the origin story of adrinette being marinette not caring about adrien's money or looks or status #and kind of being like :/// about him because she thinks he's a rich douche #but then finding out how KIND that boy is and THEN starting to fall for him #the movie version was Fine i guess but i would've liked to see the 'oh shit he's actually super nice i was wrong' #it was just so basic 'girl meets boy and falls in love' meet cute and while there isn't anything WRONG with that.. idk #it's just more boring than 'dude you kinda suck - except holy shit you don't? you're really nice?? oh no' #and it made marinette's crush seem different from how everyone fawns over adrien because of his status #otherwise though? can't really think of much to complain about #the songs were a Surprise for sure but i personally didn't mind them i love movie musicals #however there were a bit too many of them maybe? or idk #maybe the songs could've been tweaked a bit to stand out more imo but that's probably more a me thing than anything #hawkmoth's song slapped though lol #i was basically like ??????????? and :DDD at the same time (positive) #also i laughed so fucking hard at the end screen cut lmaooo #anyyyway i'm probably gonna reblog gifsets now bc man the animation was prettyyy #personal #miraculous ladybug #mlb movie

[shisurus]

this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.

as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.

and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.

but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.

so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.

but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.

so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.

#im listening to fmab sad soundtrack while writing this im gonna die actually #dungeon meshi #laios touden #falin touden

[neo-nomatrix]

Sunshine and Midnight Rain

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

word count: 851

summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story

a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING

Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.

You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.

“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.

“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.

“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?

“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.

“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.

“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.

“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”

——————

“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.

“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.

“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.

“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.

You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.

“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.

“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.

“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.

“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.

“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.

“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.

“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.

“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.

“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.

“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.

“He was always my favorite,” he adds.

“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.

“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.

Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.

“You’re staring, again” You mention.

“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.

You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.

“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.

“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”

——————

It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.

As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.

“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.

“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.

You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”

“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks

“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.

“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.

“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”

And maybe, just maybe, he could.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo x you

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Easy To Be The Favourites - LN

Request from @steadytacowitch - can u write about lando and y/n being the it couple and a Tik tok complication of them plssss.i love ur writing so much <333

No part 2 requests please

Lando wouldn't say he was unattractive or unappealing before he met y/n. But the boyfriend effect was certainly working it's magic and he would put it all down to y/n's presence and influence.

She's quite an unbothered person who has fun and only cares about the opinions of people she knows. But has also be enjoying the fans love for her and Lando's relationship. Especially when they give her credit for making Lando have a bit of a glow up and just a general glow about him since he started dating y/n.

The two do get hate both individually and collectively, as to be expected, but generally they are loved as a couple and document everything with each other. Lando even came close to making a joint account just so he could make daily posts of his girlfriend.

"Baby." Lando whispers capturing the moment of her doing her lip liner and zooming in on her as she looks at him through the reflection then turning to face him quickly while he grins at her. "You look so pretty."

"Shut up. Weirdo." Y/n jokes since she does bully Lando a little. She really can't accept a compliment to save her life, like most British people.

"See guys, y/n loves me so much." Lando states flipping the camera to capture himself.

He posts the moment knowing that it'll be in yet another video that is somewhat viral within the F1 community. There's actually almost a war of y/n and Lando vs Alex and Lily of who wins as the couple goals.

Y/n always insists they have the edge. But really she isn't bothered because she only cares about Lando.

-

Walking into the paddock together is certainly something that has became a moment that McLaren social media team have made a habit of wanting to capture every single time.

Today Lando decides to mix it up, dropping y/n's hand which makes her turn and almost look hurt before he quickly makes a gesture with his hands. Forcing her to be the centre of the camera lens and she catches on, instead doing a bit of a power walk before shaking her head and laughing.

"Come on, I can't have a moment without you." Y/n laughs and the McLaren team they've just captured pure gold. Not that they should be so focused on Lando's relationship rather than his on track performance.

But fans love seeing the two and not delivering that to them is almost an insult.

"Sorry, baby." Lando laughs as he relinks their hands and continues walking.

-

Lando has caught y/n on camera several times watching edits of them. He's even caught her saving them when she is especially impressed or thinks it's a cute moment that she wants to keep for herself. There's also been moments he's caught her watching and then moved to show him the videos only to realise that Lando is recording her.

There's whole compilations just of those exact moments.

She's reposted some of them on her stories.

"Lan, look at this one." Y/n gasps as they sit for lunch out in the sun. Her phone being handed over to him to show him another fan edit. "You're soooo cute. Aww..."

There's no doubt in Lando's mind, though some of his fans might argue it, but y/n is his number 1 fan. She has yet to miss a single race weekend since they started dating, they met through her being a fan of the sport and fans have seen the evidence she was a fan of his before she started dating him.

Pictures of her attending races and even just in her pre-Lando posts online, she had his merchandise that she wore shamelessly.

"We are a bit of an IT couple." Y/n comments absently making Lando smirk since he has said it for months now and y/n was always hesitant to give himself the label.

"We are definitely an IT couple, y/n." Lando smiles while catching his own LN4 admin catching the moment. No doubt it will be posted later since they also like to capture Lando and y/n's relationship nonstop.

-

Y/n does lives when she's getting ready, sometimes she live streams when she's doing random stuff. She once live streamed cleaning the apartment while Lando was over in Woking for a couple days.

"Ok, guys. I promise Lando is going to learn to make one meal. I'm teaching him to make a meal." Y/n states setting up her phone while Lando stands half in frame waving at the live as more and more people join. "Babe, what we making?"

"Tacos. Y/n is in the mood for tacos so we're making tacos." Lando grins moving to hug her, kissing her cheek as he does.

Y/n is busy reading the chat.

"No. Don't worry he's not handling knives. He's in charge of grating cheese and maybe I'll put him in charge of cooking the mince." Y/n smiles while Lando pulls a very much offended expression. "Sorry, baby."

Lando doesn't comment instead just grumbling a little before they start cooking.

The camera is positioned to sort of capture as much of the kitchen and their movement. Most of which ends up being Lando "helping" some of the time but most of the time he's doing anything to hug y/n or get her attention. Often managing to steal kisses and then get little bites of food from her. But the moments when he asks for her help and guidance in cooking his part of the meal.

"Hey, guys. How many of you are already plotting edits for this?" Lando asks when y/n disappears to the bathroom. "Tag y/n in all of them, she loves seeing you guys make videos of us. She spends hours watching them. But don't tell her I told you guys that-don't include this in the edits."

Obviously he already knows that request just means it is absolutely going to mean he's it's going to be exactly what is at the beginning of every edit that they make of the whole livestream which has pretty much fed fans a whole meal of couple content from them.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 x you #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren f1 #ln4 fanfic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour: Day 1

You and Jungkook are together for the whole weekend. All he truly wanted from you was to admit you were his girl - but like always, he had to fuck it out of you. @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.675

warning: dirty talk, nipple sucking, slight kissing, neck biting, edging, face-slapping, cocky/jealous/possessive/dominant jungkook, bitchy/shit-talking but submissive reader, creampie, crying, begging,

“You cooked this?” your mother is first to ask once she bites into the meat, eyes growing slightly wide. “It tastes amazing.”

Jungkook gives a toothy grin and nods. “I added a secret sauce that my father has taught me.” 

You want to roll your eyes at Jungkook.

Dinner was going by smoothly. Around 20 minutes ago, your parents arrived. Your father appeared much the same, nonchalant and just ready to eat. Your mother did most of the talking. Her eyes roamed the apartment with prying eyes. She asked Jungkook and you questions after questions, all of which Jungkook responded to quickly and without hesitation. 

“How did you two really meet?” your mother asks after a moment. “I assume it couldn’t have been tweeter.”

You scoff. “No. It was not twitter.”

Jungkook places a hand atop yours and laughs. He wraps his fingers into your own and eyes you. He then brings your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “We met at the University.” Jungkook nods. “She was so cold to me at first.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Typical of her.”

“I must’ve asked her out a million times. I was shut down each and every time. Right, baby?”

You want to snatch that smirk off of his lips, but you only roll your eyes. 

“I think she got tired of my begging and agreed to a date.” Jungkook turns to your mother. “Ever since then, I’ve been attached to her like a lost puppy.”

Your father listens, not interested in speaking, but interested enough to appear apart of the conversation. “I’m glad.” your mother speaks. She takes a sip of her water. “Y/N can be a little mean.”

You knit your brows, but before you can speak Jungkook cackles. “She can!” he agrees.

Oh wow, you think. 

“But that’s what I love about her. She’s feisty and stubborn.” Jungkook looks your way, his eyes burning into you. You glance away from them and grunt, feeling hot. “And she always speaks up for me at restaurants when they get my order wrong.”

“That was once.” you quip. “You asked for extra sauce…”

“I did.” Jungkook nods. “I thought she was going to rip someone’s head off.” he tells your mother jokingly. “At least I know she cares.”

Jungkook was right - he had won over your mother.

That was expected, however. Your mother was easy to please. Jungkook was the equivalent of tall, dark and handsome. He’s easy to speak with and was such a smooth talker that it even had her swooning. He was affectionate, often kissing your hand or your head - more than usual, but you told yourself he was milking this to the very end. 

Now, your father was a different story. He was able to engage the man into conversation and actually hold it, having your fathers full and undivided attention. That is when you realized that Jungkook meant what he said - that even if this fake dating didn’t end with the both of you actually dating, that Jungkook would be there regardless. Your mother was already inviting him to dinner the following week and even hugged him before leaving - before she hugged you. 

“I’ll see you two next week?” your mother asks as she’s strolling out the door.

Jungkook wraps you in a tight embrace, his head resting on your shoulder. “You will!” he responds to her, waving curtly. “Y/N tells me about your cooking all the time. I can’t wait!”

You grumble - it was all the time, but you weren’t aware Jungkook was actually listening to your random ramblings. He was slowly winning your mother over that you were sure she would have him for dinner even without you there.

“You think you’re cute?” you push Jungkook off of you once the door is shut. 

“Is that the thanks I get for making a good impression?”

You cross your arms. “You know what you were doing complimenting her the entire night.”

Jungkook smirks. “Like mother, like daughter. You both like my praises.” Jungkook’s hands are on you again, bringing you closer to him. “I have to keep myself on top if I’m going to be competing against these boyfriends.”

Your hands are against his chest to push him away. “Ugh, take me home.”

“You aren’t staying the weekend?” Jungkook pouts his lips slightly. “We have to finish binge watching Law & Order.”

“You’re right.” you sigh for a moment. “And here I thought I had a chance to get rid of you.”

“You never can.” Jungkook’s right hand slaps your ass. You yelp, but it was only a gesture to bring you closer to him. He pecks your lips. “Let’s get going. We have the entire weekend ahead of us.”

The night shouldn’t have ended like this. You told yourself that you and Jungkook wouldn’t be entangled together - especially since you were watching Law & Order - there was no way Jungkook could ignore such an amazing series to get his cock wet.

But Jungkook had. 

It started with light touching. Jungkook’s bed is soft and it’s easy to be comfortable. He had gave you a shirt to wear - even if you had a weekend's worth of clothes - he insisted it would be best. You were certain he just wanted you in his shirt to appear more domesticated. 

Your first mistake was not wearing anything but the shirt and panties. Jungkook’s hands wandered upon your skin, his body dangerously close to yours. His hips would rut against your ass, prying hand going beneath the oversized shirt. “Just one kiss, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” was what he said - and you caved.

Of course it could never be one kiss. One peck led to him begging for more - and more. It led to him flipping you to face him, his hand squeezing the flesh of your ass to bring you closer to him. It continued with you being on top of him, tongues fighting against one another. His hands stayed upon your ass, rubbing gently as you and he kissed.

“We’re missing the show.” you protest, breaking free of the heated kiss. 

“We can always go back.” Jungkook eyes you with hooded eyes. “You look so pretty in my shirt.” he murmurs.

“Shut up, simp.” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“I can never compliment my girl without getting called a simp.” Jungkook tsks. His hands rub up your rib back down to your waist to your thighs. “It’s true, though. I wanna wake up with you like this every day.”

“I would have to actually be your girl for that to happen.” you retort. You gently grind against him, lips flashing him a mischievous grin. 

“You are my girl.” Jungkook hisses low, hands squeezing your hips to keep you firmly against him. “I got you in my shirt, don’t I?”

Jungkook and his logical comebacks. Damn him.

“I got you to stay with me this weekend, right?” Jungkook continues, his tongue coating his lips with moisture. 

“So?”

Jungkook manages to lift himself up without disrupting you. You and he are face to face now, your thighs caging him in between you. 

“So that makes you my girl.” Jungkook pecks your lips. “I know you like being called my girl, Y/N. Each time I say it you grind against me a little harder.”

Truly, fuck Jeon Jungkook because damn was he right.

“Exactly.” Jungkook murmurs, and for a second you believe he’s going to say something else - a comment that would indicate just how “down bad” you were for him. But no, Jungkook continues to stare at you.

You shift in his lap and with that, Jungkook blinks. “You’re really pretty.” 

You frown, knitting your brows together in an attempt to be annoyed - even if your heart did jolt. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook continues, his arms embracing you. “Far too stubborn to admit.”

“Is this how you ask out all your girls?” you snort, but feel yourself melting in his warm embrace. “Just demand for them to be with you?”

“There you go, Y/N.” Jungkook chuckles. “You go in that head of yours and start being delusional and fantasize me being with other girls.”

“Excuse me?” Delusional?

“Why are you adamant on me having multiple girls?” Jungkook gently kisses your forehead just because he knows it annoys you - his random acts of affection or kindness in a situation that is deemed “serious”.

You shrug your shoulders. “You fit the fuck boy aesthetic.” was all you say.

Jungkook snorts. “You think I have girls lining up to suck my dick in exchange for streaming services?”

You gasp. “We said we wouldn’t bring that up!” you hiss. 

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” Jungkook smiles. “I just don’t see how you think I’m a fuck boy even now. I barked in order to meet your parents. I’m still getting laughed at in the groupchat.”

You suppress your own laughter, only giving Jungkook a grin.

“I basically fund your whole lifestyle. I think that’s far beyond a fuck boy.” Jungkook adds - but not in a way to throw it in your face or to appear as though you need him to. 

“A sugar daddy at best.” you shrug, but even you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on Jungkook’s face. “You do know you aren’t obligated to buy me things.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes - it was the same song and dance as before. He’d get you something he heard you speak about once a few days prior - you would insist it wasn’t a need, but the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to keep doing it. 

“As my girl…” Jungkook places a kiss at the nape of your neck. “...it’s required of me to.”

“Until you get bored and throw me to the side.” you feel Jungkook’s teeth bite down on your neck. 

“You do everything but admit you like me, baby.” Jungkook presses you firmly against him. “I’m beginning to think that’s what you want me to do so you can remain in denial.”

Jungkook’s hands go beneath the large shirt of his you wore. Your skin is so soft and smooth - the both of you shudder. 

“You’re okay.” you murmur, biting your lip when you feel both of his hands engulf your breasts. 

“Just okay?” Jungkook’s tongue twirls on the spot he bit. “I can have you on your back begging for me in seconds, baby. Nothing about me is ‘just okay’.”

Your play hard to get was not going to last - especially not now. The cocky Jungkook was creeping in, and he knew that your words were nothing but bluffs.

“I’m sure I would be the same way with someone else.”

You couldn’t help it. It was a game for you at times to rile up Jungkook. He was the jealousy and competitive type - he had to prove that he was the best at any and everything he did. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Jungkook chuckles, but you can hear the slight irritation in his voice - deep and raspy; ready to prove you wrong. You shudder slightly as goosebumps ride across your skin.

You really did. You were already wet enough, his hands and mouth adding to it. There was nothing like Jungkook fucking your petty words right out of you.

“You do this every time, Y/N.” Jungkook bites your neck harshly and you yelp, squirming. “You love messing with me. It must turn you on seeing me fuck the submission into you.”

You swallow thickly to suppress a moan. “I just give you what you want.” you shrug slightly. 

“What do I want?”

“Someone to moan for you no matter if it feels good or not.”

You were playing a dangerous game with Jungkook, but it just brings nothing but excitement through you. 

You yelp once more when you feel your hair being yanked. “You’re being a bitch again, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, but even he is amused by your attempts. You can never just tell him that you want him - never tell him that you want him to dominate. Instead, you deny or insinuate the opposite just to give him a reason to prove you wrong.

But Jungkook said it once before, he loved your ‘play hard to get’ game you played with him; when he had you it was much more satisfying. 

“Isn’t that what you like about me?” you tease, and even in the dim room - law and order playing ignored in the background - you are beautiful to him, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Love it.” Jungkook presses his lips firmly onto yours, his tongue sliding past your mouth. It’s quick and he’s rough, but you cannot protest. His hands are gripping your flesh so hard that you feel as though they’d leave a mark.

Jungkook yanks the shirt off of you, tongue instantly finding both of your breasts. Your legs are wrapped around him, his clothed cock pressing firmly against you.

“Why can’t you be normal?” Jungkook’s lips pops from your nipples, his tongue licking it furiously. “A normal girl would just tell me she wants me to be a little rough and not provoke it out of me.”

Jungkook grips both of your breasts into the palm of his hands and brings both of your nipples into his mouth.Your back arches at the warm sensation pooling through you. 

“I-I have to tell you how to fuck like a man?”

There was a new sensation when the words left your mouth and hit Jungkook’s ears. It’s a sensation that shoots straight to your core and leaves your cheek stinging.

The room is silent, Jungkook’s eyes wide watching your reaction for a moment. He’s ready to apologize for not thinking before he slaps you, but it’s your moan that draws him back to reality.

“You liked that?” Jungkook murmurs and you nod, biting your lip. Jungkook grunts, his mind wandering just how far you’d let him go.

Jungkook unwraps your legs from around him and removes himself from the bed. He drags you to the edge of it, you yelping at the sudden movement. Jungkook removes your panties and widens your legs. He’s cocky - through the flashing television light, he see’s how wet you are for him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” Jungkook demands.

You swallow, finding it difficult underneath his intense gaze. Jungkook lowers himself, burying his tongue deep within your folds. He forces your legs open each time you threaten to close them. His eyes are locked onto your fluttering ones, watching as you moan and cry for him. You were so beautiful for him - if only you’d allow him to admire your beauty. Oftentimes when he looked your way, you were quick to respond with a witty remark.

“Fuck…” you groan, breaking eye-contact just as he enters his fingers inside of you. You lay your head back and continue to pant. 

“You never allow me to treat you nicely.” Jungkook removes his tongue from your clit to spit on it, continuing his pumping. “If you’d let me, I would take good care of you.” Jungkook licks his lips, the wet sounds of your pussy like a melody to his ears. “But instead, you want to be a bitch. I don’t get it.”

“K-Kookie…” you draw out a moan, a hand cupping your breast. You can feel the familiar churning in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum-”

“No you aren’t.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you, hand slapping your clit. 

Your eyes shoot open, your pussy clenching around nothing. “W-What-”

Your mouth is stuffed with Jungkook’s fingers, your tongue twirling around them. 

“See how good you taste?” Jungkook questions, removing his fingers to grip your chin tightly. “I would let you cum but…I’m sure you can always find someone else to do it. Since you enjoy faking so much.”

Your heart is pumping and you flush hot with embarrassment. You aren’t sure what to say - Jungkook had you beat. 

“Aw,” Jungkook chuckles. “You look so sad, baby. I can let you cum.”

You swallow, glancing away from Jungkook. 

“Is that what you want?”

You nod your head, but Jungkook wants to hear you. 

You yelp when your clit is slapped once more. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes!” you try not to moan and sound too desperate, but it’s inevitable. 

“Yes what, baby?” Jungkook’s already tugging his bottom half off, his underwear going along with it. His shirt is next, chisel abs in your line of vision that you groan at just the sight. “Tell me what you want, Y/N. You have a mouth any other time.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his cocky attitude.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his amazing dick that has you following along with him. “Please fuck me.” you sigh in defeat. “Please make me cum, Kook.”

“With pleasure.” Jungkook is delighted. He slaps the top of his cock against your clit, licking his lips. “So wet. To think you said someone else can have you like this.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to let that go - you can only imagine how hard he was going to fuck-

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout in surprise at how hard he enters you, his thrusting increasing by the second. Your back slams against the bed with each thrust, and it only bounces back just as hard. 

“You can handle it, Y/N.” Jungkook hisses, fingernails digging into your flesh. “You don’t want me to be nice, you don’t want to be my girl…”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting heavily. Jungkook’s tone appears serious - you’d have to ask later on if your words really got to him like they appeared to have. 

“I let you…fuck…” Jungkook’s head hangs, eyes unsure where to focus. Your breast bounced furiously in rhythm with his pounding. Your face is scrunched with pleasure, a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth. “...I let you sit on my face. I let you spend as much of my money as you’d like with no limit. I…”

Jungkook grips your chin once more, forcing you to focus on him. It’s difficult - Jungkook doesn’t allow you a second to breathe, but you don’t want him to. 

“And all I really ask you to be is my girl.”

It pains for him to remove himself from you - all he wants is to cum deep inside of you like you’d allow him before. But - his pride and ego got the best of him. If you were going to front as if you didn’t need him to cum, then you weren’t.

“Kook…” you cry in defeat, pussy once more clenching around nothing. 

Jungkook laughs, a dark glee in the tone. “And like I said before, Y/N…” your eyes flutter a bit looking at his face - dark lust filled eyes staring right into yours. “...I can have you on your back begging for me, can’t I?”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Your chest heaves. “Fuck you.” you curse at how meek your voice appeared.

“I bet you’d like that baby.” Jungkook plays with your clit slightly. “You’re my girl, right?”

You lick your lips, thighs quivering. 

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” Jungkook centers his tip at your entrance, thumb circling against your wet bud. “That’s all I want from you, baby. You can have anything you want from me…”

Jungkook enters you slowly this time. Your groan is long and deep, your hands reaching out to grab Jungkook’s bicep. 

“J-Jungkook.” you trail off - the pleasure now getting to you. You just wanted to cum by him - his hands, mouth, cock, whatever it took.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook breathes - he’s unsure himself if he’d be able to last long like this and then his ego would be hurt (but then again, he wouldn’t have blueballs).

“Please make me cum, Kookie.” you wail, hot tears falling down your face. You had to look utterly pathetic weeping for dick. Jungkook’s ego was now going to skyrocket and this moment is something he would forever hold over your head - no jokes from you could ever be taken now. “I had you on your back crying for me, baby” - you can hear it now.

But - you were desperate. Jungkook was hot, his dick was amazing and you’d allow him to have this over you. 

“I’m your girl, Kookie.”

Jungkook shudders - and now he’s truly satisfied. He pounds into you sloppily, certain that neither of you were going to last long. You’re clenching around him so heavenly, moaning and crying his names that he cannot help but want to cum inside of you each and every time. 

“I know you’re close, baby.” you hear Jungkook say, his forehead - moist with sweat - pressed onto yours. “We can come together, okay?”

“Y-Yea…” you nod, but you wrap your arms around Jungkook and press your lips against his. You’re groaning against the kiss, already cumming on his cock.

Jungkook feels the electric shock go through him and he shudders. With a few more thrusts, Jungkook cums inside of you, trembling at the sensation.

Ten minutes it’s what it took for you and Jungkook to come back to reality. You’re sweaty and you haven’t even done anything.

“You wanna shower?” Jungkook’s voice pipes in. “Are you okay? I didn’t go too overboard, right?”

You nod your head. “I’m okay.” you murmur. 

Jungkook nods. He kisses your temple. “I can start the shower for you-”

“You aren’t coming?” you ask once you feel Jungkook shuffle on the bed.

“I-I..” Jungkook’s eyes are wide and doe like. He appears completely surprised that you offered such a thing. “You’d like me to?”

You laugh at his expression. How you manage to remove yourself from the bed is beyond you - your legs are shaking with pain that you’re not upset about. 

Jungkook feels your hands against his bare chest and he tilts his head, awaiting your response. “I said I was your girl, wasn’t I?” you murmur, sending a kiss to his chest.

In seconds, Jungkook is erect again at just the admission. 

Series Masterlist

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[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader

Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language!

Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents.

Wordcount: 5.4k

A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

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“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

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[springtyme]

hii!! i saw ur inbox open and was wondering if i could request this; so, imagine dad!simon (or konig idm!!) having his son / daughter see his face for the first time since they were born and theyre just kinda sitting there like :000?? hes so pretty?? while yn is just screaming in the back?? <33 have a great day n thnaks for reading x

𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, I had such a good time writing this! I love writing dad!Simon so much! ♡ but also, ngl, the image of this big bloke wearing a mask in front of his baby seems borderline comical to me.

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Your daughter finally sees her father's face for the first time.

word count: 2.2k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom, you slowly begin stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you slowly settle into wakefulness, you hear the screeching sound of the baby monitor on your nightstand coming to life and you feel how your heart flutters happily in your chest as a familiar sound comes through. The sweet sound of your daughter’s happy coos, accompanied by Simon’s deep, gentle voice, fill the room with sweetness. 

“Morning, sweet pea,” Simon’s voice crackles through the monitor followed by the sound of your baby happily gurgling at her father and then exclaiming a little more whiny sound. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re hungry, but we have to get you changed before we can make breakfast, lovie.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you lie there, basking in the warmth and comfort of your bed. The love and joy that echo through the monitor remind you of just how much love fills your home. It’s moments like these that make your heart swell with an indescribable sense of happiness.

Your mind wanders, and you find yourself reminiscing about the journey that brought you here. 

From the moment you and Simon first met, there was an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited and grew into a love that was both fierce and tender. However, it hadn’t been that easy to convince him that he in fact was deserving of such love. He had been scared that he would mess it up, mess you up, convinced himself that he wasn’t able to make anyone happy and that he was broken beyond repair. But you had been rather insisting, and he had finally let his walls crumble and let you into his heart. 

And as you had expected, all his worries had been unfounded. He is the best, most loving partner you could ever have dreamt of. 

The love you share with him is a love that feels like home.

And then, the arrival of your daughter added a new dimension to your love story. From the first time you had held her tiny hand, you knew that your family was complete. Watching Simon transform into the most loving and doting father has only deepened your admiration and affection for him.

And as you lie here,  reminiscing on your life, you can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the love that surrounds you. 

With a content sigh, you finally pull yourself out of bed, ready to start the weekend with your little family. 

As you make your way down the stairs you can hear the sound of your daughter’s laughter from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth and you can’t help but smile and make your way towards the source of the joyful commotion. As you enter the room, the morning sun gently illuminates the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room, and you are greeted by a heartwarming sight. Simon is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of millet porridge, your daughter’s favourite, while she is sitting in her highchair, which has been moved away from the kitchen table and closer to the counter, so she can see what Simon is doing, clapping her hands in delight.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the comforting scent of the porridge. You can’t help but feel a surge of immense love and gratitude for the man who stands before you, effortlessly balancing the roles of partner and father.

Simon turns towards you. “Good morning, love,” he greets you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, the bottom half of his face covered by a black mask. He had started to wear it around the house again after your daughter had been born.  

“Good morning,” you reply, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and adoration. “I see you two are having quite the breakfast party.”

Simon laughs softly and nods. “We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed, but it seems that someone couldn’t wait,” he says, glancing at your daughter, who just giggles in response.

You walk over to them, planting a soft kiss on Simon’s masked cheek before planting another on your daughter’s, much chubbier, one. “Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed. This is the best way to wake up,” you say, gazing at your little family with a heart full of love.

Together you finish cooking breakfast, porridge for the baby and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for you and Simon.

You begin to set the table as Simon picks up your daughter, supporting her with one arm as he settles her on his hip, so he can move her chair back to the table, but before he can grab the chair he stops dead in his tracks.

Your little girl has grabbed a fistful of his mask in her tiny hand. She doesn’t seem to be pulling on it, or otherwise trying to take it off him, but she also doesn’t seem to want to let go of it when Simon gently takes her hand to get her to release her grip.  

“Sweetheart, please…” Simon says softly, but he trails off, a wave of emotions flickering over his eyes, but they end up having a sort of determinant look to them as they lock with his daughter’s.

You feel how your heart skips a beat as Simon lets go of her little hand to instead grip the place his mask is fastened.  

With a deep breath, Simon removes the mask, revealing his face to your daughter for the very first time in her young life. You feel goosebumps rise along your arms as Simon’s features come to light. The room falls silent, and time seems to stand still.

Your daughter’s gaze is fixed on Simon, you can see a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her little face. 

It’s a pivotal moment that holds the power to change everything. You can see how Simon, too, feels a mix of emotions coursing through him. 

He has once mentioned to you that he was afraid that his scars would scare her, but you have had a suspicion that something else might be the reason he has kept the mask on in front of her for. 

He does have a few scars from his work, but they are nowhere near severe enough to scare anyone. You do have another theory to why he has kept it on, one he hasn’t directly confirmed, but a conversation from your pregnancy has stuck with you. 

He had voiced his concern that something would happen to him on the battlefield. not because he was that concerned for his own wellbeing, he knew what the risks of his job was, but because he was afraid of something happening to him, leaving you and your little one alone in the world. He had, on the whole, had many worries about becoming a father. 

He had been worried that his past had broken him so severely that he couldn’t be the dad your daughter needed him to be. Like the fear he also had about you and your relationship in the beginning of it, the fear that he couldn’t be the man you deserved. 

He has, in all the time you’ve known him, done everything to disprove that concern, he is the best partner you could ask for and now the most lovable dad to your little girl, but you know that he still has his concerns and that his feelings about them are valid. 

You think the mask has served as a sort of safety blanket for him. Like he thought that it would be easier for you and your daughter to lose him if your little girl couldn’t remember his face, or something like that. You find that thought heart rending.               

You know that his job comes with a risk, you had known it when you got together and you had known it when you married him and you had known it when you got your daughter. Losing him on the battlefield would be your worst nightmare come true. You know that he is smart, strong and capable, but you also know that there are no guarantees in war, which, to you, is just all the more reason for  your daughter to know her father’s face, but you have let Simon choose for himself when he was ready for that.  

But you don’t want to think about any of that right now, so you push those thoughts away, and instead let yourself be completely mesmerised by the sight before you   

Your little girl focuses on his, now revealed, face, taking in every detail. Her eyes widening in surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of fear, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she absorbs every detail of her father’s face. 

“It’s just me, princess,” Simon tells her, his voice filled with a mix of amusement, nerves and an overwhelming love for his little girl. His eyes, once guarded, now shine with warmth and affection. 

The confirmation of his voice is what convinces her. A wide smile spread across her little face, revealing the adorable dimples she has inherited from Simon, on her sweet, chubby cheeks. She lets out a happy squeal, as she realises that it really is her father who’s now smiling down at her, a set of dimples matching hers on his cheeks.    

She giggles happily, which, to you, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Her little hands starting to explore Simon’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the lines and contours of it. It’s a gentle and tender gesture that speaks volumes. You watch in awe as the beautiful moment between your daughter and her father unfolds in front of you. It’s a moment you will cherish forever. 

When she finally seems satisfied with her mapping of his face with her small hand, she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face, one that conveys something along the lines of ‘you seeing this too?’ Her eyes lighting up, reflecting the genuine joy that fills her little heart.

“Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy,” you smile at her, and she lets out another happy shriek before looking back at Simon again, happily nuzzling her little face into his neck. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You continue as you step forward, placing a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles over the dusty rose bodystocking that she is wearing, one that Simon picked out when he got her ready and you still laid in bed.   

You look up at Simon, a soft smile on his lips as your eyes lock. 

“He never wants to believe me when I tell him, but he is actually the most handsome man I know,” you say, with a playful glint in your eyes. “He’s probably the most handsome man in the whole world, actually.”           

Simon chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Oh, come on now,” he replies, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.“I think you might be a bit biassed there, love.”

You shake your head, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Nah, I don’t think I am,” you state, wrapping your arms around both Simon and your little girl in his arms. “Just stating facts. I actually got the most handsome husband and the most beautiful daughter in the whole wide world.” you say with a content sigh, hugging your little family tightly.  

It’s a hug that speaks volumes, conveying love, affection and acceptance. In this embrace, you know that you truly have the most beautiful family in the world.  

As you finally let go of them you place a sweet kiss on your daughter’s little nose. She giggles joyfully, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness over what a happy little girl you have. Simon seems to be thinking the same as he smiles down at her.  

But your adorable little troublemaker doesn’t seem to be done with causing havoc yet.   

She reaches out her tiny hand and grabs for the mask again. Simon hesitates for a moment, looking down at the fabric in his hand, the symbol of his past, before letting her have it. The mask, once a symbol of his doubts and fears, now becomes a simple toy for your daughter as she happily shakes it up and down, a cheeky grin on her little face. 

You and Simon lock eyes, and then the two of you burst out in laughter.  

As your laughter fills the room, a sense of pure joy washes over you. You look at Simon, his eyes sparkling with happiness, and you know in this moment, that the love and bond the three of you share is unbreakable, and it fills your heart with an indescribable warmth.

With a deep sense of gratitude and contentment, you take a mental snapshot of this beautiful moment. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in your mind, a testament to the strength of your love and the joy that radiates from your little girl.

As the laughter subsides, you gather your family close again, embracing the love and happiness that surrounds you. In this embrace, you know that you have everything you could ever need.

Your daughter’s laughter and Simon’s unwavering love fill your life with immeasurable happiness, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the beautiful family you have created.

#springtyme writes #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #dad!ghost #ghost x you #dad!simon #ghost mw2 #simon riley x f!reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod fic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley fic #ghost fluff #ghost fanfiction #ghost x yn #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fic

[seonghrtz]

teen!megumi ★ seeing you hurt is one of the things that has terrified megumi since he was a kid !

Megumi has always loved you. Perhaps from the moment Gojo carried him to your house when he was younger. You were the mother figure he never had, the person he knew he could rely on in any situation, the person he didn't have to be mature with all the time. You were always his safe haven.

Megumi may not have known how to express his own feelings or how to verbally express his adoration for you ⸻ he wasn't like Gojo, who was always making declarations of love to you. Sometimes Megumi envied Gojo for the ease with which he could say 'I love you' to you. But it never seemed to matter to you whether Megumi expressed his adoration for you verbally or not, it wasn't necessary as you understood it through his actions. You knew Megumi like the back of your hand and he was eternally grateful for that.

That's why one of Megumi's worst nightmares was losing you.

If he lost you, what would become of him? How would he manage without your care? How would Megumi survive in this world without being able to hide in your arms?

So when Megumi saw your exhausted and bruised body being thrown across the battlefield, he felt his whole body tremble and a sense of despair consume him.

Desperate, Megumi ran towards you, leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to fight the curse. And when he saw you lying on the floor with your eyes closed, bruises all over your exposed skin and bright crimson blood dripping from your forehead and mouth, Megumi's legs went weak and he fell to his knees beside you. With trembling hands Megumi grabbed your shoulders and rocked you, hoping that you would open your eyes and say that everything was fine. But unfortunately this utopian fantasy didn't come true.

Maybe it was all just a dream. A nightmare of that night ⸻ the night you sacrificed yourself to save Megumi when he was still a child. And if it was just a nightmare, Megumi would wake up at any moment and run into your arms. You would hold him with such affection and love that he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears because he knew you were all right.

But Megumi didn't wake up.

And it wasn't a nightmare, it was reality.

Megumi's voice faltered and he held back his tears, you were there, in front of him, injured, on the verge of death, and he could do absolutely nothing, powerless in a critical situation.

"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuji ran over to where Megumi was standing, "I think I'd better take Kamo-sensei to Shoko-san, Nobara's already called Kiyotaka-san.” The pink-haired boy looked at his friend and felt sad for him. Itadori had heard Megumi's story and how Gojo and Kamo had saved the little boy (and his sister) from the clutches of the Zenin clan. And Itadori also knew how much Megumi admired and loved the woman he called his mother, it was evident in his expression. "Come on, Fushiguro, we'd better go quickly if we don't want to lose her."

Without saying a word Megumi slipped his arms around your back and behind your knees and started to run with you in his arms to where the car was parked, waiting for the sorcerers.

The corridor was dark and cold. Megumi was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his head down, holding back his tears. He couldn't cry, he had to be strong ⸻ be strong for you. Megumi had to stay positive, Shoko would save you no matter what.

"It's going to be all right." Gojo's voice echoed through the silent corridor. Megumi raised his head and met his sensei's crystal blue orbs. "Y/n is one of the strongest sorceresses there is, she's seen worse.”

"It's my fault." Megumi's voice was deep, "It's my fault that she's in this situation..."

"Don't blame yourself Megumi. It wasn't your fault."

"I should have paid more attention and listened to her instructions."

"Situations like this happen all the time when you're a jujutsu sorcerer, don't blame yourself for something you couldn't do. And Y/n is fine, she'll be fine, I know my wife very well. And I also know that she would hate to see you get hurt on her watch, so don't blame yourself for giving her life to save you." Gojo's hand reached for Megumi's head, ruffling the boy's ebony locks. "You better go to your room, I'll call you when she wakes up."

"I don't want to go."

"Don't be stubborn. Y/n will make me sleep on the sofa if she finds out I've let you sleep in the hallway."

"That's your problem, I'm not going."

"Come on, Megumi! I thought we were past that stage." Gojo sat down beside Fushiguro. "Are you going to get the silent treatment now?" A short laugh escaped Gojo's lips when he noticed Megumi's lack of reaction. "Okay then…”

The next day, Megumi woke up to a conversation next to him. He noticed Gojo and Shoko talking outside the room you were in.

"Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?" Gojo smiled in the direction of Megumi who got up from the floor and stretched slightly, "She wants to see you."

"Is Mom awake?" He asked hopefully.

"Go ahead, I'll be right back with breakfast." Gojo gave Megumi a light squeeze on the shoulder before leaving with Shoko.

With a little trepidation Megumi slowly opened the bedroom door and saw you lying on the bed in the corner of the room, close to the wall. With light, quiet steps, the boy walked to the edge of the bed and stood, watching you. You were clean, not a drop of blood running down your face, and the bandages on your wounds were clean too. You were well. You were alive.

"Megumi..." You spoke quietly and opened your eyes, startling the boy a little.

"Mom..." his voice was weak, surprised and relieved at the same time.

You raised your hand and brought it close to Megumi's face. The boy, who had expected you to stroke his cheek with your thumb, was surprised when you tugged at his ear.

"Mom!"

"I told you to stay out of danger, Fushiguro Megumi." You said seriously, but then stopped pulling on his ear and hugged him, "Thank you for saving me.”

"You scared me..."

"I'm sorry, my dear." You smiled and released Megumi from your embrace, "I wouldn't let you get hurt, not for a second time."

"I'm not a child, I can take care of myself." A pout formed on Megumi's lips.

"I know, I know." You laughed at the younger man's reaction, "And of course you know how to handle yourself, you're my son, but you'll always be my little boy.”

Without thinking, Megumi hugged you again. Sinking his face into the curve of your neck, he felt a motherly affection that he had never known until he met you, and he let the tears roll down his cheeks.

After all, you were his mother and he was your son.

© SEONGHRTZ, 2023ㅤ⸻ㅤall rights reserved. please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

#五条悟ㅤ͏✷ㅤ𝑚. ͏𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝄒 #☆ . . seonghrtz !! #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk fushiguro #jjk fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff #megumi x mom!reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic