#well maybe more orange in tone but hey
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red cliffs
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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played
steddie | G | WC: 1154
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“Hey baby, can you?”
“No.”
Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”
“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”
“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”
“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.
“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”
He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”
“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.
“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.
“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”
He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”
“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”
It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.
“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”
“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”
“You aren't on speaker.”
“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”
“I don't recall.”
“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”
“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”
“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”
“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”
“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”
The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.
“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”
“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”
It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”
The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”
That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”
The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”
“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”
“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.
“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”
“Aspen, thank you really!”
Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”
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Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.
Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)
(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)
“Riiiiileyyyy.”
Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.
He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.
“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.
“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”
He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)
“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”
You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”
“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”
“Hey, I like bananas!”
He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”
You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.
“Don’t be icky, Riley.”
“Icky.”
“Gross nasty.”
“We’re name calling now?”
“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”
He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.
“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.
“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”
“Now who said you could go out?”
“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.
“I might.”
“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”
He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.
It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.
“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”
You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”
“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”
You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”
“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”
“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”
Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.
“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”
You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”
No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.
“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.
“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”
“Oh no.”
You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.
—
He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.
You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?
“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”
“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.
“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.
Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.
“Ah, it’s pretty late…”
“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”
Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.
“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”
Good girl.
“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”
“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”
There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.
“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.
“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”
“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”
And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.
That’s enough.
Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.
“Riley!”
Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.
“Did we wake you up?” you ask.
Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.
Very good girl.
“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.
You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.
“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”
“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.
Simon’s not playing along.
“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”
Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”
Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.
“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”
Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.
He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.
“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”
You audibly swallow, then nod.
“Thank you.”
“Good manners.”
#thoughts™️#cod#my writing#fanfiction#dark fic#reader fic#slasher ghost#charmed ghost#final girl reader
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J. Drysdale - Orange, Orange, Orange
✄————————————
Jamie Drysdale x Fem!reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warning(s): cuss words, reader wanting to strangle Trevor✨
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Everybody has their own playoff traditions. For most teams, it’s the beards. And every stadium also has a different approach. For the Anaheim Ducks and Honda Center, it’s ‘Paint It Orange.’
Jamie and Trevor go all out. Their apartment gets decorated completely. Orange throw pillows, orange plates and cups, orange shower curtain. Anything that can be replaced for cheap during the playoffs. It’s atrocious. I love seeing my boyfriend and his clingy bestie, but god I hate seeing that orange. It’s too much.
Do I tell them that? Absolutely not.
The boys love it. They love getting into the playoff spirit, and I’d even venture to say it’s a ritual now. A superstition that they add to every year. This year I was anticipating orange drapes or maybe even an orange carpet.. but I couldn’t have been farther from the right idea.
Trevor and Jamie had been radio silent all day. Both in our group chat and in individual texts. It was unlike them. Especially Jamie, who always texted me in the morning. I was suspicious, but I didn’t think too much into it. We were coming up on the first playoff game. Two days away. It was likely that they were only anxious. Antsy.
I thought maybe a quick box of donuts might be nice. I swung by a local donut shop and picked up two dozen before making the drive to their place. Jamie always enjoyed the jelly filled and chocolate covered ones, but Trevor had so many things he enjoyed that it was hard to remember all the flavors. And knowing these boys and their appetites, it was safer to get two dozen.
When I got to their place, I gently kicked their door with my foot a few times, seeing as my hands were full. I heard a faint, ‘coming’ from Trevor. I eyed the orange wreath on their door while I waited. It was new. That must have been the addition for this year’s playoff run. They hadn’t had one in a while. I would have expected something more drastic to celebrate.
When the door opened, I was met with a shirtless Trevor. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail -no doubt one I left behind at some point- and his shorts were covered in orange. His arms had a bit of the orange substance on them as well. My brow furrowed.
“Hey! You brought us donuts. That’s awesome.” Trevor smiled, “can you bring ‘em inside? Just toss them on the counter.” He stepped aside, letting me in before he shut the door and locked it.
“Trevor, what’s going on?” I asked as I walked through the house, greeted by the ugly oranges of their decorations. I set the boxes of donuts on the counter, opening one to pull out one of the jelly filled treats. I took a bite out of it as I turned to look at Trevor.
“Stuff.” He answered, nodding a little too dramatically for me to believe him.
“Where’s Jamie?”
“Out.” I didn’t like or believe that answer either.
“Doing what?” I pressed on.
“Hey! Who’s that?” I heard Jamie shout, his voice echoing from a room I could only assume was the bathroom. Trevor’s face fell the moment he knew he’d been caught in his own lie.
“It’s your girlfriend! She brought us donuts!” Trevor called, the volume of his voice irritating my ears. I winced.
“You’re such a liar, Trevor.” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.
“Tell her to come here! She can help!” Even yelling, Jamie’s voice sounded soft.
Trevor looked at me with a cautious gaze, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Why don’t you want me here?” I immediately asked, accusation in my tone. Trevor refused to answer right out.
“Oh boy…” he mumbled. Clearly, he knew whatever I was about to see, I was not going to like. “Come on.”
I followed incredibly close behind Trevor, contemplating a few times, simply pushing him out of the way. But once we got to the bathroom, I was glad we’d taken our time getting there. It gave me time to brace myself.
The gasp I drew in was second to none, horrified and surprised in the worst ways.
I stood there in shock for maybe a total of ten seconds. A ticking time bomb.
“So… you like it?” The optimism in Trevor’s voice set me off.
“What the fuck?” I shouted, staring down at my shirtless boyfriend and his lathered orange hair. “Jamie! What the fuck?”
Trevor was standing behind me, and I could tell the boys were looking at each other when my boyfriend’s eyes drifted past me.
“This is why I told you not to invite her.” Trevor mumbled. I spun on my heels.
“Because I don’t want my boyfriend looking like..” I paused, looking back at Jamie. He flashed me a nervous smile. “Like the Lorax?” I wasn’t necessarily angry.. just.. caught off guard. Nobody informed me of this. Nobody told me I was going to have to look at Jamie like this for possibly months.
“So you don’t like it?” Jamie’s smooth voice piped up, causing my tense gaze to move from Trevor back to the once dark haired man. I pursed my lips, trying to calm myself as I noticed the concern in Jamie’s features.
“I’ll be honest with you J.. I don’t. No.” His face fell. I shook my head as I kicked my shoes off and stepped onto the dirty towels on the floor. I glanced at him in the mirror, then back down to his figure sitting on a foldable chair. I immediately reached for a silky lock of wet orange hair, still covered in fresh dye. “Oh my god…” I mumbled, feeling like a mother with her child.
“That bad, huh?” Jamie inquired, eyeing my reflection in the mirror.
“I love you.. just.. not your orange hair.” He was slow to nod. Jamie never liked knowing I didn’t like something. I always tried to tell him that it didn’t matter. Just because I didn’t like something, didn’t mean he needed to change it or throw it away. But he always wanted to make me happy. I could tell though, that this stressed him out. Because he couldn’t easily fix this.
“It’s not that bad.” Jamie tried to reason.
“No it’s pretty bad.” I wanted to card my hands through his hair, but I couldn’t. These idiots. God knows what this would turn out like. “Jame- your hair is so dark.. what if this turns out looking like shit? Like actual shit? Did you guys even bleach it enough?” Jamie, nor Trevor had a good response. So instead, my boyfriend opted to change the topic.
“Trevor‘s gonna do it too.” I looked back at Trevor while Jamie’s eyes were fixed on himself in the mirror.
Trevor shook his head with a snicker. My brow furrowed at his amusement, and the lines connected when I noticed Trevor was not worried about his own perfect hair.
I realized quickly that this was not a playoff ritual. This was Trevor tricking his best friend into something embarrassing. I would have considered it a prank if I didn’t know how humiliated Jamie would be once he found out.
I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to grab Trevor by the hair and throw him off the roof. Instead, I came up with a much less hostile approach.
“Thats really sweet of you Trev. At least if it ends badly Jamie won’t look… orange all alone.” I cooed. Trevor looked confused, but I let him off the hook for a moment.
“I don’t like this look.. I really don’t, but if it’s for playoffs, I understand. How much longer does this have to sit, J?” I asked, watching him reach for his phone on the stained counter.
“Thirty more minutes.” I nodded gestured for him to move and sit on the edge of the bath tub. He did so with ease.
“You want this?” I presented the donut I took a bite of to him, and Jamie quickly reached for it. He mumbled a sheepish, ‘thanks,” in return.
“Trevor,” I immediately turned to him. “I’ll help you with your hair.”
It was Trevor’s turn to be concerned, shaking his head and laughing anxiously.
“No.. no.. J’s got it.” He took a step back to escape the bathroom.
“No, I insist. I’d rather it not get anywhere else on Jamie anyway. His arm hair doesn’t need to be orange too. Come on.” I grabbed his arm, pulling him a bit forcefully back into the bathroom.
“I think it’ll look so good on you, Trev.” I taunted as I pushed him down into the chair. “J, can you go get me a drink from the fridge?” Jamie looked up from his phone and nodded, slipping out of the bathroom.
“Fuck you Trevor,” I hissed quietly, “you know how embarrassed he would have been? He probably would’ve chopped all his hair off.” Trevor’s eyes quickly found the floor. I wondered if he even thought this idea through entirely.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so rough on him sometimes. He’s not you, Trev.” My tone softened -though the annoyance remained- as I glanced down at all of the items on the counter. I reached for the bleach and prepped it before grabbing a spare pair of gloves, slipping them on.
“This one was pretty bad, huh?” Trevor muttered, right before Jamie returned with the water. I flashed him a smile as he set it on top of the toilet.
“Getzlaf‘s gonna love this look on you guys.” I was quick to change the subject, beginning to lather the bleach in Trevor’s hair. He may not have even needed it, but I decided to go with it for safe measure. I peeked over at Jamie, who was watching with curious eyes. I realized he already had another donut in hand. I also realized, that the poor kid’s eyebrows were still as dark as can be.
“He’ll support us.” Trevor reasoned.
“I’m sure he will.” Sarcasm laced my tone.
“I think we’ll look pretty cool.” Jamie’s excitement made me feel bad for knowing what I did about Trevor’s plans. And it made me feel bad for disagreeing in my head.
“The coolest, J.” I responded, trying to sound genuine.
It took me around ten minutes to get Trevor’s hair covered well. At that point, it was a waiting game for Jamie. Another fifteen minutes went by where I sat by my boyfriend on the lip of the bath tub, leaning on him as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally moving an orange lock from his eyes that kept falling astray. His mother didn’t like it when his hair got too long, I could only imagine what she’d say when she saw it was a whole new color.
When Jamie’s hair timer had gone off, I made Trevor go and grab me a cup. I helped Jamie sit on the floor and lean his head back into the bath tub, sighing to myself as I turned the bath tub on and found a comfortable temperature for the water.
When Trevor returned with the cup, I took it from him and filled it, resting my hand over Jamie’s eyes as I poured the first round of water through his hair, pushing my fingers through after. This was gonna take a while.
“I’ve seen you blonde.. but this is something else..” I mumbled. I did find momentary joy in the way Jamie’s eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling of having someone wash his hair. His orange hair.
“If this comes out bad, I’m taking you both to the local salon.” I added, getting to a point where the orange didn’t completely stain the water as it went down the drain. I turned off the tub faucet and asked Trevor to get me a towel, which he came back with faster than the cup.
“It’s not Carla,” Trevor shook his head. I glared at him.
“I don’t really care who it is. You’ll go unless you want to look like an off brand red head.” Jamie’s eyes opened, worriedly looking between me and his best friend.
I grabbed the towel from Trevor and turned back to my boyfriend, wrapping the towel around his hair and squeezing it a few times before I helped him sit up, and draped the towel over his shoulders.
“Move.” Trevor didn’t look very pleased that I was kicking him out of his seat, but he did nonetheless. Jamie slipped back into the foldable chair, and I bent over to search the cabinet beneath the sink for my spare hair dryer. When I spotted it, I was quick to pull it out.
I eyed the cord for a moment. “I don’t wrap my hairdryer cords like this.” I glanced between both boys, curious as to who had used my dryer while I was away.
“Sometimes my hair doesn’t dry fast enough before I go out.” Jamie’s gentle confession made my gaze soften.
I plugged the cord into the outlet and opened the medicine cabinet to grab one of the combs inside.
“Wait that’s mine!” I glared over at Trevor before putting the comb back and grabbing the other. Part of me wanted to snap his in half. Torturing Jamie and he still thought he could sit there and make requests.
I turned the hair dryer on, pointing it down at my lover as I slowly ran his comb through his hair. He looked pleased with all the attention. I didn’t mind it.. I just wished I could have given it to him under other circumstances that didn’t involve orange hair.
As his hair dried, the orange took on a much lighter look. Still hideous, but it looked like it would match the jerseys. Jamie took a few pictures of it.
When I had his hair mostly dry, I turned the dryer off and set it on the counter with the comb. I ran my fingers through his hair a few times, ruffling and fixing the part, before I leaned forward to press a kiss to his head.
“Do you like it now?” Jamie spoke softly, his eyes searched my expression in the mirror.
“It’ll grow on my eventually.” I tapped his shoulder. “You wanna help me finish Trev?”
“Oh! Yeah!”
“Trevor sit on the floor and lean your head over the bath.”
I repeated the process of washing hair with Trevor, this time with the help of Jamie, who really just handed me shampoo when I needed it.
When I had his hair washed and towel dried, I had him and Jamie switch places again, and I began to dry Trevor’s hair- with his own comb. After I was sure every strand was no longer damp, I put my dryer away and set Trevor’s comb aside.
“I think when we’re done, you guys should send some photos to your mothers.” I advised, smiling to myself at the thought of either woman’s reaction.
Jamie’s head shot up from his phone. Had he not considered his mother as a factor before agreeing to this?
“She’s gonna flip…”
He hadn’t.
“Oh my god, Jamie-“ I hid my face in my hands to mask my frustration.
“Can you call her with me?” His request was met with a reluctant no from myself.
“You made your bed, lover. And this one you have to lay in alone.” I chuckled. “Good luck.”
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#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#jamie drysdale blurb#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale#trevor zegras blurb#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras
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Fade Into You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!
a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Fade Into You - Mazzy Star
warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?
You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.
You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.
“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”
“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.
“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.
She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.
But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.
She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.
You hiss.
“Sorry,”
“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.
“I’m not,” she agrees.
You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.
“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.
“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.
The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.
“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”
Clarisse.
—-
The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.
The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.
She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.
It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.
Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.
—-
You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.
You slam into something.
It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.
“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.
You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.
She’s frozen just like you.
“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.
Did Clarisse just stutter?
—-
Clarisse stares at you.
You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.
The cycle repeats.
—-
This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.
While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.
Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.
You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.
“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.
“No,” you laugh.
“That’s against the rules.”
You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.
Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.
“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.
“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.
“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.
You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”
Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.
“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.
Clarisse laughs.
You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.
“You still have to spar, you know.”
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”
You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.
You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-
The sword is ripped out of your hands.
“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”
The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.
How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?
“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”
Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.
As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.
You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.
Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.
“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.
“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.
She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.
“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”
Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.
Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.
Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.
She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.
“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.
“I’m not the best-”
She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.
“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.
“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.
But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.
“Feisty,” she murmurs.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.
“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”
You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.
It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.
Your arm is growing heavy.
But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.
Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.
She looks down at your sword and then you.
When she looks up again, it’s never the same.
—-
“Did you let me win that first day?”
You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.
“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.
“When we sparred?”
“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”
You gasp and hit her arm.
“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”
You’re the only person allowed to call her that.
She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”
“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”
“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”
“You were not my girlfriend then.”
“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”
You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”
She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.
“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”
“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”
“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”
“A true romantic.”
She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.
“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”
“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”
“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”
“Damn right.”
Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.
—-
y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍
clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍
ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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Home Sweet Home Au (image and Au by: @MissMio)
Since the day you left that hell scape of a toy factory known as Playtime Co. you may have brought some stowaways with you, specifically Dogday, Catnap, Kissy, Huggy, Poppy, you get the idea. The human toy experiments that Playtime Co. created from their insane and sadistic imagination, honestly what were they thinking when they did this, anyways you took them home with you to your giant mansion in the woods, that your family owned thanks to not only the money you had made at Playtime Co. while it was still in operation, but because your family owned a huge marketing company that made millions. What was it named? Safe Heaven Toys LLC, funny really that your life revolved around toys.
On the drive home cause you had to make multiple trips during the night so no one would see the monstrosities that were once human in the back of your truck, you pulled into the driveway with the last of the toys, and as soon as you step inside Dogday and Catnap are the first to greet you.
"Welcome home Angel!" The orange stuffed dog said as his tail wagged violently through the air, his tone upbeat and energetic.
"Savior. . .welcome." The purple cat said in a more sleepy tone, but nonetheless excited to see you as his tail snaked it's way around your hips.
"hey guys. . .ugh. . ." You said to them before almost collapsing from the amount of sleep and sustenance you were deprived of, you were lucky that Carnap still had his tail wrapped around your hips to make sure you wouldn't fall face first.
"You need. . .rest now. . .Savior." Catnap stated and honestly you couldn't have agreed more. And so you were brought upstairs to the master bedroom, your room and placed on your king sized bed. As soon as you hit the mattress you pass out immediately, out like a damn light. It would take at least a week before you can recover from all the bullshit that you when through or so the toys thought. Apparently you only need like three days of sleep and a large portion of food, but other than that you were good.
Everyday for the next three days the toys would check on you, making sure that you were alright and well provided for, then just like that you were back on your feet ready to start the day. You've never felt *this* peaceful before, actually you've never felt *this* peaceful a day in your life since you were always moving and on the go, but it felt nice and finally having some company thanks to the living toys you didn't feel as lonely as you originally did before they came into your life.
"Angel how are you feeling now?" Dogday asks you know he's just doing it out of concern for you, he was always a sweet one, possessive? Maybe, but definitely sweet.
"I'm alright Dogday, I've just been doing one to many things that I crashed." You replied back to him, easing his worries, still there's a small glint in his eyes that say otherwise. "I'm being honest Dogday I'm fine." You told him as you began to scratch behind his ears making his foot do the weird moving thing. It was adorable to see and you couldn't help but scratch harder and harder which caused his tail to start thumping against the floor, causing a giggle to come out of your lips. Hearing your soft voice and fits of laughter caused a deep crimson blush to spread across Dogday's face. If he was given the chance he could listen to you all day, cause something about your voice just makes his heart flutter. Unfortunately the moment was short lived cause Catnap having a long ass tail like he does managed to snatch you up and drag you away from the loving pup that was Dogday.
"CATNAP!!! 💢" Yup Dogday was pissed as soon as you were stolen away from him. He tried searching all of the mansion but the mansion was to big and had one too many rooms that Catnap could use to hide, so the poor angry orange puppy gave up, but he swore if he saw that cat again he was going to teach him a lesson about stealing *HIS* angel away from him. Meanwhile Catnap and taken you to the more quiet areas of the house, mainly the ones you didn't have any use for and was just kinda sitting there gathering dust, except for a room that Catnap made to be his nesting spot. The room had a bunch of mattresses, blankets, pillows, and other soft plush-like materials he could find, half of them belonging to you, and the other half you don't know where in gods name he got it from. Probably stole it or something.
"hi Catnap." You said to the large purple cat as he looked at you while holding you within his arms. A faint purr came from his throat as his ears flicked, indicating that he acknowledges you.
"Savior. . ." He says. Ever since you saved him from, what would have been an unfortunate accident if you didn't intervene, was his near death encounter with 1006, and while he knows that he'll always be somewhat loyal to the prototype, he'll mostly be loyal to you just like, if more, the prototype.
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Hi Jade!! 💛💛 Omg obsessed with soulmate prince Steve au 🥰. Every au you write is perfection Can I request a scenario in which prince Steve actually witnesses someone say something to her about how she’s not good enough for the prince and how he’d react to that/ reassure her?
prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.2k
Your palatial bedroom is a gem to the eye. You've a huge window from which gauzy orange light seeps, the golden hour of your twentieth day coming to an end. Soon, night will be upon you, and with the night comes Prince Steven. Or, as he prefers, Steve.
He spends the days battling his overbearing mother and her team of 'professional shitheads' as the wedding fast approaches, advocating for you where you can't. You may be his soul mate, but your lack of royal blood means you've no choice in any of their plans. You hadn't been allowed to choose your dress, your vows, or even your jewellery.
Well, originally. "It's your wedding," Steve had said, giving your hand a reassuring hold, "not just mine, and definitely not theirs. You'll be allowed to wear, and say, and do whatever you want. I'm lucky you agreed to marry me at all."
You don't regret agreeing to marry him, but it wasn't what you pictured. He didn't propose, and you aren't in love. Your soul marks assure you that one day you will be. The volume of their light and how restless they become around the other evidences a mutual attraction if nothing else, and the rosy hue they take when you touch spares nothing.
A mutual crush doesn't normally mean you'd marry someone, though. But it isn't exactly unheard of in your culture either. Soul mates are soul mates —it's on the tin.
Why wait to get married when you know you'll fall in love for life?
Maybe because that love is extremely daunting, a little voice says at the back of your head. Because Steve is still a stranger.
An acquaintance might be more accurate. If he continues to be so dramatically nice you might skip friendship altogether, your stomach a heat at the memory of his hand on your chin and the subtle warmth of his gaze as he laid your doubts to rest. You worried to him that you couldn't be a Princess, and while he hadn't shared the sentiment, others do.
You leave the haven of your room in hopes of a glass of juice and a tonic for your headache (all you've done for days is grind your teeth), and become turned around looking for the kitchens
"She is so boringly normal. I thought the Prince would have a special soul mate, is that stupid? I thought she'd be gorgeous, or smart, or talented at something, like piano." The servant hits her racket against the rug with a laugh. "She's just one of us. Lucky bitch."
Which isn't the worst of it. Not truly offensive. You're nothing special, and if you didn't know it already, finding your soulmate cemented it.
This bit hurts, though. "She's surprisingly ugly, I thought," says the other servant. "Imagine when they project their engagement photos in the central city. That is not a face you want to see in sixteen k."
Your head bumps into the alcove wall with surprise as a throat clears. The servants look up in tandem, to your horror, seeing you standing in the shade like a creeper, but they see straight past you. You follow their gaze.
"That's not fair or appropriate, is it?" Steve asks, in his strange princely tone. "The future princess is just as beautiful as you ladies, but she has a much nicer attitude, yeah?"
Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and walks you away. You feel like you're in trouble, being marched by the class warden to the principal's office.
He stops you in the cool stone walkway that leads from the garden. You can smell the kitchen you'd been looking for, the buttery smell of capers and brewing edelweiss tea on the breeze. The night dawns, sconces with teal and lime light painting his skin baby blue.
"Sorry I didn't sanction them. I think that the anxiety that I'm gonna tell on them does more than the actual–" Steve stops short. "Hey, are you crying?"
You're not crying, but you may be a little sniffly. You turn your head away from him and he pulls it right back, his lips parted in shock.
"You don't believe them," he says incredulously.
The stress in your life these last few weeks has been akin to a tightrope walker, and the insults (the embarrassment, knowing he heard) are a strong wobble.
"Sorry," you say, your lips barely parted. You try to look away from him but his hand is steadfast on your cheek.
It's so odd to be treated with tenderness by someone you don't really know. His soul mark burns a muted pinky-red at the pulse of his wrist. It's genuine affection, even if you feel like you don't deserve it.
"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I should go back and have them do domestic duties for the week."
"No, I'm being stupid. They don't have to think I'm pretty–"
"Well, they should, but that's not really what happened… Why are you down here? I was looking for you."
"You were?" you ask.
"I usually am. I tried to get out of fencing but they wouldn't let me leave," he explains, his hand moving up your face in little grabs, almost as though he's checking you over for injury. Eyes held, Steve smiles at you encouragingly. "Why were you down here?"
"To get something to drink," you say.
"And you didn't want to ask one of the ten people waiting desperately for you to need something?" he asks with a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. The phantom of it remains, heat in the shape of his fingers pressed into your cheek.
"It feels weird."
"You can call for me instead and I could get you a drink. Just until you know where the kitchen is. Or I can make you a map."
"A map," you say, biting back a smile.
"Is that funny?"
"No…"
Steve curls a hand behind your shoulder. "We're not gonna get along," he says, his tone suggesting wildly otherwise. "I can tell. Let's get you that drink, okay?"
"Okay. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional on you."
"'In good times and bad,'" he says. Your heart doesn't leap, it springs from your chest. He's a prince, and he's beautiful, and now he's throwing wedding vows at you like it's nothing?
You smile at your shoes all the way to the kitchens, where Steve ushers you in front of him to go first, and says in your ear, "For the record, I'm personally super excited to see you on the holo screens, but I don't think it's gonna compare to the real thing." He directs you by the waist gently, a twin of the way he'd held you in your engagement photos. Deft hand nestled against the fat of your hip, blue silk of your ceremonial kissing your thighs. You'd felt really pretty, if only because he touched you without hesitation. "You are the farthest thing from ugly I've ever seen."
#prince!steve au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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Onceler x Reader Fluff (makeup time!!)
Gender Neutral Reader :D
for @arson-n-barf !
You’re sitting in your room, trying to get ready to go out into Thneedville for some groceries and maybe casual walking around. Sitting on the floor in front of a mirror the Onceler keeps around, your makeup is positioned on your lap or on the floor around you. You start by putting concealer under your eyes, and then-
There’s humming in the distance…
“Hey Y/N!”
“Hey Oncie.”
“Whatcha got there?”
“I’m just putting on my makeup, getting ready to go out today.”
“Oooo can I try, Y/N?”
You’re a bit taken aback by this, but eager to see the Onceler all fancied up. Maybe you can even force him to go to work in a super cute look… with sparkly green eyeshadow? The possibilities are endless…. This is gonna be so silly…
“Yeah, sure. Here. You need help right?”
You reach for a box of makeup you’re not using so you can still get your own done, and shove it towards him. It should have everything he needs.
“Nahhhh how hard could it possibly-”
He sees the box full of makeup and his eyes widen.
“Everything okay, Oncie?”
“I knew there was mascara and uhh… bloosh? But what is all this? I feel like I underestimated the amount of makeup people use…”
“Bloosh??”
He’s even more stupid than I first thought.
You dig through the box and pick up some extra concealer and foundation you got in a free-bie once that looks like it could match his tone.
“Alright, here. This is concealer, and this is foundation. I think we’ll just use a little concealer for you since your skin is pretty clear already.”
“It… isn’t it the same thing?”
“Nope.”
The Onceler blushes a little, feeling a bit dumb for not understanding something he thought would be so simple. You apply some concealer to his under eyes and blend it out. You then use a brush to powder his face and put the “bloosh” on his cheeks and nose.
“What color eyeshadow do you want? Any? There’s green like your suit… or pink like a thneed? Orange like the Lorax?
“I would never wanna match that furry meatloaf… Let’s do green.”
You apply a little bit of sparkly green eyeshadow to his lids and back up some to look at it.
“Cute! Okay, you already wear mascara don’t you?”
“No?”
“Your eyelashes are naturally that curled and dark? That’s so unfair…”
You hold the mascara wand up to his eyelashes, and he scoots away dramatically.
“Woah woah woah woah don’t stick that in my eyes! Are you crazy???”
“It’s not going in your eyes! I do this for myself every morning, calm down you scaredy pants!!”
The Onceler winces a little, but lets you put the mascara on him.
“There, that wasn’t so bad. Do you wanna do the eyeliner yourself then?”
“Eyeliner? You’re gonna put lines in my eyes???”
“NO oh my- alright here. I’ll do it, but you can’t move okay? No moving at all, got that?”
The Onceler does his best to sit still as you put very minimal eyeliner on him.
“Thank goodness that’s over with. Now, do you want pink lipstick, or something crazier? I can also do lip gloss.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Lip gloss is shiny, and, well, a gloss. Lip stick is… a stick? I can layer them if you want.”
“Yes, that would be fine. I think pink is fine.”
You put a peachy pink lipstick on him and some shiny clear gloss with little glitters over top.
“That’s so cute! Oncie, you look adorable!”
You reach over to get some highlighter to put on his inner corners and nose, when suddenly someone busts in.
“Hey beanpole, you-”
It’s the Lorax! His cute fuzzy butt just broke in and is now looking upon a super fabulous Onceler.
“Y/N. What is this.”
“Oh the Onceler just wanted to try some m-”
“No, I see that. I can see that he tried. This is horrendous, kid. Let me show you how it’s done.”
“Oh…?”
The Lorax grabs some of your makeup with his little orange fist and faces the mirror, putting it all on faster than you knew was possible. He turns around and…
Oh. Oh my.
The Lorax has on a super fierce look. He has bold pink and orange eyeshadow, fading out into a smokey eye. His eyeliner is black and thick, but somehow perfectly symmetrical. His cheeks are perfectly blushed with an orangey pink, his lips perfectly over-lined… He’s… He’s…
“BEAUTIFUL!!”
(You and the Onceler say this in unison.)
The Onceler grabs the fluffy pumpkin butt and squeezes him.
“Oh I didn’t think you could get any cuter! Oh this is so unexpected but so so perfect.”
“Yeah and I didn’t think you could get any more annoying. Put me down, I demand you!”
You stand back and giggle at these two now very sparkly and beautiful guys.
alright that’s it! hope that’s all you wanted it to be 😻😻
#onceler#the lorax#the onceler#fanfic#fanfiction#greedler#greedler x reader#onceler x reader#the greedler#the onceler x reader#the lorax 2012#lorax fandom#lorax 2012
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heartbeat;
pairing- fwb!sirius black x reader
warning- hurt/comfort, 18+ content, substances, cheating. (let me know if i should add more)
a/n- also this has so much sex for no reason at all-
little train.
masterlist of 'the seven lives' series
' you thinking that the songs coming on to tempt me
i need to be alone like the way you left me '
heartbeat;
the waves scandalised on his feet, the sand running through the gaps between his toes. the sun hung low, a strange crimson glow bathing through his features. salty air blew into his hair, scents of burnt leaves tantalizing his nostrils as late july crept around. the cigarette burnt through his puffs, the burnt ash flying with the air, leaving the roll with an orange glow. the dusk of the twilight enamoured him. he took another puff from his cigarette, letting the burnt feeling settle on his tastebuds.
‘hey,’ your touch was all too familiar on his skin. from feeling his skin to touching his skin, he’d grown to like your touch. it didn’t shudder his thoughts or nerves. it was familiar, a burn that he liked.
‘hi,’ he said, as you pulled the from cigarette between his lips. wrapping your lips around it, you pulled in the tobacco, letting it intoxicate your lungs. he watched the tip glow red, the smoke leaving your lips as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder.
‘never took you for a beach kinda guy,’
‘no?’
‘nah. with all those abs and all. more of a mountain and trekking guy i guess,’
‘well i have surprised you then.’ he said pulling your body closer. his finger slid between the strap of your bra through the t-shirt. he drew faint circles on your shoulder, enjoying the goosebumps that arose on your skin, and how your shook under his touch.
‘or maybe you have your fantasy with a beach fucking gateway. you do, don’t you?’ he chuckled, a deep rumble from his throat. hiding his face in the crook of your neck, he blew a breath of warm air on your skin, letting the wind cool it.
‘you really know me don’t you,’ he whispered. he heard your heart beat, growing its pace.
‘honestly, i don’t know what you’re waiting for,’ you replied, your tone low, laced with a veiled hunger. your hand crept around his neck, pulling him closer by the black t-shirt he was wearing. smiling against his mouth, you crept your hand into his locks.
‘in public?’ he smirked. you laughed, hitting his chest with a light blow.
‘no,’
but when his lips met yours in a fanatical frenzy, you found your mind reeling, pressed against the cold wall of his hotel room. it was numbing, as his lips bit all over your skin, marking you all over, his touch spreading a blossom of lust within you. you arched your hips, as he carried you to the bed, throwing you on the mattress.
pushing back a moan into your throat, you gulped as he tore your shirt off, ripped off your pants. your hands slid down to the zipper of his fly, but he slapped your hand away, his fingers circling your clit.
‘did i say you could?’ he said against your mouth. you could see the clouds of lust hidden in his gray irises. he increased the force of friction upon your clit, circling the sensitive mound more aggressively. you breathed heavy.
‘n-no’ his fingers met the warmth of your cunt, his rings cold against the heat of your throbbing hole.
‘so wet, just for me huh?’ he teased, sinking his teeth in the nape of your neck.
‘it’s never dry when you’re around, black,’ your chuckle was caught halfway with a whine as he slid his fingers into you. he curled his fingers into you, pressing onto your sensitive spot. you arched your hips, trying to get more friction.
‘that’s right sweetheart, ride my fucking fingers. cum on them. let me have a taste,’ he said, watching you unravel on his fingers. he liked the control over you, how you turned into putty just into his hands. he liked you to see you melt, to watch you become breathless, surrender to him. he liked how he knew your body like it was his. as if he could sculpt you out pore by pore with his eyes closed.
‘fuck,’ you whined as he latched his tongue onto your clit, sucking on it, letting you closer to the release. you were feral, breaking through the latches of your sanity as his tongue lapped on you, your thighs shaking around his head, pulling him closer. he could feel the clench of your walls around his fingers, the shaking of your thighs as you pulled him closer, letting him consume you.
he smiled against your cunt, devouring every bit of your sanity as you unravelled on his tongue, letting your orgasm paint his tongue and fingers. when he got up from between his legs, he pushed his fingers into your mouth, letting your taste fuse with your tastebuds.
‘you taste so good, you know that?’ he said, adjusting his torso between your thighs. you smiled, wrapping your hands around his neck as he pushed into you.
‘i know,’ you said, your tongue slipping into his mouth, as he gasped into your mouth. your walls stretched around his neck.
‘you better fuck me like you mean it, black,’ you demanded, as he groaned, pulling his cock out and thrusting into you again.
‘trust me, i always fuck you like i mean it, sweetheart,’ the way the nickname rolled off his tongue had you clenching your walls around his girth. he rammed into you, his hand meeting your throat, feeling the beat of your cunt and heart under his control.
‘sucha dirty girl,’ he moaned, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. you arched your hips, as he pushed the back of your head into the mattress. through the constriction, you felt the numb whiteness of pleasure consume you, your over sensitive cunt throbbing as you felt his pubic hair rub rough against your skin.
‘just for you, black,’ he smiled, running his fingers through his raven strands.
‘yeah? just for me?’ you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body. his hand left your throat, pinning your hands over your head. he enjoyed the look of your breasts bouncing before latching his mouth on your nipple.
‘fuck-black, just like that,’ you groaned, as he pushed a rather rough thrust into you. the hoarseness in his voice was laced with a low growl paired with a rhythmic thrust brought you over the edge, as your orgasm unravelled and you painted his torso with your juices. he craned his neck at the sight, releasing himself into you, painting your insides with his cum. panting, he fell onto your body, his cock still buried deep inside you.
‘sweetheart, you get me so soaked,’ you tease, enjoying the soft bliss of his warmth.
‘always my pleasure, sweetheart.’
*-
‘always my pleasure, sweetheart.’ the bartender said, pushing the glass of his drink towards him. he wrapped his lips around the glass, drowning the bittersweet drink down his throat. in the crevices of the dim light of the bar, he could see you, pushing your hips against the crotch of your new boyfriend. it was disgusting, how his hands roamed all over your body, his lips latched onto your neck.
he should’ve seen this coming. he should’ve believed james when he told him about the bastard. he should’ve seen past the barriers of fucking, the barriers of sex in hidden hotels, seen past the potential of rendezvous affairs in parking lots. he should’ve seen it earlier.
but sirius black was a stubborn man. he would get anything he wanted. so, he found himself at the bar, when your glass was empty with a loser of a boyfriend. he found himself on the edge of breaking his jaw when his hands crept on your thigh, tantalizing over your core. he could see it on your face, even if you were hidden in shadows. he could read it in your expressions, the little breathes that left your lips, the way you gulped, the curt curl of lips on your face.
he tapped his finger on his thigh, bouncing his leg. the bartender was fluttering his eyelashes at him, his sandy dusty hair falling in front of his eyes. he could see the honey glazed irises through the strands, as he licked his lips. sirius wasn’t foreign to such attention from women and men alike. it came with him being dashingly attractive and more than just a hollow shell to look at. his charisma could break through a brick-wall, if he wanted to.
but what he was foreign to was the fact he had somebody else on his mind. he didn’t have a subtle history of one-night stands or flings. it was raunchy, and he had left the culture for good, having unintentionally broken many hearts. but sirius black’s sex drive wasn’t to be extinguished so fast.
a stupid drunken night he’d hooked up with his best friend, you. he’d fallen into a void he thought he could escape. but he’d already fallen down the rabbit hole of madness, a stupor of lust, greed, and highness you brought down from heaven. it was a promiscuous affair, and neither of you backed up, and it became more than just a stupid hook up ‘accident’. it became an arrangement of sorts, a clandestine affair hidden within the darkness of parking lots or scabby motels. it was inescapable, and soon he found himself reminiscing the touch, the feel of your skin.
but even through the feelings he’d tried to ignore, he felt himself drowning into the need of your touch. in this drunk stare, he took the bartender and the girl who’d been practically eye-fucking him, to his flat it was angry and frustrated; he needed those feelings out his system. so, he found himself between a guy and girl, in a haze of lust. it was lore to be kept hidden when the girl scratched her nails deep into sirius’ back, her red lipstick marked all over his torso. the bartender took sirius from behind, stretching him out, as sirius rutted the girl’s guts into his mattress. his hand wrapped around sirius’ neck, placing his mouth on his, retching him with bruised lips.
he felt his orgasm tug low at his stomach, as the girl’s walls clenched around his cock. sirius dug his fingers into her waist, drowning in the high of alcohol and lust that wrecked his system. he missed your touch, your feel, your nasty words that helped him crawl down the euphoria of pleasure. in the distant cacophony of the low moans and skin-slapping, he found himself emptying into the condom.
‘fuck,’ he whispered as he felt the warmth flood behind his back. he felt the liquid slide down his thighs, lips latched onto the skin of his neck. it brought him a strange sense of discomfort. it wasn’t the first time he’d had a threesome, but somehow, he found himself hating it.
‘i need to go clean myself,’ he whispered. they nodded. sirius stood there, lingering, his waist uncharacteristically swaying.
‘you guys can clean yourself in my bathroom - and stay here for the night if you’d like. i-um i’ll sleep outside,’
he saw the girl giggle and wrap her arms around the bartender before wrapping her lips around his waist before he walked out into the hallway. he’d have to change the sheets the next day, he decided. even burn that were about to be stained with the deeds of strangers. it felt like a backfire of his plan but he was too tired to fight it.
*-
you knew better than to respond to sirius’ text. you’d seen him bartender and a blonde girl home. it was a ploy, to make you jealous. you could read it in his face. but you were so tired of being the chase, of being the prey. you needed him to hunt you down, make you his. perhaps all he needed was a little push. so, you’d decided to the guy at work a chance. he was cute-physically at least. as the evening went on you realized he was nothing but a hollow shell, just a pretty thing to look at.
internally you cursed marlene who’d given you this ‘awesome idea’ to woo sirius and make him jealous. sirius black was a stubborn man and he’d make anything his if he set his eyes on it. all he needed was a little push over the edge to pursue his interests. a little push for him to set off the ticking bomb that was his anger issues. he’d bash out and admit his feelings any day. but it was the push he needed. so, you’d tolerated the guy throughout the evening hoping the sex wouldn’t be half as bad.
how wrong you were. his touches were rushed. but it wasn’t a sensual rush that led you into a headspace of arousal. it was a rush to see you naked. there was no foreplay what so ever, neither was there an effort to make you feel good. all he wanted to do was explore his pleasure, let down his high of euphoria. you didn’t even feel yourself close to the edge when he pulled out, chasing your lips with a bruising kiss.
you groaned, as he fell near you, panting slowly. his hand wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. his beard tickled the skin, and you found yourself hating it. it wasn’t like sirius’ soft stubble. it was scratchy, raising the sensors of your comfortability.
it was rabbit hole of fucking madness. you’d found yourself falling deep into the grave of lust and greed when sirius had hooked up with you on a drunk night when the summer air was humid. you found yourself filling the void of his heart without realizing it. you found yourself gaining a power, a control over him nobody else had. you found yourself falling with him, deep into a dorm of madhouse. it was inescapable, and somewhere along the clandestine rendezvous in hotels and parking lots, you allowed yourself to not escape.
you had messed with sirius, and you knew it was a bad news. and now he was messing with you. so, you turned around your screen of your phone on the nightstand.
‘had a threesome after so long.’
it was vulgar, short, yet enough to set you off the edge. even if you knew it, the confirmation made it worse.
‘why don’t i fuck you good enough?’
‘well, you’re fucking some loser from work.’
‘i’m fucking him, that’s not my boyfriend.’
‘big talk sweetheart, you went on a date with him. he’s your co-worker. as good as a boyfriend.’
‘he’s as hollow as your mother’s fried brain.’
‘rude.’
‘you agree with it.’
‘i do.’
you let out a short breath.
‘so…’
‘meet me in five.’
‘right.’
*-
‘right,’ he said, munching on a fry. you chuckled, wiping a stripe of mayonnaise from the side of his lips.
‘that bad of a fuck huh?’ he teased, even though you could hear the bitter tone laced in his voice. sipping on your milkshake, you shrugged.
‘sooo bad. he didn’t even last like…10 minutes.’
‘i mean he must have never had sucha good pussy before,’ he whispered, leaning closer to you. it was a vile thing to say in public, but you were guarded by the windows of his car. you chuckled, throwing him a nervous blow of your tongue.
‘i’m not wrong,’ he winked.
‘i mean i must believe you. you’ve your experiences.’ you said, a stern tone in your voice. throwing the plastic cup into the polythene, you climbed over the seat, straddling his hips.
‘fuck,’ he groaned, arching his hips. when you unbuttoned your skimpy blouse, shoving your breasts into his face, he latched his mouth onto your nipple. you moaned, craning your neck, and hiding your fingers into his silky strands. this wasn’t a part of your plan…but how could you resist his mouth upon your body, his teeth marking spots on your skin as he fervently kissed you into a stupor till your mind went numb.
still, this felt different, when his finger explored your cunt through your underwear, rubbing soft on your clit. there was something in his eyes, a fire of agony, a fire of desire. something more than just lust. he unzipped his pants, letting out his cock.
‘fuck me,’ you said, your mouth against his. he raised an eyebrow.
‘no foreplay?’
‘oh, fuck you, black, it’s so wet already,’ you groaned, rubbing your cunt against his skin of his girth. a devious smirk tasted upon his kiss bitten lips.
‘it’s so wet for me, isn’t it?’ he said, positioning the tip of his cock at your core, teasing your slit.
‘yes, yes,’ you groaned. when he entered you, it was a delicious stretch that burned through you. he grabbed your neck, pressing so slowly on your artery.
‘look at me, look at me, sweetheart,’ your eyes glazed over his, and you found yourself lost into the crevice of madness into his gray eyes. he rammed his hips into you, your thighs shaking as he did so. he brought your face closer to his, and licked over your lips.
‘you’re such a sweetheart for me. such a slave for my cock, even though you’ve got a stupid boyfriend at home,’
*-
when sirius dropped by your office, he didn’t expect you to be… for a lack of better words, making out with your co-worker. the heat from the coffee he’d been holding seeped through his fingers. he felt his brain sizzle with emotion, an anger that soaked his nerves with a nausea an overwhelming desire to fucking bash that bastard’s head. his heart pounded threateningly against his ribcage, his feelings swallowing him whole. his eyes burned from unshed tears. he saw red, fucking red when you slipped your hand into the bastard’s pant, going down on your knees, licking your lips.
in the middle of the fucking day, in your office cabin you were ready to offer head to that excuse of a boyfriend. it was disgusting, gross- it made him feel things he’d never felt before. he felt obsessive, as a strange sense of possessiveness took over his senses. he felt his blood boil, his head reeling with viciously violent thoughts.
he stood there, watching through the curtain of his unshed tears as you felt somebody who wasn’t him. his hands shook as he walked out of the office, throwing the cup of coffee into the bin. truth be told, he wanted to ask you out, ‘gain a pair’ as james told him, since ‘it wasn’t too late’. he wanted to take you to dinner, a proper date with all the ‘gentlemanly shit,’ as marlene suggested.
‘you won’t break your heart,’ a famished lily had told him as sirius fondled with his godson’s cheeks. remus agreed with her, giving him a piece of chocolate as encouragement. and for the first time in their life, sirius thought, they were wrong. they were wrong. you wanted nothing more than sex from him. your heart wasn’t his, even if his was yours. you didn’t wear your heart on a sleeve like he did. you weren’t his to lose. but it still hurt.
it still pitied a fire into his stomach. a fire of agony, a desire. a fire which was fuelled by the diesel that was you. by the diesel that was your touch, your feel, your scent, your smile, your words, your body. by the diesel that were you. he decided perhaps, it was time to go. even if he wasn’t ready to go, perhaps he was. perhaps that’s how he’d be healed, if he ran away from you. from the ecstasy that you brought him. if he fled his thoughts that were full of you.
*-
sirius wiped his hands on the side of his apron. as someone who’d never baked a day in his life before, peter’s advice helped him to make a darn good cake. it came out as a regular sponge, but he had an eye for decorations. from a boring old sponge cake, it was transformed into a beautiful cake. now he could only hope harry would like it.
he took a picture and sent it to you. he didn’t ignore you, as he thought he would, but he certainly never met you physically. he never met you alone in shabby corners or was left alone with you. perhaps you were done with him. but you were his friend, a damn good one at that, and he couldn’t let that bond break just because you didn’t want anything to do with him. perhaps he’d never be good enough for you.
‘you going today?’ you texted.
‘no i made this cake for myself.’
‘just answer the damn question god damn.’
‘obviously i’m coming.’
‘that’s what she said.’
‘middle school boy humour.’
‘hmmm… i know.’
the bubbles appeared and re-appeared on his screen. he didn’t text you back until you got off whatever you had on your chest.
‘can you… come over?’
he found himself questioning the text, instead of replying right away. he wasn’t ready to go, not yet. but he didn’t want to leave with a broken heart either. luckily for you, he was damn good at making bad decisions.
‘yes.’
*-
‘yes,’ your moan muffled against the pillow as his cock plunged into you, his finger tips sinking into the soft flesh of your ass. the dress you were wearing for the party had been long discarded on the floor. you could hear him whimpering as your finger bruised circles on your clit. your walls clenched deliciously around his cock, your orgasm at the brink of your sanity.
sirius’ tatted hand wrapped around your neck as he brough your shaking body closer to his. he pushed his slender fingers into your mouth, as you gaggled around them, spit drooling around his fingers. the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping and guttural moans. it wasn’t a drunk accident. the both of you were very sober when you decided to ravage each other.
‘you’re sucha nasty-’ he moaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you clenched tighter around him. he was feral, as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you at this position. it made you see fucking stars, and you practically screamed as your thighs shook.
‘i’m sucha nasty girl, no? just for you black,’ you whispered, your throat raw with the guttural moans and screams that emitted out of your lips.
‘that’s right sweetheart,’ he said, his voice low and rough. you nodded, as you broke the sweat, your orgasm escaping through your body as he licked a filthy stripe from your neck to your ear.
‘fuck,’ he gasped, as he emptied into you, his seed filling into you like white ropes. he pinched your skin, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came down from the high of the pleasure you brought him.
your weak body fell slump onto the bed, and you turned around on your back. you brought him down by looping your finger through his silver chain. you slipped your tongue into his mouth, teeth sinking into his lips. he twisted his fingers into your hair, hungrily consuming the saccharine taste of your lips.
‘stay?’ you asked, breathless. sirius could feel a pool of anger pit into his stomach.
‘no,’ he on your lips. he could read the hurt in your eyes but he thought he just imagined it. obviously, he did. he had to stop falling into the spectrum of your attraction. he had stop being there, hanging in there just to be your little sex toy.
‘why not?’
‘i- i can’t,’ he said, getting up, distancing himself from you. he could feel his heart break as you covered yourself with the sheet under you.
‘you’ve a boyfriend.’ he whispered, as he put on his clothes.
‘that didn’t stop you from brainfucking me the other night-‘
‘i-i was out of my mind.’
‘i- i want you to stay.’
‘no.’
‘please.’
‘i’m sorry.’
‘why?’
because i don’t recognise you anymore. i don’t recognise the girl i once had. the only thing i recognise is the not half as bad sex. i’ve lost you.
‘i- i want you to know, i’m ready to go.’ throwing you a sad look, he left without giving you an explanation.
*-
sirius had found you sitting at the bar. you weren’t expecting him of course. you hadn’t reached out to him ever since he’d left. he hated to say it, but he missed you. incurable was the void his heart had created. he missed something that wasn’t him, someone who wasn’t his. he had boiling anger surging within him, but he wanted to see you. his heart overruled his brain, so he approached you.
‘hi,’ he said. he half expected you to bash out at him. but you didn’t. instead, you gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
‘hey,’ you said. taking a sip of your drink. i’ve missed you.
‘so alone in a bar? on a thursday night?’
‘yep,’ you said, a little too cheerfully to be honest. his hand gripped yours. your heart broke. he wasn’t ready to go, not yet.
‘are you okay?’ he asked. you crept your hand around his neck. there was something in your eyes. something he’d never seen. something too pure for it to be just lust. something of an unreadable lore.
‘can we talk in private?’ he thought about your question. the last time, talking in private turned into a fuck session where he’d realized he didn’t recognise you anymore. but he was damn good at listening to his heart when you were around.
so, he agreed which resulted him taking you home. your hands wrapped around his waist as you held onto him. the skimpy dress you’d been wearing didn’t provide much of a coverage through the cool air. the engine of his motorbike died as he stopped it at your house.
it was a quiet feeling that submerged the both of you. your minds and hearts were full of unsaid words. a seething rage of desire settled deep into your nerves. you wanted nothing but to grab him and kiss him stupid. tell him how much you loved him. but you needed to talk. talk about your feelings and his. talk about the mad rabbit hole you’d fallen into.
‘hi,’ you said, unlocking the door. he smiled.
‘so, what did you want to say?’ you twiddled with your mouth. now that you had him, you didn’t know how to say anything. you walked towards your table, and poured a glass of water for yourself, a fake liquid courage. he stood on the other side, waiting patiently for you to say something.
‘for a lack of better words, i have no idea how to say this. but i still will. because i can’t go long without getting this off my chest,’ you voice broke, and you felt your cheeks heat up as the words left your mouth.
‘in simple words, the guy i was dating was a ploy, to get you jealous. i thought a little push would get you to admit how you felt. i- i’m in love with you.’ you said, whispering the last part. you met his eyes, hoping he’d say something. but there was nothing. a pregnant silence where none said anything.
‘so you’re telling me you’ve loved me for all this while?’ he spat, exploding into a fume of anger you’d never seen seethe within him before. you nodded.
‘i- i’m in love with you, sirius.’ sirius felt his heart explode. anger spilled into every crevice of his heart and he felt his words spill before he could control himself.
'fuck this! what even are we? are we best friends? are we fucking? are we dating? something in between that?' he said, slamming his wrist on your table. his eyes wandered over your body, taking in your features through the silky skimpy dress clad on your body. he stopped at your lips.
you could feel the heat radiate off his body when walked towards you pinning your body to the cold wall behind your wall. his hand crept on your cheek, finger stroking at your mouth. he leaned closer, brushing his nose against yours, his hair tickling your face.
the fury agonized a fire within him which only you could extinguish. it spread into his gut, crawling out with an intensity of lust. he could feel you melting into his touch, like you always did.
'i wish we never fucked, and i mean that.' he said, a cold threat laced into his voice. even in the spiral of lust or greed, you'd never seen his eyes so dark. you'd never seen the pure genuine anger which crumbled him into shattered pieces. still, you felt his touch ignite your skin, melting into the tension, the diesel of desire. it was the fire you liked playing with. gripping his t-shirt collar, you pushed his mouth near yours,
'do you mean that?' he brushed his lips against yours, taking your lower lip between his teeth.
'no, not really,'
a deep rumble held onto his chest when you pushed your mouth onto his lips, converging your feelings deep into his brain. he felt his heart thump angrily against his ribcage as he held onto you. in the mist of the clouds, he found you to be his muse. he found himself seeing nobody but you. you’d gotten him hooked.
when you parted, he was breathless, a stupid smile plastered on his face. his cheeks were dusted pink. he leaned his forehead on your temple, as you chuckled. your arms wrapping around his waist.
‘tell me you love me too,’ you said, a tone of insecurity laced into your voice. he crept his hand on your cheek, stroking his finger onto the skin.
‘look at me, sweetheart.’ when you met his eyes, an unfamiliar shyness took over you.
‘i’m yours. you’re mine. i love you too. let me take you out tomorrow?’ he said against your mouth.
************************************
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#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#marauders#sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius black smut#the marauders#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#marauders era#sirius black thoughts#sirius black x oc#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanart#sirius being sirius#sirius black fluff#sirius black angst#fanfiction#james & peter & remus & sirius
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Let Me Cherish You
The boys catching you talking oh-so affectionately about them🫶
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Genre: Fluff / Romance
Character/s: Marius, Artem, Luke, Vyn
Fandom: Tears of Themis
A/N: me rn screaming into my pillow and getting all giddy writing vyns part LMFOAOAWHSHAHAAHH
(you talking is color red, marius is purple, artem is blue luke is orange n vyn is green btw)
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𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼
You were over at his family home havinf a small chat over tea with his father when he suddenly raised the question; "What did you find in Marius that made you love him?" You pondered the question for a moment, gathering it all and smiling to yourself as you thought more about him. "Well, for starters, I love his eyes. That maybe sounds a bit basic but I love the way he looks at everything as if it's the most priceless thing in the world. He uses everything he sees as an inspiration either as a painter or a businessman. Even if he had this.. 'annoying' laid-back attitude, I admire him for still being able to make me smile and comfort me in dark times." You were unaware of the smile blooming on your face as you kept going. "In all honesty, there's kind of a lot of things I like about him. Maybe some, I haven't found yet or some that are just so amazing that I can't put it to words." Austin von Hagen laughs softly and later then turns his gaze into the doorway where his son stood, frozen and staring fondly at his lover.
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𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓶
(god he deserves all the wholesome energy in the world so here😭)
You and Artem were stationed in an orphanage for a task in the law firm. The job you were given was connected to a child that resides within the orphanage which led you to your situation right now. You were sat on the floor with a number of children surrounding you as they 'interrogate' you. "Miss, is he your husband?" A little girl speaks up, her big, innocent eyes gazing into yours as if she sees your soul itself. "Uhm, no—" You were taken aback by the child's sudden inquiry that you stuttered slightly. "Mr. Wing is my co-worker. He's not my lover." You smiled sweetly at the child as you explained to her. "But how come you act like a married couple?" What..?—"Yeah! My mommy and daddy act exactly the same!" two kids now spoke and your panic increases. "Missy, if you're not married, then surely you like him, right?" A little boy asks and you sigh internally at the sudden turn of events. "Look! Miss attorney is turning red!" Many of the kids cheered and you sighed once more, not knowing how to deal with them. The children begged you to answer their questions and you were left with no choice. "..Yes, I kinda like him." You responded in a soft and quiet tone, making sure he doesn't hear. "But why do you like him?" a child asks, gaining the other kids attention. "Why do I like him..?" you ponder for a moment then spoke. "Well, he's really kind. Whenever I'm working, he's always looking out for me. And also, I look up to him! He's such a great person overall that I want to be like him. And.." "Look! She's smiling! " A little girl interrupts and the room full of children erupt with cheerful voices. "That's what my dad always does whenever mom comes home from work." The hoard of children discuss amongst themselves once more and you felt helpless until the sweet sound of a voice all too familiar was heard amongst the voices of the children. "Hey now, let miss have some rest. She's been very busy and I want you all to take good care of her, not tire her, okay?" "Okay!" the children agree in unison. Artem smiles to himself as he thinks of the words you described him as. He makes sure to stop by at the flower shop before going to work tomorrow.
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𝓛𝓾𝓴𝓮
A karaoke booth packed with 'adults' screaming singing their hearts out. That was the kind of situation you were currently in with Luke and your old classmates. Luke held the microphone in one hand while his eyes were trained on the tv displaying the lyrics. Your gaze stayed unmoving on him until somebody spoke up from beside you. "So, you still like him?" You whip your head to the direction of the voice to see one of your old best friend along side Luke back then snickering. You stayed silent, not knowing how to answer. More of your friends heard the topic of discussion and crowded around you for an answer. "What'dya like about him?" "If I had to guess it's probably his academic ability." "No! Not only that! Look at his build." "I can't believe you guys only look on the outside. It's his personality!" They all argued about which it was you liked about him but the answer was clear in your heart. "I don't like him just because he has a well built body or he's very intelligent but, I love him because he's always sincere. Ever since we were children, he was always honest with me. He never hesitated to do anything just to cheer me up and I love him for that. Though, I think he's gotten used to basically throwing his own well-being away just to save me and I wanna keep his mind at ease that it's not only him that has to protect the other. I'll protect him too, even if I'm not really capable." The girls that swarmed around you all swooned and squealed in excitement, saying how your love story would be just like a kid's fantasy novel about princesses. A blush bloomed on your face, mimicking the color of red flowers while trying to avoidtheir gazes but what you were unaware of was that Luke was looking straight at you the whole time, falling in love all over again.
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𝓥𝔂𝓷
You were only supposed to bring him lunch when you're suddenly swarmed by his students, all asking you questions as per your sudden appearance within the school. All the female students all talk amongst themselves while the others interrogate you and suddenly, a voice pierces through the noisy atmosphere. "Wait! You're all asking the useless questions! Miss, are you and Professor Richter dating?" The room goes quiet as all the students' attention turns to you. They all move closer to you demanding an answer and you sigh, defeated. "No, we're just..." as you thought of an answer, you suddenly cut yourself off , thinking if you were friends, acquaintances, work partners or...lovers. "... friends?" you finish your answer in an unsure manner. The students scoff and others laugh. "Come on miss, we're psychology students. There's no way in this green earth that Professor Richter looks at you like that and you're only friends!" students all agree and nod as they talk loudly once more. "Well, let's just say you're just crushing on him, what do you like about Professor Richter?" A rosy tint slowly emerges to your cheeks as seconds pass while you thought deeply about it. "Well— uhm.." you sigh and just decided to speak your thoughts. "He's very kind and caring. The moment I saw him, I already felt comfortable around him, with that soft expression he has. He's good both inside and outside. And uhm, please don't tell him but, I was already captivated by him on our first meeting. I mean— if you'd all just seen how cute and...attractive..? he was! I swear, I could've melted right then and ther—" the sudden sound of a low chuckle in the tone and voice you're all too familiar with interrupts your words as you look up and see all the students' eyes wide while some cover their mouths and you slump knowing that he's right behind you. "My rose, can we speak privately for a moment?" his voice was calming and smothered with loving affection and you take a quick look at the students again all hurrying out the room to give you privacy all the while snickering amongst themselves. "I've told them to get home as soon as classes are dismissed but they still don't listen." he takes a few steps to stand in front of you and he puts his finger underneath your chin to gently tilt it upwards so that he can lay his eyes upon your face. "But I guess I have them to thank for letting me overhear how much you adore me." he takes your hand in his and gives a chaste kiss on the back of it. "How about a dinner date then, my love?"
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A/N:this shit messy fr💀
#tears of themis luke#tears of themis marius#tears of themis#vyn richter#vyn richter x reader#vyn x reader#marius von hagen#marius x mc#marius x reader#artem wing#artem x mc#artem x you#tears of themis vyn#vyn ritcher x reader#tot vyn#luke pearce x mc#luke pearce x reader#luke pearce#tot artem#tot marius
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Peel me an orange trend with
Raphael/ his favorite client 👀
Would you peel the devil an orange? 🍊👀 I wouldn't lol
Raphael x GN!Reader: Oranges
You woke up with a jolt and a raspy breath. Snugly covered in silken sheets, you made an effort to move your sore limbs. The bed carried the easily recognizable scent of palmarosa and pepper, but there was something else too. Something citrusy, maybe oranges?
As per usual, when your memories of the events leading up to your current disposition were hazy at best, you found yourself in the House of Hope. It was probably the eighteenth time. Or the twentieth. You weren’t exactly counting anymore.
“Still drawing breath, I see. How fortunate.”
It hurt to direct your eyes to the devil sitting in an armchair by the bed. No horns or wings today. His fingertips were pressed together and – well, fuck – did he look pissed.
“H-hey,” you greeted him in a hoarse voice. How long had you been out this time? Hours? Days? A week? You felt as if you had been wrestling with a pit fiend and lost.
Raphael’s frown deepened and his brows knitted together. He leaned forward in his seat and you could feel the aura of strong… displeasure radiating from him. It might not take many more times like this for him to finish you off himself, any contract be damned.
“Consider this the first and last time I will dig you from under a pile of bodies,” Raphael said in a tone as smooth as the sheets wrapped around your undeniably naked body.
This tone was worse than the times you had seen him lose his composure; it implied you had really been within an inch of your life – and so had his existence, by extension. You swallowed. Some pieces of distressing and gory memories surfaced and you felt sick. You had to pull at every bit of your willpower to not puke. What in the sweet Hells had happened?
Raphael stood up promptly, no doubt having only waited to see your eyes open and declare you alive. It was a habit he had formed during the previous seventeen times you had woken up in his house.
“Here, eat. You’ll need your strength to recover,” he said, motioning to the side table.
You turned to see pieces of a colourful fruit, neatly laid on a silver plate. That was why you had smelled oranges. The sweet scent was mouth-watering.
You cleared your throat and said: “Um, hey Raph?”
The devil stopped in his tracks, glaring at you over his shoulder. He absolutely hated the nickname, but it had never stopped you from using it. Annoying him was the greatest pastime House of Hope could offer.
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back for this one,” you continued, voice still a bit shaky and hoarse.
One side of Raphael’s mouth curled up and he nodded. “Rest now.”
And rest you did. And ate oranges. For three days you barely left the bed after initially going for a hunt for clothes. Raphael showed up only once a day to check that you were recovering. Haarlep kept you company and you accelerated the Archivist’s descent into madness by making him fetch you books from the library at least fifteen times a day. Raphael didn’t want you to socialise with his indebted souls, so besides the devil, you only talked to the incubus and the unlucky tiefling.
On the fifth day, Haarlep had trusted you with a knife and you were just digging into the second orange when Raphael walked in.
Once again in his human guise, his head tilted at the sight of you sitting up on the bed, a book splayed open across your lap and a knife and an orange in hand. Disapproval settled onto his features. You didn’t really care if you made a mess. He could always undo it with a snap of his fingers.
“Peel one for me?” Raphael asked and paced closer.
“I most certainly will not,” you replied instantly and plopped a piece of the juicy fruit into your mouth.
He sat down in the armchair and hummed. “A pity.”
“Can I leave today? I’m feeling fine now,” you said casually and chewed the fruit without any regard for table manners. Though, technically you were eating in bed.
“If you so insist,” Raphael nodded, “Although, there is one more matter I would raise.”
“What’s that?” you asked and munched on the last piece. Before leaving, you would have to ask Haarlep where Raphael got the fruits. They were delicious.
“As this was not a transaction, you’re not obliged to ‘pay me back’ as you so aptly put it, but I would request a small favour,” Raphael said and rested his ankle on his knee, fingertips once more pressed together as if he was negotiating a contract.
You groaned. Of course he wanted something. “And that would be?”
Raphael’s lips curled into a foreboding smile and he said:
“Peel me an orange.”
Any hint of amusement died from your face. “You’re truly the pettiest person I’ve ever met.”
#bg3 raphael#raphael bg3#raphael x reader#raphael x you#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#fanfiction#asks#requests#oranges 🍊
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Hey!! I'm loving your kinktober propts so far! May I please make a request for one? With that small Dragons of Dorne AU we made up? With Aegon x Aemond x Milf!Martell!Princess (I've been calling her Alanna)? Maybe with double vag penetration... and some good ol' lactation kink... 🤤🥵
AN: Hi, I hope you like it x
NSFW
“Always so hungry….” Alanna purred into her dragon’s ear; amusement dripping in her tone as well as the soft pleasure coming her way. Aemond had no words to reply as he only hummed; his hot mouth capturing her soft, ample breast. A soft chuckle escaped her before her sun kissed body rested back on the orange silks of her sheets.
Her body hummed with pleasure as the soft mouth of another dragon Prince was between her thighs. “Good boy.” Her praises fell from her lips with ease and she knew they would rile the boys up. They were wrapped so prettily around her finger, Alanna thought to herself. Oh, and how good it felt. Her stomach was already tightening in pleasure.
Her delicate, ringed fingers reached for Aemond’s soft, silky hair and brought him impossibly closer. Her sweet, sensitive nipples being attacked by his hunger as the Princess whines so prettily. It did not help that Aegon’s experienced tongue was lapping away at her flooding wetness. Her stunning, bare body arching in pleasure as she begins to ride his face.
“Gods, oh fuck.” Alanna was not one to hide her sounds of pleasure or the praises her dragons so desperately needed. “So good to me..” The words were falling from her once more as those dark eyes of hers rolled back. Her slender legs wrapped around Aegon as he only feasted more with hunger; those bright eyes of his looking up to his Goddess.
The milk was soon spilling from those heavy breasts of hers, much to Aemond’s delight. “Hmm, mine…” Aemond whispered mostly to himself as his free hand reached for her sweet breast and began to palm her. The climax ripping through her body without warning had her thrashing around like a woman possessed.
Aegon only fucked her through her orgasm as two of his thicker fingers were soon stuffed inside her weeping, creamy pussy. Aemond’s strong hold only tightened as he too feasted upon her body. Gods, she could never escape them now, she thought to herself. And if she was honest with herself; she did not want to either.
His thumb was brushing against her sweet, sensitive clit with ease and just before her moans could fall from her; Aemond’s soft lips captured her own. His tongue pushed in without asking but Alanna soon submitted with ease to him. The wet kiss was soon becoming messy as she began to drool and suck on his tongue.
Their noses brushed together before a sharp gasp escaped Alanna. Aegon’s fat, throbbing cock was pushing inside her fluttering, welcoming pussy. Aemond only darkly chuckles in her ear as he watches her pretty face screw up in pleasure. His larger hands slowly move down her silky skin as Aegon grunts out his own enjoyment.
Aemond slowly moved away but before any words could escape her; Aegon’s greedy lips were on hers. “My love…” He purred and slowly pushed her leg up and dangled over his shoulder as Aegon only pushed deeper. Alanna’s eyes rolled back once more as he began to hotly mouth down her soft, mouth watering neck.
Aemond’s hot mouth soon returned to her leaking breasts as he hummed happily. His tongue kitten licking her sweet tasting, pebbled nipple. Gods, he was obsessed, she thought to herself but she would have him no other way. Alanna was soon distracted by the harsh thrusts; Aegon’s fat, leaking head bullying her soft spot with ease.
Her slender legs were eagerly wrapping around his body and pulling him deeper; her own stomach tightening once more in anticipation as her whole body hummed. She could hear her heart racing in her ears as she whined so prettily against Aegon. His pride was rushing through him as Aegon darkly chuckled.
Her eyes were rolling back as those ringed hands of Alanna’s reached for the silk sheets to grab onto. Alanna did not notice Aemond slowly leaning away as her body jolted with each touch of Aegon’s slender fingers brushing against her creamy pussy. “Oh..oh my…” Her soft voice began to echo around her chambers.
A sharp gasp escaped her and those big, brown eyes of hers flashed open. The feel of another thick cock brushing over her sensitive clit had her mind softening for a moment. Aemond’s familiar, deep chuckles sounded out. “Shh, so good to us, hmm?” Aegon purred as his hands slowly moved over her body and gently stroked her.
Her hand reached out for his stomach as her eyes only widened. Those soft lips of hers began to part. Alanna’s pretty face screwed up in pleasure still as Aemond began to fist his fat cock; his leaking head tapping on her clit again and again. All she could do was whine as her inner thighs were now completely soaked.
“Too big — “ Alanna whimpered out as her heart only skipped a beat at the feel of Aemond slowly beginning to push in whilst Aegon slowed his thrusts to a stop. His thumb still rubbed at her sensitive clit that had her fluttering around them both. Aegon’s hand slowly moved over her stomach; pressing on the bulge in amusement.
Aemond’s hand slowly pushed her legs further apart as he grunted. Alanna’s warmth completely engulfed him. Allana could only gasp out; those big eyes of hers watering in pleasure as her head fell back onto the pillow. “Good girl…” Aegon chuckled whilst their pretty Princess was whimpering in pleasure before finding the courage to watch.
A foamy ring of cream had already formed around Aegon’s fat length as he slowly moved his hips now. “Fuck, so tight.” Aemond growled as inch by inch he was bottoming. Alanna could hardly breath as her body arched from the sheets. “Oh..oh gods…” Her cries of pleasure were only becoming louder now as the pleasure became more intense.
Aegon rubbed her sweet, sensitive clit faster as the boys chuckled at the sight of her losing control. Oh, it was an addictive sight, they thought to themselves as Alanna began to squirt. Aemond’s fat cock nearly fell from her before he pushed deeper. He groaned and his own hands reached for the sheets now as he leaned closer.
His lips were soon passionately capturing Alanna’s own as he began to nibble on her soft, plump bottom lip. His tongue eagerly pushed in as her eyes rolled once more. She was babbling absolute nonsense now. Aegon’s hand came down on her arse and caused her sweet, creamy pussy to clamp down on their cocks.
Aegon only chuckled and repeated the action again and again whilst another release was quickly building inside her. “Ahh-I…” Alanna was so close to passing out; it was all becoming too much as the pleasure overwhelmed her. “Fuck!” Aegon groaned; having been in her warmth the longest it was all too much for him also.
His cum was soon flooding her with ease as he pushed his fat cock deep, plugging her up but Aemond’s thrusts had it leaking down. Aegon groaned as he stayed inside her before leaning in and capturing her heavy breast in his hot mouth. Aemond’s body was slapping against hers as his eagerness overtook him with a passion.
Aegon bit into her soft skin and had Alanna crying out; her orgasm easily ripping through her. Aemond grunted in her ear before his slender fingers were soon roughly rubbing against her clit. Her toes curled as he pushed deep and she cried out at the feel of her spongy, weak spot being hit. It did not help that her milk moving into Aegon’s mouth only had him harder and his hips were soon rocking.
There was no end in sight.
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“So, they’re a friend of yours? What did I say about talking to other people?” + “Don’t make me hurt you.” + “Say that one more time and I’ll make sure you can never walk again.”
Pairings: Boyfriend!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Warning(s): violence, posessive themes, obsession, subtle mentions of abuse, slight stalking.
It was just a harmless meet-up, or at least it was supposed to be.
College life hadn't been easy for you, not only did you have to work hard to get into a course that interested you but you also had to think of your boyfriend Billy who had no interest in going to any colleges, he instead had started working as a mechanic.
The problem was he seemed to hate every other person you made friends with. He hated when you talked about anyone else, especially if they were guys.
That was a problem in itself, especially when it came to group or paired projects in college.
Since he got hurt back in high school in the fire at Starcourt, he's been a very distrustful person. Billy has expressed hatred for anyone who wasn't you; he became even more hateful and demanding.
He treated you well, or as well as someone like Billy Hargrove is capable of, but he can be a little too possessive at times.
Unfortunately, this is one of those times.
Your college professor had paired you up with Matthew Loomis; he was on the college football team. He wasn't known to be especially smart but was very sweet to girls.
So you planned to meet at the local diner to go over some work and plan your project.
You had deliberately kept the information from Billy, knowing he would try to scare Matt away. It wasn't like you were purposely sneaking around behind Billy's back; you told him you would do some studying, and in a way, you were.
Matt had been nothing but a gentleman and had you laughing for hours; even as the sun went down and a blue tone surpassed the horizon, the two of you sat and hung out.
It was nice to speak with someone who didn't glare at every person who looked your way or grip your thigh threateningly when someone's eyes trail over your form.
Glancing at the clock in the diner, you gasped, seeing the time. You had been out for hours. You were lucky Billy hadn't stormed the town looking for you; maybe he'd gotten caught up working.
Matthew seemed confused by your sudden change in personality as he watched you pack up with your stuff speedily. "Whoa, wait!" He calls, scooting out of the booth and after you as you scuttle away, seeming nervous.
Holding your bag over your shoulder and textbooks to your chest, you swore, seeing just how late it had actually become. Matt pulls on your arm so you come to a stop in front of him as he looks at you in concern and confusion.
You were about to say something to him when a small orange light caught your eye from inside a very familiar car. Billy stared at you from inside the vehicle, taking another drag of his cigarette before throwing it out the window.
"Oh no," You whispered, closing your eyes and hearing the car door creak open and slam shut. "You need to leave now. Quick," you said hastily as Matthew between you and the approaching Billy but didn't leave.
You try to erase the fear to leave your voice as you turn to smile at your stony expression boyfriend.
"Hey Billy," There was a slither of fear that accidentally slipped into your tone, which Matt apparently was quick to pick up on as he narrowed his eyes at the greeting.
Billy's stern expression doesn't change as he slips his arm around your waist, watching Matt like a viper ready to strike. "Billy, this is Matt" You introduce them hoping to ease the tension.
"So, they're a friend of yours? What did I say about talking to other people?" Billy says, turning his shocking blue eyes to look at you as if scolding you like a child.
"It's just for school. We have to do a project together," You say weakly, pulling your bag over your shoulder tighter as both look at you, Matt in concern, whereas Billy's blue eyes are glaring.
"Doesn't look like that from where I was sat." Billy hisses, and you gulp, knowing he must have been watching the two of you for a while before you even realized the time.
Matt scoffed when he realized it, too, his face pinched in disbelief. "What, you stalk your own girl or something?" He glances at you, but you quickly turn your head.
"Why you into her or something" Billy laughs almost cruelly. "Oh, you are, and you thought this would be your way in? Take her to some diner, give her some sweet talk, and hope she falls for you?"
Matt doesn't correct him but turns to face you. "Why are you with him? He obviously doesn't respect you. You deserve better than this piece of crap. I can treat you better".
"Don't make me hurt you." Billy hisses, taking off his denim jacket and thrusting it into your arms as you try and call him off, trying to get his attention and herd him back to his car.
"Billy, let's just go," You plead but get shoved aside as your boyfriend tries to intimidate your classmate, the same one that just revealed to your extremely jealous and possessive boyfriend that he is into you.
"Why don't you let me take you home? I don't want you getting into a car with him," Matt says, looking at you holding his hand out, ignoring Billy now as he tries to sway you.
"Say that one more time, and I'll make sure you can never walk again." Billy threatens, but you know better. That was a promise more than just an idle threat.
"You do look like the type that would hit a girl," Matt scoffed, and you could hear a pin drop in the sudden silence. That was the wrong thing to say to Billy. Especially knowing how his dad treated his mom before she left.
Only Matt didn't know that.
That was until Billy's balled-up fist made contact with his face, sending Matt to the floor, but he didn't stay there long. He got up to try and fight against Billy, though even being a stocky football player, he stood no chance.
"Billy, stop!" you try to step in but quickly stop seeing the look in your boyfriend's eyes. You just plead with him as your friend is beaten on increasingly. "Please!"
"Fucker" Billy spits at Matt, who is on the floor gasping in pain now, his face covered in blood, and you can do nothing to help him as Billy leans down to warn him, "You don't look in her direction again, got it?"
"I said stop it, Billy!" You say, walking closer, holding his jacket tightly in your arms.
Billy quickly gets up and pins you against the car, covering your mouth as you sob. He snatches his jacket from your hands and slams it on top of the car as he pulls you over to see your friend.
"This is what happens when someone tries to take what's mine," Billy hisses, holding you against his front with his hand covering your mouth tightly.
"Are you going to lie to me again?" You shake your head with tears dropping over Billy's hand before he presses a kiss against your head, whispering gravelly in your ear, "Good girl."
#horror#horror slashers#slashers#reader insert#stranger things#stranger things season 4#birthday prompts#prompt challenge#dark fics#horror baby birthday#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargove imagine#possessive billy hargrove
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BUTTERCUP | master shake x reader
— 6. | an ego thing
a/n : I haven’t proof read it enough times yet so I’m sorry I’m advance if there’s errors lmao
"What you did was irresponsible, rude, and quite frankly, a little immoral!"
"Well, what did you expect me to do! You should've known better than to put me in charge. It's anything, it's your fault for not being home!"
"I didn't! I put y/n in charge of the house, and you messed everything up and pissed off meatwad." Frylock crossed his arms, an eye narrowing on Shake.
Yeesh, you really didn't wanna listen to their arguing at your job.
You cringe inwardly, glancing around the small diner to see the few people's gazes starting to focus on your roommate's argument.
"Kay- can we like, not do this here?" You speak up, a little look of annoyance starting to flood your features. "You're gonna get me fired."
"So what? What's a job good for, anyway! You're workin' for the man, and not yourself." Shake looks back to your pleading face.
"Yeah, well, thats how I get to buy things, and live with a roof over my head." You respond, going back to filling up meatwad's glass of orange juice.
Shake looks away. "Pft. Who needs that?"
"Your sorry ass, when he kicks you out!" You gesture towards frylock, who was glaring at shake.
Shake huffs, crossing his arms. He clearly forgot about the situation at hand. "He can't survive without me there. I'm the one that holds that house together, if you hadn't noticed."
Frylock scoffs, and you place the cup of juice back down on the countertop with a little eye roll.
"Right— the minute you leave, is the day I finally get some peace and quiet." Frylock sighs, dulling his eyes.
"You love havin me around!" Shake argues.
Frylock carefully picks up the steaming mug of coffee, and sips it. "Keep it up, Shake. One more slip up, and I'm not gonna feel sorry when your ass ends up on Carl's lawn."
Frylock's tone sounded so done with shake. And rightfully so.
Meatwad side eyed Shake with a little knowing smirk hidden on his face. He took another bite of the chicken tender from his plate.
The look clearly didn't go unnoticed, and shake glares the boy's way. "The hell are you lookin' at?" He asks, leaning over into Frylock's personal space in order to scare Meatwad with a death glare.
Okay, this was going on for too long now.
From under the counter, you dip your fingers in the melted corner of the ice case, and flick it at Shake's face with a little smirk.
He flinches, shooting upward and looking towards you with a look of, 'what the hell was that'.
"Hey!" Shake starts to retort, but you grab his plate and slide it towards you. Oh, he did not like that.
"Leave him alone, and shut up. Eat your food, before I have to take it away." You push it back, leaving him with wide eyes of amusement at your behavior.
Just as he was about to retort, frylock came to the rescue.
He sighs, wiping his face with a napkin, and gives you a thoughtful expression. After all, they were causing a scene at your job. "Everyone, just- - try to behave. It's rude."
"Whatever." Shake shuts up, and meatwad goes back to eating the rest of his meal in a guilty silence.
"Y/N, what time do you get off your shift?" Frylock asks through an audibly tired voice. He tries to change the conversation, and honestly, you were kinda grateful for it. There was just only so much you could tolerate in one sitting.
"I just gotta finish up those two tables over there, but it won't take me long at all." You respond, a gentle smile on your face.
"I was thinking maybe we should go shopping for some groceries later. It has been a while.." you saw the embarrassment creasing into Frylock's face, so you nod along with a soft smile of reassurance.
Things happen, and life gets in the way. You totally understand how that goes, and choose to empathize with him.
"Sure, yeah. We can do that." You turn your attention to shake and lean your elbows on the counter. "What do you guys want us to pick up from the store?"
Shake smirks a bit, stealing a slight glance down the front of your uniform shirt. It was within seconds that you noticed. "I know what I want, baby—"
"I bet you do." You play along with a light curl of your lip, now earning frylock and meatwad's attention in shock.
"But right now, we need to know what you guys wanna eat for meals and stuff."
You think the last thing that shake was expecting, was for you to enable that situation. He prolly figured you'd just get pissed off, and swat him away. But, his attention was starting to grow on you now, so that wasn't necessarily the case anymore. Why not just let this roll?
Frylock clears his throat, awkwardly, seeing the shocked expression on Shake's face.
He was totally noticing what was up now.
A thought came to Shake as you notice the way his smiles stretches. "Lasagna~! Quattro formaggio," shake makes Italian gestures with his hands. Meatwad grins with amusement, looking up at the male beside him.
"Italian food!"
"I've gotta admit, shake can make a really good lasagna dish." Frylock smiles weakly, holding his cheek in his hand with a tired expression.
"Hell yeah, I do." Shake smiles proudly, eyes drifting up to meet yours. With his arms crossed over his chest, you notice the smug little look of pride he had.
"Carl likes it too. Which is half the reason I make it."
Amused, you crack up a little grin. "You make it for Carl?"
That didn't sound like the Shake you knew. He never did anything for anybody.
Frylock shakes his head. "Don't get the wrong idea. Shake likes to mess with Carl's head. He doesn't actually let him eat any of it."
Confused, you turn to shake for answers.
Shake grins, "I just put that shit on a leash, and let him run. Sometimes he breaks his neck, sometimes he lets me swim in his pool." He shrugs innocently, "It's a win win either way!"
Damn, he was really fucked up for that. But how could you not love that about him—?
"That's messed up," you snicker, taking all three of their empty plates and walking them to the dirty buss pan. "But I'm so here for it."
Shake smiles widely at your response; clearly you piqued his interest. Not just anybody would laugh at the cruel pranks he liked to pull. But you did.
_____________________
You peer over Shake's shoulder, an intensifying grin creeping up on your face, as you noticed the little annoyances you've been causing him.
Shake was making up that lasagna dish; something you could only believe if you saw it with your own eyes.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to put together my masterpiece, here!"
You only smirk in a retort. "Shut up, you love it."
"I am pretty hard to stay away from. That's why they call me the chick magnet." He shrugs you off with a nervous smile, and focuses his eyes back down on the sauce he was using. "Now listen- I know that only I can make this taste good, but I'm gonna let you put the cheese on it." He takes a step back, eyeing you. "Since you wanna be apart of this plan."
Wow, he was letting you help him? How thoughtful.
"Don't mess it up! It's a delicacy," His shouting made your ears ring.
"Okay, I got it, Fuck." You snap back. Of course, this only made him glare harder, but whatever.
Shake was so dramatic, fuck.
Rolling your eyes was the only other proper bodily response you could give, before bumping him aside to place yourself in front of the half prepared lasagna dish. It did look pretty good..
Reaching your hand into the bag of cheese, you begin to sprinkle it around the pasta.
Then, he hands you the other cheeses to put into the pan. "Okay, good. Not as good as what I'd do, but it'll probably be fine." He mumbles, standing over your shoulder.
Dangerously close, you noted.
You turn your head over your shoulder to deadpan him with a look of annoyance, but you couldn't help that butterfly feeling that kept trying to crawl up your throat. Shit.
You caught the feels.
You inhale a soft breath, and look back down to the pasta dish. Just try to ignore him! That was super easy- - right—?
Even though now his hand was reaching in front of you to grab the other cheese— oh shit, his shoulder is totally bumping into yours because he doesn't know personal space even if it whacked him in the face.
"Kay, now what?" You break the silent tension you felt, looking to him. Shake grabs the dish, and throws some seasoning throughout it. "We bake it, then the fun can happen." The smirk was bright and cheery on his face.
"Cool," you chortle.
Shake tosses the pan in the oven, and sets a timer for it. His eyes then set on you, narrowing a little.
You frown, looking up at him. What was he looking at?
"What," Your tone came out a little sour, and you didn't mean for it to. He didn't seem to mind, though.
His gloved hand reaches out, and soon enough, you feel his thumb brushing at your cheek. "You've got sauce on your face, dumbass."
Welp, that's embarrassing.
You can feel the heat in your face rise as he wipes off your cheek, not so gently, and sticks his tongue out with disgust.
"Gee, thanks." You turn away, brushing your cheek off with the back of your arm.
Then, a thought floods it's way back into your head suddenly.
Weren't you supposed to be doing something..?
"Oh!" You rub your cheek, hoping there wasn't any stain still left on your skin. "I was supposed to post you making that," you pout a bit, gesturing to the fact that he was still supposed to be your fake boyfriend. How could you forget?
He looks at you with a questioning expression. "Huh?"
"Y'know- - My boyfriend made me lasagna," you tease, pulling out the phone from your pocket.
Now it came back to him.
He nods slowly, "Riiight. Right!" Shake smirks proudly, opening up the oven door to crack it. "It's not too late." Heat blows out, and you look inside the crack to see the pan sitting there, trying to bake.
You angle your phone camera on it, but you feel your other hand being grabbed.
What was he doing—?
"C'mere," Looking down, shake forces your hand on the oven door handle, and guides you to grab it. He then puts his hand on top of yours, and holds it. "Come on, take the picture already!"
Your cheeks did that weird thing again where they got all hot and clammy. Shit shit shit.
Oh, and now your heart is speeding up a little? What the fuuuuuck.
You take the picture of your hands on the handle, and smile up at him, though it felt pressured now. "Got it,"
He shuts the door, and suddenly his face was flared up, too. Damn, was he sweating?
"Cool, great, good!" He laughs out, but it sounded awkward. "I bet that asshole thinks I'm sexier than him. Like— what were you even thinking? Going for a guy like that," shake laughs at you. Of course, it was just him turning the situation around onto you again, because why wouldn't he be a narcissist?
You let yourself frown slightly.
"You're too good for him, obviously." Shake then adds onto the statement, though his voice grew a bit more honest. There's another smile lingering in his features when he says that.
Your frown turns upward at him slightly. "Yeah . . I know." Your voice is light; not even defensive, because you knew how shitty you let that guy treat you.
"I know you know!" He says, "If there's one thing I know- it's women. And women want me."
Welp, that ruined the moment.
The smirk on his face was enough to make you laugh at him. In all the time that you've known each other, you didn't see a single girl trying to talk to him. Ever.
If anything, you were the first. And that . . Well, that's saying something.
"Yeah?" You ask through a chortle, "Where are they, then."
Shake quickly frowns with annoyance, and crosses his arms. "Well, obviously they can't come around, if they see you next to me." He defends himself poorly. You shrug in response and laugh a little again.
"Riiight. That makes sense," sarcastically, you nod along to tease him. Does he know you're just teasing him? You weren't sure.
"It does! How else can a hot babe come up to me if I already have one next to me? They'd get jealous, obviously!" Shake rolls his eyes. "And, I don't need any more girl drama. Which is why I keep telling them not to come around anymore,"
His voice was so casual when lying, that it was almost kinda insane.
The other thing insane about that story though, was Shake just called you hot.
Score.
Not that you didn't know that already.
"I knew I was hot," you tease, looking over at him with a little smirk. "Girl drama is literally ridiculous though. You're better off with just me."
His eyes widen a little at your comment. Obviously he took it in the way you meant it.
"Yeah, I probably would be. But y'know, there's still plenty of me to go around." He points his thumbs towards himself, and gives off a cocky smirk.
"Shut up, cup." You laugh him off with a light shove on the shoulder, letting his nickname slip from your mouth. It was something you've picked up from Carl over the years of hangin' around the boys. It never seemed to bother him too much, but you knew he'd prefer a less demeaning name.
"You gotta make me," Shake's smile is innocently bright, and all you can do is stare back with a challenging grin.
Ooh, that was it- -
To your right on the counter, you notice the bowl of pudding Meatwad had left out. When you and Frylock went shopping earlier, you should've expected the two ding bats to go on a binge fest of junk food, because they totally did. They left food out all over the place.
The evil grin on your face was enough to show Shake that you had tricks up your own sleeve.
Not even bothering to care how sticky and slimy it was on your fingers, you dipped your hand into the bowl and quickly smacked the pudding to his face.
The challenge was so on.
His eyes widen, shock taking over his body as the chocolate pudding smears across his cheek and mouth. That was not at all what he expected from you when he meant for you to shut him up.
"Y/N! What the hell!"
You laugh loudly, crouching down in a defense stance as he wipes the chocolate from his face.
"I'll kill you," Without a second thought, Shake lunges towards your laughing figure, hands grabbing yours playfully, and soon you find yourself backed into and trapped against the counter.
With your backside to the cabinets, you look up at him with a pleading smile, still finding it absolutely hilarious that you caught him off his game like that.
"I'm sorry! Shake— I'm sorry, I swear," you wheeze out through laughter, hands up and still being tightly held by Shake's.
"Shoulda thought about that sooner!" His one hand let go of yours, and with one swift movement, snatched the glass of water from the countertop, and splashed it at you with a wild grin.
"Hey!" You squeal out and tense up as the water quickly runs down your cheek and neck.
Game on, bitch.
You push him back as he chuckles under his breath.
"Asshole," There wasn't much time to think it through anymore, so you grab the closest food item to you, and smash it at him. Shake dodged, but it ended up still managing to hit his body anyway.
The two of you now wrestled a bit with each other; hands locked, and push and shoving each other playfully.
Actually, it was probably the most fun you and Shake had together in a long time.
"I swear- - Y/N, if I wasn't letting you win, I'd beat your ass," shake glares up at you from the hold you had on him. You now currently had him pinned down to the floor of the kitchen, food everywhere, sitting on his back. The smirk you had on your face was beaming with amusement as your tilt your head down at him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, letting me win? I own your ass right now."
He grunts, dulling his irritated eyes up at you. "I'm only going easy on you because you're a broad!"
"Pfft— yeah, right. You couldn't beat me if you tr—" the wind almost gets knocked out of you when you suddenly find yourself being flipped over with your back to the floor. Shake smirks, and now holds you down by sitting on you.
"Ugh, oh my god, fatass, get off me!" You wheeze out, glaring up at him. His prideful smile was enough to let you know that, okay, maybe he was sorta letting you win earlier.
"It's muscle weight! And don't smack me with pudding, then maybe I would!" He declares, eyes narrowing now as the pressure of his gloved hands holds your arms down to the floor at shoulder height.
"I'm sorry," You pout playfully up at him, wiggling your wrists out of his grasp, but not to much use.
"Not good enough!" He says. "I think it's time you learned not to mess with the master~!" Shake was totally not bluffing anymore, and you knew he was unhinged enough to actually hit you, or throw more food at your face- which you didn't want.
So, you flinch, wincing up at him.
"Truce!"
Managing to speak with half of his body weight sitting on top of you was actually so hard to do.
"Wait— Is this the part where I kiss you?" He asks, in the dumbest, most casual way only shake could manage.
"Oh my god," you groan. With some thought behind it, you manage to flip yourself to your side, and kick him off you. Shake lands beside you on the floor, and you remember not to take breathing for granted.
You slowly rise up to a sitting position, and glare look at him. "Lose some weight."
Shake glares up at you, and switches to a sitting position as well. "I can't help that my muscles are too big! You're just too weak to handle the weight." The narcissism rolls off his tongue so smoothly. Shake was always good at turning situations or facts around on other people. It was sort of like a really fucked up gift.
You stand to your feet, brushing off any leftover food that clung to you.
"Want me to pin you to the floor again?" Your threat only made his smile grow, and you could imagine why.
"No, because I'm always on top!" His smile stretched, and you roll your eyes at him. "Haha! Boom! Someone should be writing these down,"
The timer on the oven dings, alerting the both of you.
Whoops, you totally forgot all about the lasagna in the oven during all this play fighting.
"Come on, honey, let's go offer our neighbor some food~" you stand to your feet, and hold out a hand for him. Shake stares at it before locking eyes with you, and smirking.
His hand grabs yours, and stands to his feet.
Pulling you into him, shake wraps an arm around your shoulder and smiles. "A little taste of Italy, right to his door. He should be paying us!"
You lean into his hold and find yourself smiling up at him. "Once we get to use his pool, it'll all be worth it!"
Shake laughs and let you go. "As long as I get to see you in a hot bikini, babe."
#master shake#athf shake#athf#frylock#meatwad#athf frylock#aqua teen hunger force#carl brutananadilewski#aqua teen forever#master shake x reader#shake x reader
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⸸ .Pointed Passion. ⸸
Not proof read (ofc),SFW,Nerd/Loser Ellie.
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Ellie was a neighborhood ‘friend’ (mostly just an acquaintance to you since she was kind of weird..) You were invited over for some shitty Barbecue with your parents and Ellie’s 'dad', Joel. Ellie being the only person around your age you decided to hang out with her, even though you’d much rather just talk with some old lady in the backyard about what she saw on CBS or how her cats are doing..
You sat on Ellie's bed quietly as she showed off all of her knives, deeply explaining on which does what and how each work.
"It’s actually different because this one has these grooves- Are you even listening??” Ellie asked through the sound of shitty country music and laughter from the backyard.
The truth was,you were at first but it got tiring, real fast.
“Yeah but like.. They all look the same..Like a shaft then a blade. Duh..”
“They’re all different! Don’t you see?! The bowie knives are longer and have better grip, these switchblades are shorter and more concealable. This ones the only one with a serrated blade! Do you need me to make it any more simpler?!”
You stayed quiet,wanting to laugh at her anger and how easy she got upset over her knives but you stayed calm and silent so she didn’t stab you or something..
“Uh..and serrated means..?” You felt somewhat dumb for asking, but you knew she would tell you regardless of hating your guts right now.
“It means the teeth on the blade make it more effective at cutting through flesh, but also if it’s not sharp enough it can jam. So, depending on what I’m gonna cut, either the switchblade or the Bowie knife would be the best option. It’s not as simple as you think..”
“Mhmm..okay.. well uh..why do you have so many anyways..?”
“Why do people collect stamps? Or coins? It's the hobby I happen to have.” Ellie snapped at you making you laugh quietly..
“Alright then..and..why don’t you like my rocks??” you laughed slightly trying to ease the moment so Ellie didn’t explode.
“You’re not seriously comparing your little rock collection to my knife collection are you? Rocks don’t kill people.” Ellie snapped back.
“And stamps do..?” Your tone was teasing, referring to her last point on 'stupid' stamp collections.
“Don’t get smart with me. My collection is useful, yours is just..rocks.” Ellie mumbled,she could feel her palms getting clammy and her voice trembling in anger.
“Are you getting upset Ellie?” You laughed at her and scoffed.
“..what?! No. I’m not upset-..do I look upset..?”
“yes. Alright.. then.. I’m getting a hotdog."
You started to leave Ellie’s room to go down to the backyard to try and leave this awkward situation..
“..H-Hey! Wait for me! I want a hotdog too!”
Ellie hops off the bed and followed you after shuffling to put her knife away and regaining her composure.
“Copycat..” You laughed at her for following you.
Ellie pushed you a bit and scoffed, “Whatever. Maybe I’m just hungry..The world doesn’t revolve around you y’know?”
“Jesus, are you always an asshole? Maybe that’s why you don’t have many friends.”
Ellie pushed you out of the way snatching your hotdog plate and storming off to her room angrily.
“Okayy then.” You rolled your eyes at her and sat outside on one of the fold up chairs by the fire.
. . .
Sitting outside with the elders made you just as bored,you couldn’t wait to go home and just sleep everything off. Getting so bored though made you doze off in your seat and take a small nap next to the fire in the crisp breeze.
Ellie couldn’t help but glance small looks at you in your sleep, how could she not.. She liked the way the fire had a soft orange glow on your face, the way your hair moved so slightly in the breeze, How your nose and cheeks were a soft pink from the air getting colder.. Ellie noticed the temperature dropping the later it got, she couldn’t leave you asleep out there in the dark so Ellie decided to use all her might and pick you up, draping you over her shoulders like a kid, trying not to wake you.
“Huh..? Dad..that you..?” You mumbled being disrupted from sleep.
"It's Ellie." Ellie whispered, her voice barely above a murmur laying you down into her bed carefully..Her hands tracing soft patterns on your arms and the marks on your body..
She covered you with a warm blanket, tucking it around your shoulders with care. The touch of her fingers against your skin sent shivers down your spine..
She glanced at your face, her heart racing as she saw the slight confusion and sleepiness in your eyes.. "You fell asleep out there, and it's freezing..I couldn't just let you freeze to death out there.. Just thought I'd make you comfy.." Ellie spoke quietly with a gentle smile.
"You're too kind." You yawned and snuggled up into her bed reaching to hold her hand gently.
Ellie froze and let everything happen, she stood there and rubbed your hand gently and getting into her bed next to you.
"You..want to watch anything..?" Ellie whispered to you, barely awake.
"mm..n..no.." You mumbled quietly, leaning into Ellie's chest and closing your eyes..
Ellie took her hands and ran then through your hair massaging your scalp gently till you were fully asleep.
"Goodnight doll."
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okkk...Sorry I know this sucks. Ive had this in my drafts for at least 3 months now. Maybe I'll re-write it idk.. LOL
Sorry for being on a small break I've had like no ideas for fics so if you want anything specific use my Anonymous request thingy and I'll answer it if it's SFW. <3
#loser ellie#fanfic#tlou fic#wlw#lesbian#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams#ellie x y/n#ellie x reader#fluff#tlou fluff#sapphic#lgbtq#ellie tlou#the last of us 2
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Jade Congrats !!!!! Just yesterday I was thinking about how much I miss vampire Eddie, can I request something w him and shy reader? Maybe when he's feeling like he's dangerous for reader and she has to reassure him that she trust him and adores him <3
tysm lovely! ♡ 1.2k
It physically pains you to call the same person multiple times. Each loop of the trill makes you antsy, eager to shove down the receiver and curl into a sorry, sad ball. You let it ring. When it goes to answer phone, you type in Eddie's number and call again.
It picks up. Breathless, a little surprised, you ask, "Eddie?"
"Hey, sweetheart."
He sounds defeated. You're not perfect with tone but the subtleties of his stick stark like a neon sign. Your boyfriend has bouts of depression that often manifest in a lethargic voice like this.
"Hi, Eddie. I was just calling to make sure you're home before I come over." Usually, you'd ask, but you don't want him to say no. It feels rude and weird and overbearing, but you know what he's thinking. Leaving your comfort zone for his sake isn't easy, and you do it anyway. "I made you something."
"Okay. I can't wait to see it… can't wait to see you. Sorry I didn't answer this morning, I was sleeping."
"That's fine. I'm just happy you're okay, I was worrying about you."
You pack his gift into a bag with a tupperware of cookies and a thermos of hot chocolate. Eddie's home is close to yours. Within ten minutes you're knocking on his door with wind-bitten cheeks, the September cold nipping your heels. Leaves from the trees in the surrounding woodlands dance crispy at your feet, orange and brown mulch that sticks to your treads.
Eddie unlocks the door to let you in. You see his hand first, deathly pale, black obsidian rings crowding his fingers where they curl around the door. For a second it's like he's going to turn you away, but he widens the gap and you squeeze inside.
He forgets whatever's wrong to touch your face. "Hey," he says, his hand slipping to cup under your jaw.
"Hi. You okay? You look pale."
"Am I usually more tan?" he asks, dropping his hand. "Fine. Blood sate in a few days. For now I'm eating rare steak and wishing I was dead."
He's kidding around, but you take his hand and squeeze his cold fingers.
"You're as cold as me," he says.
"It's nearly October outside. You'd know if you left the house."
He hums at your telling off, the two of you toe to toe just behind the front door. He sounds vaguely admonished and more curious, kneading your fingers in his with an unmissable amount of love. "Come on," he says, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles, "you need a blanket."
You take off your shoes and coat, following Eddie through his living room, past the bathroom and into his bedroom. It's immaculately clean for once, but when you left the day before yesterday it was chaos. Something tells you he hasn't been sleeping as much as he claims.
"What have you been doing in here?" you ask, putting your backpack on the bed. Eddie moves behind you, taller, a sweetheart through and through as he gets his hands on your shoulders and digs his thumbs in lightly.
"I need to apologise to you," he says.
"That's a big word."
"I lied to you earlier, I wasn't sleeping, but I've been thinking… I needed to think."
Well, what he's saying is nerve-wracking, but his hands aren't telling the same story. He's doing it on purpose for sure. "You don't have to say sorry for wanting time to think. Uh–"
"Relax," he says. "Please. I just want to talk to you about something. Don't be nervous."
"I'm constantly nervous."
"I know." Eddie's hands pause at the space below your shoulder blades. It's strange not to be looking at him. He takes a deep breath. "Is that because of me?"
You take your thermos out of your bag and turn. His pupils are small as they tend to be before a blood sate, his lips chapped. He starts to look poorly when he's hungry. The cookies and hot drink should help.
"If it was because of you, how come I was like this before we met?" you ask gently, offering him the thermos.
"Do I make it worse?"
"Of course you don't." How do you describe it to him? He's handsome and sweet and he makes you feel like you're something special. He's smart. He's fucking funny. Nothing about his demeanour or who he is has ever made you nervous, you've only ever worried you wouldn't measure up.
It's hard to say out loud. Tentative, you put your hands on his waist. When he lifts his chin, you hug him close, strangely close to tears at the smell of him under your nose.
"Eds, why would you think that? Have I made you think that?" you murmur.
"You know what I am." He tosses your thermos on the bed to cover your shoulders.
"Yeah, I do."
"You wouldn't tell me if I scared you–"
You flinch backward. "You think you scare me?"
The starts of his eyebrows rise, his little box of wrinkles pinched, and his pupils slowly widening. When he speaks, it's with the practised cadence of a well-worn worry, "I'm not normal. You don't have to pretend that this is normal."
"It doesn't feel normal to me," you say, placing your hand on his chest, fingertips against his shirt but palm hovering a half inch above. "It just feels like love. I love you, and I trust you. Is that what's worrying you?"
"No," he says, winded. "I'm worried I'll hurt you. I know you trust me too much, you're," —he takes your face into big hands, kissing you very softly between words— "not the problem."
You hug again. Cheek to cheek, an arm slung over his shoulder protectively.
You miss your happy, weirdo boyfriend when he gets like this, but you understand why it happens. You don't resent him, don't mind, really, that he needs to be told these things. You'll be cheesy and soft as long as he needs it.
"You're not the problem, either. You're a really good guy with a big heart and a propensity for catastrophizing," you say, your voice tipping into a teasing ire that borders theatrical.
He laughs like he was supposed to and steps back. Face I'm his hands, you turn your cheek into his left palm and smile into his syrupy brown eyes.
"I haven't given you your gift."
"I love you," he says. Licking his lips, "What gift?"
You made him a coaster out of air dry clay, black and lacquered with a glaze that gleams like mother of pearl. He reads it and snorts, his top lip peeling back to expose the barest hint of a sharp tooth. "I heart my paranormal boyfriend," he reads, his voice gritty with humour. "Bit on the nose."
You get a kiss for your efforts, firmer than the one he'd given you minutes before. Eddie's gonna be just fine in a couple of days, but for now you'll stick close. You don't want him getting the wrong idea —he doesn't scare you even slightly.
#luveline's 40k party#vampire!eddie#vampire!eddie munson#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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