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doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou · 3 months

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Oiled Paintings

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? nope.

> content/warnings: mentions of arson, R is a closeted french

> a/n: this idea just came to me in the shower 🤷🏻‍♀️ let me know if anyone wants another part lol, and please tell me if the french here is okay enough 😭

“Alright, alright! Hush now!”

Teaching 8th graders the sense of art can either be a joy or a pain in someone’s ass—your ass, to be precise. Fortunately for you, it was both. There were days when the transitioning children were calm, and there were days when they reverted back to their kindergarten selves.

“All of you are required to bring aprons for our next meeting,” you told them as you wrote down a list of things they should bring. “You can also bring spare shirts, preferably dark ones, to top off your uniforms.” You reminded them gently as you watched most of the students write down what you listed on the board.

As you were watching them, a hand shot up from the side. “Miss, what are we doing at our next meeting?” Iya, a bright student who always helped you discipline her classmates, asked.

Giving Iya a smile, you crossed your arms and leaned back. “Remember our last lesson about paintings?” Your students nodded their heads. “Well, we’re going to do oil painting at our next meeting.” You topped off the list with a title that said OIL PAINTING.

A series of wohoo’s and yey’s were met with your announcement. Since you started teaching them how to properly mix paint, they’ve been waiting for an activity that consisted of paint, being dirty, and, of course, being free to paint whatever they wanted to. Raising your hands, you motioned for them to quiet down. “Alright, quiet down. I know everyone is excited—especially you, Jake. But before you leave, I just want everyone to know that I will need you to write what topic you are going to paint, just so we can have it as clean as possible. Just leave it with your last teacher for today.”

Right as you wrapped up your announcement, the bell rang, and the students began to stand and pile up outside the door for lunch. “Good job today, guys! Let’s go.” You gave them their signal to go.

As the last student went down the stairs, you went inside your classroom and prepared your laptop bag to go towards the teacher’s lounge on your floor. Yet, when you entered the lounge, you were met with a balloon on your face.

What in the hell is happening?

You swatted the balloon away and observed the room; it was full of decoration, and Mrs. Microft’s name was printed on a tarp just above the windows. As you read the small words below Mrs. Microft’s name, the information hit you. The elderly math teacher, who somehow harbored a disdain for you, was retiring. You scratched your nape and decided that the woman deserved to be wished off with peace, which included you not showing your face to her and watching it scrunch up with a frown.

Where am I going to take my lunch?

You thought as you travelled down the building with a frown. Not really paying attention, you bumped into Jacob, another 8th grade teacher, who somehow has not even shown his face in the 2nd floor lounge since he began teaching at Abbott. You weren’t even sure he knew your name.

"Hey, Y/N!” Well, he certainly did know your name. “Where are you going?”

Giving Jacob a nervous smile, you held up your lunch bag. “A place for lunch.” This had Jacob raising his eyebrows in curiosity. So, you decided to ease his mind and answered the unasked question. “The 2nd floor teachers are having a farewell party for Mrs. Microft, and since the woman clearly hates me—” You and Jacob walked down the stairs towards the 1st floor lounge. “I decided that stressing her with my face was too much, even for Satan’s cousin.”

Jacob nodded his head as you told him what happened; he didn’t even know that he was leading you to the 1st floor lounge. When you stopped talking, both of you were faced with the lounge’s door. “Well, we’re already at the front of the 1st floor lounge; you can take your lunch here. Although I would warn you—” He opened the door and motioned for you to step closer. “Mr. Morton takes his lunch here, so if he bothers you, just turn your head in another direction.”

Stepping inside, you nodded your head at Jacob. You weren’t really sure as to why he would warn you about Mr. Morton, because the science teacher is a softie towards certain people, and that includes you. "Sure, Mr. Hill, thank you for the heads-up.” The first person you saw inside was, of course, Mr. Morton, who stood up and walked towards you.

Crossing his arms, Mr. Morton raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, well. Look at who the bird brought in.” A minute went by, and Jacob had his breath on hold as he watched Mr. Morton eye you up and down. Yet, as you reciprocated the action towards Mr. Morton, the science teacher gave you a smile and a pat on the shoulder, then went back towards his seat.

Jacob released his breath and huffed before taking your shoulders and guiding you towards his, Janine's, and Gregory’s table. “I knew this seat was going to be taken soon!” He motioned for you to sit down in between him and Janine.

The moment you sat down, Janine was all over you like ants on sugar. “Hi! I’m Janine, Miss Teauges, but you already know that—I'm one of the second grade teachers.” To be honest, you didn’t even know her name, so you were grateful that she said it. “This is Gregory, the first grade teacher. He was a sub before being permanent; apparently, he just waited for the students to warm up to him before telling Ava he wanted to apply for the position permanently." You noticed that Janine waved her hands a lot when she told a story. Gregory tended to just listen to her, even when she spoke over him.

Ah, he’s in love.

However, on the other table, Melissa and Barbara can tell you were getting irritated at Janine’s incessant babbling. And before you decide to stand up and leave the room, Barabara chooses to intervene. "Ah, Janine. I doubt Miss...”

Turning your head and giving Barbara your attention, you replied. “L/N. Y/N L/N. 8th grade teacher, arts.”

Barbara gave you a nod and continued. “I doubt Ms. L/N is interested in how Gregory decided to apply for a permanent position.” With this, Janine gave Barbara a tight-lipped smile and leaned against her chair. Giving Janine a glance, you offered Barbara a grateful nod. “Oh, I’m Mrs. Howard, kindergarten teacher.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Howard.” You gave her a blinding smile and turned to the other teacher beside Barbara. “And Mrs.” The redheaded teacher beside Barbara looked at you with a raised eyebrow and smirked.

“Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti. You call me Ms. Schemmenti, capisce?” Melissa—Ms. Schemmenti pointed at you using her fork, making your eyes widen. Giving the redhead a nervous smile, you dug into your lunch box and grabbed your lunch.

Giving her friend a glance at her odd behavior, Barbara cleared her throat and turned back to you. “So, Y/N, why haven’t we seen you before? How many years have you been working here at Abbott?”

Tearing your gaze from Melissa, you gave Barbara a smile as you unpacked your lunch. “Ah, I’ve been here for five years. I teach 8th grade art, so I always spend my time in my classroom.” You finished explaining before taking a bite of your chicken salad.

Melissa watched you as you took a bite of the chicken out of your salad and scrunched up her nose. “Is that Parisian Chicken Salad?” The redhead leaned her back against the table while scrutinizing your lunch.

You finished chewing the chicken before giving her a reply. “Uh, yes.” You gave her a frown while taking your water bottle out of your bag. “You French?” With her assumption, you choked on your water and coughed. Fortunately, you didn’t spit any of it on the table or towards Janine, who watched you banter with Melissa.

Shaking your head frantically, you replied. “No. I just... like French food.” Your answer made Melissa purse her lips and turn her back to you.

Noticing the change in the atmosphere, Jacob asked. “So, Y/N, you didn’t answer Barbara’s question completely.” This made you look at Jacob with gratification in your eyes. As you were about to answer, Mr. Morton beat you to it.

"Y/N, are you down here because of Mrs. Microft?” Mr. Morton asked you without looking up from his phone. The information brought up made Melissa look up from her phone and towards you with an eyebrow raised.

Clearing your throat, you nodded sheepishly. “Uh-huh. Apparently the teachers upstairs are throwing a farewell party for her.” You glanced at Barbara and Melissa to see their reaction. Both of them harbored a shocked expression at what you said. Giving a shrug in their direction, you continued. “Yeah, and because Mrs. Microft doesn’t really like me—” You leaned forward. “She always frowns when she sees my face.” You leaned back. “I thought I'd give her the day and leave her alone.”

Mr. Morton waved your worries aside and scoffed. “If I were you, I wouldn’t give that old hag the satisfaction of having a peaceful day.” Now, he turned his phone off and leaned back against the couch, then looked at you. “Remember that day when you found your paint brushes cut to pieces and broken into two?” You nodded at this.

Remembering that day, you walked into your classroom to find all of the paint brushes that the children had used the day before were either broken or ruined to oblivion. After cleaning the brushes up and wiping your tears while doing so, you talked to Ava to let her see the CCTV tape just outside your classroom, but she told you that the CCTV cameras didn’t work on the second floor. The talk only lasted for five minutes before Ava kicked you out, and Mr. Johnson found you crying in the janitor’s closet. That’s how you formed a bond with the janitor; the whole day you spent your vacancies with him, learning why and how the songs in the panel box were only from Boyz II Men. Though you didn’t get to know his first name that day.

“What does it have to do with Mrs. Microft?” Jacob gave Mr. Morton an exasperated look. The question also made you frown until you pieced it together.

“That fucking bitch.” You slammed your fist on the table, shocking Janine and Gregory and making Jacob jump.

“Woah there, language, missy.” Barbara waved her hands towards you in an attempt to calm you down.

“Je brûlerai ses affaires, puis je la ferai regarder du deuxième étage.” I will burn her things down, then have her watch it from up on the second floor.

“And you tell me you aren’t French, french fry.” Melissa gave you a smirk, putting her chin on her hand and watching you flare up with anger.

Choosing to ignore Melissa’s teasing, you packed up your lunch without finishing it and stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” You asked Mr. Morton. In return, he gave you a shrug and went back to his phone. Letting out a scoff, you stomped towards the door to leave.

“Where are you going?” You heard Jacob shout as you grabbed the door handle.

“To burn her things down.” Then you left. Although you did try to close the door brusquely, the latch didn’t let you.

As you left, you didn’t notice Melissa’s gaze towards you turn from interest to pure adoration. But Barbara, knowing her friend, noticed everything. Yet she let Melissa turn to face her fully before giving the redhead a light kick on the shin. “What?” Melissa whispered.

“You like her.”

This made Melissa frown and give Barbara an incredulous look, then replied. “Given how she responded to the information that Mrs. Microft was ruining her things, I do like her.”

Shaking her head, Barbara gave Melissa a playful smile and leaned towards the redhead. “You like like her.”

Barbara’s sentence made Melissa shake her head frantically. “No! I just like her as a future friend.” But Melissa’s reply only made Barbara’s grin widen.

“That’s what she said.”

Protecting French Fry (2)

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #jacob hill #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter

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vhstown · 5 months

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gwen stacy ★ general headcanons

content/warnings: mentions of underage drinking, implied & mentions of death

a/n: hey 😁 a levels beating my arse. thx 2 @qiupachups 4 helping w these 🫡 give it up for gwendy ‼️ (unedited)

Gwen is a collector — but not of collectibles. She has a secret empire of the most random things, and is thoroughly embarrassed when anyone finds it: tickets, pins, soda can tabs, cool-looking clothing tags, mismatched hair clips, paper clips, little things stolen from school, etc. Anything she things is remotely interesting has a place in a very specifically organised box under her bed, tucked away from the world and taken out occasionally to be adjusted or stared at. It's essentially the same as being a collector, right...?

She had a fashion hobby she grew out of, but it re-kindles when she has to design a suit for herself. Initially, it's made up of thermal sportswear but she comes up with actual designs at some point, modifying it overtime to include the hood and to integrate it with her ballet slippers.

When it comes to art, Gwen's style would be a lot like a fashion student's. I headcanon her to have aphantasia so her main strength is drawing clothing, and a lot of her drawings are based on herself as a reference (she can literally only draw herself well...) Rather than a sketchbook, she has a journal that's also full of photographs and writing as well as her drawings, and the occasional crumpled up drum score.

Has a knack for sewing and customises some of her clothes, though it's more personal touches and the occasional crop rather than completely overhauling a piece of clothing. Everyday items of hers have at least a little embroidery or design on them and she likes doing patterns on like bags and converse for her friends. Wants to make plushies and things but always manages to get distracted so there's a bunch of unfinished projects in her closet. (I would totally buy from her on Etsy though 😁)

Gwen did ballet as a kid and developed the enraging habit of cracking EVERY joint in her body. She's the mf that twists in the chair in front of you and stares deep into your soul while cracking her back. Cracks things you don't even know you could crack without shame my girl is a whole instrument 😭

Ballet is something her dad pushed her towards, alongside music (though he preferred she did something more traditional). Initially Gwen did feel out of place in her classes. A lot of the other children at her classes were already well-versed in it, and a lot of times she found she wanted to quit. Only after learning that her mom Helen did ballet did she willingly pick it up again at an older age, incorporating the technique into her fighting style.

Gwen used to play a few different instruments as a kid but none of them really stuck. For a while, she thought she hated music when she did piano and the recorder, but when she got her hands on a drumkit at her school and a couple lessons, she knew it was the one.

Her drumming is definitely more freestyle, and even though she's good she has a lot of problems with her high energy, spontaneous and emotive style. That means she breaks her drumsticks ALL the time. There's no way she's banging all that out on the drums without an unfortunate snap or two, so she always keeps another pair handy. She's broken her drumsticks so much that there's a collection of them torn up at the bottom of her bag (she never bothers to throw them out, and might've given herself a splinter reaching in to find something 💀)

Speaking of drumsticks, she has one lucky pair she uses for important performances, carrying them practically everywhere. They've essentially rotted in their fancy little fabric case since she'd gottem them, the custom "GWENDOLYN MAXINE STACY" imprinted on it having almost completely eroded away.

Though, she's only ever used them once; her dad had bought them for her for a school performance, which she had to bail last minute when her Spider-sense suddenly activated. Running off to fight a villain not a street away, Peter Parker follows her, and he realises just who Spider-Woman really is.

While she was planning to use them at her prom performance with her band... that never happened. After that, everything reminded her of that night, and her relationship with The Mary Janes dwindled until she quit altogether. The band only lasted a few months prior, and since they never got to perform at prom, Gwen found herself playing for no reason at all, other than to get rid of her pent-up energy and forget about the fact that she's basically a wanted criminal.

When she's living in Hobie's universe, she ends up breaking her "lucky" drumsticks and is, understandably, a little shattered by it, but Hobie gets her another pair, "GWENDY" written in mismatched letters on the side. That "G" was definitely a last-minute addition, though. He also teaches her how to stop breaking them so often. "Bit of advice — use the wrists, not just the arms."

Gwen's definitely not meant to drink, so whenever Hobie goes to the pub he makes sure not to, suggesting his friends don't get pissed out of their minds either (though she might steal a sip of something fruity now and again.)

Hobie takes her to gigs all the time, and sometimes she drums for his ones. The first time she does it, she's nervous of course, but her sound immediately gets the crowd going and it's the talk of the town for a week straight (and her drumsticks didn't break!)

There's no shortage of junk food, of course. Just like all the takeout she'd have back at home, Hobie would make sure to take her around all the local spots. Although it's not exactly the same, anything beats the plasticky cafeteria food in 2099. Stopping for a kebab or two in the middle of anomaly-hunting isn't really against the rules anyway.

Gwen is friendly with pretty much everyone in the Spider-society because everyone knows who "Gwen Stacy" is, but she never really wants to meet another version of herself (given how unsettling it is with context). Also very awkward around any MJs — or Peters. Peter B essentially being an older 65!Peter definitely freaks her out a little at first.

Misses Miles, obviously, and probably had something she wanted to make for him back in her universe that she could never retrieve. Maybe when she gets Hobie's watch she'll bring it along with her — would Miles like a knitted neckwarmer?

SO best friends with Margo. Her tech lets Gwen see into her universe sometimes (Miguel wouldn't let her 😞) and Margo is super keen on learning about her universe. They both hang out with Peni and it's a fun little girl trio (Peni totally takes them to her universe to see all the giant mechs 😁 "Girls night!" BOOM!)

Number 1 girlfail. She hasn't broken those new drumsticks yet! But drumming can wait — and all those projects at the back of her closet, and her unresolved dispute with MJ and the band, and her dad at home. Going from her small world to having an entire multiverse against her and her friends, Gwen's got one hell of a show to put on, right?

“I never found the right band to join, so I started my own, with a few old friends.”

“You want in?”

🩰🕸️💫

@phoenixinthefiles (it's cause of you im always writing hcs 😭😭😭 /pos)

hi bunklies 😁 ive been averaging like 4h of sleep cuz of skl but ill fix up soon trust... hope you are all doing okay ! ive never written anything for gwen before so i hope this is an okay start lol

atsv masterlist here! reblogs always appreciated :) see u around <3

#gwen stacy #gwen stacy headcanons #spider gwen #gwendolyn stacy #earth 65 #spider woman #spiderverse #atsv headcanons #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #itsv #vhstown

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Deployment Diaries Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley talks to Mav, and it helps him see things a little clearer. And you know exactly how to make Bradley feel special on his birthday.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, fuff

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

The weekend trip to La Jolla had been one of your best ideas ever, if Bradley's opinion counted for anything. He kept thinking about how much fun the arcade had been and how good you looked playing skee-ball in your bathing suit. Plus, you and he had fucked almost nonstop all weekend long, to the point of exhaustion.

He had woken you up late on Sunday morning and told you it was almost time to check out of the hotel. You'd responded by riding his face until you came and then getting on all fours for him. When you finally checked out of the hotel, looking like two disheveled messes, the woman at the front desk just smirked.

You had both slept most of the afternoon at home on Sunday, only waking up in time to take Tramp for a nice long walk before dinner. Bradley and Tramp were perhaps a little too similar; the way they both looked forward to family walks was a bit ridiculous. Your laugh in response to he and Tramp both running to get the leash lit Bradley up from the inside.

On Monday afternoon, Bradley got flagged at work to test out the software update that your team had patched for the Super Hornet fleet. He got to take notes and attend a meeting which included you and a bunch of other engineers.

He was so good about keeping his hands to himself at work. He'd been a model citizen, really. Except for that one time in your office. And that other time in the storage closet in the tower. But that didn't prevent him from needing to adjust himself a bit when you gave a thirty minute presentation to everyone in attendance.

Bradley was trying his best to pay attention, but there were two problems. First of all, you were way smarter than him when it came to the technical stuff about his aircraft. He was trying his best to follow along, but you lost him a few times when it came to software calculations.

And second, he knew which bra and underwear set you were wearing under your uniform, because you had gotten dressed right next to him this morning. It was a light pink set that he was particularly fond of. He adjusted himself again. He couldn't wait to get home.

But that's when the trouble started. When he parked the Bronco in the driveway and walked up the porch steps, you were coming out the door with two huge shopping bags full of stuff. Your hair and makeup were done up and you were wearing a dress and heels.

"Where are you going, Sweetheart?" he asked, brow scrunched up.

You kissed him hurriedly on his cheek. "I need to go to Oceanside for a few hours. I'll be back in a little bit," you told him, rushing to your car and throwing the bags in the trunk. "You can have leftovers for dinner, or maybe see if Mav is around? Bye, Roo!"

Bradley was still standing on the porch steps as he watched you pull out of the driveway. What the hell was up in Oceanside? And why were you all dressed up?

Bradley found himself bored and lonely after about twenty minutes in the house. He changed and tried to watch a show with Tramp, but he ended up calling Maverick, who was still on base and agreed to swing by with a pizza.

"Where's the missus?" Mav asked when he arrived. "I got the toppings she likes. Assumed she would be here."

Bradley shrugged and made a face. "She ran to Oceanside for some kind of errand or something. I'm not sure." He grabbed two beers from the fridge and opened the pizza box on the island.

"Everything okay?" Maverick asked, accepting a beer.

"Yeah, I think so?" Bradley said before taking a bite of pizza, but it was more of a question than an answer.

Maverick hummed. "I know you said she had an incident with that guy while you were deployed and I was away with Penny. I wish I'd been here, Bradley. I really do."

"Nah, don't say that. You were on vacation! And things have been good since we talked. This past weekend was... it was great, actually," he said, thinking back to pouring champagne all over you and cuddling in bed with you while you giggled. Bradley tossed his half eaten slice of pizza onto his plate. "How do I know if it's too soon to propose?"

Maverick looked at him, completely gobsmacked. "I....well, Bradley, I don't know if you're asking the right person, actually. I've been on and off with Penny for decades."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair. "But you're serious with Penny now. You have been since Halloween. I just don't know how to do this shit correctly half the time. I never really dated anyone too seriously, I just messed around. And I never intended to fall in love, because it was so distressing to me as a kid, the way my mom was lonely for twelve years. But like how the fuck am I supposed to live like this?" Bradley held his hands up in the air before letting them drop back to his sides. "Part of me is terrified of marrying her and having kids with her, knowing I could burn in one day. Every time I think about that, I convince myself to wait a little longer. But the other part of me, the part that is obsessed with the way she makes me feel.... well, that part thinks we should get married tomorrow."

Maverick studied Bradley, took a sip of beer, and studied him some more. "I wish I could be of more help here, I really do. All I can tell you is that your dad was set on marrying your mom the same day he met her. He said those exact words to me. And they got married after six months together. Six months to the day, actually. And I have no doubt they would still be married now. So no, I don't think it's too soon for you. And if fear is what's holding you back, then you need to decide if you love her enough to trust that she's all in, no matter the outcome."

Bradley felt his eyes stinging. "Fuck. This is so hard, Mav. My mom would have loved her though, I know that much. And I can't run the risk of hesitating and losing her, but that's selfish when she's more likely to lose me. I just wish this was easier."

"Me too," Maverick replied. "It's not fair that Goose isn't here for this conversation. He would have known exactly what to say. But it sounds to me like you're ready, and she is too." Bradley let Maverick pull him in for a quick hug before they returned to the box of pizza.

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

"Where the fuck is mommy?" Bradley asked Tramp. He kept checking the time on his phone. It was nearing 11 o'clock, and Bradley was getting a little worried. When he had texted to make sure everything was okay, you simply replied with Yep!

He had also been looking up flights from San Diego to Norfolk and eating cold pizza. God, this house was just sad without you in it. Did you feel this way when he was deployed? Shit. If so, he was never going to leave again, because this was awful.

He channel surfed and fed pizza crust to Tramp, and about twenty minutes later, he finally heard your car in the driveway.

"She's home!" Bradley and Tramp both ran to the door to greet you. Your hair was a mess now, and you were wearing different clothes than when you left. "Where did you go, Baby Girl? We missed you."

You hugged him around his waist. "I just needed to take care of something. I'm sorry it took so long. Let's get ready for bed." And that's all you would say about it.

Bradley pushed it from his mind. He focused on work during the day and spending time with you at night. When he brought the mail inside on Friday evening, he opened a thick, cream colored envelope with his name on it. He smiled as he took it over to where you were currently making pancakes for dinner in your tight yoga pants and one of his shirts.

"Feel like buying a fancy dress, Baby Girl?"

"For what?" you asked, turning the music down on your phone.

Bradley held up the invitation to the ceremony and reception at which he would be promoted to lieutenant commander. "It's in four weeks, and I'm allowed to bring a date. Please don't make me take Tramp."

You laughed. "Tramp would look adorable in a little tuxedo! But I'm going. I'm definitely going! It's going to be fancy as hell! Better than a wedding! You lieutenant commanders and captains and admirals get all the good stuff."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your cheek. "You could just wear your dress whites like me, if you want to."

"No!" you shouted, scandalized. "Absolutely not, Roo! I'm buying something fancy! I can wear my uniform for my own promotion. Maybe I'll go shopping for a dress when I go back to Oceanside tomorrow morning."

Bradley frowned. "Why do you have to go back to Oceanside? I thought we were going to spend the day together."

"I'll be home in the afternoon," you told him, flipping over the pancakes. "We can do whatever you want. And then Sunday is your birthday!"

Bradley let go of you so you could plate the food. "Can I come with you in the morning? I can help you look at dresses."

You frowned. "I'd rather you didn't. I promise I'll be back right after lunchtime."

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

Trying to get out of the house on Saturday morning was made very difficult by Bradley who was actively trying to keep you in bed. "One orgasm isn't enough for my girl. Let me give you another one," he said in his raspy morning voice from where he had his head between your legs. You were still riding out the first one when he looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

You had told the photographer you would be there at 9:30, but thankfully the photographer was Maria's sister's roommate, and she would probably understand why you were running late if you showed her a photo of your boyfriend without a shirt on.

"Two would be nice," you told him as you tried to catch your breath, and he was immediately grinning and crawling up your body. He was too good at this now. You'd been having sex with him for more than nine months, and he could read you like a book. You wanted him slow and steady right now, and you knew you wouldn't have to tell him that. He would just do it, exactly how you wanted him to.

And that was how he got orgasm number two to come screaming out of you after twenty minutes of slow fucking and a little dirty talk.

Bradley looked pretty smug as he strode into the bathroom behind you on your wobbly legs. He kissed your neck while you brushed your teeth, and then you pulled your hair up as neatly as you could. "You definitely made me late," you informed his reflection in the mirror as you put on some lip gloss and mascara.

"Well, since you won't tell me where you're going, I don't feel bad about it. I also gave you a nice hickey right here, so I hope that's not going to be a problem," he said, running one beautiful finger along the side of your neck.

You turned your face to the side to check out the pink mark he had given you. "Naughty. Don't make me withhold birthday sex."

Bradley's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't."

You just smirked and walked back into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart! I'll be good the rest of the day!"

You ran your fingers along his abs and nodded. "I know you will be."

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

An hour later you were apologizing to the photographer, Flora, as she handed you Bradley's birthday present. You opened the calendar up to January and almost dropped it as you slammed it shut again.

"Oh, my God. I can't give this to him! I just... oh, my God!"

Flora just laughed softly and gently took the calendar from your hands as you shook your head. "I get that a lot with this kind of photoshoot. But I can guarantee your boyfriend is going to go bananas over this," she promised, tapping the calendar with one finger. "Here, start with September. You've got a good amount of clothing on in that one, and it's taken from behind."

You took a deep breath and looked at the glossy photo of yourself. In it, you were turning back to look over your shoulder. You were wearing a tiny black skirt and black stockings with seams up the backs of your legs. You had on red heels and one of Bradley's white dress shirts, pushed down to reveal your bare shoulders and upper back.

"Oh, that looks pretty good," you agreed. Then Flora flipped to April, and it was the photo of you wearing cutoff jean shorts with Bradley's aviators. You were covering your breasts with your hands.

"This one is great, because your smile is so genuine," she told you.

"I was almost laughing in it, because he had no idea I took his sunglasses with me."

Flora flipped through the entire pin-up calendar with you. You saw the photo of you wearing the red bustier and matching thong that Bradley favored. There was also one of you on your knees with your hands on your thighs, pulling up the hem of your white nightie. One of you in your own flight suit had made it in there, and so had one with garters, stocking and lots of lace.

Then there was one of you laying on the bed with your back arched. It looked a lot like the photo you had sent to him that one time you and he were out to dinner with the other aviators. That evening had resulted in back seat Bronco sex, so perhaps you didn't have anything to be scared about.

The photo for next June was perhaps the most intimate one. Your hair was purposefully messy, and you were completely nude, tangled up in a sheet with your left breast just peaking out. And your golden necklace charms were visible in almost all of the shots.

"Okay, I think you're right. I think he'll like it." Flora just laughed as you added, "You did a great job, honestly. You can barely see the cellulite!"

"Oh stop, I hardly had to do any touch ups. Some of them just needed a little color saturation. I'll tell you what, if your man doesn't lose his mind, come back and I'll give you a refund."

So with that, you took the calendar to your car and went to find a formal gown.

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

As soon as you got home, Bradley was snooping in the garment bag. "What does your dress look like? Are you going to try it on for me?"

"Maybe," you replied with a wink. But you did try it on for him, and he stood in front of you speechless, rubbing his chin.

"Shit," he rasped.

You looked down at yourself and back up at him. The form fitting, dark blue satin dress was insanely formal for most things, but it seemed perfect for his big day. Plus you figured he would appreciate the slit up your left leg and the low cut front. "Do you like it?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "You look amazing. I can't believe I get to have you there with me." He started reaching for you, but you backed away.

"This dress is delicate, Bradshaw! Delicate!"

"I can be delicate," he whispered, running his fingers along the enticing fabric as you started to undress.

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. "I'm saying your birthday weekend starts right now. So what do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

He helped you out of your dress as he told you, "Have sex with my girlfriend, walk our adorable dog to the ice cream place that gives out doggie treats, eat dinner, and have sex with my girlfriend again."

"You're going to give me more orgasms today? Is it your birthday or mine?"

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

Bradley couldn't believe he deserved you in his life. That perfect weekend away with you in La Jolla had been enough for him. More than enough, really. But here you were, on his actual birthday, waking him up with a blowjob. He felt your wet, hot mouth on his length, and he opened his eyes to the most glorious sight.

"Oh, hey," he rasped, smiling at you as he propped himself up on his elbows.

You popped him out of your mouth, kissed his tip and said, "Happy birthday, Roo," in your sweet voice before sliding him between your pretty lips again. He watched your tits swaying, just getting harder and harder for you. He was aching in your hands and mouth as you sucked and licked him so well.

When he was almost there, you opened your mouth wide and set him down on your plush tongue. He watched himself paint your mouth with his cum while you gently squeezed his balls in your soft hand.

"Shit, sweetheart. You look so pretty like that," he told you, caressing your cheek. He really wanted to take a picture of you with his dick in your mouth and his cum everywhere, but he didn't know how to ask you for that.

Bradley watched you swallow him down and lick your lips. Then you crawled up his body and kissed him. "I'm going to make you breakfast, birthday boy."

Bradley followed you into the kitchen and watched you put on your I Love Meat apron over your naked body. He stood behind you as you cut up vegetables and cracked eggs into a bowl, squeezing your bare ass and kissing your shoulders.

"This is already the best birthday I have ever had," he mumbled against your skin. He so badly wanted to be selfish. Marry you and be with you forever. The deployments sucked, but if that was the worst thing you had to deal with, you'd both manage. He couldn't control anything beyond that.

"I love you, Roo," you told him, turning your head to kiss him briefly while you made him an omelet. That was it, he would buy a ticket to Norfolk tomorrow.

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

You took Bradley on a lunchtime hike and picnic that ended at the cliffside beach where you and he had played dogfight football so many months before. You ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and laid out on your beach towel, and Bradley tried to convince you to take a week off this year and take a vacation with him. In theory that sounded great, but work was going so well for you right now, it would be hard to take any time off.

After baking in the sun for a while, Bradley said, "It's fucking hot out now. Feel like jumping in the water to cool off?"

"In our clothes?" you asked, but he was already taking his tee shirt off and pulling his shorts down.

"In our underwear, Baby Girl."

You glanced around the beach, which wasn't crowded at all. You bit your lip before unbuttoning your jean shorts and sliding them down over your hips. The smile on your boyfriend's face was instantaneous. You glanced around again before pulling your tank top off and leaving it on the towel. You hoped your blue sports bra and green underwear were providing enough coverage for that old guy walking his dog to refrain from yelling at you.

Bradley pulled you to your feet and you ran into the water with him. "It's cold!" you complained, but he had already scooped you up into his arms. You clung on to the front of him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. "Oh my God, don't go out any further! It's freezing!" But Bradley walked out until the waves were crashing against your back. "Bradley!"

He just chuckled and kissed you. "We'll get used to it."

You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him back. His hands splayed along your back, keeping you warm against the onslaught of the Pacific Ocean. You thought about how many millions of times you must have kissed him since that first time in this beach parking lot. Thought about everything that had happened since that day. Falling in love, and almost losing him, and Tramp, and Josh, and how much you loved Bradley.

"I love you," you whispered against his mouth as he devoured you. "I love you so much."

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

It took a bit of coaxing, but you finally agreed to let Bradley carry you up the rocks for old time's sake, even though you were wearing perfectly sensible shoes this time. Bradley listened to your laughter as he climbed with you on his back. Your wet underwear had soaked through your clothing, and so had his. You were both a sandy, sweaty mess by the time you got home.

Wordlessly, you led him to the master bathroom and turned on the shower. Tramp came to investigate what was going on as you peeled Bradley's damp shirt off and let it fall to the floor. The fabric was replaced by your hands and lips on his chest and abs, and Bradley's head tipped back. Your hands were gritty with sand as they worked down to his shorts, and the sensation had him panting for you. Soon he was naked and you were stroking him.

"Baby Girl," he whispered, and you looked up at him expectantly. He kissed you hard, both of his hands in your messy hair, his front pressed to yours. He lived for these moments. Everything with you was so pure, it was almost painful. "You're mine, Baby Girl," he told you, and you moaned.

Bradley ripped your clothing off, tossing it across the room and scaring Tramp back into the bedroom. You both stumbled into the steamy shower, hands and mouths everywhere. He had you pinned against the tile wall, one hand wrapped around your neck, the other thrusting two fingers into your pussy until you were soaking wet for him. The steam swirled around your bodies, and the little noises you made were echoing inside the glass shower.

Then he thrust his cock into you, running his thumb up and down along the side of your neck. He could feel your shallow breaths and gasps as he sped up. When you wrapped your leg up around his hip and whispered his name, he was too close to the edge. He pulled out of your pussy and sprayed your belly and hips with his cum before dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Mmm," you moaned when his mouth met your clit and you started grinding against his face. He worked his tongue, steadily getting you there as his cum mixed with the water from the shower and trailed down your body. You were his birthday present. He wanted the same present every year for the rest of his life.

You were still leaning against the wall catching your breath when Bradley got the soap and started to wash your body. You let him do your hair too, because now you were exhausted from all of the day's activities, and you still had to make his dinner.

A few hours later, you were perched on Bradley's lap eating Marry Me Rooster and listening to some music. "Thank you," he whispered, and it struck you once again that probably nobody ever did anything special, just for him, from the time his mom died until he met you. It made you want to keep doing it and doing it.

You checked the time on your phone as Bradley happily twirled his second serving of chicken and pasta into his fork. "I hope you're almost ready for dessert," you told him and he just grinned at you.

"Oh, I know what that means." But then he jumped a bit when someone started pounding on the front door.

The smile on your face gave you away. "What did you do?" he asked, but you just laughed and told him to go open the front door.

"Holy shit," Bradley said, as Phoenix thrust a dozen balloons into his hands and made her way inside. She was followed by Fanboy, Payback, Bob, Hangman, Maverick and Penny. Coyote was missing, as he was currently deployed, but everyone else greeted Bradley while you put a pie and a chocolate chip cookie tower on the dining room table. Penny popped a few bottles of champagne, and everyone started eating dessert.

When you stuck a glittery pink candle into the top cookie and everyone sang happy birthday to him, Bradley pulled you against his side. And when Fanboy told him to make a wish, Bradley grinned at you before blowing the candle out.

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

After everyone finally left, it was pretty late. Tramp was already in his bed, exhausted from all of the attention he got. Bradley had watched Nat feed him four treats in a row, and when he said something about it, she told him, "Mind your own business, birthday boy. This is between me and my god-pup."

So by the time Bradley noticed you shifting nervously around the kitchen, cleaning up after everyone, he had already had an epically wonderful day.

"Leave it, Sweetheart. I'll clean in the morning before work," he told you, gently taking your hands in his. "Now tell me why you're being weird."

You sighed. "I got you a birthday present. It's in my dresser drawer." you said, staring at his chest.

"That was nice of you. Can I have it?"

"Yeah...." you trailed off, heading for the bedroom and rooting around in your drawer. "But I'm really nervous to give this to you, so please be kind." You thrust a wrapped box into his hand and backed away a few steps, chewing on your lip.

Bradley started to unwrap and open the box, brow furrowed about what could be making you apprehensive. But then he dropped the wrapping paper and box to the floor as he read the front of the calendar in his hands.

Rooster's Calendar starring Baby Girl

"No fucking way," he whispered, meeting your guarded eyes before flipping it open to January. He almost fell over. "Oh my God," he almost yelled, briefly waking up Tramp.

There was a high quality photo of you wearing a sheer champagne colored lingerie set, and you were laying on your back with your legs up in the air. You had on your bright red high heels with your ankles crossed and you looked like a fucking dream, your tits practically spilling out of the sheer top.

Bradley's jaw was hanging open as he flipped to February. He didn't know how things could have possibly improved, but somehow they did. You were wearing his favorite color, the red bustier and thong. "Shit, Baby Girl," he whined. His dick was plainly hard in his jeans, and he was gasping for air, but you looked nervous as hell now.

"Do you like it?" you asked softly, eyes wide, chewing on your thumbnail.

He just stared at you with his mouth open, blinking, trying to formulate words. He glanced down briefly at March to see you in a black string bikini he had no idea you owned. You looked sinfully good, and now Bradley was throbbing.

"Don't look at that one. You can see my love handles," you told him, reaching for the calendar, but he held it up high, out of your reach. Then he tossed it softly onto the dresser and grabbed you.

"Don't talk about my future wife that way," he growled, baking you up to the bed. "She's perfect." He reached down and yanked your shirt off and then your bra. "That calendar is the fucking hottest thing in the world, and I only saw three months," he groaned, grinding against you. "It's safe to say, yes, I like it."

You moaned as he touched you. "You said you wanted it."

"Yeah, I did. Thank you, Sweetheart," he whispered against your neck, placing kiss after kiss there as he worked his hand down to the front of your shorts. "Best gift ever."

"How are you going to thank me for this wonderful idea?" you asked, running your fingertips along his scarred cheek.

Bradley pushed you down on the bed, and you rolled over onto your belly to make room for him. He eased himself onto the bed and straddled your ass, rubbing his hands down the smooth planes of your naked back, making you arch your spine. You moaned and ground your ass up into his dick and balls. He was picturing your nipples straining against lacy fabric, and he was so hard he thought he might explode. And here you were writhing and moaning under him after a few touches.

"I'm going to thank you like this," he told you, grabbing you by both hips and popping your rear end up into the air. He pulled your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them aside, and he ran his finger over your thong before removing that as well. He kissed along your ass cheeks and listened to you moan as he palmed you with his hands. He eased his face down to your pussy and gave you a nice long lick, collecting your sweetness on his tongue.

"I love it when you do that," you huffed between groaning and whining his name, face buried in a pillow.

He teased your clit and ran his fingers through your soaking wet slit, pumping them into your pussy a few times until you were thrusting back again. Then he let his fingers trail up a bit further until he was gently caressing your other hole.

"Oh!" you gasped and froze.

Bradley placed a soft kiss on your thigh and then one on your lower back. "Is this okay?" he asked, and he stopped moving his hand until he heard you gasp out an answer.

"Yes, I think so."

Bradley groaned as he let his fingers trail along once more, the moisture from your pussy making everything look slick and even prettier. "Can I lick you here?"

"Okay," you whispered, and Bradley ran his tongue back and forth across your asshole a few times, fisting his cock in his hand. He'd never done this before, and it sounded like you hadn't either.

"Do you like this, Baby Girl?" he asked before pressing a little harder with his tongue, licking up all of your essence that he had brought there with his fingers. You were wiggling your ass a little bit for him as he placed another kiss there.

"I don't hate it. God, your mustache feels good everywhere. I think it made my pussy even wetter for you, Roo," you gasped, and Bradley was immediately in position, thrusting his dick into your warm pussy. He could feel your walls gripping him almost immediately. Everything felt too good. You turned him on beyond belief.

And when you were both ready for bed, and you had yourself draped across his body, you whispered, "I love you, birthday boy."

You yawned as he wrapped his arms around you. "Can I have this same day every year for my birthday? Just like this, me and you?"

"Absolutely, Roo," you muttered, snuggling against him and dozing off to sleep.

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

Happy birthday, Roo! SO MANY OF YOU ASKED FOR BUTT STUFF, SO HERE IS A BIT OF THAT FOR YOU! Thanks for reading!

PART 17

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spiderlandry · 10 months

Text

Yes, Chef — ethan landry

Description: The most loving thing one could do is cook for someone else. Ethan finds out it’s your love language.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Warnings: implication that reader is shorter than ethan, no ghostface, amber was reader’s ex but it’s only a small mention, lmk if there’s any warnings i should add !! there may be some errors since i only edited this once

Word Count: 3k

Author’s note: i wrote with a poc reader in mind, and much of reader’s experience with cooking is based off my own

Chad is starting to get worried. Exams are in a month, and even though everyone he knows is working hard to prepare, it’s like Ethan is studying as if exams are next week. Chad thinks he can even hear his roommate talking in his sleep sometimes.

He wakes up to Ethan being up at the crack of dawn, a large cup of coffee in hand and deeper bags under his eyes than yesterday.

So, yeah, it’s concerning.

He already tried to coax him into taking more care of himself, but Ethan waves it off. He’s tried other things: getting Sam to scold him, try to get him to go out and party so he’ll get tired, having Quinn threaten him.

If nothing happens, he may resort to putting sleeping pills in Ethan’s coffee.

However, there is one more thing.

You.

Ever since Ethan was introduced to the rest of his friends which included you, he’d been paying more attention to his appearance and how he’s perceived. At first Chad thought he might’ve had a crush on Tara, but Ethan slipped up one time when he not very casually asked if you were going to a group hangout, a few weeks ago.

Chad can use that knowledge to his advantage, he realizes.

Knowing you since freshman year of high-school, you’re a naturally caring person, though can be quiet or a little closed off especially since the Woodsboro murders in which you discovered that your ex-girlfriend was one of the killers.

Your gentle nature, along with his crush, can surely save Ethan from burning himself out so much that he’ll show up to finals only a skeleton, right? Hopefully.

Chad prays he’s right as he sends you a text, Friday evening.

Chad

Hey, can I ask a favor

depends

Might be a little weird but u know how ethan has been studying rly hard?

yeah u said u were worried. is he ok?

Yeah he’s fine mostly. Im just worried so Im asking if you can

Ask him to hang out or something

? why

not that i would mind but why

Youre the one he would say yes to I already tried other stuff to get him to relax but man looks like hes about to pass out

Idk I have a feeling its more than about school but its not my place and I think he would open up to u

You know he has a crush on u right

i dont believe u but ill do it

Bro dont even act like u dont like him too

shut up

You roll your eyes at your phone, already coming up with a plan for a way to get Ethan to chill out. That’s when you think of it.

Ethan allows himself to sleep in during the weekends. But when he wakes up at 11 AM to a text from you that was sent at six, he immediately regrets it.

He opens his phone to read it.

hey i have this new recipe i wanna try but i need a second opinion

wanna come over after work? i get off at 5

He rubs his eyes, making sure he’s reading it right. You? Inviting him? To come over to your place alone?

He’s not proud of the way he gapes at the message for a long moment before he can answer, responding with a ‘sure!’ despite the word not conveying his excitement mixed with the worry at the pit of his stomach. Why are you inviting him alone? He can’t let himself think that it’s anything other than friendliness, right? But you only invited him, so it must mean something.

He rushes to his closet to pick out his outfit, already forgetting about the unfinished page of notes on his desk.

Ethan has known you for a good few months, since the beginning of the school year. But at this point, he’s memorized your smile and your voice, becoming less subtle as time goes on. He pays attention to every single thing you’ve said about yourself, including but not limited to how you almost went to culinary school. He remembers how you once baked a cake for Tara’s birthday, not only the batter from scratch but also the buttercream frosting. He smiles at the memory of you showing the group how to make pasta one night.

To say he’s excited is an understatement.

He doesn’t even bother getting his coffee this time so his breath doesn’t smell like it.

Chad notices that Ethan’s usual cup is still in the cupboard, mentally patting himself on the back for getting the idea to reach out to you.

It’s not long until it’s almost five, and Ethan is walking the few blocks over to your apartment, enjoying the wind. He knows not to show up empty handed, so he stops at a bodega to buy your favourite chips.

You‘d gotten home a little early due to your workplace not being too busy, thankfully. You start prep, laying out the ingredients. The knock from your door reaches your ears a few minutes later, and knowing it’s Ethan you open the door.

You’re greeted with a bag of chips to your face, taking it and seeing Ethan have a slight upturn at the corner of his lips. You mirror his expression, albeit with a wider smile (you can’t help it), letting him into your apartment. He sits down at the breakfast bar facing into the kitchen, while you stand on the other side facing him.

This isn’t the first time he’s been here, but it is the first time he’s here alone. With you. He tried to get rid of the images in his head of him being over at your place every day because you want him to be there. He can’t think like that, not now when you’re beaming up at him while you showcase the ingredients on the kitchen counter, your sentences going into one ear and out the other.

“…Ethan?” Your brows are furrowed, not knowing if he’s paying attention. You quickly catch that he’s not—he has to think for a moment about what to say.

“Uhm—“ he clears his throat. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What?” He mentally cringes at himself. He’s sure you’d think he’s not interested and oh god, what if you think he doesn’t want to be there?

You laugh lightly. “I said do you like steak? I mean, I probably should’ve asked, but—“ You’re glad he stops your ramble before it goes any further.

“I like it, don’t—don’t worry.”

“Okay, good. Because this would’ve been awkward.”

Ethan is determined not to let any weird silences happen, so he continues despite not knowing what to say. His curiosity gets the best of him. “Not that I don’t want to, but why did you invite me here? I mean…just me.”

You try to brush it off, coming up with an excuse. “I invited Tara, but she couldn’t make it.” You turn back to the ingredients to get started.

He’s glad you’re not facing him to see his shoulders practically deflate finding out that he’s not the first choice. He’s not sure why he got his hopes up so much.

Before he can say anything else, you interrupt his train of thought. “Wanna help?”

He stands up quickly, eager. “What do you need?”

Truthfully, you’d made this dish a thousand times before that you could do it in your sleep. You’re not about to try anything new when your main objective is to take Ethan’s mind off things.

“How are you with knives?” You ask, taking out a chef’s knife from the knife holder. His eyes widen, begrudgingly taking the object from your hand.

“This is gonna sound—nevermind,” He shakes his head.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve never had to…cook before.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “That’s fine. Do you not want the knife?”

“I do! I just—how do I use it?”

You smile, an image he wishes was burned into his mind. You slide the cutting board toward you, putting a handful of asparagus in the middle.

Ethan can’t help but stare at your hand at the way you delicately go through the motions of cutting, slowly to make sure he sees it. You show him how to trim the asparagus, and you give him back the knife to try.

A spark tingles throughout his hand when you put yours on it to guide him.

“Just trim all of these. Got it?”

He nods.

You prepare the steak on a separate cutting board alongside him.

“Can I ask why you’ve been studying so hard, E?”

The nickname isn’t lost on him, but he tries his best to ignore it before he accidentally cuts himself.

“Finals next month,” He says curtly.

“Is that the truth?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me. But I’m not trying to force you.”

He pauses. “Can we change the topic?”

You nod, “You pick. Turns out I’m terrible at conversation. Can you fill up a pot of water for the mini potatoes? And put some salt in it.”

“How long have you been cooking?” He puts the asparagus in the bowl they were previously in and doing as you say. With the way he gets the question out so fast, you’d think he’d been thinking about it.

“As a kid, I was around a lot of people who knew how to cook,” you begin while you prepare a pan on the stove, melting the butter. “I learned from them. International dishes, mainly. Lots of spices. But I moved to New York and started working in a kitchen when I was sixteen, so I learned about some European pastries and white people food.” You chuckle.

There’s something with the way you talk about food that makes his chest warm. It’s unfamiliar, but a welcome feeling nonetheless. It’s different from how you talk about other things—this one feels more intimate.

You continue. “I think you know, but I almost went to culinary school.”

He does know. He wonders why you didn’t go.

“I took cooking classes as an elective at my high-school. I was lucky they offered that. Senior year, I was a stage for some really pretentious restaurants—y’know, mainly as a server, but I got to know how the kitchen worked.”

He hasn’t even noticed that the butter is almost all melted on the pan and you’ve put some rosemary and thyme on it until you pause to turn to him.

You grab the cutting board with the steak on it, placing it next to the stove.

“They were the kinds of places that served small portions for high prices.” You stared at the stove, turning up the heat.

“Why didn’t you go to culinary school?” He timidly asks.

“The people,” You say it so quietly at first that he almost missed it. “I met people who made the kitchen pretty much unbearable. There was shouting…lots of it, actually. The crazy high standards. They didn’t shout at me, but seeing it from the sidelines was worse…somehow? I don’t know.”

He finds himself wanting to have a stern word with whoever made you feel that way about something you so clearly love.

He’s about to ask another question before you interrupt him.

You pick up the steak from the board, motioning for him to come closer. “Always lay away from you,” you say. “Otherwise you splash oil on yourself, ‘kay?”

He nods. He continues with his question. “Do you regret it?”

He doesn’t realize how heavy of a question it is until after he says it, and he’s going to retract his statement but you respond.

“No, actually, I don’t.”

There’s a sweetness in your voice that’s hard to catch, but for Ethan’s ears, it’s as if they’ve been attuned to your tone.

“If I went to culinary school, I would’ve started to hate it—“ You grab the tongs, using it to push the sides of the steak to the pan, “—That’s searing. You seal in the juices when the surface browns, see that?—“

When he nods, you proceed.

“I grew up believing that cooking was a way to care about people, you know? Like a love language. And If I made cooking my career, that’s not what it would be for me. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, yeah. It does.”

Once all the sides are seared, you grab a spoon and you slightly tilt the pan, using the utensil to coat the steak in the melted butter. “That’s basting. So it doesn’t lose moisture. Every time you flip a steak, it loses moisture, so just do it once.”

He thinks he’s getting repetitive when he nods once more to show that he’s actually listening.

It’s not long until the steak is done, and he’s excited to get it on the plate but instead, you put it on a baking sheet and cover it in tin foil.

“You’re next.”

His head snaps up toward you, sputtering, “What?”

“Do you want to learn?”

“Yeah—“

“Then get to work.” You smirk, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t awaken something in him. You point to the other steak in the packaging.

He tries to remember the steps you did, but you do have to remind him what to do occasionally.

You’re standing close to him, almost hovering, but he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, he almost leans in instinctively when you bring your hand up to his face and pushes his curls out of his face.

“You’re doing good,” you whisper.

It takes everything inside him not to collapse right there. He’d give everything to feel your hand on his face again.

You’ve set two plates on the counter. The mini potatoes were boiled nicely, and you cut them swiftly in half (a feast for Ethan’s eyes). Ethan watches while you quietly as you carefully plate the food, and he can’t help but look around him. The used pan, the knives, cutting boards, you plating the food—there’s an element of domesticity.

It’s in the way you flash a smile directed at him and only him, in the comfort of your own home, after you’ve just cooked together. He imagines a future where it’s like this every night.

You open the fridge, grabbing out two sodas. As you turn around Ethan is surprisingly close to you.

Only a few inches away.

He slowly takes the cans from you, setting it on the space next to him. All as if he’s about to wake a sleeping dragon if he were to move too quickly.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks, almost in a pleading whisper. His eyes are boring into yours, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“I told you.” Your tone mirrors his. “Cooking is a way to take care of someone, and I care about you.”

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do the next thing.

He brings himself closer to you, not breaking the eye contact.

Suddenly, everything makes itself known. Your breathing, shallower than his, anticipating his next move. The way your clothes touch. The cold air coming from the fridge.

He brings his hand to touch your jaw, it’s a feather-like sensation as his digits make contact with your skin. “Is this okay?”

You gulp and nod, unable to find the words.

“Need to hear you say it.”

In the lowest whisper, “Yes.”

He lifts your chin, tilting his head.

It’s a tiny pause until you’re the one taking the leap, closing the small distance and slotting your lips against his.

Everything falls away, and nothing else matters. His lips are soft. You feel his large hands go to your neck and you wrap your arms around his torso, trying to get impossibly closer.

You’re the first to pull away and you grin when he chases your lips.

“Hi,” You beam. “W—what was that for?”

“You tell me,” he smiles.

You anticipate the night to end when you’re both finished the food and the drinks, and you’ve cleaned up the kitchen.

But neither of you want it to end.

You cross your arms, facing Ethan who’s reluctantly about to open the door.

“Wanna stay?”

He turns around, tilting his head like a cute puppy. “Thought you’d never ask.”

That’s how you found yourselves cuddling on the couch, a new show on your television.

“I have to tell you something,” you whisper, eyes still on the screen.

“Hm?”

“Chad told me to ask you to hang out.” You grimace. “And before you say anything, I didn’t invite you just because of him. I was worried about you too.” You look up at him, the proximity comfortable rather than awkward.

“I figured.”

“Really?”

His arm tightens around you. “When you asked me why I was studying so hard, I remembered Chad’s been trying to get me out of it. This was his last resort.”

You snort, “His last resort was putting sleeping pills in your coffee.”

“I’m…gonna have to talk to him about that.”

“Can I ask why you’re studying?”

“To distract myself.”

You almost sit up. “From what?”

“Not tonight.” He lays your head against him again, and your trust is in his hands. “Someday.”

And someday, he’ll tell the story about how the week before, he realized he loved you. It scared him so much that it kept him up for days, but the night you kissed would be the day his worries all went away.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #scream 6 x reader #scream x reader #scream #scream vi #scream 6

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thisismeracing · 5 months

Text

To build a home | MS47 (patreon exclusive)

Read the full piece here

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x hamilton!reader ― Warning: mentions of Christmas celebrations. (1.5k words) ― Summary: Mick and Yn are used to sharing everything, and always spending time with each other. However, they didn’t notice that things got easier because they ended up pilling some things in one house. His place is theirs now, but the same happened with her place. It only takes their respective siblings one look to figure out the whole situation. Will it scare them, or will they finally move in together? ― A/n: This piece can be read as a stand-alone, or part of the King of My Heart series (here). It was also based on this ask sent by my Coffee emoji anon on Tumblr, who gave me permission to work on the thot and bring it into a full piece <3 Thank you for the support and for proofreading it too, C! *mwah* I hope you guys like it!

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

“Did you see my white sneakers when you walked through the entrance?” Mick asked, raking his fingers through his blonde hair, already feeling the stress taking over. He wasn’t the biggest fan of packing, even though it was something he had to do numerous times in his line of work. He tended to have everything sorted, and whenever it was time he would just throw everything inside the luggage and get going.

“Nein, isn’t it somewhere in your closet?” his sister asked, watching the blonde walk inside the closet again.

“It’s not,” his voice carried from the room while he walked back to his sister, a stressful curve between his eyebrows.

“When was the last time you wore it?”

Mick sighs, throwing his body beside Gina’s on his mattress, the bed dipping with his weight.

“I wore them last Saturday…then on Monday on the trip back home”

“Didn’t you forget between Yn’s things? You came home together, right?”

Mick bites his lips when a wave of realization hits him, shaking his head, “I…mhm…I left them at her place.”

“You didn’t forget?”

“Nah, I left them there.”

**********

“Ugh, I’m pretty sure I left it on the sink,” Yn sighs, going through bottles of hair products while Lewis watches from the door. He was helping her pack for Christmas at the Schumachers, everyone was going, including their parents, and Roscoe who was already there with the oldest Hamiltons and Corinna. Lewis had some things to finish with Merc and Yn had work to do, so they agreed on flying together, which he knew meant also packing together since Yn would get easily distracted and forget to do so.

“It’s no biggie, I have mine at home, I just wanted to get this one braid sorted because it’s too loose,” Lewis tries.

“Nah, but I always have my curls and braids stuff there, Lew…Last week I even rebraided these two pieces and…—oh–”

“What?”

“I left the lil hair bag at Mick’s house.”

“What do you mean you left it there? Like, you accidentally forgot there?”

Yn bites her lips, “I’m there most of the time, so I just left it there, you know?”

Lewis watches attentively as his sister walks back to the closet staring at her clothes as if they were going to pack on their own.

“Did you pack your satin pillowcase?”

“Yeah, Mick is taking it, I have some at his apartment. I’m putting the ones that are here through the wash,” she explains simply, starting to fold a coat.

“You have one at his place?”

“Yeah, he bought some when we started dating, it’s easier when we don’t have to keep moving those everyday things, you know?”

The oldest Hamilton was at a loss for words for a few seconds. It was so obvious, yet his sister seemed unaware. In her defense, however, the couple were now over a year into their relationship, and to deal with the distance they had to make do with each small gap of time together, it seemed to be more work for Mick and Yn to keep packing an overnight bag or something of the sorts whenever they wanted to be together. It was just easier to have their things shared between houses.

“So you’ve kind of moved in together?” he wants to be less direct with his questions, but this is all Lewis can muster, and it makes Yn stop in her tracks, brows drawing together in confusion.

“No?”

Lewis chuckles, it’s not a funny situation per se, he’s more nervous with his own realization that his sister is old enough not only to date, but now she’s old enough to share an apartment with a guy, which means soon enough she’ll probably get married, and have kids, and…his baby sister!

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#mick schumacher #op: patreon pieces #op: patreon exclusive #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x hamilton!reader #komh #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #ms47 #f1 fandom #f1 fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfic #millie writes

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meowonwoos · 2 years

Text

what’s mine is yours

pairing: seungcheol x reader(no pronouns used but it is mentioned reader is smaller than cheol)

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 642

summary: seungcheol leaves his clothes everywhere so you start wearing them

a/n: short but sweet imo hehe i hope u like it!!! just in time for them to mention cheol leaving his stuff everywhere on gose LOL

seungcheol had a habit of leaving his clothes everywhere. whether it be a hoodie, a hat, or a pair of sunglasses, there were pieces of him left around every single place he went to, including your apartment. and your car. sometimes your bag. you’d even find his watch in your pocket from time to time because he trusted you with it more than anyone else.

it was cute at first, realizing the bright orange object in your backseat was one of his beanies. it was like a little surprise whenever an item of his would pop up out of nowhere, a reminder of the love you two shared, you liked to think. but then you kept finding things, and you eventually grew a bit tired of his habit. it didn’t help that he’d never take his stuff home whenever he’d visit you, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you did wish the pile growing in the corner of your room would go away at some point. back to seungcheol’s place, where they truly belonged. you’d try to remind him about it every time you saw him but of course he never remembered, so naturally everything he left became a part of your closet as well.

the first time he saw you wearing one of his clothing items it was one of his bucket hats, a cheeky smile appearing on your face when you got in his car and he asked where you got it from.

“i saw it on the couch before i left! doesn’t it match my outfit?” you beamed at him. seungcheol just chuckled and nodded, saying it looked nice on you.

the following day you wore one of his hoodies to your little breakfast date together, your explanation being that it was cold and his sweater was thicker than any of the ones you owned. the day after that you walked out in one of his favorite jackets, practically drowning in the piece of clothing because of how oversized it was.

he didn’t mind you wearing his clothes– in fact, he loved seeing you in his clothes and honestly thought it was the cutest thing ever. you were significantly smaller than him, and he adored the way his hats fit on you or how you made little sweater paws with the sleeves of his cardigans, waving them around as you talked to him about your day.

but right now you were perched on his lap with your back against him, seated perfectly on top of his growing erection, and all he wanted was to do was peel his stupid graphic tee off of your body.

he could tell you were up to something ever since he arrived at your apartment, reaching for plates on the top shelves, clinging onto his arm, peppering kisses on the back of his neck as you hugged him from behind. everything about your behavior today just screamed horny, but he wanted to make the most of your quality time together before your work schedules got busy.

“stop it, y/n.” he whined, nudging you a little.

“what? is something wrong, baby?” you pretended to stay focused on the round of mario kart you two were playing, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. you could hear the deep breath he let out in an attempt to restrain himself and it just made you want to play around with him even more, rocking your hips back and forth until you felt him completely hardened underneath you.

seungcheol quickly caught on and decided that he had enough, throwing his controller to the side to grip your hips tightly and whisper in your ear.

“stop teasing me or i’ll fuck you into this couch so hard, you’ll go dumb.”

you just grinned, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

“can i at least pause the game?”

#seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #scoups fluff #scoups smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups #seungcheol #honey's fics #what's mine is yours

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aphroditness · 5 months

Note

OMG UR WRITING FOR MONKIE KID NOW?!!?!!!!?11/1//1/ AAAA IVE ALWAYS WONDERED WHAT UR FANFICS WOULD BE LIKE WITH THE FANDOMM

Could I like.. request a fic where Wukong and Macaque both have a really strong crush on Model F!y/n and they're always arguing with eachother/fighting for her? but she's already getting so many love confessions so they both dont have the guts to tell her. Thank youu!!

YESSS I AMM </33 And omg I love the fandom sm bro im already obsessed. And no, we are not gonna talk abt how Im in love with both wukong and macaque.. im not a furry I swear..

I will be making this a series since I have no originality, consider this part one ;)

There are ships included like Shadowpeach and Chimera (but mostly Dragonfruit.)

Reader is in her early 20's

Some parts of the story may shift from different pov's, aka; point of view(s). Being first, second and third person.

Reader is a closeted bisexual/biquestioning so if you cant handle that then I politely advise you to close this fanfic.

♡

You were new to megapolis, reason; your modelling career being there, but mostly because you wanted to try something new, and since you had family who lived in megapolis, why not give it a go? You were sad to be leaving your parents and your friends from back home, but they respected your decision overall.

It was early morning. You found an apartment close by a restaurant that your mother loved, Pigsy's noodles. Although you've never tried them before, you always took your mama's word for it. But you had to unpack your bags first. The food would have to wait. Your luggage's were overflowing with clothes, makeup, decorations, video games, posters.. and so. many. magazines. It took about 3 hours to zip open all of them, arrange, and sweep the apartment floors so you could be ready to go. By the time you checked your phone it was 10:37 AM and you needed to get your outfit on. You only had a week off until you had to meet up with your supervisor.

You got ready and took out your heatless curls before you brushed the last of your silky hair. Again, checking the time it was 12:00 PM. A perfect time to go out and finally check out the place you've always been dying to go to. Funny, right? How you've been all around the world but the place you've wanted to see the most was a fast food restaurant. Heck, if things really did work out for you, you'd consider actually.. Staying. You grabbed your juicy couture bag which contained your wallet, hairbrush, lip-gloss, phone and your charger. Then exited out your apartment door, being greeted by the chill breeze of air and crowds of people walking by. First step you made, and you could already feel the excitement rushing through you like adrenaline. Cruising through teenagers and overworked business' employees like it was another catwalk.

15 minutes of people stepping on your shoes and shoving you in multiple directions came to an end once you reached Pigsy's noodles, which there were no other people in sight, oddly strange. You wondered if this was the correct place your mother had been talking about for years since you were a toddler. But there were no other places similar to this, it had a nostalgic aroma even to those who've never visited. Making the place seem homey and welcoming. You were about to step inside until the sounds of pots and pans clattering came out from the other side of the door while you heard people yelling at each other.

"WHERE'S MY STAFF?!" was what you got out of the muffled screams. It seemed like they needed help, so you wanted to see what you could help out with. You twisted the knob and opened the door, instantly walking inside and closing it behind you so there would be no distractions to the ones outdoors.

You froze as you widened your eyes, looking to see a staff similar to a legend you heard before, the monkey king? Makes it even more confusing to see him literally RIGHT. BESIDE. IT.

You were already freaking out as what seemed like the owner of the store was also panicking, trying to calm you down while a boy holding the staff looked like he was about to faint.

Pigsy: DID YOU NOT LOCK THE DOORS MK?!

Mk: I THOUGHT I DID! OH MY GOD.. THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE.

Wukong: ...is it too late to disappear?

Y/n: "Okay! OKAY- Uhm.. I don't even know you.. so i'm just gonna get- going- now-"

But "STOP!" was the only thing you heard before you could barely even turn to leave. You froze again and slowly turned your head, taking the time to look at everyone around you.

Mei: There's no point in not to tell her, she may not know us. like literally, she's a complete stranger! But we can't let her leave nowww! Plus I kinda wanna keep her.. she's wayyy tooo prettyyyy..

A girl in a green jacket and two ponytails said. Your cheeks noticeably turned a subtle shade of red as you smiled in flattery.

Tang: Although I do agree, she's not a doll Mei, you can't just keep her. Plus, how do we even start.. I'm usually good at explaining things..

Wukong: Hey, hey! Guysssuhh!! I'm pretty sure this is where I come in!

You looked at the monkey up and down as you blinked in surprise, him stepping forward to start from the beginning of how he technically wasn't a myth, bragged a bit about his immortality and how a super-cool mentor he was, and continued to introduce himself and the rest of the people in the store. It normally would've taken you some time to memorize the names of so many people, but the shock had the names engraved into your memory. But you finally calmed down significantly after you sat down and allowed Pigsy to let you eat a bowl of noodles, surprisingly on the house. Which Tang didn't think was fair because he said you had "pretty privilege" and started nagging, but you laughed and took the last sip of your bowl. You stayed in honor of having a new person (that person being you.) into the Lmk squad. Mk grabbed your hand and decided to bring you upstairs to show off his room ignoring as Pigsy screamed after him, telling him to quick slacking off and to finish his shift first.

♡

I was being dragged off into Mk's room, which was a bit messy, but he seemed happy to show it off anyway. He invited me to sit on the carpet as he sat beside me. I had to admit, I found it funny how interested he was in finding out more about me. His childlike behavior and excitement was similar to having a little brother, yes, I was aware that I was only a year or two older than him, But I was more than happy to answer any questions he had for me.

It was fun, we stayed upstairs for about 40 minutes playing his favorite video game of the monkey king. I guess you could say ... he was a bit of a fanboy, huh? But hearing him ramble on and on about something he was so passionate about made me feel useful that I could listen to someone. Did this mean we were friends now?

Mk: Hey Y/n!

Y/n: Yeah? What happened Mk?

Mk: Do you have Snapchat or something? Since we're friends I wanna add you on my socials so we can talk more.

Y/n *Caught off guard a bit*: O-oh. I- uh.. Sure!

It's not like I was trying to be awkward, but to be honest, as far as the compliments go, I don't have any friends.. Wow. Uh. That sounded way more desperate than I intended it to be.. I've been so busy with travelling but now that I'm permanently staying in ONE PLACE, I actually have the opportunity to make some. And be friendly, y'know? I guess I zoned out while playing video games with MK because I didn't notice how Pigsy slammed his door open and started to scold him.

Pigsy: DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO GO BACK UPSTAIRS? GET DOWN HERE, AND. GET. DELIVERING. OR IM CUTTING YOUR PAYCHECK !!

Mk: Okay okay!! I'm coming down, jeez.. Sorry Y/n, but I have a job to take care of, you can hang with Mei, or just stay here if you want to in the meantime!

Y/n *Smiles*: It's all good, do your best. Oh, and don't get fired!

Mk smiled at me one more time before heading back downstairs while Pigsy chased him with a frying pan, I giggled and turned off the controllers, as well as the game before turning around and seeing a specific monkey ..

Y/n: Monkey king? Where did you come from? Wait. Your not-

...

"Wukong? I know, the names Macaque. Six eared Macaque if you've ever heard of me, have you?"

Y/n: ..Actually I haven't, how come the others never told me about you? Are you one of their friends or something?

Macaque: *Mumbling; well you ask a lot of questions now don't you?* Well.. Yeah! Uhm... I haven't really spoken to them for some time. We have our cons, I guess. That's probably why they haven't mentioned me so far.

His hand on the back of his head, smiling with lowered eyes waiting for my response, this seemed kind of fishy.. Fishier than whatever the hell was under Mk's bed. He looked a bit similar to Wukong, and i've read a lot of wattpad to think that "Macaque" was either enemies, best friends with him, his boyfriend, ex boyfriend, or soon-to-be-boyfriend or- okay I'll stop

Y/n: Well, why are you here?

Macaque: Hm?

Y/n: So why did you feel the need to appear all of a sudden? And why in front of me, couldn't you have said hello to the others first?

Macaque: Well, I would. But like I said, we aren't on the best of terms right now. And I wanted to introduce myself since they'd probably not let me near you.

Y/n: Ah .. I see..

Macaque: You wanna get out of here?

Y/n *Shocked as she holds her breath for a moment*: I.. I don't think I should.

Macaque: Pft. Your no fun. If you can't make up your mind, your probably just as indecisive as I though.

He looked at me up and down, like he was mocking me or something. Not the greatest first impression for someone who wanted to avoid talking to their friends. I can tell why they don't like him, what a creep.

Y/n: What is that supposed to mean? Jerk..

Macaque: Well you sure think your on top of the world, huh? If you need something, give me a call will ya? When your less petty.

With shadowy figures surrounding the room, and a purple cloud of smoke making it hard to see, I closed my eyes for just a few seconds. I let out a cough before I opened them and he was just.. Gone? Talk about a dramatic disappearance. I probably should tell the others. He seemed so threatening, so dramatic too. I was no fun? Me? HE'S the boring one! THAT SHIDBCJFKBVKGDBGDZKNJ BITCH.

I should've yanked his beautiful hair out before he left, but I don't wanna cause a fuss in someone else's house, store? "I don't want to be a bother while I'm in here" I thought. I walked out of the room and went downstairs being greeted by Mei, who took my hand and went out the store. Where was she taking me?

♡

Okay, I know I shouldn't have taken her somewhere without her permission, but I was bored alright? Without Mk, I had someone else to join me and Red for our hang-out! Although it was quite loud up there. Did Mk force her to play that Monkey king fangame the whole time? I giggled when she asked me where I was taking her.

Y/n: So where are we going?

Mei: Only to the best freaking place in the freaking universe! THEEE ARCADEEEE!

Y/n: Ohh! You must really love that place, seems you and Mk are kind of alike.

Mei: That's why we're best friends! And you are too now!

Y/n: Huh? I am?

Mei: Yeah! You seem cool, and with the whole awkward introduction thing, I figure why not get to know each other to make it less forced.

Y/n: I mean.. I guess we could get to know each other. Is there anyone else coming?

Mei: Ohh.. Just a nuisance..

Y/n: Wait wha-

Mei: A friend, I mean. Just a really ANNNNNOYINGG one who I had to beg for HOURS to meet up with! I didn't wanna go alone since Mk was busy, but now I want to bring you with, so you two could introduce each other!

Y/n: Oh.. so like an enemies to lo- I mean.. Frenemies thing? Don't worry, I'm pretty chill with ignorant people, I work with them all the time!

I let out a laugh when y/n made that joke, I never got to know what her job was though. But it seemed like she was well off, her skincare routine must've costed a lott cause GODDD she was glowing frfr

I walked with her as we listened to girl in red, and spotted red son in front of the arcade, he looked at me and gave me the biggest mf side eye I've ever seen smh. He turned to y/n and raised a brow as we went up to him.

Mei: HEYY WHAT'S COOKING GOOD LOOKING 😏

Red son: Oh my god- Hello, Mei. And Who's this?

Mei: Her name's Y/n, she sort of found out about the monkey king and..

Red son: Wait, WHAT?!

Mei: Ahahaha.. Yeah she walked in on us.

Red son: So now your just going around letting strangers find out? How could you and Mk be so stupid..

Y/n: It was an accident, and no. They are not letting random people find out, it's just me. Stop being so dramatic, and over what? If your gonna insult Mei AND Mk for one small thing than maybe you shouldn't have came, if your gonna be such a jerk at that too.

Mei: Y/n I-

Red son: Hmph. I'd normally not take comments like this from a peasant like you, but you'd seem like an exception, loud mouth.

Red son walked away as he turned around, asking if we were coming with him to the arcade, I mean. At that point I was gonna ask Y/n If she wanted to leave.. But she followed him anyway, I think I just made them get into some sort of rivalry.. Oops.

Nobody talked to each other until we got there, cause like- it's the FREAKING ARCADE??? I dragged y/n's hand and brought her to every gaming station. I. Could. Find. She seemed to enjoy it too but Red son was just wandering around like a lost 3-year-old. Soo I dragged him along too. And soon both y/n and red son were having this major competition on .. just .. dance? What the-??

Red son: YOU STUPID PEASANT- YOU SUCK AT DANCING!!

Y/n: SAYS THE GUY WHO'S LOSING TO ME!!

Yeah.. uh.. Anyway, while they were having their dance-off, I decided to play some of the racing games that were ACTUALLY working, I may or may not have broken a few from rage..

♡

It was probably an hour or two before red son used his teleporting fire majiggy powers to attend his "Royal matters".. What a sore loser! But whatever, he most likely just came to hang out with his little cruuuushhh~

I was heading back to Pigsy's, dropping Mei back home safely first before going on my phone and checking the time. I wasnt too sure if Mk would be done his shift at 7, but why not check anyway?

Walking down the partially empty sidewalks, You stopped by a little shop nearby and grabbed a boba before heading a few blocks down to open the door to Pigsy's. You heard the door creak before stepping inside and sighing as you closed it, turning the knob.

You heard a voice, and it wasn't Mk's.

Wukong: Hey, Uh.. Bud? We need to talk.

This was gonna take a weird turn, huh..?

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till-you-scream-and-cry · 2 years

Text

Pumpkin Spicy Night

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Måneskin (all of them)

summary: you had great plans for a Halloween night, which got changed by mother nature herself, yet in the end, it turns out much better than you hoped for

word count: 4.3k

contents: SMUT

author’s note: I tried to make it at least a little spooky, my first longer fic after a break so i hope you’ll like it, and well, it includes everyone so🎃

Måsterlist | tåglist | my chapter story

...

It started as a perfect, sunny day. Nothing indicated that nature would soon ruin and change the plans you made for that night. Halloween was always special to you, but this year even more than usual. Vic called you a day before and said that she wants to take you as her plus one to a party on the outskirts of Rome. You were friends for a while now, but after one of the weekends you two spent alone in their house, you became more than that.

You gave in to the sexual tension that was in the air and spent the most passionate night together. From that day you had casual, wild sex with no bigger commitment. It seemed like the best option for you and where you were in your life. Some harmless fun with no strings attached.

You were really excited after her call, it was a promise of a great night in the best company you could possibly think of. Besides a good sexual match, you were actually great friends. You grabbed a bag full of different costume options, some makeup and car keys. Soon later you were in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed with your legs dangling from it. Vic was in the process of going through her closet, trying to find a lacy top she wanted to wear.

“Maybe you left it at Nica’s?” You asked with a faint smile, watching her growing frustration as she kept tossing the clothes around.

“No, I called her already, fucking hell where is it?!”

“Maybe Thomas borrowed it?” You leaned back on your elbows and frowned. “Damn, look at these clouds…”

Vic turned around and came closer to a window, she moved the curtains to the side and sighed. The sky got dark, the entire room looked as if someone switched the lights off.

“Yeah, it seems like a storm is coming, a big one.” She turned to you, and at the same time, a flash of big lightning ripped the sky in half, making you widen your eyes. “Oh, that was impressive.” She said and her words were followed by a loud thunder which made the widows shake.

“I don’t know if we’ll make it to the party before it hits.” You whispered, sitting up straight.

“Well…” Vic smirked and walked over to the bed. She climbed on the bed and sat behind you. “We could just stay here and entertain ourselves otherwise.” She purred, leaning over to your ear, and pushing your hair aside. She placed a wet kiss on your neck, slipping her arms around you.

“Don’t you want to go?” You asked with hesitation in your voice. Her hands cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You let out a sigh.

“Oh, you still want to?” Vic asked with a chuckle. She grabbed the hem of your top and started pulling it up, to finally take it off you and throw it aside. “I think your body says something else…”

“Uh huh yeah maybe…maybe we can stay.” You mumbled as she unclipped and slid the bra off your body.

Vic kissed your neck, her one hand was teasing your bare nipple, flicking it and pinching it from time to time. Her other hand found its way between your thighs, brushing the damp material of your panties.

“God, you’re so desperate already…” She mumbled and moved the material aside, making you gasp as her fingers touched your soaked pussy.

Her fingers danced around your folds slowly, teasing your clit and spreading your wetness around. She sat close behind your back, stretching her legs around you. She hooked them under your calves and pulled your legs apart, exposing you more. You reached behind and tangled your hand in her hair, gasping and whining under her touch.

“Fuck I need to taste you…” She purred into your ear, taking away her fingers.

Vic moved away and took your hand. You turned around and grabbed her chin, pulling her into a passionate kiss. You helped her out of her top and pushed her on her back, got rid of your panties and straddled her. You placed your hands on her bare tits, teasing them gently, making her sigh in pleasure. Vic watched you with a grin, her beautiful, blue eyes giving you comfort, she kept stroking your thighs, encouraging you to move higher. Finally, your pussy was only inches from her chin, she looked at you and smiled.

“Good girl…” She purred.

Vic pulled you down on her lips and placed an intense kiss on your clit. You screamed and bucked your hips forward. She kept swirling her tongue around your clit, kissing and teasing you, faster and faster. You were already close when she started, her warm tongue was just perfect, pushing you over the edge. She spanked your ass loudly.

“Ride my face, baby…” She mumbled, and that was all you needed.

Your hips started swaying back and forth, the blissful friction got you screaming and gasping erratically. The loud noise synched with huge lighting which drowned the room in a blue glow. You came with a loud cry, grasping her hair, riding out your high.

“Shhh!”

“What?” You mumbled, looking down at her with hazy eyes, still trying to catch your breath.

“Did you hear that?” She asked with a serious look.

“No…it’s probably wind or…” A loud bang coming from downstairs interrupted you.

“Yeah, I don’t think so…” Vic said with a nervous tone and patted your thigh. You got off her and sat on the bed with shaky legs.

“Maybe it's Thomas?” You asked, picked up her goodie and put it on. Vic grabbed her top.

“Thomas is asleep in his room, and the noise is coming from downstairs.” She kept looking at the door, biting her thumb.

“What about Damiano? Ethan, maybe?” You put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze, feeling how tense she was,

“Ethan left an hour ago, Damiano is visiting his mother today. Fuck…” she sighed and looked at you. “We need to go and check.

“No….Vic, no, that’s the main reason why people die in horror movies, come on.” You tried to grab her hand, but she was faster. Vic stood up and grabbed the candlestick. She yanked the candle out and threw it aside.

“Vic, love, do you want to fight a ghost with…this?” You could barely hold back the laughter, but Vic seemed awfully serious.

“Oh sure, laugh at me, I want to see you fighting a burglar with a damn cross and holy water.” She scoffed and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Exactly, now let’s go. And be quiet.”

The whole situation seemed a little ridiculous, maybe it was the fault of endorphins rushing through your system, but you were struggling to take Vic seriously, while she was sneaking up on a mysterious noise. Your smile faded away as soon as you stepped out of the room. The house was drowning in darkness, the thunders were making you wince every few seconds. The howling wind got into the house through an open window, rattling ominously against the wall. Vic closed it and grabbed your hand. She gave you an encouraging look before taking the first step downstairs. You squeezed her hand hard, now genuinely scared of what you might find. The storm seemed like a perfect time to break into someone’s house. The noises were muffled, and people would pay less attention to them. You finally got to the living room. The cold, stone floor was making you shiver, the room was dark, lit only by lightning ripping the sky apart every few seconds. It was one of the scariest storms you’ve seen in a while. Vic Pulled you towards the kitchen, then the studio, and a bathroom. Nobody was there. You checked the front door which was locked, just the way Vic left them when you came over.

“One place left,” Vic whispered and pointed towards the dark corridor leading to the laundry room and the garage. She clicked the light switch but nothing changed. The power was out.

“Maybe let’s get a flashlight or…” You tried your best, but Vic was already grabbing the handle of the door leading to the garage. The next thing you could hear was her scream.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you want me to have a heart attack?!” She yelled, and her words were followed by chaotic smacking of…someone.

“Calm down, are you insane?!” Ethan covered himself from her punches.

“Jesus Christ what are you sneaking up like that?!” Vic threw the candlestick aside and put her hands on her hips, her face was red and her nostrils flared up. She was furious, he must’ve scared her a lot.

“I was on my way to a party and I saw the dark clouds, so I came back here to get a car. Just in time, it started raining when I got here. And the power went out and I couldn’t open out fucking electric door!” He ended up with a raised voice and a light kick aimed at the car tire. “Sorry, hi y/n.” He gave you a faint smile, “I didn’t mean to scare you two.”

“Hi.” You mumbled quietly.

“Well you interrupted us something important so don’t expect me to forgive you so quickly,” Vic said and pouted, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh really?” he asked, looking you two up and down in a pale light coming from outside. You were barely clothed, had messy hair and smudged lipstick, Vic wasn’t any more representable. He smirked. “Oh, I see, judging by looks and moods I assume it was your turn now hmm?” He cooed to Vic and turned to you. “Well since I’m already late to the party, and you’re probably not going anywhere either…” He bit his lip and kept staring at you with a grin.

“Oh I’m sorry, are you trying to fuck her or…?” Vic scoffed and stepped a little closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Would you like that, cucciola? I can tell him to fuck off…” He whispered into your ear, her warm breath tickled your skin.

“Well, to be fair…I wouldn’t mind.” You said quietly and looked at Ethan, who already had a big, proud grin on his face. You were open to anything, and Ethan was definitely one of the people you couldn’t say no to. He had this mystic aura around him, seemingly stoic, but so damn hot. And well, there were rumours you’ve heard that needed to be tested.

“Deal, but I won’t just look, I hope you’re aware…” She said to Ethan and pulled you to the living room.

She pushed you onto the sofa and straddled you. Vic looked deeply into your eyes and smirked.

“Whore…” She whispered and pressed her lips to yours, kissing you deeply.

When she broke off the kiss, you saw a light behind her, spreading around a room with a nice orange glow. Ethan finished lighting some candles, he put a few blankets and pillows on the carpet and got rid of his shirt. He stepped closer, pushing his hair back, the candlelight made his muscles look even more defined. Ethan cupped your face with his big hand and stroked your cheek.

“You’re so gorgeous, I hope you know that, cucciola.” He brushed your lips as you smiled, and leaned closer to give you a soft kiss.

“Oh she knows, I make sure she hears that often,” Vic said with a hint of jealousy in her voice, you liked how possessive she was, but only around her bandmates. There was some kind of rivalry between them, very amusing to watch. But deep down you knew she didn’t mind sharing.

“Well never enough compliments, am I right?” Ethan whispered and started slowly unzipping the hoodie, exposing your bare breasts. He sighed and licked his lips when the candlelight shone on them. “So pretty and soft…”

He traced his finger down your neck, to your breast, circling your nipple before brushing it gently. You gasped quietly, making him hum. Vic knelt beside you and started stroking your leg, sneaking her hand higher and higher up your thigh, forcing you to widen your legs. Finally, she reached your bare pussy and cupped it with her hand. You closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“Fuck you’re so hot…”

Ethan’s hand wrapped around your throat in a light grip, you looked at him and parted your lips, unable to resist a sigh, Vic’s touch was getting more and more intense. You pressed your hand to his chest and started slowly dragging it down to the hem of his trousers. His breathing became louder as you put your hand over the growing bulge. You started unbuckling his trousers, staring at him with hazy eyes. Vic slipped her two fingers in, making you moan and grip Ethan’s arm.

“Can’t wait to bury my cock inside you…” Ethan purred into your ear, guiding your hand to his cock, you gave him a few slow strokes. He was thick and heavy, twitching under your touch. “You’re just aching for it, hmm?” He asked and winked at Vic who added another finger.

“We need to get you ready, baby.” She kissed your leg and chuckled.

“Please…I’m ready, I can’t….” You whined, giving Ethan a pleading look.

“Oh, are you begging?” He asked, pinning his dark eyes in you.

“Uh huh, I am…” You whined and moaned loudly as Vic started pumping her fingers faster.

Ethan grabbed you and commanded Vic to stop. He swiftly laid you on your back, on the blankets and pillows, making sure you were comfortable. He kicked his jeans aside and knelt in front of you. You kept watching him impatiently, spreading your legs wide, feeling no shame left. Ethan teased your clit with his tip for a moment, before slowly pushing in, stretching you around his thick cock. You moaned and grabbed the blanket so hard that your knuckles got white. He slowly pushed his entire length into you, and stroked your thighs with a proud grin.

“Such a good girl…” He mumbled between low grunts, picking up his pace.

Vic crawled closer to you and cupped your chin.

“Aww you didn’t think I’m going to sit and watch, did you? I think you owe me, love.”

She took off her top, straddled you and moved closer, till her pussy was only inches from your face. You placed both hands on her ass, squeezing it and pulling her down on your lips. Vic moaned and threw her head back, her long hair tickled your tummy. Ethan’s grip on your hips tightened as he started speeding up. Your moans sent vibrations against Vic’s clit, making her whine and wriggle, bucking her hips faster, grinding on your tongue. Ethan got louder and rougher, you felt that your body was slowly giving up. All you could do was to hold Vic still and have your tongue out while she rode it, chasing her release. As soon as she screamed, and moved away, still shaking in convulsions, you felt that you were only seconds away from bliss. She got off you and laid by your side, cooing sweet nothings into your ear and playing with your breasts. Soon the wave of orgasm washed over your body, and the only thing you could see was Ethan’s face in a grimace of orgasm as he came deep inside you with a loud moan. He slipped out of you and collapsed, wrapping an arm around your middle.

Your peaceful moment of rest was interrupted by a loud bang and an unsettling crack coming from the outside. The three of you jumped and looked at the giant window. The noise was followed by footsteps running down the stairs.

“What the fuck happened…here.” Thomas was still half asleep, holding onto his pillow, wearing nothing but boxers. He looked at the three of you with parted lips, clearly surprised to see you naked in the middle of the living room. “What…”

“I was about to go and see…” Ethan pulled on his underwear and threw a blanket on his back. He grabbed a big flashlight and opened the balcony door.

The gust of cold wind got into the living room, making you and Vic squeak before he closed them again. In all that chaos you briefly forgot that you were still naked. You turned around and glanced at Thomas, who was shamelessly staring at your tits. He cleared his throat and tried to fix the bent material of his boxers, giving up under his growing bulge.

“We got carried away, alright? Don’t be a perv…” Vic chuckled, making him blush.

“No, come on, I didn’t…” he started, a bit annoyed at her accusation.

“Vic, stop it, we’re literally in the middle of the living room. Besides…” you smirked at him “I don’t mind the audience.”

Thomas reciprocated the grin and chuckled. Vic looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You could’ve said earlier that you’d like to fuck them all, there were things I could’ve arranged.” She said and got nudged in the ribs by you. “So? Do you want to fuck them all?”

“Come on Vic, it’s not that I planned it…” you looked at her, her intense stare worked like a serum of truth. “Well yeah, I always considered them hot, maybe I fantasized about them once or twice…”

“You could’ve told me!” She smacked you with a pillow, “Not all of them are present but…” She glanced at Thomas, watching your bickering with curiosity. His bulge was still very much present, and the size of it made you wonder how great this night could be.

“Well,” Ethan interrupted you by opening the balcony door again and barging into the living room, soaking wet. “Seems like a branch of a tree broke and smashed our bin. But that’s all, no demons, no burglars.” He stopped and looked at Thomas, awkwardly trying to shield his crotch from him.

“Oh for fucks sake, don’t look at me like that.” Thomas mumbled with anger.”

“Oh no, I’m not judging you dude, I’m not this much of a hypocrite. Quite the opposite, I would encourage you…” he looked at you with a grin, “This one over here is damn good, and if she’s interested…”

“She is.” You said with a smile.

Thomas grabbed his cock through his boxers and smiled back. He summoned you with his finger and backed till his legs hit the sofa. Thomas sat down heavily and watched you crawl to him on all fours. You knelt in front of him, watching his pink cheeks, fluffy hair and lips parted from lust.

“Good girl.” He mumbled, and stroked your head.

You pulled on the waistband of his boxers and set his hardening cock free. Thomas gasped and bit his lip, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You grabbed him firmly and gave him a few strokes, happy with how he reacted to your touch. The moment your tongue slid over his skin he whined and pulled your hair, making you hum. The noises behind you suggested that Ethan and Vic sat on the other sofa and kept staring at your exposed ass. Thomas pushed your head down, encouraging you to take him in your mouth. It was hard to fit his entire cock in, but slowly you started bobbing your head, making quiet gurgling noises. He started grunting, now both his hands were holding your head, dictating you the rhythm. You felt how wet you were getting, almost dripping on the floor, aching to get him inside of you.

“Fcuking storm…what the hell did I miss?!” Damiano appeared out of nowhere, he must’ve used the garage door.

He looked at the four of you with a devilish smirk, the water was dripping from his clothes and hair. You lifted your head, and looked at him, with saliva mixed with precum dripping down your chin. Thomas still had his hands in your hair. The only semi-dressed person was Ethan, yet his boxers were slid down a little. He must’ve started playing with himself at the sight of that show. Vic’s hand was between her thighs, her flushed cheeks suggested that she was doing the same thing.

“Well? We’re having an orgy and nobody called me? Hi, yn.” He started taking off his shirt and threw it on the floor with a wet noise. He unbuckled his belt and looked at you. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting rid of this before I get a cold. Don’t mind me…” he said and kicked his jeans aside.

“Umm…well…” You looked at Thomas and raised your eyebrow. Thomas smirked and stroked your cheek.

“I think she wants to say that she wouldn’t mind having you here as well. Is that right?” Thomas asked and winked at you.

“Yeah well…there are things I always wanted to try with you two so…” You mumbled to Thomas and turned to Damiano. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“Is that so?” He asked and looked at Thomas. “Thommy?”

“I don’t mind sharing…” he said while tucking a string of hair behind your ear.

“And…would your fantasy include having both of us in you at the same time? Is that what you had in mind?” He asked and walked closer, looking down at you with a grin. You nodded. “Well then…” Damiano leaned to Thomas and whispered into his ear. Thomas smiled and stood up.

They shuffled a little, Thomas laid on his back on the blankets and encouraged you to get down with him. You straddled him, allowing his hard cock to rub against your folds. He placed himself in such a way that you were facing the couch with Ethan and Vic, both playing with themselves, each of them with hands between their legs. Thomas started teasing you with his long fingers and sighed at how wet you were.

“You think you can take it, cucciola?” He mumbled, placing both hands on your hips.

You nodded and lifted yourself, to slowly lower yourself on his length. You took him slowly but in one go, feeling the wonderful stretch, spreading warmth over your body.

“Fuck she’s unbelievable…taking you so well…” Damiano’s raspy voice appeared out of nowhere.

He knelt behind you and started kissing your back, and neck, cupping both your breasts. He walked around to the front of you, his hardening cock in his hand, he leaned down and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Thomas’ hips bucked up, making you moan against his lips. Damiano chuckled and placed himself behind you. You kept a slow pace with Thomas, knowing what else was coming. Soon you felt Damiano’s fingers, and the coldness of lube, circling your other hole. He kept kissing your back and neck, playing with your tits with his other hand. Thomas tightened the grip on your hips, speeding up a little bit. Damiano slipped his finger in your ass, slowly at first, but seeing your reaction he hummed satisfied.

“Feels good?” He purred into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumbled and turned your head a little to him. “More…please…” You whined, getting more eager from Thomas’ moves.

Damiano slipped another finger with a grunt and spanked you with a free hand.

“Such a good girl…” He started slowly moving them, you felt that the world was starting to spin.

“Wait…” Damiano mumbled to Thomas and pressed his hand to your back to make you lean forward.

He started pressing his cock against your entrance, and after a moment of resistance, he slipped in. You gasped loudly, feeling so full and close to release.

“Still having fun?” Damiano asked, slowly pushing further till he bottomed out.

“Yes…fuck yes…” You managed to mumble, making them both chuckle.

They found a common rhythm, pounding into you, making you moan and whimper incoherent begs and pleading for them to go faster. A few thrusts later you felt the orgasm so strong that you almost passed out. Your bodies moved in sync for a while, till all three of you rode out your orgasm. The room was filled with moans, grunts and screams. You kept panting, barely able to see from dizziness. You collapsed on Thomas’ chest, feeling them both slipping out of you. You looked at the couch, where Ethan just finished on his gorgeous chest, but Vic was still close.

“Look at me…tell me to come…” She mumbled to you, her fingers moving fast, three of them disappearing in her pussy, the other hand rubbing her clit.

“Come for me…fucking come…” You mumbled. “Please, I want to see you come, mommy.”

Your words worked, she screamed, trapping her hands between her clenching thighs. The wet noises filled the room. She looked at you with a grin and bliss on her pink face.

They took great care of you, helped you to clean yourself up and wrapped you in a blanket. The four of you created a big cuddling pile under the fluffy covers, all gathered on the floor, limbs tangled together, breaths coming back to normal. You had no idea whose hands were here on your back, who was stroking your hair and kissing your head. All you knew was that you felt happy and spent. Damiano, still a little wet, lit a fire in the fireplace and slipped back under the blanket. Ethan grunted as he touched him with his cold feet. The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the lights came back up. Thomas chuckled and sighed.

“Amazing timing. Well…happy Halloween guys.”

...

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taylorrepdetective · 6 months

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Wait could you expand on says don't go / cornelia street analysis? I would like to hear more about that

Say Don’t Go was written with DW during the last days of December 2013. It appears to be about a new, undefined relationship where Taylor is in that stage of not knowing where the other person stands and is confused and a bit distraught that they are leading her on and don’t feel as strongly as Taylor does. Taylor is hooked and desperately hoping this person isn’t gonna be another unrequited love. You can read it as an early non-labeled relationship because Taylor says “I love you” to the person apparently for the first time, and is met with devastating silence. Ouch. (It obviously could be read as a relationship that is trying to be rekindled and the other person is not fully into it, but to me, new, undefined relationship fits best, especially with the timing of what I believe was going on at this time, and with other context, which I’ll get to.)

The lines “why’d you have to lead me on” and “I’m trying to see the cards that you won’t show” is a direct parallel to Cornelia Street’s looking back to the early stages of that relationship “Back when we were card sharks playing games, I thought you were leading me on”. So assuming Say Don’t Go was written contemporaneously to the events of late 2013, and that verse of Cornelia street is looking back to then, we got a resolution to the questions asked in SDG. Taylor thought they were leading her on but the “you called before I hit the tunnel..showed your hand” indicates that the other person finally explained themselves and they weren’t leading her on. And since in CS she is looking back from 2016 (when she lived at Cornelia st) to the early part of relationship, we can assume that that showing your hand bit in CS means the relationship from late 2013 continued for years.( Yes I know there’s that pesky “packed my bags left Cornelia st” that doesn’t fit 2013 , but let’s not forget she buzzcuts things and doesn’t always write literally because she is in the closet. Personally, I substitute The West Village for Cornelia St here.)

There are lots of other parallels in this song to other songs. First of all we have “cat and mouse for a month or two or three” which in my world view points to an early undefined relationship where they were sort of playing games with each other before they defined it. And Delicate, which was them having The Talk to define it.

The most intriguing parallel, though, is with YAIL. This new idea that Taylor’s confession of love was met with a devastating silence, and then by the time she wrote YAIL she was able to reinterpret that silence into a form of falling in love with your best friend (with the fear of ruining it causing confession paralysis that is such a core queer experience) is really something. I always loved YAIL, but this interpretation takes it to another level that makes me want to jump off a cliff.

Other possible linked songs:

-shot in the darkest dark and Getaway Car’s we never had a shotgun shot in the dark.

-The way she yells “I Love You” calls back to Cruel Summer’s screamed “I Love You” which was met with a devilish grin.

- the knife and the bleeding also ties to cruel summer.

I don’t want to go too far because it’s easy to get caught up in Swiftisms and see parallels that aren’t really there (like she wrote songs about trucks and dresses and rain and porches when she was 13-15 yo, it doesn’t mean she was still singing about that muse 10 years later.) But the card sharks, showing your hand, leading me on stuff between CS and Say Don’t Go is as clear as anything we ever get imo.

Lastly, we have this diary entry to tell us, contrary to her public statement that she stopped dating for two years, she was clearly dating someone during this period (one week after writing SDG) and it wasn’t going well:

Also, the original prologue to 1989 included this:

I wrote about moving to the loudest and brightest city in the world, the city I had always been overwhelmed by... until now. I think you have to know who you are and what you want in order to take on New York and all its blaring truth. I wrote about the thrill I got when I finally learned that love, to some extent, is just a game of cat and mouse.

So another parallel to Lover, that is specifically about deciding to move to NY.

So to me, it appears that sometime shortly after this diary entry, the Delicate conversation happened and the hand was shown. And she decided to move to NY by the end of January,

#jet lag kicking my ass

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chaoticloving · 1 year

Text

Born to Die

koh!harry styles x mob!reader

summery: after being double crossed, y/n is forced into making a deal with the devil.

warnings: death, murder, mentions of kidnapping and guns also anything related to hell and the mafia (surprise ik), angst and lil smut if you squint

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: HALLOWEEN FIC!!! also want to say that murder is not cool, and running a mafia is not cool. please like a reblog this since its something i normally don't do and i want to know all of your thoughts!!! also because i might've failed a test because i was writing this instead of studying!!! enjoy!

Y/n by no means was a good person. Morally, sure, she did everything that allied with her beliefs, but ethically, she was a nightmare. From being known as a heartless woman to being one of the most feared people in history–maybe, other than Satan–she knew the power she possessed, her effect on people.

She got her start in the casino world. She opened her first casino by age nineteen, using her charm and wit to impress men with big pockets to take her casino off the ground and launch it to success. Success, of course, leads to money, which leads to power and power leads to anything. Specifically for Y/n, that anything was weapons trading, money laundering, extortion, and the bright idea to dabble into politics.

As time went on, so did the list of enemies. So, it was about time for them to band together to take down the empire that Y/n built.

The day started out normal. Y/n woke up in her private mansion, one in the rich and private suburbs of New York. No one knew where she lived, except her “friend”, Angelo. Although she would never call him when she was in trouble–which is never–he was competent enough to do her “dirty” work. Angelo came from a wealthy background, a rich school boy who had no idea how destroyed the world was. He was just desperate to be seen as “edgy”. He was a good boy who knew how to follow orders, that's all she needed.

It was nearly two in the afternoon, Y/n’s sleep cycle was all out of whack. She tries her best to stay awake as much as she can. It’s hard when there's no one to lean on but would she even trust someone? Could she?

Y/n does her ‘morning’ routine: shower, teeth, cleanser, makeup, and then hair. She sighs as she admires herself in the mirror. She had a scar on her cheek bone. It was faint, yet noticeable if you looked hard enough. She remembers getting it too; the day when she walked away with a bleeding cheek and then the man who did that to her laid there a bullet hole in the head. It was probably the day her crime boss title was given, a well deserved name for the most feared person in the world.

Her face, though, was perfect. She knows what her grunts say about her–mainly tame things, as the last time she heard something inappropriate got to see the barrel of her gun–but what truly fills her ego is the face of some man, begging for mercy, begging her to tell her boss that they’ll do anything, then revealing herself as the boss.

In her morning, she felt peaceful. She changed into some athletic clothes, heading to her gym to do some boxing, but her phone rang out. She sighed as she said Angelo’s name–this couldn’t be good.

“Boss.” His voice cracked, and it just pissed Y/n off more.

“Spit it out.”

“My house was ransacked.” She sighed as she heard this, running her fingers through her hair. “Including the safe that kept your location.”

She hung up the phone and raced back to her room. She grabbed her go bag in the back of her closet when she heard her front doors being knocked down. Y/n swore as she loaded her gun, knowing she would have to fight her way out of this, and she knew exactly who she would have to fight.

A man with a fake deep voice, Alister, was telling the men to travel in a group. Zeke, another casino owner with a terrible cough from smoking, agrees saying to go down the hall to her bedroom.

That caught Y/n’s attention, they seemed to know where her room was despite that information not being in Angelo’s safe; she knew what that meant, and groaned when she knew she’d have to do more work after this.

Y/n took a deep breath when her bedroom door whipped open, a series of footsteps following along. “You go first.” “No you go!” “I went first in through the front door. Gerry go.” “Hell fuckin no.”

Bag over her shoulder, gun locked and ready, Y/n opened the closet door gun drawn in front. She fired a few bullets, knowing she landed from the grunts let out by a couple on the men, then lunged for the bedroom door. She sprinted out, hearing bullets fired at her and turned the corner, heading for the exit. As she ran down the stairs though, a bullet went through her ankle, tripping and falling right on her head.

…

Harry was tired.

He always seemed to be these days, or nights really. He was always in a sour mood, but what could you expect from the king of hell? It was his whole thing, being angry and mad all the time, but he was getting tired of it. The limited emotions would soon turn to nothingness, and he wasn’t sure what he preferred.

The anger reminded him of his early king days. When he was first given the position, he gave into the anger and madness that came with Hell and turned it into energy.

It was important to note that just because someone was sent to hell didn’t mean Harry liked them, in fact, he hated all of them.

Hell was ruled in weird ways. You had anyone who did anything majorly wrong, but you also had those who were truly evil, the ones that fueled Harry’s hatred for human kind and got the worst tourter out of anyone.

Harry groaned as he sat on his desk. He knew this was truly Hell because he had a stack of paperwork to go over. Niall had dropped off a couple of stacks of people who would most likely be sent down today. They used statistical probability to see who on the “bound to hell list” would most likely get themselves killed that day and what to expect.

Harry sipped his drink, a special Hell coffee brew that the devils made to perfection, as looked at the list. The normal people everyday, a couple people he knew, some workers downstairs had a bet on to see when they’d go, a rich guy, a gang leader, a politician, etc.

Harry’s eyes wandered back to the gang leader, recognizing the name from multiple people's cause of death section.

Y/n Y/l/n was a human he recognized, she was one of the few he could recognize and empathize with from his time as a human. He appreciated how she didn’t do anything rash. She had a plan for everything and knew what to expect, which caused his eyebrows to raise when he saw her name. According to his stats, she wasn’t due until old age, her COD being simply old age.

It didn’t make sense.

“Niall get in ‘ere.” He spoke into his phone, knowing a couple seconds later he would be knocking on the door. “Comin.”

“What’cha want boss?” Niall walked in with his hands in his pockets.

“Why is Y/l/n in this list?” He threw her file to Niall, who skimmed it. “She isn’t due for a few more decades.”

“Huh.”

“What does that mean?” Harry was getting impatient, not understanding why the man was taking his sweet time.

“You remember that angel that kept fucking with the people we like?”

Harry gave him a blank look.

“Louis punched him and got in trouble with the people upstairs.”

“The guy with the fucked up jaw?” Harry remembered. “What about ‘em?”

“Angelo, yeah.” Niall clarified. “That’s her COD. He causes her death.”

He tosses the file back to Harry and he quickly rereads the file. “Leave me.”

“Alright.” Naill heads to the exit, but hesitates at the door. “I know she's one of the better worse ones, but don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble with upstairs.”

Harry just glares at him in return.

…

Y/n woke up in a haze.

At first, she didn’t want to wake up. The couch she was laying on was too comfy, and warmth radiating from a fire relaxed her deeply–but soon remembered the events that just transpired.

She quickly gets on her feet, and is surprised when she doesn’t wince on her foot. She takes in her surroundings. She was in a room that seemed weirdly intimate; soft walls painted red illuminated with fire on candles and torches that emitted a soft smell of fresh rain. The noise though copied the smell. It sounded as though there was a thunderstorm outside, but it was off, it sounded artificial.

She didn’t think about it too much though. Her main priority was leaving this hell hole.

There was a single door and Y/n tried to unlock it but it wouldn’t budge.

She had to calm herself down from what was going on. She tried to think of how long she had passed out and who kidnapped her.

She tried to find a secret compartment, something to get her out of here, but when she heard the door handle jiggle, she grabbed a candle.

She was met with a man, hair set back with a strand in front. “Woah there lady.” He held his hands up in defense. “I’m not gonna hurt you, just coming to get you out of this stuffy room.

She didn’t say anything or lower the candle.

The man sighed. “Fine. Look, I'm Zayn and my boss wants to meet you. I don’t even know if what he did was allowed but I don’t really want to get yelled at right now do can you please just follow me.”

“Who is your boss?” She questioned. “What did you do to me while I was out?”

“Oh, for god's sake nothing! No one did. Man, just because I’m a devil doesn’t mean I act as disgustingly as some of those humans.” The man, Zayn, seemed deeply offended by her question, and her implying he was a “human”.

“Who is your boss?” She started again.

“Not one of your enemies, in fact, I’d say he's a huge fan. He is really impressed with your work.” Zayn revealed. “So if you would follow me.”

She didn’t have much of a choice and followed Zayn. “Leave the candle please.”

She sighed but complied, she hated being put into a corner like this.

Y/n followed behind him, keeping her wits about her and watching the man’s hands very carefully. They walked down the hall but stopped at the room with grand doors. “Alright so you go in there. “ He knocked on the door and they swung open quickly. Y/n felt a powerful presence from the desk and could barely make out a figure.

“In ya go.” Zayn pushed her in and closed the door. The room was illuminated, just like in the other room, with a series of candles, but there was a chandelier with candles above the desk, revealing the figure.

“Hello darling.” The man smiled, standing up and walking to the other side of his desk, sticking out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

Y/n shaked his hand, a firm yet not overpowering grip on both ends. “I don’t know you, why am I here?”

Harry smiled, she was just like in her file. “I’m here to make a deal.”

“A deal?” She questioned. “You kidnapped me, forced me here, and now want a deal.”

“Yup.” He smiled.

“What do I have that you need?” As much as Y/n hated to admit it, this Harry had the upper hand, so why did he need a deal?

“You make my work here much better, and you need revenge.” He said simply, like she knew what here was.

“You talk like I know you. Like I know this place.”

“Oh my bad darling, I’m sure you have some questions.” He smiled, walking over to the windows, covered by draps. “You’re in Hell.” He dramatically revealed the outside, showing what looked like a red storm with red lightning and rain.

“Are you one of the LSD dealers?” She laughed. It made Harry’s dead heart pound and stomach drop. He looked back to her with a disappointed yet angry look. “I’m not buyin’ anything, alright?”

“I’m Harry, King of Hell. And I just saved your life from a bunch of shitty men who would like nothing more than killing you.” He seethed, not used to people not taking him seriously. “You send the most deserving people here, you’re my top supplier, and I saved your life so you could get revenge on the reason you would be dead.”

“Sure, you saved my life by taking me to Hell.”

“Do you want me to send you back?” Harry asked, walking over to the fireplace and flicking his wrist. “This is what you have waiting for you when you go back.

Y/n’s curiosity of the better of her and walked forward to the fire. She peered into it and saw herself laying on the ground of her home. The scene moved to her angry enemies close to her body, guns ready.

Y/n didn’t feel right. She knew she was here, but by looking at the image of herself she could feel her process being elsewhere, presumably with guns aimed at her head.

This man couldn’t be telling the truth, could he? Is he even a man?

“Why aren’t I dead?” Is all she asked, not looking at Harry, eyes staying on herself.

“Time works differently down here.” He shrugged, partly glad she was coming around. “I was able to pull you down here when you hit your head. But because coming to Hell takes up lots of energy, and you were already injured, you were out for what would’ve been the equivalent for a day.”

“A day?”

“25 hours if you want to be precise, but yeah.”

Y/n couldn’t help but believe him. And looking at herself, helpless, and closer to death than what she is now, she didn’t have any other move then to agree to his deal. She’d come up with some other plan to cross him.

How hard could it be to double cross the devil?

“What are the terms of your deal?”

A sly smile swept across Harry’s face. “I’ll save your life if you help me kill an angel.”

“That’s all?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Harry chided, walking over to his desk and taking the file he needed. “Angels are hard to kill. And this one is someone close to you.”

He flung the file over and Y/n caught it, not interested in thinking about the physics or “magic” that made the manilla folder guilde over to her simply.

“Angelo?” She asked in a monotone voice. “Not that good of a cover name, huh?” She smiled as she read the information of the Angel. The pieces fit together with all of his little mannerisms, the sacredness with anything murdery and lying. Harry noted the sly smiled that mimicked his earlier. She knew this girl was insane, but was it bad that he liked it? Why does he care though, he’s the King of Hell, he’s supposed to do bad things.

“How do I kill it?” She asked, now meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Oh, “I” now? You gonna kill him yourself?”

“I’m guessing so if that’s the reason you saved me.” She remarked. “How do we kill it then?”

“I know a place in the upper world that we can travel to that has information on all this stuff.” Harry huffs, slowly approaching Y/n. “Do we have a deal?”

Harry held out his hand, ready to shake. Y/n glance down to the hand then to his eyes; they were a red-yellow with a pupil like a cat but didn’t quite go with his face. His face had no marks though, his skin was a little rough but clear–maybe that's what being the King of Hell does to you.

She shook his hand. Firm hands met each other, hers was deathly cold while his were burning.

“I will need to send you up there and to be honest, I’ve never done this before so bear with me here, love.” Harry smiled as he leaned in and kissed the back of her hand, causing her to feel faint again.

…

She felt herself laying on the ground, tired beyond belief. She heards guns loading and thought for a second she imagined everything, the fire room, the red lightning, the devil, the king. She breathed in and couldn’t believe this would be her final seconds, Y/n couldn’t let herself go out like this.

…

Harry has never brought someone down to Hell before. He was glad it took too long for Y/n to awaken because he was in no shape to have a conversation while he was passed out too–coincidentally, for the same time Y/n was. But bringing someone back to the human world and himself was such a heavy task. He looked around and was outside, “breathing” in the fresh air. It was lightly raining, nothing like the fire rain back in Hell, but it had a calming presence like never before.

It took him a second to realize what was going to happen inside of the home. He barraged in though the grand doors–mad at himself he couldn’t appear inside–and was met with quite the scene.

Y/n is barely holding herself up, men were crowding around her and tasting victory. Her eyes were dropping, her skin tone cooled dramatically then even what it was before. Harry felt guilt creeping in, he needed to do something, but luckily, all eyes were on him when the door slammed shut behind him.

“Who’s this fucker, huh?” The tall and lanky pointed his gun to Harry. “This the real Boss? Knew a weak fucker like you couldn’t be this big bad mob boss.”

Laughter rang out, the men now aiming their guns towards Harry. Before Harry could retaliate, Y/n landed a punch on the man who spoke who fell to the ground. Harry knew this was his chance to ask on his side of the deal, he practically teleported to the other men and all he had to do was press on their head, knocking them out, giving Niall some more paper down below.

Y/n had collapsed and Harry was just able to save her from hitting her head again.

Harry knew what he needed to do and didn't hesitate.

He picked her up and ran outside until he found a car. It was presumably hers and he was lucky enough that he was able to start it. He has never driven a car before but it was pretty intuitive, she slammed on the gas pedal and headed to the city.

Harry soon found out he hated cars. If he wasn't so tired he probably would have been able to teleport Y/n and himself directly to wherever they needed to go, but of course, he is stuck with this god forsaken mode of transportation. He got lost a couple times too, but eventually he made it into the city, all while Y/n was passed out in the passenger seat.

A couple minutes after getting off of some exit, he heard Y/n groan and shuffle around.

Harry had to admit, it was impressive how quickly she came to her senses after being knocked out. He looked at her and was surprised to see a knife at his throat. “Where are you taking me?”

He scoffed. “Trust me now, will ya?” She had an unimpressed look on her face. “We are going to the New York Public Library, or “possessor secretorum celi et inferni” as we call it.”

“Why would we go to the fucking library?”

“Because there's a section that's only accessible to demons and angels walking the earth. That way we can figure out how you’re going to kill that bitch of an angel.” Harry clairfied, gently guiding her hand down and out of view from onlookers while driving. He pulled around and eventually found a parking spot.

“Why do I have to kill Angelo?” She asked, placing her knife back into its secret spot–Harry could imagine what other weapons, and maybe not weapons, were under her clothes too–then getting out of the car. “You’re the king of death, why don’t you just kill him?”

Harry sighed, brushing his long hair out of his face while grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the car, putting them over his devil eyes. “The only thing both devils and angels know is that they can’t ‘kill’ one another, a human has to do that.”

They walked into the library, Harry leading the way up the stairs and down a long and abandoned hallway. It was a clique. A complete and utter clique. Going down a dark hallway to find a secret room with the devil himself.

Harry did some hand motion to the wall, a pentagram appeared and then Harry grabbed Y/n’s hand. “Walk with me.”

Y/n was about to ask “walk where?” but Harry had practically pulled her through the wall. She stumbled a bit, but regained herself when she let go of Harry’s hand. She looked around and was met with a small dusty room. Harry flicked his wrist and the littering of candles around the room lit up. Harry sighed and began taking books off of a bookshelf.

“Start looking for anything about Angels.” Harry asked. “This could take awhile.”

“This place doesn’t seem to get used too often.” Y/n remarked, starting at the opposite book shelf. “It’s very Narnia-like.”

“Narnia?”

“It’s this children's book where there's another world.” She summarized. “This place, and Hell I guess, are very other-wordly. Just not what one would normally imagine.”

“What? Don’t like the idea of there being Hell?” Harry chuckled, putting book after book back on the shelf.

“I never really thought much about it. I knew if there was Hell, I’d go there, but that didn’t really stop me from everything.” She replied. “What about you? How does one become the King of Hell?”

“I was a human, before. I didn’t have the best life, I was crossed, lied to, and used.” Y/n noticed a bit of a horse sound coming from him, but it was quickly gone after he cleared his throat. “All that creates pain, then anger, and I guess it was enough anger to get Lucifer’s attention. He made me be the perfect devil to take over as King when I died so he could deal with some other plans.”

Y/n nodded and kept checking books. She soon realized that all the books in her row were about devils and demons. There was an interesting page though that she read, titled “The Devil's Tourture”. She kept reading, then she found the most interesting paragraph.

Any type of dark entity is subject to toutrue from this one thing. They are groomed to bring the most perfect pain, the best way to get humans to live their worst life, so the solution on how to kill a Devil? Make him repent. Make him sorry for his past actions, make him change his whole ideology, make him regret his dead life and wish to be better. It doesn’t matter the motivation, whether it be love, greed, lust; the important part is making sure to feel remorse.

“Y/n?” Speak of the Devil, literally. Harry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts while she closed the book shut. “I got something.”

Y/n placed the book back onto the shelf and walked over to Harry. “Seems like you just gotta make him sin.” Harry laughed. “Shouldn’t be too hard, fucker set up your death.”

Y/n scoffed at the irony, all she has to do tonight is make an Angel sin and a Devil repent, what could be hard about that?

“Do you know where Angelo could be?” Harry asked, heading out of the claustrophobic room, Y/n next to him.

“I tagged him when I first met him. He normally hangs out in his home on the upper east side.” Harry nodded, taking off the sunglasses and making a quick haste to the exit. She took the keys out of Harry's hand and reached for the driver's seat. “No offense but you can’t drive.”

Harry’s eyes got darker when he started at Y/n, but she didn’t move. He gave way and walked shamly over to the passenger’s side. He could not imagine that happening down in Hell, but up here, it’s Y/n’s territory.

The drive would be short, that’s what Y/n assured Harry as he looked a little pale, his warm undertones turning cold. She decided to be nice to get him off the drive. “Why do you want to kill Angelo so bad?”

Harry smiled. “He is famous for going after Hell’s favorite people. You for example.” Harry looked over to Y/n. She notices his look on his face and swears that his red eyes go sea-green for a second. This could be easier than I thought. “Like I said, you’re my top supplier. You send the ones who really need to be punished. You’re already better than some of the Devils I sent up here to do that.”

“Oh stop, or I’ll think you’re flirting with me.” She laughed. She hated herself in the moment, it made her feel young when she was first starting out in the mob world and no one took her seriously. She hated flirting; the plan was to go the rest of her life without anyone else, they would just slow her down and deep down she knew nobody would understand her. But flirting with the devil was so much easier then she thought it would be. At least he sort of understood some of her mind.

Harry laughed. A sweetly weird sound coming from him. She never thought a devil could make that noise.

“So what if I am? Don’t get to see a lot of pretty girls down in Hell.” He replied. Harry didn’t like the feeling in his chest, it reminded him of when he was about to die. So he decided to change the subject. “How’d you get that scar?”

Y/n shrugged her shoulders. “I killed someone.”

She pulled up to a luxurious house, soon exiting the car with Harry on her heels. “So what do I do? Have sex with him?

“No, don’t be so vulgar.” Don’t be so jealous. “You can do what you want but it should just be easy to make him lust for you, or to get him greedy.”

She nodded, then unlocked the door with a copy she had made when she first met Angelo. She turned back around to look at Harry but he was gone yet his presence was felt. She went inside.

“Angelo?” She screamed into the house. A lanky man came running though, shock written all over his face as he came face to face with his boss.

“Boss? I-” His voice was scared until Y/n crashed into his arms, fake tears running down her cheeks.

“Angelo, th-these men came into my house and they almost killed me. I-I was cornered I could barely get out. I know they’re following me and I have no one who I trust more than you.” She looked up at Angelo, he had a terrible poker face and she could seem the gleam in his eye. “Please, I need your help. I need you Angleo.”

“It’s okay, darling. I got you.” He got her into a hug lucky because Y/n couldn’t hold back on the disgust written on her face. When Angleo said the name, it was terrible, it just didn’t sound right.

“You’ve always been there for me. Please, let me make it up to you.” She broke away from his hug but placed her hands on his cheek, leaning in slowly.

“Oh, you, you don’t have to…do that.” His breathing was more irregular. She paused less than an inch away from his lips.

“I want to.” She said, “Do you?”

“Yes.” He admitted but before their lips could touch he howled in great pain, falling to the floor.

Harry appeared behind Y/n, a sly smile on his face. His eyes were extra red, almost as if his iris was made of blood. “Finally.”

“Harry?” Angelo weezed.

Harry stepped forward from behind her shadow and knelt down to Angelo. “That’s right. Oh don’t get like that. You just lost that’s it.”

“How?”

“Because you made someone very important up here mad, and I took notice.” Harry shrugged. “Now go cry to god or whatever emptiness you’re going to face.”

Harry stood up and kicked him. He turned back to Y/n who also had a smile on his face. Harry felt that weird pang in his chest again. He locked eyes with her, both taking a step forward, embracing each other.

They kissed, hard. Harry never understood what it meant to kiss someone passionately like it was described in the books he read long ago, but now he did. His hand wandered, so did hers. She walked him backwards until he fell onto the couch, causing Y/n to straddle his lap.

“Fuck, Harry.” She tasted sweet oddly enough, and as Harry found himself getting more addicted the more the pain in his chest arrived. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to live without you.”

Harry broke from the kiss, looking her in the eye and nodded, kissing her deeply again. He needed to find a way to get Lucifer back, a way for him to not be King of Hell anymore, a way to stay with Y/n. He prayed for some way to make him alive, to make him be able to be with her.

“I’ll stay. I’ll stay forever–”

His voice stopped working. His throat got immensely dry. He could feel the way that Y/n smiled against his mouth, breaking away to look at Harry. He looked up to her, confused and partly terrified.

“That sounds like repenting to me.” She tsked. “That’s a big no no, Harry.”

Harry’s hands clawed at her for some comfort, he didn’t know what was happening to him. He felt scared for the first time after his death.

“Turns out killing Angels and Devils is easy.” She smiled. “Angels you have to make sin, and Devils you have to make repent. Who knew?”

Harry never felt betrayed like this before. He always knew in his living life he was a hopeless romantic, he just couldn’t believe the Devil version of him is one too. He should’ve known Y/n would do this to him, she's just as cruel as he is, or was.

“I’m sorry. You probably are my soulmate.” Her words did sound sorrowful, more than her acting with Angelo. “But this is about survival, Harry. And I owed a great debt to you that couldn’t have been paid off with one Angel’s death.”

Harry’s vision started to close, he knew the last thing he would ever see would be the devil, shining up above him with a face he so badly wanted to kiss. His last thoughts were that he didn’t regret this, saving her. He would gladly die a thousand deaths if it meant she would live, if he could kiss her just once.

“I’ll see you down there, Harry.”

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