#who loves hanging above doorways

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer // mammon (you are here) // levi // satan // asmo // beel // belphie -- others coming soon, NSFW warning below, gn!reader

mammon, who falls for you slowly, then all at once. whose taunts and general disregard for your safety lessen after he forms a pact with you. suddenly he's finding excuses to linger in your doorway, to join conversations you're having with beel or levi just to make sure you're not getting too friendly with them. he's greedy with you. watching his brothers mingle with you sparks a strange sense of protectiveness in him he doesn't bother to hide.

mammon, who naturally gravitates towards you. he understands the need for alone time, but more often than not his free days are spent by your side. he still loves the casinos and the parties, but nowadays he's trying to convince you to join or not going at all. poker's not as fun when you're not by his side, breathing onto his neck as you strain to get a peek at his cards. clubs are only worth going to when you'll join him on the dancefloor, hips swaying against his to the music. it's hot. he's addicted and he doesn't even feel guilty.

mammon, who doesn't even realize he's been ignoring his usual friends with benefits arrangements. the people in his phone have been sending their usual late night texts, and he swipes them away on instinct. his eyes glaze over as he scrolls through naughty photos in his messages. what was once enticing now simply seems dull, and he doesn't know why-- or, at least, he won't admit it to himself. he'll head out occasionally to meet a succubus he knows, but the encounters seem less fulfilling nowadays.

mammon, who fucks his fist to the thought of you. sweat drips down his face as his movements grow desperate, pausing to spit into his hand just so he can get lost in the idea of his palm being your hot, tight little hole clenching around his cock. his panting is loud, aimless calls of your name echoing through his room. his hips buck steadily into his clenched fist. all he can think about it what it would feel like to have you under him, bent over the hood of his car, your moans like music to his ears as he fucks you until you can't speak. he imagines the way you'll gasp as he slips inside of you, your whines when he slows his pace to a crawl to feel his cock drag against your walls, the way you'll cry out in pleasure when he slams back into you and fucks you as feverishly as he wants. cum spills all over his fingers and stomach, painting his hot skin white when he finally reaches climax, shaking a little in desperation as he realizes how badly he's craving you.

mammon, who can't get off to the thought of anyone else. every explicit video, homemade or otherwise, is just a cheap imitation of you. he's not above searching for videos with performers that look like you, that do the things he wants to do to you or vice versa. he hangs out in your room on a regular basis only to retreat back to his den hard and aching against his jeans. he satisfies himself night after night with toys and his hands until, finally, the pieces fall into place and you end up underneath him during a movie. he feels dizzy as he slides into you, your soft noises making the moment feel ethereal in the low light. his couch squeaks a little as he thrusts into you, but he can't bring himself to notice anything outside of the way your lips fall open, the way your body squirms under him, the way he will never be able to get off without thinking of this moment again.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #otome

[mydearzero]

Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good. 

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite. 

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged. 

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last. 

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him. 

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie. 

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that. 

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door. 

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van. 

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did. 

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman." 

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve. 

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though. 

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do." 

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs. 

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly. 

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment. 

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up. 

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?” 

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair. 

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?” 

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie? 

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future. 

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie? 

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’ 

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck. 

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with. 

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie? 

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?" 

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at? 

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex. 

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know. 

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder. 

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you. 

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling. 

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did. 

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing. 

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was. 

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine. 

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window. 

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking. 

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly. 

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road. 

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up. 

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening? 

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again? 

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds. 

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well? 

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived. 

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body. 

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside. 

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs. 

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here. 

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his. 

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall. 

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show." 

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly. 

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you. 

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion. 

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator. 

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy." 

"Good girl." 

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again. 

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something. 

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself. 

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on." 

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible. 

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one." 

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged. 

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"  

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy." 

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me." 

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall. 

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor. 

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly. 

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed. 

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt. 

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ. 

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses. 

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock. 

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero. 

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned. 

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences." 

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat. 

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust. 

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?" 

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up. 

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone. 

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself. 

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible. 

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin. 

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled. 

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours. 

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you. 

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing." 

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly. 

"I think I'll manage." 

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration. 

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress. 

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?" 

#eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #Eddie Munson fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #x reader

[demonpiratehuntress]

mistletoe

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - jumping on the mistletoe bandwagon, their reactions to finding themselves under the mistletoe with you

warnings - none

a/n: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I don't but I wanted to wish everyone else :)

ZORO

You would be lying if you said you didn't plan all week mostly trying to get Zoro under mistletoe with you. Coming up with excuses to get him in a doorway seemed near impossible, but after a very long few days of thinking, you had your plan set.

"Zorooooooo~"

The swordsman groaned, knowing exactly what that sing-song call meant for him. It could only spell mischief, and he popped open an eye to peer at you curiously.

"What do you want, woman?" He grumbled.

You pouted, "Come onnnnn, lighten up! It's Christmas!" You tugged on his arm. "Pleaseeee?"

He sighed loudly, "Fine."

He let you pull him up and drag him along, silently cursing his willingness to go along with whatever silly endeavor you chose for each day. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to just sleep, he loved you enough to participate in your silly antics.

When you suddenly stopped and pointed upwards, Zoro was confused. Then he looked up, and his eyes found some mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe.

"Seriously?" He looked back at you, frowning.

You rolled your eyes, "Fine, I'll go get Sanji."

That was enough to make him growl and grab your waist, tugging you forward so you were against his chest. You giggled innocently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You're so annoying," he complained, but kissed you anyway.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, pouring as much love as he could into it. Usually these kisses were brief, but he drew it out and kissed you for longer than you expected, effectively knocking the wind out of you when you pulled away.

"Now can I nap in peace?"

ACE

This man right here is perhaps the only one in this list that does not need to be dragged under it. He is the one carrying it around, putting it over two people's heads randomly and then running off giggling when they yell and chase him. But he will also put it over your head and his, although it took him a few tries.

"(Nameeeee)! Look what I got!"

Your energetic boyfriend bounded into the room you were busy in, holding something behind his back. He pouted when you didn't even look up, before repeatedly tapping your arm to get your attention.

"(Name), (Name), (Name)..."

He's like a little kid. So eventually you give in and look at him, only to see him raise something and hold it above yours and his heads. You blush madly upon seeing what it was, feeling butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. The fiery commander smiled innocently, and you couldn't help but giggle as you pulled away from your work to indulge him, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

"Well, look what we have here," you smirked.

"I know, what a coincidence," he shot you a goofy grin, leaning in.

"I'm not complaining."

You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercely and hotly. He reciprocated immediately, making sure to keep the mistletoe hanging above as he cupped your cheek in his free hand, smiling against your lips. He loved kisses like these, energetic and passionate but also loving and adoring.

"That was by far the best response I've gotten to hanging this over people's heads."

"Oh my god, Ace!" you giggled, realising why everyone had been out for Ace's blood today. You shook your head at his antics, pecking his lips one more time before going back to work.

LAW

The complete opposite of Ace, Law is the hardest to get under the mistletoe. He is always cooped up in his room, working, and barely leaves. So you have to do some really deep thinking and planning to get this stubborn man to kiss you under the mistletoe.

Of course, he has to leave his room for meals, so you decide to strike at breakfast on Christmas.

You failed to account for the fact that Law was the most observant person to ever exist, and that he would easily spot the mistletoe you not-so-secretly hid above his doorway. He did find it, and called you first - knowing full well this was one of your shenanigans.

"(Name)-ya, what's that?"

You swallowed nervously and looked up, letting out a nervous chuckle, "I have no idea how that got there."

"Uh huh," he hummed, stepping closer to you. "Look me in the eye and say that again."

You couldn't. And now you were getting too nervous to even just grab him and kiss him, but little did you know that was part of his plan. He was flipping the switch, turning the tables on you and making it seem as if it was his idea.

"Well, you know the rule," he said casually, leaning closer to you. "I'm waiting."

Your face turned a dark shade of red at that, and you fidgeted with your shirt anxiously before leaning in to meet him halfway, letting your lips touch his gently. He was the one who deepened it, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Law, when he wanted to be, could be just as mischievous, if not more.

SANJI

I take it back, Sanji is the easiest to get under the mistletoe. In fact, he is the one planting the mistletoe everywhere in hopes of getting to snag a kiss from you at one point. Little did he expect, his plan would backfire quite miserably. Because instead of walking into the kitchen with you, you got stuck in the doorway with Usopp under the mistletoe, because Usopp had tried to get out the same time you tried to go in.

"YOU LONG-NOSED SNAKE-"

Sanji was fuming, throwing a tantrum as you just giggled and pecked the sniper's cheek, earning an embarrassed blush from him as he scuttled off.

"Babe-"

"Next one is mine, I swear!"

That did not happen. You just happened to be walking out of the aquarium when Zoro walked in, and Sanji almost fainted when the two of you landed under the mistletoe.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"Rules are rules, twirly brows," Zoro smirked, enjoying this solely because it irritated the hell out of Sanji. As the blonde fumed and threw another tantrum, you gave Zoro a quick peck on the cheek as well before moving on.

Only after you had given Luffy, Brook, Franky and Chopper cheek kisses as well did Sanji FINALLY get you under the mistletoe, but by then he was in tears. Crying over how badly he'd planned this.

"Come here you," you laughed and pulled him close by the collars of his shirt, smashing your lips against his. You kissed him fervently, showing him that you'd been waiting for this kiss the most. He eventually relaxed and kissed you back just as passionately, locking his arms around your waist.

"About damn time."

KAKU

Oh, boy. The ratio of boys to girls in the CP9 team is horrible. There are two women, compared to six men. That's excluding Spandam, because you never included him in these things. But still, it was quite difficult for Kaku to surprise you with mistletoe because of the rare chance of getting you to walk where he placed it without you figuring it out.

Oh well.

So, begrudgingly, Khalifa agreed to help him out. Knowing it wouldn't be suspicious if she led you through a specific doorway, you followed her easily without questioning it.

That is, until she stopped outside the doorway and you entered at the same time as Kaku was trying to leave. The CP9 swordsman blushed, thankful that this worked, and shyly gestured up towards the mistletoe. Your eyes widened, before your own blush formed on your cheeks.

He is so so shy, you are the one who actually makes the move. He may have planted the mistletoe, but he is too nervous and flustered to actually lean in and kiss you, so you have to grab him by the zipper of his jacket and tug him down to meet you at eye-level.

"It's cute that you planned it out," you smiled innocently, knowing about it since Khalifa was not great at hiding what her task was.

"How did you-" He looked at Khalifa, who just shrugged and turned away. He blushed harder, "I didn't want to get anyone else under here by accident."

His admission made you giggle, "Fair enough."

Then you leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply, angling your face away from his long nose after multiple experiences of your kisses being ruined by your eye being poked. His arms slipped around your waist and he lifted you up slightly, since he was much taller, and kissed you even deeper than you had kissed him.

"Get a room!" Jabra yelled, which you both ignored.

LUFFY

At least everyone else on this list actually knows what mistletoe is. Poor Luffy was so confused by the concept when Nami brought it up a few days before, and even explaining it to him didn't help. Unfortunately, on the day of Christmas, before anyone could actually show him what it was, Luffy had already eaten like three of the four plants that were strung up randomly around the ship.

"Luffy!" Nami scolded, "They're not food!"

Sanji had set them up, not knowing your dear captain would be oblivious enough to consume them, though he should have known better. Fortunately, since the cook was desperately trying to get either Robin or Nami to kiss him, he had spares.

"It's mistletoe, Luffy," you giggled as you took his hand and guided him to where Sanji had hung a surprise one for you and Luffy.

"What does it do?" He blinked, so very cutely confused.

"Well," you began, stopping under the doorway with the mistletoe, "You have to kiss the person you end up under the mistletoe with." As you said it, you blushed hard.

"But why?" Luffy asked. "Can't I just kiss you anyway?"

You laughed at that, blushing more, "You can, but it's more like...a cute tradition."

"Oh," he nodded, looking like he understood. He did not.

"Luffy," you sighed, pointing up at the plant.

He looked up, got excited and reached for it...only to have you slap his hand away.

"Don't eat it!"

Before he could respond, you tugged him against you by his waistcoat and kissed him deeply, successfully distracting him from his mission to apparently consume all the mistletoe you owned. He wrapped his arms around you excitedly and kissed you messily, but you didn't mind because he was just very eager.

"I get it now!"

USOPP

Like Kaku, Usopp is an extremely shy, flustered boy. He is so nervous all the time and when Robin off-handedly mentions mistletoe a day before Christmas, Usopp almost faints. He has kissed you before, but the idea of setting it up and leading you to it had his knees knocking together, his legs becoming two wavy lines.

"Usopp!" You called excitedly, rushing to find your boyfriend. While he was so nervous about the mistletoe, you had no such qualms and even blatantly waved it around over your head. "Look what I found!"

When you reached him, you smiled innocently as you held the little plant over your heads, grabbing his hand to pull him close.

"And what exactly do you have there?" He asked, feigning confusion.

You raised an eyebrow, then smirked, "Are you getting shy on me again? How cute." You kissed his cheek, making him protest.

"Is that my kiss?! That is so unfair, how can you just-"

You cut him off by actually kissing him, effectively shutting him up and drowning out his complaints. You kissed him deeply, much more passionately than your usual kisses and giggled when his legs almost gave out from under him.

"I-I was gonna do that..."

"Uh huh."

#one piece #op #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x you #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d luffy #one piece kaku #kaku x reader #kaku x you #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp #one piece x reader #one piece x you

[lovebugism]

congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him. 

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down. 

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited. 

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him. 

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal. 

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen. 

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer. 

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either. 

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave. 

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a  warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it. 

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead. 

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shot Through The Heart II

Alexia Putellas x Archer!Reader

Summary: The story of your love

A camera pans down from the treeline to focus on an unassuming house on an unassuming street in an unassuming part of Barcelona. It zooms in to the front door, swinging open and investigates the hallway - passing by a collection of family photos, a World Cup medal framed along with a bow and arrow mounted above a doorway.

It turns sharply to the left to an open plan lounge that borders a kitchen.

An interviewer is sitting in an armchair facing you and Alexia, snuggled on the sofa.

"You caused quite a stir," The interviewer says," When you both posted on Instagram. I guess my first question is, how did it begin?"

Alexia chuckles. "We shared a garden. It was one of those old gardens where the end of it shared a fence with the neighbour behind you. I kicked my football over it."

"And I shot it, pinned it to the fence and everything."

"I climbed that same fence to get it back. And we just stared at each other. Then, I burst into tears."

●～●～●～●～

The girl who just climbed over your fence stared at you.

You stared back, brows pulled together in confusion.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she pointed an accusing finger at you. "What did you do to my ball?!"

You pointed to where your arrow had pinned it to the fence. "I shot it." You put your hands on your hips. "You shouldn't kick balls over my fence if you don't want them shot!"

The girl burst into tears, sobbing hysterically and you jolted in shock. You glanced back at your house in worry before you frantically unpinned the ball from the fence.

"Sorry! Sorry!" You said, holding the ball out to her," Stop crying! Look! Here! Take your stupid ball!" You threw it at her.

She caught it, turning it over in her hand as it began to very slightly deflate. She pointed at your bow. "What's that?"

"It's my bow," You replied, before puffing out your chest," I'm an archer."

"I'm a footballer."

"Cool."

"You bow's kind of cool too."

"I'm y/n."

"Alexia."

●～●～●～●～

"So not the best first meeting," The interviewer jokes.

You shake you head. "Not the best but we ended up getting on after that. Our Papas had to knock down the fence and replace it with a door so we didn't have to keep climbing to see each other."

"I think your dad still has the scar," Alexia replies and you roll your eyes.

"It all worked out though. We attended the same schools, sat together in class, ate together at lunch. We walked home together too."

"And was it difficult to find time to hang out together while you were both training?"

Alexia thinks back to it and shakes her head. "We would walk home together after school and our mamas would take it in turns to drive each of us to practice."

"La Masia was closer so Alexia always got out first but I finished earlier so we would get driven back home with each other too."

"Sometimes we'd have sleepovers."

The interviewer smiles. "And when did your romantic relationship start?"

"We were sixteen. Alexia asked me."

●～●～●～●～

Alexia was late. You weren't entirely sure why but she was. You glanced at the clock, tapping your foot impatiently. You couldn't stay long, you had a competition that your Papa was taking you to - you had gotten the rest of the day off school.

The canteen was filling up with students and you glanced at the clock again. You sighed, checking your phone. No messages from Alexia.

It wasn't like her to ghost you like this but you just assumed she had been asked to stay back after class.

You shouldered your bag, ready to make your way to reception to sign out and wait for your father to pull up, when a body crashed into yours.

Alexia curled around you, head in your neck. You felt her grinning.

"You're late," You informed her," I have to get going."

She retreated from your embrace, lacing your fingers together and walked with you to reception. She waited as you signed out and joined you outside when you went for your Papa to arrive.

You could feel her staring at your side profile, not looking away.

"What?"

"You're so pretty."

You rolled your eyes. "You're pretty too, Alexia."

She shook her head in annoyance as if trying to gather her thoughts. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. "Date me."

●～●～●～●～

The interviewer laughs. "So, not much of a question then."

You laugh too. "I knew what she meant. It was a no brainer to say yes."

"I wanted to take her to the movies," Alexia says," But my Mama told me that if I wanted to go, I had to take Alba so we just ended up in the park."

"We spent hours there, though," You continue," And we ended up at this cute little café that we always go back to. It was run by this cute old couple that had been together for years. They're gone now but their son took over."

"We used to sit there all the time and do our homework when we didn't have practice. He watched us grow up. We get free doughnuts when we go there now."

Your hands draw circles on Alexia's arms as you hum, watching the interviewer lap up all the information.

"And, obviously, Alexia you ended up at Barca but y/n...You went to South Korea?"

You laugh at her shock. "Yeah, Korea's pretty damned good at archery. In fact, my trainer when I was younger came from there originally so he recommended I head over. I mean, I've trained all around the world for archery but the Koreans are dedicated. They're extremely good and I'm honoured that I got the chance to try and keep up with them."

"And how did the long distance work? Was it difficult?"

●～●～●～●～

Alexia's offseason never lasts really long. Between club duties and country duties, she was always on the pitch.

Your schedule was a bit more lenient, allowing you to train anywhere you wanted although you mainly stayed in Korea. You flew to France a few times a year, a brief two-month stay in the US, a couple of weeks in Spain and then back to Korea again.

It was rare that she had this kind of time off so, there you were, waiting at Incheon airport for the love of your life to get through the doors.

She crashed into you as soon as she spotted you. You held her tight, nose buried into her hair as you breathed her in.

"I missed you, amor," She said.

"Not as much as I missed you," You replied.

You pulled back, taking her cheeks in your hands and pulling her in for a long, sweet kiss - trying to put all of your longing and love into it.

"I missed you," You said again as you took Alexia's hand in your own while your other grabbed her bags.

You brought her back to your apartment, dumping the suitcase in the lounge before turning to look at Alexia. It wasn't the first time she had been in your apartment but she still marvelled over it like it was.

Her hands ghosted over the pictures of her mantelpiece - particularly the one with you and her at school, grinning at the camera like two crazy people. Your bow leaned up against the tv and a medal hung from a hook attached to a magnet on your fridge.

"I watched this competition," She said as she poked the medal," I couldn't understand anything the commentators were saying but you looked really good in your uniform."

You sent her a lopsided smile. "You think I looked good?"

"Hmm." She sauntered over, her hands coming to rest in your back pockets. "Very good. Made me a little upset that I wasn't there to congratulate you." She raised a brow and your throat bobbed.

"Well..." You said, glancing at the clock - you had a reservation at your favourite barbeque place soon," You scored a fantastic goal last week. I...I think I'd like to congratulate you too."

Alexia gave you a wolfish smile. "Good..." She turned around. "Bedroom still in the same place?"

●～●～●～●～

"We made it work," Alexia says.

"I earned a lot of air miles," You boast," I'm still cashing them in." You grin lazily. "Our trip to Greece was bought off those miles."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "She'll tell anyone who listens about that but it's true. We spent a lot of time flying out to see each other whenever we could. I think we saw each other more than we saw our parents."

You laugh, resting your head on Alexia's shoulder. "I think I once told my parents not to fly out to see me because you were already on the plane."

"And, obviously, one of you proposed. How did that happen?"

"I proposed."

●～●～●～●～

It was a beautiful night. Not too hot. Not too cold. You'd made sure of it, comparing the weather forecast for days before selecting the one you wanted.

You took her out on a walk. You bought her lunch.

Every time she smiled at you, your heart fluttered and you had to look away. You wanted to spring the question each time but you had planned this. You didn't want to ruin it.

"Not that I'm complaining," Alexia said as she followed you onto the balcony of the fancy hotel room you had rented," But what gives? Was there something special today? Something I've forgotten about?"

"Can't I just do something nice for you?"

"You've been doing a lot of nice things. A walk. Lunch. A shopping spree. Dinner and now a hotel room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

You grinned at her. "Is it working?"

"You don't need to seduce me," She said," I don't keep you around for just the sex."

You scoff in jest, a dramatic hand on your heart. "But you keep me around partly for the sex? Alexia!"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You know I keep you around because I love you."

"I should hope so," You said. Your hand dipped into your pocket and dropped to one knee. "Because otherwise, this would be really embarrassing."

●～●～●～●～

"We got married within the month," Alexia says," We eloped. I don't even think we told our parents we even got engaged."

"Your Mama grabbed me by the ear and yelled at me for hours," You laugh, rubbing your ear in phantom pain," I think she thought that I could have stopped you from dragging me to that courthouse."

"I..." Alexia's face glows red as she speaks. "I just didn't want to wait. In all honesty, for us, it already felt like we were married, we'd been together for so many years that getting the marriage certificate signed seemed like just the final checkbox. I didn't need a big wedding or anything. We love each other. What more needed to be done?"

"Her mother still holds it against me."

"Mama is being dramatic." Alexia rolls her eyes. "She got to hold her little party for us."

"We snuck a way for that too," You say to the interviewer," For someone that didn't want a wedding, she was very eager to get to the honeymoon."

"We bought that on her air miles too."

Everyone in the room laughs at that.

"So, childhood sweethearts," The interviewer summarises.

"Childhood sweethearts," You confirm. Alexia moves a bit closer to you, leaning her head on your shoulder after pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"And, now you're living together in Barcelona. Is it a big adjustment after so many years of long distance?"

"It's a good adjustment," Alexia says," It feels good to finally be in the same place as each other, permanently."

"She likes that I get the groceries," You joke.

"Oh, yes," She says with a grin," It's what I keep her around for."

You stick your tongue out.

So does she.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso

[theemporium]

james potter x (sirius' younger sister) reader where he knows about it but they love making his life miserable by always being on top of each other or doing cute couple things and making out whenever he enters the room (bonus point if they use the map to make sure he's coming in)

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

If there was one thing you learnt befriending the marauders, it was to love a good prank.

From small, stupid pranks that would make you giggle to long haul ones that made you laugh until your stomach had stitches, you loved a prank. You loved being a part of them. You loved planning them. You loved having a group of friends who were able to be so carefree and unbothered around each other, healthy enough to prank each other regularly and prank others together. 

However, what you never accounted for was that these silly little pranks would lead you to fall in love with someone. And for that someone to be your brother’s best friend.

Despite what Sirius thought, your relationship with James Potter was not an ongoing prank. It was real, realer than any relationship you had ever had before. You loved him and he downright adored you like you were the best thing on this Earth, and that was just something Sirius would have to get used to. 

Not that you and James didn’t have your fun with your brother’s overdramatic, theatrical reactions.

It had been subtle things to wind him up at first. 

Like sitting beside each other during meals with James’ arm around your shoulder and sometimes feeding each other little bites until Sirius would eventually try and wiggle his way to sit between the two of you. 

Like wearing James’ jersey for quidditch games rather than his and watching as the boy claimed it a betrayal of the highest order that his sister had switched sides.

Like casually sitting on James’ lap when the group are hanging around the common room, even  when there are seats free, because you two like to cuddle up on the armchair with a blanket thrown over your laps whilst Sirius yells for no funny business. 

Sometimes, you’re prepared for it and you like to toy with your brother. After showing you the marauders map, it wasn’t rare for you and James to just set up wee scenarios when you knew your brother would walk in. 

But sometimes, it was just purely by accident that Sirius would walk in but that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of it.

“It’s too fucking hot,” you groaned as you threw your body down onto your boyfriend’s bed, only to groan when the feeling of the sheets against your sweaty skin was anything but satisfying. 

“You say this every time we get a heatwave after complaining how we have no good weather up here,” James mused as he rummaged through his chest for a shirt. 

“You’re meant to be on my side, Potter,” you grumbled, lifting your head to glare at him. 

“My mistake,” he said, abandoning his search as he began to crawl over towards you until his hands were pressed against either side of your head and his face was hovering above yours. “You are always right, my love, always.” 

Your lips twitched. “Better?” 

“Not enough?” James let out a heavy sigh before a grin spread across his face. “Well, that just won’t do.” 

Before you could complain any further, James was dipping his head down to press his lips against yours. You smiled against his mouth, your arms wounding around his neck to pull him a little closer as his tongue teased yours. 

“You’re too warm,” you murmured between kisses, your eyes falling shut as he began to trail soft pecks along your jaw. “Why are you a bloody heater?” 

“You love it during winter,” he mused before lifting his head, his eyes sparkling with an idea you knew would make your thighs clench. “Why don’t we sneak off to the lake? The water will be cold and—” 

“MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Both of you whipped your heads around to find Sirius standing in the doorway, blanching and gagging as he recoiled and covered his eyes. He let out a dramatic cry, something quite like a garbled sound of discontent. 

“Fucking hell, Pads, got some lungs on you there,” James joked, clearly unbothered by the fact he had just walked in on you two. He could have seen much worse. 

“What is wrong with you both?!” Sirius yelled, finally opening his eyes to look at you two between narrowed eyes. “Lock the fucking door!” 

There was a pause. 

“Actually no, you shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place!” He huffed out before pointing at you. “You shouldn’t even be here, full stop.” 

You rolled your eyes at your older brother. “Blah, blah, blah.” 

“Calm your tits, Pads,” James muttered before he pulled himself off the bed, taking your hand and helping you up too. “We were leaving anyways.” 

Sirius frowned a little. “Good—” 

“Your sister has a lil’ one piece she wants to show me—” 

“PRONGS!” 

“It’s her favourite swimming costume,” James said with an innocent smile. “What did you think I was talking about?” 

“You’re evil,” Sirius said with his lips turned downwards. “Both of you. I’m telling Euphemia about this.”

.

#james potter #marauders #harry potter #hp #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot

[whirlybirbs]

BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 

ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear. 

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 

You hope it all works out for her in the end. 

But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 

And so this has been home for the last four months. 

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers. 

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131. 

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door. 

Your boots follow in a trail. 

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo. 

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too. 

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London. 

1977, huh. Zaniac. 

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 

And he's here, wasting his damn time. 

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 

He has to... He...

He needs you back. 

Now. 

#beyond the void #from the void with love #loki x reader #loki x doc #loki x y/n #loki reader insert #loki/reader #loki/you #loki imagine #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #loki season 2 fic #marvel fanfic

[finelinevogue]

Hi ellie! happy first day of the Christmas month!! I hope you are all cozy and comfy at home!

The other day I saw a super cute video from this tiktok couple cam.and.mal, where he puts up mistletoe everywhere in the house (like every door way, fan, light etc.) so they will always be kissing, thought that's super cute :))

loooove your writing by the way!! Your masterlist has always been my little comfort corner, sending love and hugs!!

christmassy kisses

hi!!! omg happy 1st day of christmas and thank you so much for the request <333 this is such an adorable idea and i am on it right now <333 p.s. you’re amazing xo

word count : -600

pairing : youtuber!reader x harry

As soon as you walked through the front door you were stopped.

You noticed Harry first, of course, in his hoodie and joggers. Behind him was your editor, Pippa, holding up her phone to film you two.

“What’s going on?” You asked suspiciously.

“Look up, babe.” Harry said.

You tilted your head up, expecting some slime or paint to fall, but instead there was some fake mistletoe.

“Mistletoe?” You asked, opening the door wider.

Harry didn’t let you in very far though, making sure you waited in the doorway.

“Guess we’ll have to kiss then.” Harry shrugged his shoulders and cupped your cheeks, bringing you towards him for a proper kiss. Not too intense, seeing as Pippa was here and she’s probably filming content for you.

“Interesting welcome home.” You laughed, smiling at Harry who looked very pleased with himself.

“It’s only because it’s Christmas, and I love you.”

You shut the front door behind you as you walked in, taking note of how Harry and Pippa are still standing around and looking suspicious.

“Seriously, what are you two up to?”

You took off your coat and hung it up on the coat hanger, before walking to the bedroom to change into a comfier hoodie - preferably one of Harry’s.

When you approached your bedroom door, you noticed the mistletoe hanging above it too.

“What the —”

“Don’t worry, i’ll kiss you again.” Harry smiled and leant down to kiss you again. He looked super chuffed with himself, like his plan was succeeding or something.

“H, bub, have you hung up mistletoe everywhere just so you have the excuse of kissing me?” You asked, standing close to him with Pippa still filming.

“Maybe.”

Instead of responding, you ran to find the next one. You stood under the en-suite bathroom door and patiently waited for Harry to come over.

He laughed once he caught on to how eager you were, becoming more eager himself. He gladly wandered over to you and gave you a loving kiss, filled with giggles.

“Best idea ever.” You praised him.

“Why?”

“We get to kiss more than ever!”

“We already do, baby.” Harry laughed, hugging you against his body tight to embrace all your sunshine energy.

“But this time they’re Christmassy kisses.” You argued.

“You’re right, m’love. I’ll give you all the Christmassy kisses you could ever want.”

“Deal.” You said, running off to find the next piece of mistletoe.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #christmas harry styles #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles winter fic #harry styles mistletoe

[hottpinkpenguin]

okay okay but that prompt “give me something to dream about” with steamy/fluff nikolai? yes please

A/n: hear you go anon! Hope you love it. Nikolai is SOO easy to write for!! ♥️

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1622 | Warnings: steam, angst

You watched Alina Starkov’s long, dark hair swish from side to side as she stormed off from Nikolai’s side with an indignant huff. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself as you watched her stomp out of his private map room. You ducked out of the dimly lit doorway that the palace servants used as the girl everyone called a Saint spluttered past you without a backwards glance. She was small in person: short and slender with a youthful face. Pretty, but not beautiful. She had grit, you couldn’t deny her that. Maybe in a different world, and if she hadn’t just been proposed to by the love of your life, you would have been friends.

The door to Nikolai’s map room closed loudly. Not quite a slam, but Alina used just enough force to convey her displeasure. Plunged into quiet, you peeped around the corner at your prince. He was standing opposite the table, leaning on it with his hands splayed along its surface and his head hanging in defeat. For a brief moment, you wondered if he wanted to see you tonight.

“Show’s over, Tiger. You can come out now.”

You shot Nikolai a pouty glare as you came out from your hiding place. You knew he’d known you were there, although you felt sheepish to be caught.

“Come here.” He gestured for you. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but also a note of eagerness. He needed you. His usually pristine military jacket was unbuttoned, and in the soft candlelight you could see a sliver of his chest peaking out above the neckline of his white linen undershirt. He raked a hand through his hair, knocking loose a few pieces that fell haphazardly over his brow. You swallowed, suddenly your mind buzzing at the sight of him. If Alina Starkov was a Saint, then Nikolai Lantsov was a goddamn angel.

“How’d it go, Pirate Prince?” You shot Nikolai a flirty smile, winking at him and using the nickname you knew he hated. You tried to keep your tone light to hide the fact that your chest felt like it was a fraction of an inch from caving on itself.

He grimaced at you, stepping around the large table with war maps and heavy tomes of Ravkan history sprawled across its surface. With strong, sure arms he swept you up into a rib crushing embrace, spinning you around and burying his head in your hair.

“Swimmingly,” he replied gruffly. “She almost smacked me.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. You’d not-so-secretly been hoping that Nikolai wouldn’t follow through on his plan to propose marriage to Alina Starkov. No matter how many times he promised you that the proposal was just a calculated political move, you’d never be anything but bitter. You knew Nikolai too well to seriously convince yourself that he would balk at the last moment, especially when the fate of his country lay in jeopardy, even if his heart did lie with you. But that hadn’t kept you from dreaming, hoping against hope.

He must have caught the flicker of sorrow in your eyes. He released you from his arms, hooking a thumb under your chin and gently lifting your face until he held your gaze.

“You know this isn’t what I want, Tiger.” His voice was low, smooth as silk, and devastatingly sincere.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t argue with him, not again. Not over this. Who knew how long you had to be relatively free with your affections for him. Even though the two of you kept your romance private, that was purely a matter of preference. If (when, you forcibly corrected yourself) Nikolai actually married Alina, you’d have to take extra care to avoid being detected. Maybe to the point of going your separate ways indefinitely. You refused to waste what precious little time you had left bickering over an inevitable.

You tried to push that darkness out of your mind, forcing a gentle smile onto your face. Nikolai’s snow-blue eyes danced at the sight.

“I know, Nikki,” you replied softly. He chuckled, recognizing the pet name you used only when the two of you were alone. You felt his hand press against your lower back, pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, eagerly meeting his lips with yours. His mouth was warm and soft, the feel of him so familiar. The kiss was quick - tender with a hint of the playfulness you were both using to glaze over the deeper hurts. But it was delicious all the same. You let yourself enjoy it, twining your hands in the soft hair at the back of his neck and dancing your tongue along his bottom lip. He smiled against you, one hand cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss. You let him, for a moment, before you pulled back. You were teasing him, admittedly, and you could see it in the feral desire burning in his eyes.

“Saints be damned,” he muttered breathlessly, raking his gaze all over you. “You’re going to drive me mad, woman.”

You laughed, tipping your head back as a shiver ran up your spine at the gravel in his voice. Nikolai tucked his head against your exposed throat, laying down a line of featherlight kisses up under your jawline and towards your ear. When he reached your ear, he paused, nuzzling you gently. You ran your fingernails down from his hairline along the back of his neck and out across his broad shoulders. You felt his muscles release under your touch as he exhaled deeply.

“You need a warm bath, my Lord,” you informed him, kneading his shoulders to emphasize the tightness there. He groaned appreciatively at the sensation.

“That sounds nice,” he admitted, pulling back slightly and resting his hands on your hips. “But only if you join me.”

That mischievous glint in his eyes drove you absolutely wild. You could feel a warm jolt of desire begin to burn in your core. Nikolai sensed it somehow, smirking as if he could feel your lust. Something about the way he was devouring you with his eyes made you pause. You knew that, in a few more moments, you’d be lost to his touch and completely senseless with bliss. He knew it too, and he was hungry for it. You both were. But first, you had something to say.

“I won’t be your mistress, Nikolai. When you marry her. I love you, but I can’t do that to myself. To either of us.”

Your words were heavy, but your tone was soft. Almost apologetic.

You felt him momentarily wind down at the seriousness in your voice. The playful smirk melted from his face, leaving behind a somber sadness. He fiddled with the ruffles on your dress’ neckline for a few moments, both of you quiet as he processed your statement. He wasn’t surprised. Nikolai knew you better than anyone. You’d asked him once why it was that he understood you so clearly. We have mirror image souls, he’d said back as if it were the simplest answer in the world. From that moment on, you’d never doubted him.

“I know, Tiger.” His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. “I don’t think I could bear it if you did.”

You lifted your eyes to him, trying to memorize the way his face looked in the candlelight. He returned your gaze calmly, and you had the sense he was trying to commit the moment to memory just like you were.

After a few moments, you smiled, forcing yourself to loosen the internal grip you had on the heartbreak you knew was coming. He’s not married now, you reminded yourself. Your fingertips traced up his arms until your hands framed his face.

“Now, let’s get back to that bath.”

He grinned, lifting you from the hips until your legs were wrapped around his waist. He clasped you against him, your hands wrapped around his neck as he carried you out of the private map room and back towards the door that connected to his sleeping quarters. He turned around briefly to close the door behind him, shutting out the worries of the future in the process.

He let you slide out of his grasp when he entered the bathroom. Even through your house slippers, the tile floor was cool underfoot. He leaned down, opening the faucets over the large bathtub. Water came cascading out, splashing into the empty tub as he stoppered the drain. He tested the water temperature with his hands as you began untying the lacings on your bodice.

He turned back to you once the water was to his liking, watching your every movement with a greedy glint in his eyes. Once you’d stripped down to your skin, you stepped over to him and helped him slide his jacket off. It fell to the ground with a metallic ting as the medals adorning the jacket’s chest clinked on the marble floor. You started unlacing his undershirt when he reached up, grabbing your hands in his. He tilted his head slightly downward, pouring into your eyes with his own.

“A request, Tiger,” he drawled. You smirked as you continued to undo his shirt.

“Anything, my Prince.” He laughed at your reply, leaning in even further until he was so close you could feel his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Give me something to dream about.”

You leaned in, meeting his kiss, your body ablaze with the intensity of his words. You wanted to make sure that Nikolai Lantsov, the first and maybe only love of your life, didn’t need to ask you twice…

#shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #shadow and bone requests #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #Nikolai lanstov imagine #Nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone Nikolai lanstov

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Sorry, I just got this image of Steve with a cheesy grin and loving the running joke about him being a parental figure with Eddie.

After Vecna, the first joke gives him a mental image of his future in the RV, and it's Eddie right there beside him. He immediately knows that he wants Eddie to be the father of his children. He just glows when the kids joke about it, and so they do it even more. Of course, it made Eddie annoyed because he's a little slow and still thinks Steve is straight, that he had zero chance with him.

Of course, by the time that Christmas rolls around, they still haven't revealed their feelings. There's a party at Steve's house, and Eddie decides to dress up as Santa as a surprise. He strolled into the living room, shaking his belly.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Eddie bellowed. "Merry Christmas! Hope all you boys and girls have been completely bad this year!"

"Eddie," Steve said with a fond grin. "Where the hell did you find an all black Santa suit?"

"I have my ways," Eddie said coyly. "And you should know that it's not Santa Claus. It's Satan Claws."

He cackled, revealing fake claws, before running off to join the others. Steve watched him, his cheeks red. Robin looked at him in disbelief.

"Unbelievable, I can't believe you're in love with this man," Robin said. "At least my love isn't crazy like him."

She had spoken too soon because a moment later, Vickie entered the house in an all black Elf costume, fangs dripping with fake blood.

"He asked me to be his elf!" Vickie exclaimed as she greeted Robin with a kiss. "It sounded like so much fun!"

"You were saying?" Steve asked as Vickie ran off.

"Well, at least I told her how I felt," Robin said. "Chicken shit."

Satan Claws were a big hit with the kids as well as his Elf. And when the party started to slow down a little, it gave Max an opportunity to talk with Eddie.

"Can I tell Satan Claws what I want for Christmas?" Max asked.

"Sure thing," Eddie said with a grin.

"You know my biggest wish isn't that I could walk again. . .no, I accepted that. What I wish for is my two dads to get their heads out of their asses and tell each other that their madly in love with each other," Max replied.

"Well, it's a huge risk for one of your dads," Eddie chuckled nervously.

"Everything in life is a risk. Getting up out of bed in the morning is a risk," Max said. "You have to decide if Steve is worth it or not."

Eddie shrieked when he felt someone grab him and move him into the doorway of the living room. Suddenly, he was standing in front of Steve, who was looking above his head. Eddie followed his line of sight and saw a mistletoe hanging above their heads.

"Look, Steve - ," Eddie started to say.

Steve grinned and pulled him in by his fake beard, kissing him. Eddie froze for a moment before deepening the kiss. He enjoyed the way Steve giggled into his mouth every time the beard tickled his chin. They weren't even bothered when the kids started to sing, "I saw Daddy kissing Satan Claws." It was all very bad. They broke apart to breathe, laughing with their heads pressed together. Steve touched the pillow under Eddie's coat.

"I work fast," Steve smirked, and Eddie giggled.

"And that boys and girls," Robin said with her finger in the air as though she were a stuffy professor. "Is why you should never kiss a metalhead. They're super, duper fertile."

"Ah," the kids said unison, nodding solemnly.

Eddie grabbed the pillow out from under his coat and threw it at her.

"Fuck off, Robin," Eddie laughed.

"I can't believe you threw your baby," Robin scoffed. "You're a terrible father."

"Don't listen to her, you're a great dad," Steve laughed.

"Aw, thanks, baby," Eddie said.

They kissed again with Robin groaning in the background and the kids starting in on another verse of the song they wrote. It was a good Christmas all around, and Steve looked forward to more to come with Eddie.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #robin x vickie #rovickie #rockie #eddie & vickie #platonic viddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet

[heartss4val]

"meet me in the graveyard."

synopsis: despite being a child of hades, you're the light of percy's life. pairing: percy jackson x gn child of hades reader headcanons. word count: 0.7k

• love at first sight, seriously. i like to think the first time you two met was when you saved him from being smashed into smithereens, and from that day on he was completely head over heels.

• before you two established a relationship, percy was constantly trying to find ways to impress you. he'll always go above and beyond when he knows you're watching because he wants to make a good impression!!

after a long day of training and unnecessarily using his powers to catch your eye, he finally decides to go up to you. and at first, he's all confident; approaching you with his chest puffed out, but the second you turn around and make eye contact with him, he's a sputtering mess.

"sooo, um, you- we-" percy stumbles over his words, his face getting red as he tries to think of something to say that wouldn't be an awkward compliment. you stare at him in pure confusion, one eyebrow raised as he struggles to get out any words. "um," percy leans against riptide, trying to play off his embarrassment. "so you have a really nice jawline-"

yeah, he doesn't know what he's doing.

• but when you first start dating, he's absolutely ecstatic!

• as the two of you progressed in your relationship, percy slowly started to discover a side of you that he didn't even know existed before. yes, you're both strong and independent, but you're also able to be vulnerable and sensitive when the situation calls for it. he trusts you with his whole heart and knows you would never try to intentionally hurt him.

• given the reputation your father has, percy's very protective of you. i mean, he knows damn well you're more than capable of fending for yourself, but new campers tend to make rash assumptions solely based on the fact that you're a child of hades.

but percy ALWAYS has your back. he's always quick to defend and set the record straight if anyone dares to speak ill of you, especially in front of new campers who may not know better. he wants to make sure you're not seen as evil-leaning simply because of your lineage.

• percy often steals glances at you while you're training. actually, no — scratch that, he's full-on staring. there's just something so mesmerizing about you, and if he could watch you practice all day, he most definitely would.

sometimes people catch him admiring you, and he'll try to cover it up by saying something like "oh, don't worry, i'm their boyfriend." and then he thinks about it a little and gets all giddy because he's like "i'm THEIR boyfriend!!!!"

(kicking his feet and giggling fr)

• some children of hades have control over precious metals and such. if you happen to specialize in that skill, percy makes the most out of it! he occasionally asks you to summon some smaller ones so he can figure out how to make it into a necklace to wear, or something along those lines.

• percy insists on helping you decorate cabin 13 for special occasions! unfortunately, despite his good intentions, his taste in decoration often contradicts the ominous atmosphere that surrounds hades cabin.

"babe, can we use the blue ones?" percy asks, holding up some blue fairy lights for you to see. "absolutely not." you answer, frowning. "it detracts from the cabin's overall feng shui." "feng who?"

one time during the holidays, percy decided to spruce up your cabin by placing a classic red and white santa hat on top of the skull hanging over the doorway of cabin 13. needless to say, you did not find it as amusing as he did.

• horror movie marathons for sure! you two watched the whole scream franchise in one sitting! unfortunately, percy isn't as adamant about horror as you are, so half of the time he's making excuses to hold you to distract himself from the jumpscares.

"are you scared? here, let me hold you." percy says, pulling you into his chest while his eyes are still glued onto the screen. "i'm not scared, perce. you seem to be though." you laugh, tossing a handful of popcorn into your mouth. "shh, it's okay," he replies, and runs his hand over your hair, except his hand is still shaking from the previous scene. LMFAOO

at the end of the movie, he has the audacity to be all like, "ugh, yeah it wasn't even scary." as if he wasn't clinging onto you moments before.

• all in all, you two are a perfect match!

a/n

i honestly love this dynamic sm :(( i hope i did it justice.

also i am on an absolute ROLL whipping out these percy fics, holy.

okok see u next time!

xx val.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff

[loverhymeswith]

Let's Be Alone Together || Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: When Tommy finds out you have a date, things don't quite go to plan.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy scheming, mention of death, not beta-read

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for part one! And a big thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer and @lorecraft for helping me talk through the ending <3

Part One

“What’s going on in here then, eh?”

The familiar male voice draws your attention away from the rumpled newspaper in your lap. You haven’t been reading it so much as worrying at the corners of the pages, a nervous habit brought on by your anxiety towards tonight. Lifting your gaze to the small mirror before you, your chest tightens as you catch sight of the figure in the doorway. Thomas Shelby might not be a large man, but his presence is always commanding. 

Your fingers stiffen, one wrong move away from tearing the paper as Tommy stalks into the kitchen, his sharp blue eyes keenly assessing the scene. While you haven’t been avoiding the head of the Shelby family per se, you had hoped not to run into him again quite so soon.

Ada pauses her ministrations behind you, having just pinned the last piece of your hair into place. “She’s got a date tonight, Tommy. We’re helping her get ready.” 

“Is that so?” Removing his cap, Tommy acknowledges Polly who is sitting beside you at the table. He pulls out a carton of cigarettes. “A date with who?”

Once again, Ada beats you to a response, the satisfaction over her matchmaking skills plainly and painfully evident. “Lewis Powell.” 

Tommy repeats the name, his tone as unreadable as his expression as he rolls a cigarette across his lips. When his gaze finds yours in the mirror, you quickly look away; the memory of those lips brushing your fingertips is still too fresh in your mind. If it hadn’t been for Finn banging on Tommy’s door four nights ago, you can’t help but wonder where else those lips could have been.

“He comes from a good family, Thomas,” Pol tells him, an unspoken warning hanging between them as she offers her nephew a light. 

“Oh, I know where he comes from.” 

“Well then, you might look happier about it,” Ada interjects, joining you and Pol at the table. “Lewis is a fine match. And plenty of women are remarrying now. Don’t you think it’s about time she gets back out there before all the good men are gone?”

Pol nods. “There’s no sense in her being alone. Not anymore.”

Cheeks warming as you fight off the prickle of irritation over being spoken about as if you’re not in the room, you return your attention to the paper. The impending date with Lewis wasn’t your idea. In fact, you’d rejected the suggestion at least three times before you realised Ada was not going to accept no for an answer. When it comes to the Shelbys, you’ve learnt that taking the path of least resistance is often the only way forward.

White smoke curls in the air around you as you sense Tommy draw closer. You glance back to the mirror and find him watching your reflection intently. “Do you?” He asks, resting one hand on the back of your chair. “Feel alone?”

The last thing you want is to sound ungrateful after everything Tommy and his family have done for you. But if you’re being honest, you have found yourself wanting something - or someone - more. The pain of losing your husband is never going away, but surely that doesn’t mean that you should be denied a future.

And then there’s the way your body reacted to Tommy the other night. The way your stomach - and thighs - clenched as his warmth breath kissed your skin. It was only for a moment, the briefest stirring of something between you. But it opened your eyes. You don’t want to be alone. Not anymore.

You blink away the smoke and the memories. Tommy is off limits.

When you finally answer him, your voice is barely above a whisper, terrified that you’re going to upset him. But you owe him the truth. “Sometimes I lie awake at night and it feels like the loneliness might eat me alive. Sometimes, I think I want it to.” 

Tommy nods curtly, as if you’ve confirmed something he already knew. He stubs out his cigarette in the glass ashtray and then with a swoosh of his coattails he's gone.

Ada picked the restaurant for your first date with Lewis. It’s a new place that has recently opened on the edge of town. Apparently, it’s run by one of the Italian families that the Shelbys frequently do business with. But that should come as no surprise. One way or another, everyone in Birmingham has had dealings with the Peaky Blinders.

As you follow the waiter to your table, you feel your nerves begin to return. For the last few hours you have barely given a thought towards the man you are about to meet. Because ever since his sudden departure from Ada’s kitchen, you’ve been preoccupied by thoughts of Tommy and his reaction to your admission. But any guilt or fear of seeming ungrateful towards him had quickly turned to frustration. Tommy is your friend, not your brother or your father. Who you choose to spend your time with should be none of his concern. 

Realising you’ve become consumed - once again - by thoughts of Tommy, you barely notice that your table is already occupied. Sensing your arrival, your companion for the evening raises their head, and as you find yourself staring into a very familiar pair of blue eyes, your heart skips a beat.

The shock quickly subsides, turning instead, to anger. “What are you doing here, Tommy?” 

Tommy murmurs your name in greeting, his voice infallibly and infuriatingly casual as he indicates for you to sit. 

Temporarily forgetting your surroundings and plainly ignoring the waiter, who has pulled out your chair, you level the head of the Shelby family with an unwavering stare. “Where is Lewis?”

 "There was a change of plans."

"A change of plans?" You repeat incredulously, the side of Tommy you witnessed the other night rapidly turning to a distant memory. "What did you do to him, Tommy? What did you say?” The art of threat and intimidation is a familiar move in the Shelby family playbook. You’ve witnessed it time and again, but this is the first time it’s been used against you. 

Tommy clears his throat. “Unless it is your intention to cause a scene, you might want to take a seat.”

Begrudging his cold, calm logic, you do as he suggests, relieved when the waiter finally takes his leave. “Tell me what you said to Lewis.”

Tommy maintains eye contact with you as he sips from a glass of whisky. How long has he been here, biding his time as he awaited your arrival? You notice with a start that he’s changed his clothes since earlier, dressed up handsomely for the occasion. His actions, whatever they may have been, were clearly premeditated. “I paid him a visit. Made sure some things were understood. His decision not to come tonight was purely his own.”

“So, you scared him off.” Tears of betrayal sting your eyes as your suspicions are confirmed. You had been foolish to ever imagine that Tommy treated you differently. That you were safe from his scheming and machinations. 

He offers you a cigarette across the table but you shake your head. You don’t want anything from him. “Why? Why did you do it? Were you even listening to a word I said earlier?”

Before he can respond, the waiter returns with a bottle of expensive-looking wine. Tommy inclines his head, indicating that he should pour two glasses. Only when you’re alone again does he continue, lighting a cigarette. “Lewis Powell is not good enough for you.”

You shake your head, biting your lip against the threat of more tears. “That’s not your decision to make.” Whatever Tommy said or did to stop Lewis from coming tonight, you can guarantee that word will have spread by morning. No man in their right mind will want anything to do with you now.

Tommy is quiet for a moment, his piercing gaze studying you through the thin cloud of smoke. “You’re right.” His expression has softened, as if he’s only now just realising how much his actions have upset you. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I’m not a Shelby, Tommy.” You reach for the wine glass with a shaking hand and take a long sip, eyeing him over the rim. “I don’t need your permission or your approval.”

“Of course not.”

Deflated by his unwillingness to engage in a further argument, you settle back in your seat with a small sigh. What’s done is done. Pushing him further will achieve nothing. “You could have at least warned me. Why did you let me get all dressed up for nothing?" The crimson dress you picked out had cost a small fortune and Ada had spent hours fussing over your hair.

Tommy doesn’t take his eyes off you as he sips from his own wine. "I had no intention of letting the evening go to waste.” He pauses. “Unless you want me to take you home?”

Despite your better judgement - there are a multitude of reasons why dinner with Tommy Shelby is a bad idea, not least because the gradual shift in your feelings towards him shows no sign of thawing, even after the stunt he just pulled - you find yourself agreeing to stay. 

In what you can only assume is an attempt to make up for derailing your plans, Tommy spends the rest of the evening being more attentive and engaging than you ever thought possible. His guard is down as he regales you with stories from before the war - of his colourful childhood and his love for horses. Of his mother. 

For a few wonderful hours, you are both able to forget the truth. There’s no trace of the feared leader of the Peaky Blinders, nor the tortured war hero attempting to smoke away his pain. Tonight, it’s just you and Thomas Shelby and you find yourself wishing that didn’t have to change. 

When the meal is over and the bill is settled, Tommy helps you into your coat. You shiver involuntarily when his calloused fingers skim your bare shoulders, and your attention drifts to the clock on the wall. It’s late, but there are still plenty of hours until sunrise. 

“Arthur and John are waiting outside. They will see that you get home safely,” Tommy explains, leading you to the exit. Indeed, through the restaurant’s front window, you spot a pair of figures standing in the shadows across the street.

Uncertain whether you’re more disappointed or confused, you place a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks in the doorway. “You’re not taking me home?” You’re not sure what you were expecting, but at the very least he might have walked you back to your house.

The restaurant doorbell chimes as Tommy ushers you outside, the cold air stealing your breath away. “It’s better that you go with them.”

You plant yourself in front of him, your back turned to the two brothers waiting across the street. “Why? Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Inexplicably, this feels like rejection. You don’t know why you’re so surprised.

Tommy’s jaw works, his expression full of conflict when he finally meets your gaze. “Because if I walk you home, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from coming inside. And that would be a bad idea.”

You can feel your heart pounding away in your chest, the sound of it almost deafening as it rings in your ears - you know the next words you speak to be the truth. “And what if I want you to come inside.”

Tommy drags his gaze away from you, shaking his head. You recognise that look - Tommy Shelby, the immovable force - and resign yourself to disappointment. As he raises his arm, beckoning over Arthur and John, he meets your gaze for a final time. “Good night,” he murmurs softly, before walking away.

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader

[simphornies]

I saw you drop a request in my askbox and bsksksjakdhkshd I love it- so imma drop an idea in yours too and what you do with it is up to you lolol

So what about Vox and a drunk fem!reader? Like they were kinda just chilling but Reader has one stupidly large crush on the TV man but is too shy to say anything- but it all comes out on a drunken spiel at some point?

Anyway have funnnn :D

A/N: SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE. I got burnt out </3 But I hope you guys enjoy!

Word count: 1.2k (1,258) Contents: no mention of y/n, alcohol consumption, valentino being valentino

Drunk Confession [ Vox x F!Reader ]

After an extremely productive day, Vox decided to take out the employees that went above and beyond for their quotas, per your request. It took a lot of begging to convince the Vees to come along but Velvette denied, saying she didn’t want to hang around “lower class” demons. Vox agreed after you begged and pleaded repeatedly. Mainly just to get you to stop talking.

Everyone met up at the “Consent” club Valentino suggested. You show up, excited to have a day off and hang out with Val and Vox. One thing led to another and you got caught up in a drinking game with the employees. Vox watched you down shots after shots. Fifteen shots in and you were drunk out of your mind. You became a giggling, flushed, and drunken mess. You stumble over to Vox, draping your arm lazily over his shoulder.

“Hey, Vox!” Your words slurred as you spoke, a strong smell of alcohol emanating off of you. You give him a wide smile, “I’m so glad you came tonight. Made me really happy.”

Vox let out a chuckle, “I think you’re done for the night.” He says, glancing at his watch, “Let me take you home.”

You whined and pouted, “I don’t wanna.” As you tried to get up off of him, you stumbled over your own foot and fell. Vox caught you in time before you hit the ground and hurt yourself, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you’re definitely done.” He puts your arm around his neck and supports you. He turns to look at Valentino, “I’m gonna take her home. We’re done for tonight.”

Valentino smirked at Vox, “Don’t have too much fun, Voxy~” He teased.

Vox scowled in response, “Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that.”

Valentino laughs, “I’m just saying! But! if you do anything else…Record it for me.”

He grimaced at the comment. Who knows what Valentino would do with footage of you and him sleeping together? He stopped his own thoughts before he started to imagine it. “Gross! No.” Vox scoffed and walked out with you to his car. You were laughing at anything and everything throughout the whole car ride, pointing at every little light that interested you. Vox quietly admired this different side of you. You were always shy and professional around him, but this was new to him. He’d never seen you so open. He honestly liked it better than the front you’d put up at work.

You reach for the doorknob and miss it multiple times. “I can’t fuckin’ open it.” You whined, “Stupid door…Vox can ya open it f’me, please?” He sighed at your question and opened the door to which you wobbled over to your couch, nearly missing and landing on the floor. “Thankssss~” You look at him as he stands in your doorway. His arms were crossed and he was watching you with interest in his eyes.

Vox hasn’t seen you this wasted before, honestly it was entertaining to him. Usually you’d have a little bit of your wits but you just laid on your couch, giggling uncontrollably at him. He didn’t know if you would be okay to be left alone right now so he, reluctantly, shut your front door behind him.

“Why are you so giggly, right now?” He said as he walked towards you, joining you on the couch. You took this opportunity to stretch enough for you to have your head on his lap.

Your giggles didn’t cease unless you needed to catch your breath. You reach up and touch his screen, tracing the borders of his face with your fingers. “Because you’re sooooo cute~” You answered, “I looove being around ya all the time.”

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands off of his face. He brushed away your compliments, writing them off as drunk talk. “You need to go drink some, I don’t know, water or something. And go to bed.”

You pout and whine, “I meannn it! I love workin’ with youuu.” You poked his screen.

“Yeah? But don’t you complain about work, which includes me, all the time?” He replied, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to admit to you that he liked your company and your help. Probably because you weren’t going to remember it anyways.

“Pfff-” You scoffed, “Youuuu…are what I look forward to~ I like you.”

Vox stared at you in silence. He heard what you said but he didn’t know if you were being honest or just drunk. His fans kicked up and his screen started to warm up. “W-Well…” He cleared his throat, attempting to stop himself from stuttering due to the curveball you just threw at him, “I like you too. You’re a good employee, you’re perfect in your work and hardly make any mistakes.”

You laughed at him, “Silly TV demon man~” You placed your hand on his screen, “I like like you~” As soon as you confessed, he warmed up even more under your touch. You giggled at this, “You’re hot.”

Vox became a flustered mess. You were just shooting curveballs at him at this point. He fiddled with his collar in an attempt to cool himself down before he crashed. He enjoyed your company and grew to like you over time. He didn’t really understand his own feelings until Velvette had to tell him, calling him oblivious for not realizing and an idiot for not understanding his own feelings. He managed to compose himself the best he could but his voice cracked as he spoke, “You need to go to bed.”

Your smile faded into a pout. You squint at him and cross your arms, “No! I dun’ wanna.”

“I’m not asking you to go to bed, you’re going to go to bed. You’re drunk.”

You sit up and scoff, waving your hand as if you were swatting his ridiculous statement away. “Who’s drunk?” You get up, walk around the couch just to end up on the floor.

He got up to look at where you fell, “You. Come on, let’s go.” He walked over to you, laughing a bit as you whined, lifting you up into his arms to take you to your room. He sets you down and begins to take your shoes and jewelry off. “You’re not doing any more drinking games after this.” He tucked you in but you were fighting the sleep that slowly crept up on you.

“I’m not even tired.” You say just to be proven wrong by your own body as a yawn comes after your statement.

“You worked and drank enough. Go to bed and get some rest. You deserve it.” His voice was softer this time. He shifts to leave but you grab him by his sleeve. 

“Stay until I fall asleep?” You asked. He was internally screaming and malfunctioning but you were too drunk to notice. He simply nods and sits on the bed next to you, holding your hand until you eventually dozed off. He gives your knuckles a gentle kiss and smiles.

“Sleep well.” He leaves a bottle of water and some medicine in case you get a hangover the next day on your bedside table.

.

You wake up the next day to a single text from Vox.

VOX: We need to talk about last night. Meet me in the security room when you’re not hungover

You suddenly don’t feel your pounding headache as soon as the words register in your mind. You don’t remember anything after your 6th shot.

Me: what happened? VOX: :)

“I’m never fucking drinking ever again.”

Taglist: @froggybich @baizzhu @dickmastersworld @matrixbearer2024 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

[helloalycia]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!

also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol

y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name

5 years old.

"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.

I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.

"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"

I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.

"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.

After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.

At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.

I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.

—

14 years old.

"Y/N, I need your advice."

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.

He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"

I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."

He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."

Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"

"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"

At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."

"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."

"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"

He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"

I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."

He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."

"Exactly," I agreed.

He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"

Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.

Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.

Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.

"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?

"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.

She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."

I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.

After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.

"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"

I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.

Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.

It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.

Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.

"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"

Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.

"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.

We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.

If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.

Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose. 

"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."

"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"

I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.

Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.

After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.

I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.

Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.

"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.

She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"

"Game?" I asked with confusion.

"My soccer match," she clarified.

"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"

"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."

Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."

They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.

—

Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.

The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."

"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."

I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.

"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"

I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."

"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"

"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.

"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"

All I could do was nod.

"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.

"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.

With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.

She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.

—

It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.

The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.

"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.

"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"

I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."

I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.

"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."

She flashed me a smile before leaving.

Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.

—

15 years old.

I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.

"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."

Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"

I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.

"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.

"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."

"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.

"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."

"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."

"Oh, no, you don't need to–"

"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"

Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.

But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.

"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.

"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.

I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.

"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"

Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.

"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.

She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."

My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.

"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."

Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.

"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."

Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.

"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"

"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."

"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"

"Some, yeah."

"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"

"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.

She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.

After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."

I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.

"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."

Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.

"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.

"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.

I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.

"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.

Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.

"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."

Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.

The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.

The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.

We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."

"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.

"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."

They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.

They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.

We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.

"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.

"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.

After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.

"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'

I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"

"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"

"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."

"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.

"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"

"Oh, I don't know–"

"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.

And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

[golbrocklovely]

hunger // colby brock

A/N: this may or may not be based on a daydream i've had for a while. or honestly, a fic that i would love to write a whole story to but probably never will. vampire colby will always be my favorite. hope yall enjoy and lmk what you think ! happy haunting !

prompt: you wake up in an unfamiliar place. seeking shelter inside of a castle, you suddenly realize that everyone you know is a vampire, and you are the only human around. no one is going to save you, especially not the prince. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, waking up in an alternative universe, you and snc are/were friends, and now… they don't know who you are, vampire!prince!colby, blood drinking, mentions of manipulation powers (but they don't work on you), being aggressively manhandled a bunch, you are treated like shit by everyone for the most part, weird flirting???, overall some sexual undertones, passing out/almost dying, twist ending?

word count: 2970

I was running as hard and as fast as I could through the thick forest. I had no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I remember was going to bed, then suddenly I awoke surrounded by trees as far as my eyes could see. I wasn't even in the same clothes I went to sleep in. I was now in an off-white dress that stopped just above my knees, sprinting bare foot through the woods. I could hear voices around me, almost getting closer any time I would stop. It's like they were toying with me, forcing me to run any time I felt like stopping. My feet were on fire, most likely bleeding, but I couldn't stop. I knew that if I did, I would be done for.

I would have screamed out for help, but it almost felt as if doing that would draw attention to me; attention that would get me sooner killed rather than saved.

I squinted up ahead, a clearing coming into view. A huge dark grey building of some sort was getting closer. All I had to do was get to it and maybe I would be safe.

I prayed that this was a dream, and I would soon wake up, but as the cuts in my feet told me otherwise. This was no dream. This was real, and I just needed to keep going.

I finally rested against a tree for a moment right at the edge of the building's property. As I caught my breath, I realized this was no ordinary building - it was a castle. Stone walls rose high into the sky, tiny windows adorning the tops of the towers. The doors to the castle were unguarded, at least from the outside, and the big iron doors beckoned me in. Seeking shelter or help was my only option. I knew staying in the forest wasn't safe. But something in me churned at the thought of what could be beyond the castle walls.

I trudged over to the doors slowly, glancing around me. No one was in sight, and I couldn't hear anything from outside to indicate there was life inside. But there had to be.... right?

I grabbed the handle, pulling open the door with all of my might. Medal cranking noises sounded off, reverberating inside the room. I stepped in and closed the door, turning around. No one was there. Not even a whisper of a soul.

I walked up the carpet that led to a thrown, embellished in gold and black accents. The plush carpets felt amazing against my sore feet. I observed the massive room, noting the other doorways and stairs leading to who knows where else in the castle. The marble floor sparkled in the light coming in through the stained-glass windows. There were gorgeous paintings hanging along the walls, assumingly of past rulers. What was odd was how almost gruesome the paintings were - depicting beheadings and blood and gore. Not only that, but every single ruler had red eyes. Some even had blood dripping from their mouths.

One painting in particular caught my eye. It looked recent, and the man was sitting on the same thrown in this room. His was not as gruesome as the others, but something in his eyes was colder than all the rest. He didn't have to have the blood or gore to come across as scary. He just was. But his face... it looked eerily familiar to someone I knew. Someone that was my friend.

There was no way it could have been him. It had to be someone else.

"Hello, precious child." A voice rang out sinisterly, causing chills to run up my spine.

I spun around, my eyes landing on a man. He was tall with dark hair, and his clothing was formal and royal in dark blues and blacks. His eyes were almost neon red. His wicked smile gleamed in the light; fangs sharp as knives glaring back at me.

That couldn't be right...

"Boo." Another man's voice whispered behind me. I jumped, ready to scream, but a hand covered my mouth. An arm wrapped around me tightly, almost taking the air out of me as he squeezed. The person holding me laughed maniacally, finding it hilarious as I struggled against his hold. He was taller than me as well, and from the corner of my eye I could see his dark red hair hitting his shoulder as he held me.

"Now, now, Theo. You know how he will feel about us playing with our food." The man in front of me stated nonchalantly, slowly walking towards us.              

"But Alek... she smells so good. It was so much fun chasing her outside," Theo snickered behind me. He pressed his nose against my neck, breathing in my scent deeply. "God, what I would do for a bite of her right now."

"I know it was, but you know what Samuel will say." Alek rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, "And not to mention what he'll tell the prince."

"Screw them both! We found her first. We get first dibs." Theo growled bitterly, gripping me harder.

"Her fear is palpable.... that makes her blood all the more yummy." Alek's eyes danced across my body, his gaze lingering on my neck. "I not only thirst for your blood, sweetheart, but you.... have made me lascivious."

"Fuck you!" I spat, thrashing forward in Theo's arms.

Alek reeled back and slapped me, my face almost slamming into Theo's shoulder. "What a depraved mouth on such a tiny, little thing. For that alone I should drain you dr-"

"Are you two done yet? Because it is exhausting hearing you speak sometimes." Another voice cut through, sounding all too familiar.

All our heads turned towards one of the entrances. Standing there in all his glory, was Sam. My friend. But he looked... very different. He was a vampire, much like Theo and Alek. His hair was slicked back, and his clothing was similar to theirs, except in red and black with silver accents. His eyes were on me, but there was no sign he knew who I was.

My eyes widened at the sight of him, my breath hitched in my throat. "S-Sam?"

He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow at my voice. "How informal of you." He glanced at Theo and Alek, "Release her."

Theo's arms dropped me, my body almost crashing to the floor. Sam suddenly appeared in front of me, his hands grabbing at my wrists. He kept me close as he looked into my eyes. He searched my face for something, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"What is your name?" He asked calmly.

I thought for a moment of saying it but held my tongue. I grimaced at him, remaining silent.

"Oh, so now the wench has no words?" Alek snapped, grunting behind me.

"If I were you, I would be more like her." Sam narrowed his eyes at them both, "You as well, Theo."

"What did we do?" Theo barked, whining.

He blinked, annoyed. "You had plans to hide her away and feast upon her. You know the rules. The prince gets first taste."

"But we hunted her down. We found her in the forbidden forest." Alek argued, his voice hanging like venom in the air.

"And you allowed her into the castle when you should have been standing guard. You let a human in just to be food. We do not run our kingdom like that anymore." He gazed over at Theo, his voice just as pointed, "And your little comment, Theo… you are lucky King Henrik is not around. That sass alone would have gotten you beheaded instantly."

"May he rest in peace." The men behind me mumbled.

Sam finally turned back to me, a polite smile that did not reach his eyes resting on his face. "Where are my manners? My apologies. We were having a conversation. Now again, what is your name?"

I turned my head away, not knowing what else to do.

Sam hummed, his one hand leaving my arm. He brushed a finger against my turned cheek, forcibly turning my head back to him. "I'm doing everything in my power to remain kind to you. Don't push your luck."

"Fuck. You." I whispered harshly, a quiet tear streaming down my face. I didn't even realize I was close to crying, or that tears had welled up at all.

"You have guts, sweetheart. Too bad those with guts are killed first." Sam spoke softly, but with a vicious tongue. "The prince will be here shortly. Hold her."

Theo and Alek each took an arm of mine, holding me tightly. I tried to shake them off, to no avail. In a loud booming noise, the doors behind the thrown opened widely. A tall man walked through; his head held high. His eyes narrowed at the sight of all of us. Royal garb adorned his body, all black with gold detailing. As my eyes fell upon his face, my mouth gaped at him. It was Colby.

"What the fuck?" I uttered, stunned.

"Is that the only word you know how to say?" Colby questioned coolly. He stopped in front of me, taking all of me in for a moment. "Ever since you stepped foot into my castle, all I've heard from that pretty mouth of yours is 'fuck'."

"Bow before the prince, harlot." Theo hissed.

They dropped me onto my knees, forcing me down. My knees banged against the marble floor, a wince falling from my lips.

Alek snickered, getting low and near my ear. "Right where all human women belong."

Alek suddenly began to choke, his hold and Theo's letting me go. I picked my head up to see Colby choking him, his hand tightening to an almost death grip around Alek's throat. He looked bored, glancing around the room unamused. "I am exhausted by the two of you and your crude comments. Not only did you hunt this poor girl for sport, but now you have left me with no other choice but to use my powers on her or take her life. Cleaning up your fuck ups is the last thing I want to be doing."

"But sir, she just-!" Alek gurgled out.

"Speak another word and I will snap your neck like a toothpick, so help me God. Do you understand me?" Colby's cold voice made the hairs on my body stand on end.

"Yes, Prince Cole." Both Alek and Theo nodded.

Colby released Alek, his attention turning back to me as if he hadn't just choked out a man. "Now.... let me get a good look at you."

He bent down, his hand cupping my face gently. His gentle touch surprised me, my eyes fluttering. He studied me, his striking blue eyes taking me in.

"How come your eyes are blue?" I inquired lowly.

I heard Sam let out a soft laugh, Theo and Alek remaining silent.

An almost smile came to his lips. "My eyes are only red when I'm hungry. But I also have a lot of strength so I'm able to hide when I am hungry."

"Are you... hungry?" I gulped.

"I knew the moment you stepped into my castle because of the cuts on your feet. So yes, I am very hungry, darling." He gazed directly into my eyes, a sort of playful tone I was used to coming through. "Why, are you offering?"

My cheeks heated up from his intense stare. Dear heaven above, this was not the time to be blushing!

"You always knew how to make the ladies swoon, Prince Cole," Sam teased jokingly. "Maybe you can get her to say her name."

He turned his gaze back to me. "You haven't said your name yet? Why is that?"

"Is it really all that important if you plan to kill me?" I remarked rudely.

"I don't have to kill you. That's a last resort option," he replied sincerely. "So, why don't you tell me your name?"

"After everything I just went through, I'd rather not." I deadpanned.

Colby's gaze caught mine, his eyes flashing red. "Tell me your name, now."

I felt an electric surge course through my body when our eyes met, something deeper than just surface level. I could almost feel him in my body, in my soul, for a moment. But once the current dissipated, I was left still not wanting to say my name.

"No." I dissented.

All the men around me stepped back, mumbling incoherently. For the first time since he came into the room, Colby looked startled. Almost scared.

"How is that possible?" Sam questioned, amazed.

Theo whispered. "Witchcraft."

"There's no way your powers didn't affect her!" Alek exclaimed.

"Quiet," Colby hushed everyone, scooping me up firmly. He pushed me onto his throne, barricading me in with his arms. His eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. "How were you able to do that?"

"Do what?" I gasped.

"Block my powers. I come from the longest living vampire lineage in history, spanning thousands of years, and somehow.... my powers have no effect on you." He scanned me once again, his eyes lingering longer on my exposed skin. "You are nothing more than a human."        

"Lucky break, I guess." I sneered.

Colby scowled; his voice low. "Don't play cute with me, darling. You will not survive if anymore quips fall from your mouth. I am a patient man, but an indignant ruler."

"I don't know! I don't even know how the fuck I got here! I woke up in the forest and ran from those two lunatics and now I'm here getting berated by a bunch of vampires! You tell me how this make sense." I ranted, getting close to his face.

Sam chimed in. "Cole, she might be telling the truth."

"There's no way. Clearly she is a witch of some type. Or has her own abilities that are somehow stronger than mine. She might be a spy from our opposition." Colby argued, gesturing towards me.

"So, our only option... is the last resort." Sam breathed, glancing at me hesitantly.

I was going to die. There was no way around it.

Theo whined, "If you're going to kill her, can we please have a bite of her, sir? We are the ones that caught this intruder and-"

"You were the ones that let her in!" Colby thundered, his eyes red.

I jumped out of the throne, running towards the open doors behind me. I barely got close, being taken suddenly into Colby's strong arms.

I screamed, pleading with him. "No! Please let me go! I'm not a spy! I- Please!"

"There's no use fighting me, sweetheart. This is the only option left." He spoke calmly.

I shook in his arms, doing my best to fight against his hold. "Please don't do this to me! No, Col-"

"I will make it painless and quick if you want." He assured.

I raged, thrashing back and forth in his arms. "Fuck you! Let me go!"

He pulled my hair so my neck was on full display for him to bite into. "What a pity. I'm sorry, sweet girl. There is no other way."

Colby's teeth sunk deeply into my neck, my body freezing against his. The shock of the bite sent my body into overdrive, tears flowing down my cheeks as I begged for my life.

Sam, Theo, and Alek watched as Colby drank from me slowly. Theo and Alek glared but gazed at my neck hungrily. Sam observed, a sad expression coming across his red eyes.

Colby pulled away from my neck with a sharp inhale, an almost moan. "Oh Lord, her blood is divine. Unlike anything I've had before."

He plunged his teeth back into my neck, my eyes drooping from the blood loss. He sped up his motions, draining me faster. I kept trying to fight, but my limbs grew stiff and tired. My tears had slowed down and my voice wasn't as loud as it once was. I was inching closer to death. Black dots filled my vision.

"Please, Colby. Stop." I whispered, my breaths extremely shallow and labored.

He froze at the sound of his name. He removed his mouth from my neck, spinning me around in his arms. The world doubled, tripled, in my vision. My head whirled as I felt like I was falling.

He brought me down to the floor softly, cupping my face just like he had before. "What did you call me? Say it again, darling. Say it!"

"C-Colby. Pleaseeee." I slurred, my eyes unable to stay open.

The last thing I saw were his blue eyes, deeply worried about me.

~~~

"Take her to my bedroom, call Magnus. Tell him to heal her, quickly. Now! And if you harm a hair on her head, I'll stake you where you stand." Cole ordered, glaring daggers into Theo's eyes.

Theo took Y/N into his arms, running her up to Prince Cole's room hastily. Alek followed suit, disappearing with him.

Samuel grabbed onto Cole's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "She called you... Colby. But the only person that ever called you that was-"

"My mother. And she passed when I was a child. There's no way anyone knew of that name, but her." Cole's breathing picked up, his mind racing a million miles a second.

"Do you think this is the sign she meant to send you? She told you all those years ago she would send someone just for you." Samuel responded, looking into Cole's eyes.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Cole was unsure. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he was petrified too. "I-I don't know. But I have to find out."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader #colby brock vampire #colby brock oneshot #colby brock one shot #sam and colby #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween #colby brock angst