#😭 i had to take off one of his sets of eyelashes so he could wear the accessories i wanted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

some-bunniii · 4 months

Text

Lucifer with an artist reader

・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected

xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️

warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.

He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.

When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.

At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”

Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.

Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.

He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.

If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was ASMR for the King of Hell.

You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.

You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.

Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.

“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”

You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.

Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.

His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.

And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.

“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”

“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”

“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.

Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.

“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.

“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”

“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”

“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”

You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.

“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.

Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.

Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.

And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.

“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“

Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.

“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”

He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.

When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.

“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”

Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.

In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.

Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.

For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.

“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.

You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.

You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.

When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.

“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.

There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.

You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.

Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.

“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.

Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.

Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.

“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.

“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?

“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”

Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.

“Fine.” You conceded.

“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.

The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.

After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.

“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”

You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.

“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”

“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.

You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.

Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.

Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.

“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.

“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.

A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.

“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.

“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”

You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.

“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.

Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.

“Alright, I suppose so.”

You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.

‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’

Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.

You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.

At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.

You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?

“Charlie?” You asked slowly.

The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.

You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.

“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.

“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.

“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.

Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”

“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.

“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”

You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.

“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”

“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”

You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.

“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.

This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.

Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.

“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”

You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”

“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.

You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.

In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.

“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.

Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.

You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.

Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.

Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.

You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.

“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”

You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.

“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.

Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?

You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.

You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,

His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.

Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?

His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.

He replied with a wave of his fingers.

You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.

“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.

What the hell was he doing?!

“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”

Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.

“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”

He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.

A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.

Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.

“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.

Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.

You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.

“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”

Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.

“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?

You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.

“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.

“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.

Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.

His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.

You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.

Did he just tense?

Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.

You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.

“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.

His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.

You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.

Taking a step back, you admired your work.

You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.

“And one more thing…” You started.

Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.

“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.

You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.

You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.

Maybe now this would be an even match.

“Begin.”

Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.

“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.

“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”

“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”

The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.

Then, he turned his head to you.

“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.

“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”

The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.

The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.

You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.

For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.

With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.

Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.

“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.

Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.

“Careful~” He chided.

You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.

You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.

“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”

“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”

You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”

He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.

Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.

This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.

To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.

Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.

You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.

You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.

Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.

Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?

You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.

“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”

“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.

“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.

“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”

“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”

Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.

“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”

You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.

“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.

“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.

You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.

“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.

“You did?”

“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”

“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.

You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.

“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.

“Ask what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”

His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.

You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.

“As always.”

His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.

As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.

“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.

His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.

You promised silently it wasn’t.

The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.

Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.

“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”

——————

🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!

💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #did i do the sexy good?#my asexual ass is trying y’all #this man has been in one ep and we’re all snarling over him jesus

2K notes · View notes

spatialwave · 9 days

Text

“red lips”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3.1k ask: “I have a cooper howard smut request, could you write something where the reader is his makeup artist on a new movie. Theres an Automatic connection they really click and have some sweet sweet sexual tension and after working together for a while during the movie the tension keeps growing and they get steamy in the makeup trailer. 🤭” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cheating/affair, cooper praises you. notes: this was SOOO fun, thanks for the ask!! i promise i’ll write some more ghoul fics, but just getting through my asks first and they’re predominantly pw!cooper <3 (also i love cooper calling reader angel for some reason, it’s so cute 😭)

“good morning,” you chirped, far too perky and bubbly for it being six o’clock in the morning.

you’d been working as a makeup artist for two years now, starting off as an assistant on television shows before scoring larger gigs. this was your first big break working in film, hired on the set of ‘The Man from Deadhorse’, starring none other than cooper howard; the biggest name in hollywood.

it just so happened that they hired you to be his makeup artist.

you were giddy, nervous and trying your best to not allow imposter syndrome to ruin your opportunity.

there were a handful of other makeup artists in the trailer, setting up their stations for the morning, allowing plenty of time to pretty up the actors before their call time. you’d chatted amongst each other, mostly other women, and sharing your excitement about working on a blockbuster film.

you’d been so caught up sharing a story about your latest television gig, you hadn’t noticed cooper howard leaning in the door frame of the trailer—patiently waiting. you’d only been made aware after one of the other girls motioned, smiling politely as they continued prepping for the day.

“sorry,” you gasped, hit with a sudden wave of nervousness as you looked at your station that was ready and waiting. you, on the other hand, wasn’t as prepared, “feel free to take a seat, mr. howard, i’ll just be a second,” you rambled, fingers shaking. you couldn’t remember the last time you were starstruck on set.

“take your time,” the man hummed, his voice just as magnetic as it was on the big screen. you heard his footsteps behind you, the sound of the chair creaking as his weight pushed down on it.

you remembered the voice of the makeup department head, who you had met with in the morning to go over the day’s look with cooper. nothing out of the ordinary: cover-ups of tired eyes, blemishes, and repeated touch ups during the day. lighting on sets were notorious for melting away concealers and foundations, so you were to always be one shout away for mid-scene fixes.

one more deep breath and you willed yourself ready, spinning around and taking a good look at the older actor.

“i promise i’m usually more prepared than this,” you smiled, your voice as sweet as honey. you hadn’t the slightest clue of how much that affected the older actor, shifting in his seat.

“no, no, don’t apologize. maybe i’ll show up a few minutes late tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” he flashed a toothy grin, his charisma reeling you in like a hungry fish.

you two had hit it off well. there were many instances in your career where this time of the day was silent, your talent preferring peace and quiet as they prepared for a long, tiring day of shooting. cooper wasn’t like that, he seemed intent on keeping up the chatter until you finished powdering his nose.

“and that’s it,” you beamed, chewing on your bottom lip as you leaned in a bit close, using your thumb to brush an eyelash off of his cheek. strangely, you hadn’t the slightest urge to pull away.

cooper’s eyes had settled into a gaze with your own, the two of you completely silent, but saying plenty with only your eyes. his hazel orbs flickered down to your lips, rouged and plump, sickeningly kissable.

the sexual tension was thick, and your stomach twisted and turned wildly as you imagined him pinning you back against the makeup table and making you squirm and mewl in delight.

your mind only needed a few moments to conjure up a vivid scenario. your skirt pushed up to your hips, legs spread wide as cooper pushed himself deep into your aching arousal. he’d groan each time you purred his name into his ear, your breath hot against his skin and making his cock twitch inside you.

you’d milk him for what he’s worth, pussy so full that it starts to drip out. he’d rub the tip of his hard cock through your folds, gathering his white, hot cum and pushing it back inside you until you were fucked stupid. he’d have you begging for him to finish inside again, panting and whining loudly until you got what you wanted.

cooper’s cum slut—god, you needed to pull yourself together.

you squeezed your thighs, a slickness inside your panties that you didn’t need to deal with this early in the morning, but it was all your fault. you were sick in the head.

stepping back, you cleared your throat and began putting away tools in their spots—your station neatly organized.

“why, thank you, darlin’,” cooper chimed softly, as if he hadn’t just been fucking you with his eyes much like you had, “i’ve never had my makeup done so well that it’s felt like nothin’ on my face. i oughta’ keep you around for all my future films.”

a rosy blush tinted your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the compliment wanting you to scream in joy. there was nothing quite as good as an actor appreciating your craft, especially one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of.

“well, i suppose i can clear up the next few years if you’d like,” you giggled, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him leave. just as he was exiting the trailer, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze and sending you off with a cheeky wink that nearly made your knees give out.

every morning that cooper was scheduled on set, you were there in the makeup trailer at six am, waiting for his arrival thirty minutes later. to your surprise, he started coming in earlier and you wondered if it was because he wanted to be around you more, or just for the sake of being an early bird. he’d bring you a fresh cup of coffee, knowing by heart the way you liked it after asking one time: two sugar and one cream.

the sexual tension continued to blossom, but you two had hid it well for the sake of your jobs, sanity and cooper’s fame. from what you knew, cooper was many things, including a husband, and you didn’t need to get involved. you weren’t so keen on being in the middle of a controversy.

but there was nothing so wrong with flirting, was there?

“good morning,” you smiled, hearing heavy footsteps entering the trailer and soft sound of two coffee mugs being set down.

“mornin’, angel,” the cowboy spoke, his voice low and groggy.

“you look tired,” you mentioned, turning to face the man and seeing dark circles under his eyes, “you know you don’t have to come in so early. everyone else started coming in later too now that call time has been pushed.”

“what? and miss some quality time with my favourite girl?” he flashed a grin, and your cheeks burned red.

“yes, exactly that,” you chuckled, “you need your beauty sleep, mr. howard.”

“stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, sipping on his coffee and letting the caffeine pump through his system, “you’re a friend, you can call me cooper.”

you smiled, keeping it hidden as you took a sip of your coffee and laid out your makeup for the day, “fine, cooper."

he set his coffee down on the small table beside him, pursing his lips as he watched you prep for the day. your back was turned to him and gave him perfect view of your backside, eyes taking in the flowy black dress you wore that was held snug against your waist with a white belt. he could see the shimmer of your nylon, the dress only reaching your knees and leaving much to be desired.

cooper was a faithful man, he always had been, and there was never a time in his life where he would imagine breaking his loyalty until now. as much as he wanted to blame his thoughts of you on troubles in his marriage, it wasn’t true.

he was weak. plain and simple.

“you ready, cooper?” you broke through his thoughts, your red lips pulled into a smile.

“as ready as ever,” he returned a thin-lipped smile, pushing his mind elsewhere once reminding himself that his thoughts were exactly that—only thoughts.

doing his makeup was therapeutic. this early in the morning meant it was just you two, idle chit-chat as you carefully covered any imperfections on his face.

“can you tilt your head back for me?” you asked, the sweet sound of your voice sending the man’s brain into orbit. he followed your words, clearing his throat as he lifted one leg over the other to cover up the erection building underneath his pants.

he hadn’t shared the reasoning for his tiredness with you, having gone to bed late and rather pent-up. his hand underneath the blanket, stroking his cock as his mind was full of images of you, imagining what your body looked like under those dresses and skirts you liked to wear. impractical for long days, but he wouldn’t complain.

his hand around his length wasn’t enough, but he made do. moaning and whimpering your name as he imagined you riding him all night long. your perky breasts bouncing and fingers pressing against his chest as you begged him to fuck you harder and deeper.

a quiet sigh left his lips as you blotted makeup to his under eyes, hiding the tired bags that he’d done to himself for letting his imagination get the best of him.

it was quiet, only the sounds of you softly humming as you focused on your duty at hand.

cooper couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you… have a boyfriend?” cooper asked, swallowing a lump down his throat. he regretted the question, feeling the way you froze. for a man with natural-born charisma, he wasn’t sure how he managed to fumble so awkwardly.

“uh, no,” you answered, voice quiet, “just been focusing on work these days, not a lot of time for relationships when i’m working long hours.”

the question bounced around in your head, trying to clear the thought but there was no use. you were stuck there, staring at the man in awe as you hoped his mind was filled with dirty thoughts like your own.

he grunted in response, shifting in his seat as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. you paused with your application, pulling your hand back and locking eyes. your faces were only a few inches apart, warm breath mingling together. you inhaled his scent, a mix of cologne, coffee and cigarettes, an addicting smell that you’d rather taste.

cooper read your mind.

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded—you were as weak as him.

cooper’s hand lifted to your neck quickly, pulling you close so he could crash his lips against yours and taste the sweetened coffee creamer on your tongue. the brushes in your hands dropped to the floor and were long forgotten as he tugged you into his lap and took your breath away.

at any moment, someone could waltz into the trailer, but neither of you were thinking rationally. all you wanted was each other after weeks of menial flirting and small talk.

he groaned into your mouth, the sound muffling as his hand caressed your jaw and the other pressed into the small of your back so you were flush against his body. as you straddled him, you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your heat that had already soaked through your panties and nylon.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart,” cooper whispered, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck. he inhaled the floral perfume that you wore, a gentle scent that dizzied him as he attacked your skin, “you're such a pretty girl. teasin' me all the time, lookin' so sweet.”

the praises and compliments fed you well, causing you to rub your hips against him with vigorous need.

you were silently begging for more, and you were delighted to find out that cooper howard wanted nothing more than to make sure you were well taken care of.

your legs spread as you sat in his chair, your dress pushed up to your hips but covering most of his face as his tongue flicked against your clit, swollen and throbbing. one of your hands pressed over your mouth, muffling the pleasured sounds from you, the other pulling your dress back so you could see cooper ravaging your cunt.

his eyes peered up into yours, cheeks red while he tongued inside your arousal and calloused hands kept your thighs pushed apart.

“don’t stop,” you whimpered, “just like that. please, cooper, you’re doing so good.”

you kept him going, your words encouraging him as he sucked at your bundle of nerves and filled you with two fingers. he worked you well, scissoring his fingers and bending them so they could rub along the muscle of your g-spot. it erupted you into a fit of pouty moans, his skillful movements making you reach your climax quicker than any of your past partners.

your thighs shook and your hands gripped on the arms of the chair, cunt squeezing around his fingers as your juices seeped out of you and coated his skin. he fucked you through it, fingers rocking inside of you while pleasure flooded all of your senses.

“look at you,” he breathed against you, warm breath tickling your sensitive heat, “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away, “yes,” you murmured, willing to say anything cooper wanted to hear, “i’ll do whatever you want.”

that cracked a smile on his lips, fingers slowing until he pulled them out and watched your face twist at the sudden emptiness, “anything? well, with an offer that sweet, i’ll be sure to get my worth out of you.”

all you could do was smile at him, breathing heavily in a state of post-climax, wondering how on earth you were going to keep this up without screaming out his name. loud enough for anyone outside the trailer to hear.

your were putty cooper’s hands. a simple kiss to your inner thigh and you nearly unraveled again.

“i don’t know how i got so lucky to fuck a girl like you,” his voice was low, demeanour shifting into a side of cooper howard you thought existed only in your mind, “is it okay if i do that? because i’m sure you know how to take cock well.”

fuck.

“yes, please,” you answered, eyes following him as he rose to his feet in front of you. it was hard not to noticed the tent in his pants, your mind reeling as you imagined what he looked like underneath.

“good girl,” he breathed, forcing you out of the chair and in one quick motion swiping across your makeup counter so everything fell to the ground.

you couldn’t complain about his mistreatment of your belongings because you were biting on your bottom lip to muffle a moan as his thumb circled your clit. your ass was atop the makeup counter, back pressed against the large mirror as cooper touched you with one hand and undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other.

“you gotta’ be nice and quiet,” he whispered, watching you do your best to muffle any sounds bubbling from your throat, “this is just for us, okay?”

you hummed in agreement, unable to speak as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. his thumb continued the slow ministrations, keeping your body in a state of overstimulation as he stretched your aching pussy with a forward press of his hips. he was bigger than you were used to, but you took him well—you’d wanted this for weeks, after all.

“fuck,” you whimpered, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you tilted your head back against the mirror and glued your eyes shut. you were filled by him, legs wrapping around his hips and forcing him still so you could adjust to the feeling.

“you okay, angel?” he kissed at your parted lips, tasting your tongue before trailing along your jaw and nibbling at your earlobe, “tell me when.”

even during the midst of an affair, cooper howard was the kindest man you ever had the privilege of fucking.

“...when,” you whimpered.

he didn’t hold back when you gave him the go—knowing that you two only had so little time before someone else was bound to barge in. you were forced to bury your face into his neck, whining and mewling against his skin while he fucked you relentlessly.

you loved his sounds, groaning heavy into your ear with each snap of his hips. his breath tickled your neck and left you a squirming mess, his cock fucking you so well that all you could do was babble gibberish. broken words of encouragement and pleads to keep going.

“harder,” you mewled, fingers digging into his clothed shoulders as he obliged.

his cock pushed so deep inside you that the tip rubbed against the fleshy ring of your cervix, rendering you utterly fucked out in a state of bliss. all you were good for was being a mere tool for him to reach his climax, your cunt tightening at every thrust of his hips.

more of your makeup toppled to the floor, your hands moving from his shoulders and gripping onto the surface below you. you met cooper’s gaze as you pulled back, his lips and chin covered in red smudges from your lipstick.

“you take me so good,” he breathed, the hand on your hip gripping tight and the other leaving handprints on the mirror behind you, “good fuckin’ girl.”

“i’m gonna’ come,” you whined, eyes hardly open as you peered at your lover through thick lashes. your thighs squeezed against his hips, vibrating as your second orgasm creeped up and you knew he was close, too.

“come for me, angel,” he grunted, quickening his pace to chase down his orgasm, “scream my name.”

his thumb returned to your clit and the chord inside you snapped. you wrapped your arms tight around the actor’s neck and pressed your lips against his so he could swallow your moans. you shook violently, toes curling as you came hard.

you lips parted from him and you couldn’t help the way his name slipped off your tongue, voice cracking as you cried in pleasure.

he wasn’t far behind, a groan rumbling deep from his chest as his hips stuttered and he came inside you—leaving you sticky, sweaty and full. neither of you could move, bodies twitching as you clung to each other in the euphoric aftermath that released all the building tension between you.

you were cooper howard’s little secret, a title you would take to the grave.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout prime fic #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x your #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #walton goggins #wordsbyspatial

343 notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 3 months

Text

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was sometimes a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can't think of right now.

A/n: My requests are open for any TWD character if y'all wanna send any! Also, I don't really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I've seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn't true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol 🥲. (This is so rushed. I'm sorry for the bad writing 😭)

—

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

“I know ya can, but it dun' mean ya have to. Ya need to take it easy.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can't let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant, I ain't lettin' ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with tha', let me know and I'll handle 'em. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to our baby jus' 'cause some people can't pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for 'em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain't riskin' it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to the two of ya. If tha' means carryin' a crate so tha' ya can rest or fightin' off a herd of walkers so tha' yer safe, so be it. I'd do anythin' for ya and our little one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you've grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl's face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings of public displays of affection. “You're just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain't adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don't start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who's more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alrigh’,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain't about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that's the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, tha' I ain't lettin' happen. I was talkin' 'bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain't got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry 'bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of tha',” he said with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn't let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus' fine too, but ya were worried 'bout me and takin' care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alrigh'? Ya have more at stake here than tearin' a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven't really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that'll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain't because I think yer incapable to help out or somethin'. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin' yer not accidentally overworking yerself. I've seen it happen before. Ya'd get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin' it. I don't want tha' to happen to ya righ' now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer's reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you'll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn't come get you. He'd put yours and your baby's safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you'd be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

—

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he layed back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn't been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn't understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you said softly, instantly catching the archer's attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl's silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“’S fine, nothin' we couldn't handle. Just some buildin' materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me tha' really heavy liftin' ain't good fer a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn't want ya carryin' logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle tha'.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl's features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out tha' ya were pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin' her and Carol wha' I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin' sickness and what ya should avoid doin', and she told me tha' ya needed to refrain from liftin' heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that's why you've been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do 'round here involves heavy liftin', and I didn't want ya accidentally hurtin' yourself or our little one because of it. Tha's why I've been so adamant about ya takin' it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn't wanna be overbearin', but ya really wanted to help out with everythin' and the thought of somethin' goin' wrong because of all the hard work we have to do was too much fer me to handle. ’M sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl's hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don't have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“Fer wha'?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn't want to feel useless. I didn't want to feel like a burden because I couldn't help out.”

Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun' ever think tha'. Yer carryin' a life in yer belly, and tha's takin' up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact tha' ya can't work as hard as ya used to fer the next few months because yer pregnant, let me know and I'll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“Wha's wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don't even really know why I'm crying.”

“C'mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl's arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand's soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“’M sorry fer bein' so overprotective,” Daryl said after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I'm sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I'll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would've been forced to lock ya in the house whenever their was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be righ' here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you've been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer's arms.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

607 notes · View notes

taytrashmouth · 6 months

Note

Heyy I was wondering if u could do prompt 22 with peeta I’ve been having peeta brainrot for so long 😭

tysmm!!

This is so real!!!!! Peeta supremacy. I really hope you love it.

Prompt 22: “You’re staring!”

Requests are open so please send them in!!!!!!!! Prompts under my profile.

(Set before the games)

:readmore:

It was a cold day in district 12, the snow had started to fall. But it was a good day, because you had somehow giggled your way into getting a date with Peeta Mellark.

You pulled your small brown bag, that’s been patched up so many times you couldn’t tell which fabric was the original. And began to walk to the bakery.

You pulled your dark blue beanie over your ears as you approached the door. You contemplated for a minute before knocking.

Peetas family were gathering supplies from the local market, they wouldn’t be back for the next few hours.

He opened the door and smiled the minute he saw you. You smiled back.

“Hey.” He ushered you inside, looking at the snow that dusted your shoulders.

“You must be freezing.” He took your coat and put it over the chair by the entrance.

“Only slightly.” You joked.

“You’ve got- umm snow.” Peeta pointed to your eyelashes. You giggled “oh, would you?”

You closed your eyes and he gently dusted the snowflakes off of your long eyelashes.

His hand lingered on your cheek as you opened your eyes.

“Thanks.” You spoke just above a whisper.

“I’m making bread.” He let out as he pulled his hand away. You smiled at his awkwardness.

“I’m glad! Your bread is like what I look forward to the whole week.” You told him as you walked to the kitchen.

He smiled shyly.

“I just need to get this in the oven and then we can do whatever you want.” He spoke, walking over to a metal bowl where the dough had been rising.

You sat on the kitchen counter and watched him knead the bread. You were mesmerised by the muscle in his arms, and the way he used his whole body to knead the dough.

He was talking about something but if you were honest you didn’t know what.

“Y/n-“ he called and you broke out of your trance. “You’re staring…” he smiled cockily.

You turned crimson looking at your hands and swinging your legs. “Sorry-“

“Don’t be…” he let out as he placed the bread into the oven.

“Come on.” He spoke and helped you down from the counter by your hips.

You blushed more.

He led you to the living room where a fire was going, it was small like all the houses in 12. But it was nice. Cozy.

You took your beanie off and attempted to smooth out your hair. Messy curls bouncing everywhere.

There was a severe lack of chairs in the living room. All single chairs in every corner of the room and a huge table in the middle. Furniture wasn’t one of the luxuries the Capitol provided.

You noticed some daisies lying on the table. Peeta picked them up. “I- I uh picked these for you. They grow down by the river.”

You smiled. “They’re beautiful.” You smelt them.

“Like you.” You both blushed then.

He took a daisy out of the bouquet and placed it behind your ear.

After a while of talking Peeta spoke “what do you wanna do? Unfortunately when it’s snowing there’s not much to do is there?”

“We could read.” You suggested fishing a book from your bag.

“Where did you get that?” Peeta examined it in awe.

“My dad, he knows a guy in 7 that owned a library before the rebellion. He’s really old. But every month my dad travels to get wood from 7 for our district and he gives him a book for me to read.” You explained.

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, when I was little he said that if the Capitol ever crumbles the library’s mine.” You smiled at the memory.

“You’ll have to take me with you.”

“Always.” You looked at every feature on his face. “You can lend some of them anytime you want. I have a feeling we’re gonna have to wait a long time for the whole library.” You joked and Peeta laughed

I would love to, but I’m not that great at reading.” He hesitated to speak. You could tell he was embarrassed.

“That’s okay, my mom taught me. Honestly I don’t blame you, schools here just care about coal and the rebellion.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry by the way.” He was talking about your mom. She died a few years back.

“It’s okay.” You smiled sadly.

“I can read to you if you want.” You offered.

He nodded. Hiding his excitement.

He sat on one of the chairs, and you sat on the floor next to him.

“Hey don’t sit on the floor.” Peeta sat up.

“No no! I’m fine, you won’t hear from over there, really.” You insisted.

“Sit with me.” Peeta suggested.

Blush crept into his face the second he said it.

“You don’t have t-“

“I want to.” You stood up.

He sat back onto the seat squeezing as far right as he could. You tried to squeeze next to him but you were half on top of him. You were both tomato’s.

He carefully placed his hand on your lower back and under your thigh. You took a sharp breath in as he moved you to sit on his lap, legs over the armrest.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

“Perfect.”

You began to read and he held onto every word. He was in deep and he knew it. He watched your lips move and the way you smiled when something good happened. And giggled when something romantic happened.

“Peeta-“ he broke from his trance when he realised you weren’t reading anymore.

“You’re staring.” You smirked.

Now he was the blushing mess. “It’s hard not to.” He moved some hair behind your ear.

You squealed and hurried your head in his chest at how perfect he was. He chuckled and stroked your hair as you continued to read, head on his chest.

#i love peeta #thg peeta #team peeta #peeta mellark #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark x reader #peeta supremacy #peeta x reader #the hunger games peeta #requests #y/n #the hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #may the odds be ever in your favor

336 notes · View notes

eddiebun · 2 years

Note

where reader and eddie showers together and it’s super cute and fluffy and reader helps eddie wash his hair etc. please i am trying desperately to recuperate myself after vol 2😭😭😭😭

i feel you </3 this came out so soft it’s so healing

it was quiet in the munson trailer, all hushed aside from the scattered giggles you’d let out when you felt eddie’s fingers rubbing soap into a particular ticklish spot against your neck, “o-okay, okay, no more m’ gonna slip.” you tensed up, nose scrunching up from eddie’s now purposeful tickling.

you pushed his hands away, bringing one up to your mouth and glaring up at him playfully, “i’m gonna bite your fingers off, no more tickling.” you cooed, kissing each of his fingers instead.

eddie couldn’t help the big smile that overtook his face, eyes creasing and smile lines indenting into his cheeks, “mmkay, no more tickling, i pinky swear.” he held out his pinky and you squeezed it with yours.

“c’mon, the water will go cold if we don’t wash your hair in time, you big puppy.” you poked his chest before leaning up and placing a soft kiss at the tip of his nose, watching his face scrunch up cutely,

“what was that for?” he peeked an eye open as you placed the shower head above his hair, careful not to get the water all in his face.

“no reason, just love ya.” you giggled, other hand coming up to make sure all his curly strands were wet.

“you want me to dry your hair again like last time? it’s not good falling asleep with wet hair baby.” you scolded your boyfriend, bottom lip jutted out as you shook the shampoo bottle, pouring some into your hand before gently getting it throughly in his hair.

“mhm..” he nodded, probably not even listening, he always got so blissed out when you did that thingy with your nails against his scalp, massaging and rubbing.

both his eyes were closed now and you carefully— more-so than last time, rinsed out the shampoo, watching his big brown eyes fluttering back open when you set aside the shower head to get some conditioner on next.

“you love being pampered so much,” you giggled, “it’s so cute, no one would guess eddie munson was the biggest softie to exist.” he pouted at that but he didn’t complain or deny, he loved it really.

“smells like.. strawberries.” eddie muttered, eyes closed and head tilted back so you had to go on your tippy toes to make sure all the conditioner was throughout his hair.

“mm, close enough, it’s peaches.” you grinned, pinching his cheek and watching him peak his eyes open again, glancing up like he could see the top of his head, pointing to his hair.

“you’re leaving it on?” he asked and you nodded, watching the way his head tilted like a confused puppy dog.

“you gotta for this one, just for a couple minutes.” you told him, rubbing any stray water droplets that trickled down his face.

he nodded, taking a strand of his hair and sniffing, making you laugh, arms coming up to wrap around his waist with your chin rested at his chest, “you didn’t say it back.” you spoke quietly, his eyes darting from his hair to look down at you, blinking a couple times in confusion.

“say what back?” he asked, his hand coming up to rub his thumb along your cheek.

“that you love me.” you forced a pout, fluttering your eyelashes up exaggeratedly at him.

it had his shoulders shaking with laughter, his arms suddenly pulling you flush against him as he pressed his nose to yours and you smelt the peach conditioner from how close he was.

“i love you, so much, way too much,” he pecked your lips, “like more than you’ll ever know much.” he grinned against your lips before pressing his lips to yours, but for a real kiss, feeling how plush his lips were and how he tasted like a mixture of cupcakes you had baked for him and the lingering taste of cigarettes on his tongue, feeling it gently swipe and twirl around yours.

“mm, don’t get too excited, times up.” you mumbled against his lips, feeling him pout but he pulled away and you grabbed the shower head again, carefully rinsing out the conditioner, making sure none was left in and luckily the water didn’t turn cold before you had finished.

he took a hold of your hand and you followed him, feeling a warm fuzzy towel wrapped around you, the one he always saved for when you were staying over.

“thanks.” you smiled, tucking the towel around your body and watching eddie place one around his hips before you followed him into the bedroom, grabbing your hairdryer you purposefully bought and left here for your boyfriend.

it was kinda therapeutic, and you got to help eddie because he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of his hair, so it was a win win.

you jumped onto the bed, sitting yourself down and watching eddie sit in front of you, leaning back a little on the palms of his hands, tilting his head back and grinning stupidly, “hi.” he winked, face upside down from the angle you were looking.

“hi, dummy.” you giggled, poking his head and getting him to sit a little more properly as you turned the hair dryer on, grabbing a brush and carefully getting any tangles or knots out of his hair whilst you dried and thanks to the conditioner it never got too wild.

“i did a good job, as usual.” you boasted, kissing the top of your boyfriends head and feeling him lay back against you suddenly, “oh, you’re tired?” you gasped playfully in disbelief.

“it’s just so relaxing, thank you, sweetheart.” he told you, bringing your hand up and kissing the back of it, trailing soft kisses up your arm before he turned around, gesturing you to lay back with a simple nod of his head.

you smiled, agreeable especially when your boyfriend looked this cute and sleepy eyed.

you felt his soft hairs tickling your chin as he rested his head at your chest, feeling his fingers dancing gently along your waist.

this was nice, this felt like heaven, watching the way eddie’s head rose and fell with your chest as you breathed in and then out.

“can you play in my hair some more.” you heard him mumbling against your chest, feeling the pang in your heart, hand already instinctively flying up to get your fingers twiddling his strands and nails scratching gently up and down the back of his neck.

“mmh, thank you..” he sighed out and you felt his body un-tense even more if that was humanely possible, “love you s’much.” his breathing got a little heavier, soft snoring soon filling up the room.

“i love you too, so much more than you’ll ever know, eddie.” you breathed out.

#fairy fics 🤍#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie #fairy drabbles 🤍#stranger things fluff

3K notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months

Text

Pretty boy pt 2

Part 1-

So when you left, you didn’t actually leave. You had followed Hobie, sneaking around behind him. You saw him meet up with two others, and narrowed your eyes.

“Domino? Shatterstar? Jane?” You mumbled.

(Jane is weasel)

“She uh… slipped away..” Hobie said.

“Bullshit.” You mumbled, he had let you slip away.

Pavitr groaned “Bro, this is why we said we were gonna help. We’ll just… regroup tomorrow, Miguel will probably understand.”

“Yeah.” Gwen said, and the three of them grabbed the large cells, the three of your teammates banging on it and yelling.

They walked up to the portals, and you quickly ran up into the one Hobie went into.

You crouched behind him, luckily they were in the room with all the anomaly’s. Hobies eyes widened, and he looked back to see you. His spider sense going wild.

They set them down and went to go debrief. Hobie glanced one more look at you before leaving.

Once you were sure they had left, you went over to domino, Weasel and Shatterstar

“Holy sh- are you guys alright?”

“They beat our asses.” Shatterstar mumbled, sitting down defeated.

“Hey, c’mon. They’re good. Don’t worry, I’m gonna break you guys out.”

“We tried.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and grabbed your katanas from your back, trying to slice through it.

Your katanas broke, and you groaned in annoyance. Great.

A Rhino behind you snickered at you, and you flipped him off.

You sat against the cell, waiting for something.

“What are you doing?” Weasel asked.

“Waiting.”

“For what? They’ll just put you in a cell.”

“One of them won’t.”

—————————————————————-

You waited for a while, and then you heard someone mumble your name. He webbed up the camera beforehand.

You came out from the hiding spot, giant smirk on your face.

“Did you fuckin’ follow me?”

“Had to. Can’t resist my British men.” You said the last part in a mock accent, to which he scoffed at.

“No, I just had to find my friends, who are clearly..” you pointed to them.

“Yeah. Nothin’ personal.” He shrugged. “You all need to go back to your universes.”

“Oh, come on, where’s the fun in that..?” You took off your mask, and batted your eyelashes at him.

“Nope. That ain’t gonna work on me-“

“Worked on you last time.” You said, and in an instant were next to him.

“It ain’t workin’. Nope.” He went to web you up, but instead he hit the walls, because you dodged his webs and grabbed his hands.

You kissed his cheek “Aww. Can’t believe that you would do that to me.” You pouted at him. He stared at you, and moved his hands away.

“All right. Jus’… this is only cause I’m not following orders from Miguel.” He mumbled, and took a few minutes to get everyone out of their cells, and getting them their watches.

“So sweet. You’re such a sweet boy, you know?” You teased.

He swallowed, and looked the other way.

“Sure you don’t wanna take up that offer?” You asked him, turning to your team who was waiting on you.

“Can’t.” He shook his head.

“That’s too bad..”

Then his watch started to beep, along with your guys. A message popped up.

“Anomaly breakout.”

Hobie looked at you guys and sighed. “Can’t believe I’m bout to do this, come on, there’s another way out.”

He led you to a room, a quiet small one with a door in the back, behind all the anomaly’s.

“There’s sensors, so jus’ follow my steps.” He said, and walked carefully. You could tell that he’s been here lots of times before.

Everyone else had gone successfully, while you had accidentally made on wrong step.

A bunch of guns came out from the walls, and pointed at you.

They all looked at you with a “are you serious?” Face.

“Oops….?” All the guns started to shoot at you, you dodged a few, doing cartwheels and just having fun while doing so, but also got shot a few times.

The holes quickly fixed themselves up.

“Ow, too bad I didn’t have my katanas or I would’ve like… destroyed all of them.” You said, and stepped to where everyone else was.

Hobie just stared, in shock.

“Why do I even bother with you anymore.” Shatterstar rolled her eyes as she began walking in front of Hobie, he still just stared.

“Got a staring problem?” You said, he just rolled his eyes.

“Nah, I was staring at the floor. Dunno what you mean.” And continued to walk.

“So… how the hell do we leave now?” Shatterstar said, she had reached the exit, but the only problem was that the exit was a 30 story fall down, one only a spider person could get down from.

“Hobieee..” you sung, and looked at him.

He glared at you, looking down and looking at you again.

“This is fucking mad. Can’t believe I’m still doin’ this.” He grabbed you, and you yelped in shock when he started to fly through the air, you hid in his chest, he just focused on getting you all down.

He then went back for the others, having trouble with Domino specifically, who had refused to be carried by him. But eventually and hesitantly agreed.

Shatterstar was also saying no at first, saying that he was below her. He just rolled his eyes and picked her up anyways.

“There, you all happy now?” He said.

“Yes we are. Thank you.” You kissed his cheek again.

“So.. back home it is for us..” Jane mumbled.

“Yeah. I guess so.” You set the watch to your guys world, and looked back at Hobie.

“If you ever want, here ya go.” You handed him a small ripped piece of paper, with the words “world 10890.” (Jus made sum up LMFAOO)

The paper had small smiley faces, and hearts, along with some unicorns on it, and a horribly drawn stick figure you saying “come visit (::”

He just stared at you, then he leaned over, and gave you a proper kiss.

“Yeah.. I’ll come visit.” He mumbled, putting the paper in his pocket as you smiled.

“Till next time, pretty boy.” You saluted him as you backed up into the portal.

——————————————————————

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #deadpool!reader #spider punk x y/n #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you

188 notes · View notes

lunaviee · 11 months

Text

04. JEALOUSY…?

(with some writing below)

rin states at your instagram post. annoyed.

it’s a weird feeling, he thinks. he doesn’t even know you, so why is he so annoyed at isagi for getting so close? all he knows is that your favorite pen to use is a pale blue one that’s running out of ink soon. and how you get annoyed when that one strand of hair gets in your face. and that you take off your bracelets when you write because they’re uncomfortable. and that he catches you glancing at him sometimes.

oh. okay, maybe he does know a bit about you..but that’s no reason to be so jealous, right? whatever, he doesn’t need this right now. he should focus on school no matter how many times you catch his eye.

————————————————————————

you walk into class and see a worker standing around the area where you would normally sit. you look at your teacher and he holds up a finger, indicating you to wait a moment. so you do.

soon, the worker (which you find out is a remodeler) calls your teacher over and you and your classmates are left conversing with each other.

“what do you think they’re doing?” a voice asks you, trying to start conversation.

you turn around, still keeping your eyes on the two men near your seat “i’m not sure…my guess is-” you freeze. you finally look at who you’re talking to and it’s rin. you’ve only heard him speak once and you were a bit too flustered to remember what he sounded like. he was quiet in class and didn’t even know he existed up until a few weeks ago.

his voice is smooth and low, which makes you just a tad bit nervous…

“uh huh? you were saying?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you. “oh right. uh my guess is they’re fixing the charging plug next to my desk. it doesn’t work” you finally look into his eyes to answer. his eyes are pretty..icy irises surrounded by long eyelashes.

“hm.” he hums back in response. before either of you could say anything else (if you even wanted to), your teacher makes an announcement.

“alright, all students seated in columns 8-12 are moving desks. everyone else, go to your seat please.”

you turn back to rin and your eyes meet again. you were sat in column 12 and rin was in 10.

“uh do you wanna-” you start.

“yeah sure” rin walks past you and towards 2 empty desks.

even though there were only 36 people in your class, the size of your classroom was able to fit just under 50 students, so finding an empty seat was easy. (you really aren’t sure why your teacher had assigned seats in the first place…)

when you sit down, you take out your notebook and pencil case. well, it seems like you didn’t properly close your pencil case all the way when you last used it, and one of your pens had dropped. you lean over to get it, your head being dangerously close to the desk…

rin sees this and his hand slides over to the edge of the desk while you’re grabbing your pen, making sure you don’t accidentally hit your head.

once you sit back up, rin’s hand is back to its original spot before you can notice it had ever even left. your teacher walks back up to the front of the classroom and assigns a worksheet for the rest of the class period.

“work with a partner if you need to, i’ll be dealing with the remodeling situation.”

the word “partner” makes you glance at rin out of the corner of your eye. unfortunately, his eyes are set on his own paper.

though, his eyes do flicker to your desk as he watches you shake your favorite pen in hopes of using it again before it’s completely out of ink.

PREV | NEXT | MAIN EVENT

oh my god i’m SO sorry i didn’t upload for so long and this chapter SUCKS😭i’ve been so busy recently and writers block definitely doesn’t help

TAGLIST — @jaeheekangslover @disoriented-fish @itzsora @tamimemo @punkhazardlaw @bxddiebloss @userwithlotsoftime @anurst @vvasant @l0v3do11 @reiners-milkbiddies @ilytrinsworld @hyeenct @yunxbin @raidenshogunmommy @livelaughloveisagiyoichi

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock fluff #rin itoshi smau #itoshi rin smau #infrunami smau

204 notes · View notes

lewkwoodnco · 7 months

Note

omg hi you said you were opening requests for lockwood in general and not just songfics so i was wondering if you could write one where lockwood gets hurt in a mission trying to protect reader (they’re dating) and when they get back to portland row she gets mad at him and they have a really bad argument that ends up with the reader saying she doesn’t love him anymore (shes lying) and wants to leave lockwood and co !! (if it’s possible for you to end it on a happy note it would be amazing but if it’s hard to write there’s no pressure)

only love can hurt like this - Lockwood x Reader

Psst I now have a taglist! yippee!

A/N: okay SO I know the title is from a song but it’s nottt a song fic and gosh this made me realise what a crutch music has been in my writing 😭 if any of y’all have more non-songfic requests I would rlly appreciate it 🙏the beginning's a lil fluffy hehe, inspired by this post! P.S. condolences for shadow and bone </3, wc 4.7k She was in the kitchen when George and Lockwood returned from their case, dusty and exhausted, and fixed up some tea for them. George took his tea up to his room with a mumbled thanks and Lockwood pressed a distracted kiss to her temple as he pulled out the biscuit tin. She made a calculatedly casual remark about going down to the basement to help Lucy sort out their storage, at which he rolled his eyes and pulled her into the chair next to his.

But that was about an hour ago, and now she could hear the tired flipping of pages and stacking of files from the library, where he was buckling down to fight the growing pile of paperwork on his desk. He's facing away from her when she steps in, and from the looks of it, the paperwork seems to be winning.

"I know you wouldn't want to make a fuss..."

He stiffens, and when he turns there's an incredulous tilt to his eyebrows and the ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. She keeps a hand over the candle's flame as she walks in balancing a card and cupcake on her palm.

"How did you find out?"

"I badgered Barnes for your birth certificate. Took me months."

"That can't be legal."

"Don't think he minded much in the end. Anyway, the card was like a pound and the cupcake is a gift from Arif so you can't refuse either of them."

He smiles despite himself, glancing through the card with a bemused interest, red glitter coating his fingertips.

"Well, I didn't know I was your 'precious sweetheart.'"

"Oh, shut up. It was that or a condolences card."

"Hmm, this card really is the gift that keeps giving. 'To my dearest darling...'"

"Maybe I should have had a look through."

"...blah blah blah 'perfect day for my adorable sweetheart -'"

"What on earth kind of a shop is Arif keeping?"

"'Happy birthday handsome'?"

"I think we're done with the card!" She snatches it from him and stuffs it under the large stack of papers on his desk, face burning, but it still takes him a while to laugh it out of the system. It's an endearing sight to see him so carefree, if exhausted, and even after months of dating she watches him shyly through her eyelashes. His haggard face makes it easy to see him as far more than only a year older, but for now it's enough that he's laughing and alive.

"First and last time I trust Arif's judgement on birthday cards."

That sets him off again, though he has the decency to try and choke it down, but even his suppressed amusement is infectious enough to make her lips twitch. She hadn't realised what a stirring experience it would be to watch him celebrate another year alive. He looks like he wants to say something, but she's not sure she can bear it.

"Y/-"

"Shh, just blow the candle out. Wait! You have to make a wish."

He sighs dramatically, but acquiesces, briefly muttering invisible words under his breath with closed eyes before blowing out the candle. She tries to match the fluttering of his lips to words but nothing quite fits, and she half wonders if he's spouting incomprehensible gibberish just to appease her. It isn't until he pulls out the candle and jabs her with it that she realises she was staring.

"You want to know what I wished for?"

"It's killing me."

"I -"

"No! You can't tell me or it won't come true."

"Y/N, it's a candle in a cupcake."

"I'm not putting up with any of your cynicism on your birthday." She thinks about the overly zealous card, and the crumbling cupcake that would be gone in a few minutes. "Should have gotten you a gift. At least a small one."

"This is perfect. Really."

"Still. Could have scrounged up a keychain, or a mug."

"What, from the kitchen? My kitchen?"

"You know me so well."

"Well," he leans back in his chair, almost superficially nonchalant. "I suppose there is one gift you could give me."

"Anything."

"What's it going to take for you to read the card out loud?"

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

That day had a sluggish quality which made it feel like years had passed by the time they set out for their job at sprawling, if ancient, mansion on the outskirts of London. Looking up at the giant house that nearly completely blocked out the setting sun, relief over knowing where the haunting was centralised washed over her; she wasn't quite in the mood to be running up and down impractically ornate flights of stairs.

The neighbours had reported seeing a ghostly figure drifting aimlessly in one of the open-air courtyards, and occasionally it would appear on the balcony directly above the courtyard, climbing over the railing before vanishing into thin air. Lockwood and George were stationed at the courtyard, Lucy at the stairs, and she on the balcony.

She stepped onto the balcony hesitantly, eyeing a thin, jagged crack running through the stone. The house was too cavernous to be considered flimsy but some of the crumbling walls made her feel as though one good thump would bring the whole place crashing down. She started to unzip her duffel bag when an ear-splitting scream ran through the courtyard.

She jumped, her ear prickling unpleasantly. It was as though the visitor had been standing right next to her, but as her heart rate came down, she realised she wasn't even feeling chilly. She peered down, where George was squinting up at her, Lockwood already with one foot out of their chains. She shook her head, trying to muster a thumbs-up with her fumbling hands, but he was already walking towards the stairs briskly.

She wasn't sure how long it took him to reach her, but it definitely felt longer than it should have. The adrenaline from the scream had made her especially nervy, with a sickly fog of paranoia settling over her mind. Those trees seemed too lush, too dense, dark green leaves quivering under the whims of some invisible wind. She tried to think about the cupcake, and Lockwood's face when he first saw it, and it was enough to stop the balcony from dissolving under her fingertips.

But when he reached her, hair tousled, his grip on her shoulder just a little too strong to be entirely comfortable, she saw a very different version of Lockwood. His lips were moving but there was something rampant in his eyes, something that gave her pause. She glanced at the monstrous night sky, which seemed to threaten to swallow them whole, and then at the inky black heat in Lockwood’s eyes, and she suddenly felt overwhelmed by them both.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Wha - hm?"

"Are you hurt?"

“No, I’m fine. You didn't need to come up here."

His hand slipped from her shoulder, sliding down to her hand, which he stared at as if he couldn't quite understand it.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up, the furrow in his brows dissolving, though he didn't seem ready to let go of her hand yet. “Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. It's just...I...I could have sworn..."

“Breathe, Lockwood. You look like you’re stretched thin.”

"I'm fine," he repeated, but it's somehow more hollow than the last. Part of him turned to leave, but something made him stop. He opened his mouth, then closed it again as if he thought better of whatever he was about to say. The burning in her chest grew.

"You feel it too, don't you?"

He exhaled wearily. "He's playing tricks on us. Maybe Luce should join you here -"

"No, it's best she stay halfway. It'll be fine; we can see each other."

He nodded stiffly, before finally walking away with considerable effort. The balcony somehow felt more alive as Lockwood left, the trees rustling louder than they should as the air around her seemed to contract. It unsettled her.

Eventually the visitor made his appearance, and though her Sight wasn't the best it helped calm her nerves to have something solid to watch out for. He was in the courtyard, dodging Lockwood's salt bombs while trying to fly at George, who was desperately looking for the source. There was only so much help she could give as any flares she threw from her height were only going to hit George or Lockwood rather than the visitor, so she focused on hunting for loose panels or hidden latches in the balcony and the walls of the house from which it protruded.

When she walked back to the railing, she felt a stab of panic at the blanket of grey mist that obscured her vision of the courtyard. She gripped the railing, trying to calm down. She could still hear them, but given what Lockwood had said about the visitor playing tricks, she wasn't sure how much faith she could place in any of her senses. A crash sounded, as if one of the weaker walls had caved in, making her wince. She put her hand on her rapier, steeling herself to make the trip downstairs.

Another crash sounded, but this one seemed to resonate through the mansion's skeleton. There was an awful grinding sound and she felt the floor beneath her feet tilt. She clutched what she could reach of the balcony's doorframe, hanging on by her fingertips, not daring to even breathe as she desperately tried to plant her slippery soles onto the marble floor. Her palms were sweating, and her grip was slipping. She closed her eyes, fed up with the hallucinations, and braced herself for the fall.

Instead of the swooping sensation of falling, she feels strong fingers closing around her wrist. She opened her eyes to the sight of Lockwood pulling her to the safety with a badly scratched cheek, but otherwise unhurt. It makes her want to sob with relief, but she settles for scrabbling for his palm with numb fingers. She leans against the doorframe, reveling in the solid wall pressing against her back, though her relief was short-lived.

The visitor shrieked much closer now, startling her as she turned to watch it hurtling towards them, obsessively staring at the chalice in Lockwood's hand. The growing pit in her stomach swells as she rifles through her belt with increasing agitation, panic stabbing her in the eye with every empty pocket. Lockwood twisted his hand out of her relaxed grip, and in that split second she realised what he was about to do. He took a final step onto what was left of the balcony, and the whole structure came crashing down.

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

Among the roar of the rubble, she picked out what she thought was the sickening crunch of bones, and it took everything in her to fly down the stairs instead of jumping after him. Lucy was already there with George talking on a phone nearby, and their faces paled when they only saw her coming down the stairs. The three of them frantically started shifting through the rubble, yanking at the larger pieces together. She couldn't see the visitor as the dust settled, which saved her the trouble of ripping it to shreds, limb by limb.

She heard a familiar cough coming from under one of the pieces, and with strength she hadn't known that she possessed, she pulls the piece away to reveal a dusty, battered Lockwood. George and Lucy aren't far behind, quickly freeing him from the mountain of debris. This time she does cry out in relief, pressing her fingers into the skull behind his ears insistently, shaking from the blessing that it was to see him alive and breathing. He winces, and her grip on his head tightens reflexively.

"What? What hurts?"

"Your screaming, right now."

As the DEPRAC vans pulled up, George filled out the necessary paperwork on behalf of Lockwood, who was impatiently letting the paramedics check only for broken bones. As the relief of finding him alive faded, all that was left was a smarting irritation. Lockwood would forever and always remain addicted to playing the hero, she knew that, but it didn't piss her off any less, especially when he put his life on the line for it.

Once Lockwood finally managed to shrug off the last exceptionally persistent paramedic, the four of them trudged over to one of the cabs DEPRAC had flagged down for them.

"Hang on - what about the source?"

George turned and she followed his gaze to the team of DEPRAC officers delicately draping an iron net over the rubble.

"Given that it was the balcony itself, I think it's been taken care of."

As they settle into the cab, Lockwood carefully scans her face which is still as inscrutable as it was ten minutes ago. She relents, but only a little, giving his hand a light squeeze. She closes her eyes and leans her head on his shoulder, whispering quietly.

"I wish you'd let them look over you properly."

"M'alright. I can deal with a few scrapes myself. Fractures, not so much."

George's tired voice floats from the front seat.

"You better not have a concussion, idiot."

She feels him still next to her, and suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. Why couldn't he let the paramedics do their job properly? Why did he have to be so stubborn?

She thinks about a night from long ago, before they were dating and before she learnt how to bully him into taking care of himself. They had just come home from a case, and he was sitting in his room in a curious manner: staring at the wall without even realising his door was ajar, or that he was still fully clothed. The patches of skin peeking out from under his clothes were littered with scratches and cuts, but nothing major enough to warrant first aid, save for the bruise on the side of his face. She paused at his door, watching him, and wondered if he knew she was even there.

“No library?”

“Not tonight.”

She didn’t like the way he was speaking. The response wasn’t immediate, as if it had taken him a while to detangle himself from his absorbing thoughts. The tone of his voice was as cordial as always, but there was some kind of agency missing, as if he were in a trance, and it unnerved her. And yet, something tethered her to him, some desire to protect him from some violence brewing close at hand.

“You should really get some ointment on that.”

“I know.”

But he made no movement to do so, and she felt awkward leaving him alone. That was how she ended up sitting next to Lockwood on his bed as the sun started to peek in. There was a misty tinge to the first strains of light, and Lockwood looked so pale she wondered if he was fully solid. She had watched his fragile and ambivalent spirit restlessly pace in the room for the past few hours, while his corporeal form withered lifelessly, but she didn’t understand him any better.

She slipped her fingers in his own, mildly frowning, as if trying to hold on to an increasingly amorphous Lockwood. His fingers reflexively tightened around hers before relaxing just as quickly, his first movement in hours, though his face remained impasssive. His hand remained relaxed, but when she didn't pull her hand away, he allowed his thumb to rest on hers. She had felt some kind of tension then, between the part of him that wanted to drift away and the part of her holding onto him for dear life. But now, the Lockwood sitting opposite her at the kitchen table was slipping through her fingers like sand.

"Y/N, about those conflicting jobs in Hackney - do you want to split up or should I cancel?"

"I don't know, Luce. Why don't you ask Lockwood? Since he seems to always know best."

Lockwood frowns, briefly looking away from the torch George was shining into his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She ignores him, muttering under her breath.

"God forbid someone ask him to try to stay alive."

"Will you cut it out?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, which one of us has a head injury again?"

"I'm fine."

"How dare you lie to my face?"

George clicks the torch off, hastily moving to another corner of the kitchen, while Lucy's weary drifting slows down. Lockwood still looks peeved, but there's a hint of bewilderment on his face. She sighs irritably, pressing her eyelids.

"What I mean is...you don't look fine."

"It's only a bump. Not even a concussion - George checked."

"At least let me ice it for a bit."

"Don't fuss. I'm fine. Just sit and have your tea."

I’m begging you to let me help you, she wants to say. But she doesn't, because she's tired and angry and still very much scared, so she's in no mood for tea. He glances at her face when she continued to stand, and his jaw set when he sees she's in the mood to pick a fight.

"It's like you don't even think you did anything wrong." Do you know how much that terrifies me?

"I was only doing my job as your...employer, landlord, boyfriend...one of them."

"Why must everything be so complicated with you?”

"Fine. I'm sorry I didn't want to watch you break your neck."

And I didn't want to watch the life leave your eyes. "Oh, but yours is fair game?"

He doesn't respond, and it's almost as though she can see the invisible barriers he's putting up between them. She feels a brief stab of panic that she mistakes for anger.

Don't shut me out. "And now the silent treatment! God, you're such a child."

He stops drinking his tea entirely, and it doesn't give her the satisfaction she thought it would. Between the exhaustion from the case and the frustration over the brick wall that was Lockwood, her tongue gets the better of her and she sees red.

"Sometimes I wonder how I ever loved you."

The activity in the kitchen grinds to a halt for a few, terribly long seconds, before George walks out, Lucy not-so-subtlely following him with their tea. The anger on Lockwood's face evaporates, leaving an irritatingly smooth expression of mild surprise. She Silence suspends on the precariously thin string connecting them. He waits, but she doesn't backtrack. She turns away, unable to bear the look on his face.

"I'm...I'm sorry you feel that way."

"I've been thinking about leaving for a while."

"...leave...Portland Row? And go where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere's better than here." Anywhere I don't have to see you make stupid, reckless decisions because of me. Anywhere I don't have to look at you nursing fractures in barely-healed bones. Anywhere I don't have to watch you dither for peace you can never quite seem to reach.

He doesn't say anything, and she's not sure if there's anything he could say. She leaves the kitchen, dragging her feet up to their shared room. She empties the contents of her drawers and closet into a bag as if on autopilot, as she hid in some dark corner of her mind, waiting, begging for some force of God to tell her to stop. Her bags get packed, she gets undressed, and it is only after she turns out the light that she lets herself grieve the life she's leaving behind.

She's looking out of the window when the door swings open, warm light from the hallway spilling into the dark, illuminating her barren nightstand. He pauses at the threshold but she remains completely still, and after a moment or two he steps in, closing the door behind him. He shuffles about, getting ready for bed in the dark, and doesn't look at her face even when climbing into bed. She wants to tell him to try to get some sleep, but she isn't sure if it's her place, so the words remain unsaid.

He was so close she could just...extend her arm...brush her fingers on his back...clumsily soothe the unfettered demons which came out at night. There's a heady oppressiveness to the dark which weighs her down, not as cool and fluid as it normally is, waxing and waning around their shifting bodies and burning skin. The moonlight reflected on the pale patch of skin above the collar of his t-shirt, skin which looked like liquid glass. Close. She was so close to this delicate, temporal force which wrought a religious kind of faith from her hopelessly melancholic soul.

What a misery it was to love.

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

She wakes up to the sun streaming over the rumpled sheets of the empty bed. She sits up, the house significantly quieter than it usually is at this time of morning. In the kitchen, George is standing by the toaster and Lucy's pulling out the sugar bowl, making tea. Lockwood's sitting stiffly in his chair, and he looks much more whole in the daylight, though oddly fragile with the protection of his suit stripped away. Their eyes instinctively meet when she walks in, after which they avoid each other's gaze until much later.

She gently takes her mug from Lucy, brushing off her protests with a distracted pat on her hand. The emptiness from last night hasn't faded, and she puts together a cup of tea and collects 2 pieces of toast mechanically.

Without thinking, she swaps the mug Lucy's placed in front of Lockwood with her own, only realising what she's done when she feels three pairs of eyes on her, her own eyes fixed on the mug in front of him. She clears her throat awkwardly.

"Lockwood doesn't take sugar with his tea."

Lucy probably mumbles an apology, but she isn't entirely sure given how all she can think about is how close his fingers are to hers. She wills her hand to let go of the mug, and it takes a moment to reluctantly cooperate.

"Thank you."

Lucy takes advantage of her pause to place her mug next to his, so she hesitantly takes her seat next to him. She picks up a piece of toast and starts buttering it while Lockwood talks in an unfamiliar voice.

"So...any plans on where you're going?"

"I've got an aunt in Brixton. Might stay there for a while, until I sort out something more permanent."

He gives a half-nod, as if he hasn't bothered to listen to her words too closely. "Well, you're more than welcome to...stay, at least for a while. If you'd like."

"I...don't think that's a good idea."

"I see."

She can't bear the way his face falls before he attempts an unconvincing smile. It makes her heart ache. Even though they're sitting close enough to have their knees occasionally brush, here in this grimly-lit, transparent kitchen, she's never felt more disconnected from Lockwood. She wants to reach out, slip her fingers in his, btu all of a sudden she's paralysed by doubt and she doesn't know how. She slips the buttered toast into his plate. His lips quirk into a faint cursory smile, but it's gone as soon as he turns back to his plate, a vaguely miserable twist to his pallid lips. They eat in silence, and it's the hardest breakfast she's had to endure at Portland Row.

In another life I’m easier to love. I’m less complicated, less convoluted, less given to bursts of self-destructive/violent tendencies.

Afterwards, she gets dressed, but she cant bring herself to leave just yet, so she sits on the bed vacantly, looking up when he . He pauses at the door, looking at where his fingers delicately rest on the doorframe, the same way they always rested on her shoulder when he wanted to dip his head to whisper something into her ear, as if compelled by some unrecognised desire to hold her close. She steels her face but her eyes desperately drink him in, all of his rough edges and limp shadows, the hazy outline of his body. He holds out an envelope.

"What's this?"

"Your paycheck. The last one." He adds in the later bit almost as an afterthought, and it's almost enough to make her stay. She slips it into her bag, choosing not to point out how he had just given out their most recent paychecks just last week.

"I know I can't change your mind, so...thank you for...everything."

He glances at the birthday card on his nightstand, and any regret she had over buying the card instantly evaporates. At least she managed to somehow get out how she felt once upon a time.

"You'll get another next year."

"Don't think George shares my love for cheesy birthday cards quite like you do."

"Do you think I'm making a horrible mistake?"

"Y/N..."

She wants to feel the comforting weight of his hand in hers, wants to lean against him weakly and have him tell her everything would be alright. But her bags were packed, her dresser as bare as her heart, and she can't help but feel as though she would never be happy again.

"Humour me. Please."

He sighs, but relents.

"Up till yesterday I thought George didn't love me quite like you did, so, frankly...I don't know what to think."

"So...you want me to leave?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you want me to stay?"

"I didn't say that either."

"You make me…so scared, Lockwood. And...sometimes...I don’t think you realise it.”

He moves from where he's leaning against the doorway to sit next to her. She leans her head against his shoulder. He lets her.

"You and I both know I won't be around for long. I just want to keep you safe while I'm still here."

"You don't honestly believe that. Right?"

"It's...hard to say. Some days I feel normal. Mostly. Some days I feel like no amount of candles, eyelashes or wishbones can keep me from an early grave. I don't want you around to see it. I put you through so much, Y/N. I can't say you won't be better off without me."

"What about you?"

He smiles bittersweetly. "You're too...kind to see it now, but one day you'll realise that...it's what I deserve."

A silence fills the room, until she breaks it by violently chucking the envelope at his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He gasps and splutters incoherently, still in shock from her attemoted assault.

"It's 'what you deserve'? What you deserve is a good knock on the head!"

"Fine, I'm sorry!"

"Don't ever let me catch you thinking like that again!"

"I won't!"

"What's it going to take to get it into your thick skull? I love you!"

"Okay!"

"I mean it!"

"I get it."

"And don't you forget it!"

"I won't." He wraps his arms around her, and she squeezes his torso aggressively, muttering increasingly extreme threats darkly under her breath. It's a sobering moment to hold each other as a new day blooms outside their window. "I won't."

They pull apart, but she still leans against him, and in that moment it's a dream to be sitting there, pressed impossibly close together, listening to each other breathe.

"I want to take evening walks with you. I want to watch you iron your ties on sleepy Sunday afternoons. I want to lose to you in chess. I want to manhandle you into celebrating your birthdays. I want to rub away the crease between your eyebrows whenever you’re thinking too hard."

Her hand drops from his waist to his wrist.

"Damn it, Lockwood. I want to hold your hand. I want to love you."

He interlocks his fings into hers, distractedly running his thumb over hers.

“Let me help you. Please.”

”I don’t think I know how.”

She tightens her arms around him again, overwhelmed by the burdens stretching out in front of them. Nothing was easy, not even this. Not even him.

"Just...hold on."

"I'm holding on. I'm holding on...to you. I'm holding on...for you."

TAGLIST: @mitskiswift99 @dangelnleif

#fanfiction #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x you #fanfic #lockwood x y/n #requested

104 notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 5 months

Note

Hiii, I absolutely loved immortal it was adorable!

I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic w Gn!reader where when Spencer goes to the swing set after the whole thing with Cat at the restaurant reader also goes there maybe to read a book and it’s a whole meet cute kinda thing cause it’s one of his favorite authors or smth?

sry for the long request I was trying to be specific lmao😭

swinging [ s.r ]

Summary:

You attempt to find your usual late night escape in the empty play park late one evening after an argument with your boyfriend, instead you find a handsome stranger that you find oddly endearing.

WARNINGS: shitty boyfriend (not spencer obviously)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda hurt/comfort)

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: i love hyper-specific requests man don’t apologise 🫶 also college is kicking my ass and that’s why this is so short sorry 😭

“It’s a little late for a play date don’t you think?”

Your comment clearly catches the boy in front of you off guard, his head shooting upwards and his eyes wide like he was in a state of fight or flight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” You take a second to admire the man in front of you through your apology.

His hair was fluffy, bordering curly, and long enough that it was getting caught in his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

His eyes were big, round, and practically glistening in the warm lighting of the lamp post to your left.

He was dressed in a finely pressed black suit fit with a baby blue shirt and a lilac tie that made him look like he’d walked right out of one of those rom-coms where the male lead is a prolific billionaire.

He was gorgeous.

“I came here to wallow in my own self-pity but it looks like you beat me to it,” You can’t help but chuckle softly at your own explanation. “Do you mind?”

You gesture towards the swing besides his with a book held in your left hand and a soft expression, as if to silently tell the beautiful stranger in front of you that if he wanted to be alone that you would feel any offense.

“Uh- yeah- no- no, go ahead,” You don’t even try to suppress the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the way he stumbles over his words, and you take a seat on the swing next to him with a chuckled “Thank you,” as you turn your head down to the open book in your lap, just illuminated enough under the lamp post so you can read the words on the pages.

Any distinguishing factors, including the book’s title were unceremoniously hidden from view as it blends into the night’s shadows, effectively halting curious effort of the boy next to you to figure out what it is.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his lingering gaze, and you follow it down to the novel in your hands before you show off the cover in his direction.

Paramenides by Plato.

“Have you read it?”

Your voice stops his psychoanalysis of your literature choices as he turns his eyes back up towards your face again.

“I have actually,” He nods softly at you with a pursed, slightly awkward smile, the contours of his cheek bones perfectly captured in the dim lighting. “I read it when I was doing my Philosophy degree.”

“No kidding-“ You let out a small laugh in surprise at the fact the cute stranger encroaching on your usual pity party venue just so happened to have a degree in Philosophy.

He also just so happened to have an absolutely beautiful laugh, the sound like a song in your ear as he joins you in laughing about the absurdity of the odds that the two of you both had a keen interest in philosophy.

“So, what brings you out here so late then?” You seem to lose interest in your book as the two of you make eye contact, shutting it in your lap as you turn your shoulders towards him. “No, wait, let me guess, shitty date?”

The boy lets out a breath that could almost constitute as laugh, averting his eyes from you and leaning towards slightly to awkwardly run his hands over his legs. “Something like that-”

You give him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Don’t let it ruin your perception of romance, it’ll work out in the end,”

The boy’s eyes turn up towards you once more as you speak, and your smile becomes a little more awkward as he meets your gaze once more.

“You don’t look like you believe yourself…” His words leaving you blinking softly in his direction, facial expression full of confusion.“Your relationship isn’t going very well at the moment is it?”

Your expression morphs at his question and he immediately backtracks, waving his hands around as he tries to pull back the conversation.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m-” He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before attempting to actually speak a full sentence to you. “I’m a uh profi- A behavioural analyst- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i’m so sorry-“

“No it’s alright,” It was your turn to awkwardly drag your hands down your legs now, fingers curling over the edge of your book as you reach it and fiddle with the metal plating on one of the corners of the cover. “You’re not wrong,”

You can practically see the curiosity in his eyes as you confirm his suspicion. “Is that why you’re here?”

You can hear the cautiousness in his tone as he presses you further, clearly scared about crossing a line, “You said you came here to ‘wallow in self-pity’ earlier…”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of your earlier statement as he repeats it back to you. “We uh, had an argument,”

You play it off as something insignificant, but you can tell that he doesn’t believe you and soon end up finding yourself spilling the entirety of your relationship problems to someone you’ve never met before.

“He has this best friend that he’s like weirdly close to and he stood me up on a movie night we were supposed to have so they could go out together instead-“ You sigh exasperatedly as you replay the nights events in your head.

“I called him to ask where he was and it spun into him yelling at me for ‘not respecting’ his friendship because they’ve been friends longer than we’ve been dating, it’s stupid really-“

“That’s not stupid at all,” He shakes his head determinedly at you. “He’s not respecting your relationship, i’m sorry you have to deal with that,”

You can’t help but feel minorly guilty for making a stranger feel bad for you, but you give him a soft “Thank you,” nonetheless.

You unfortunately don’t have time to continue your conversation as your phone buzzes with a message from your boyfriend telling you that you have to go home to your shared apartment.

With a sigh you pick yourself up from the swing, clutching your book underneath your arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you…” You trail of the sentence with indication for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Dr. Reid- Spencer Reid- Spencer- I’m Spencer....”

You can see the flush spread across his cheeks and over his nose as he stumbles out his name.

“I enjoyed speaking with you Spencer,” You give the cute stranger, Spencer, a soft smile as you prepare yourself to leave, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“I enjoyed speaking to you too,” He returns your smile with one of his own, albeit one that’s slightly more awkward, and you can see his mouth fall open again as if he was going to say something else, but his words fall short.

“Good night,” Your stopped in your walk home almost before it even starts as Spencer calls after you with a new found confidence.

“Wait-“ His voice echoes through the empty play park, and you turn around to meet his glistening gaze once more. “Am I- going to see you again?”

His half-awkward demeanour was oddly charming, eliciting a soft smile that spreads to your eyes.

“I like to read here sometimes, bring a book with you and maybe we can read together…”

Spencer smiles at your indirect invitation to see him here again in the future, and he nods softly at your answer, standing from the swing he was sat on to mirror you. “I’d like that,”

“Good,” You give him another soft smile that joined by a slight tilt of your head. “I’ll see you soon then..”

“Yeah…” Spencer stays stood as he watches you leave to go home, mind running at a million miles a minute as his brain fully comprehends what just happened.

You’re already out of sight before he realises that he forgot to ask for your name.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶

44 notes · View notes

amoremainslayer · 2 months

Note

OMG I WAS DOING THE LE SSERAFIM WORKOUT THE OTHER DAY AND MY WHOLE BODY WAS SO FUCKING SORE , I COULDN'T WALK PROPERLY FOR TWO WHOLE DAYS😭😭 which gave me the idea offfff GYMRAT!Seok Matthew Helping BEGINNER! Reader. I STRONGLY BELIEVE THAT MATTHEW IS THE TYPE TO SUPPORT YOU AND KEEP YOU GOING AND AT THE END HE HELPS U RELIEVE UR SORE MUSCLED BY MASSAGING IT AND JUST CONSTANTLY HUGGING U AND PRAISING U FOR HOW GOOD U DID🤭🤭🤭

💖

GYM RATS - S.MT

Pairings : Seok Matthew x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationship

Warnings : none

A/n : no because I realized I have like nothing written for matthew so I had to make this good😓💔

Not proofread!!

There you stood like a lost puppy, watching him finish his sets on a machine you didn't even know the name of. Matthew finished his sets with a soft groan, looking up to you from his sitting position "Whats wrong baby?" He asked, eyebrows raising in curiousity.

You pouted slightly "Those machines dont work" you frowned slightly and matthew let out a laugh at your cuteness. He climbed off the machine before taking his waterbottle "Let's try again" He spoke reassuringly before letting you lead him to that machine.

As you arrived, Matthew looked at the machine and back to you "How could not do that?" He spoke amusingly, looking down at the leg press.

You snorted and began explaining every little detail of what had happened "... and I tried my best to just lift this fucking plate with my legs, and trust me my legs aren't that weak, but it just couldn't work!" You put your arms in the air dramatically and matthew laughed at you.

"Have you ever tried setting it to a different weight?" He asked while raising an eyebrow and you froze, trying to remember if you did. You could hear him snicker before walking over to the machine and setting it to a lighter weight "Try again now"

You sighed, slightly embarrassed at your dumbness before sitting down on the machine and positioning your feet on the plate "Since it's your first time, you'll do 3x15 sets, alright? With each set we'll put a little bit more weight on it" He explained, positioning himself behind you.

You just nodded silently, before beginning to do your sets. The first set was no problem, but as matthew added some weight to the machine, you felt the burning sensation in your thighs rise. You let out a breath, trying your best to finished the second set.

You let the plate fall back to its original place with a soft groan "Can't we just do 2 sets for now?" You batted your eyelashes at matthew but he just shook his head "3 sets are nothing baby, so just do the last set" he said while putting his hands on your shoulder.

You sighed in defeat, positioning your feet on the plate again before doing the last set. You threw your head back slightly, your thighs trembling as you pushed the plate up with all your strength.

Matthew was watching everything from behind, biting his lip silently as his mind wandered to another occasion where you had looked like this. He shook his head, reminding himself you needed his support so he began giving you compliments and started counting with you.

"13... 14... 15!" Matthew clapped with a smile while you fell back spent out "You did well, love" He grinned making you stand up. At the sight of your legs trembling you groaned "I don't think the gym is something for me" you murmured and rested your forehead on his shoulder which left him laughing at you.

_______

You let yourself fall onto your shared bed, face stuffed into the pillow while whining. Matthew had encouraged (forced) you to spend another 2 hours at the gym with him resulting in sore muscles everywhere.

"I hate you" you groaned as you heard matthew enter your bedroom. You were the first one to shower, so you had to wait a little for him to finally join you. He just laughed, climbing onto the bed before sitting on your legs "Want me to give you a massage?" He suggested and you nodded eagerly, hoping it would get rid atleast of a little bit of the soreness.

With that he began slowly massaging your shoulders, earning muffled groans and moans from you. He worked his way down to your thighs, massaging them with his hand while listening to your noises.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't turned on, but he held himself back, not wanting to give you even more soreness. After he finished his massage, he pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder and layed beside you "It'll fade over the next few times" He spoke, letting you rest on his arm. You snorted softly before sarcastically saying

"There's no next time, matthew"

#amoremainslayer #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #seok matthew #matthew #zb1 matthew #zerobaseone matthew #matthew x reader #seok matthew x reader

25 notes · View notes

rhine-gold-archive · 2 years

Note

that sub xiao fic was amazing😭 can I request sub xiao with a dom male reader? any type of scenario I just like your writing tbh

sub! Xiao x amab! dom reader

A\N: Idk, i hope this works for you

Warnings: nsfw, oral (reader receiving), penetration

wordcount: 800+

He’s naked on his knees in front of you, hesitating, but you don’t rush him. It’s the first time he tries to suck your cock, despite being with you for some time, so he’s extremely out of his comfort zone.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s that he’s so used to seeing himself only as a weapon, thinking that he’s only good for bloodshed. It’s easier for him to be passive in your arms, let you do what you want to him, because then he can’t mess it up and it feels so good to feel wanted.

But deep down, he does want to know he can learn to do something else, for something good, that isn’t tied with death and rage, that he can actively do something that brings you pleasure.

So he asked you if he could do this himself, but his anxiety flares irrationaly now

He licks his lips nervously and tentatively closes his mouth over the tip of your cock, softly swirls his tongue around it, lightly, almost a kitten lick. Then he slowly, carefully slides you deeper, and looks up at you, gold eyes, bright blush, half of your cock in his mouth.

You run your hand through his hair, smile in encouragement.

“You look so pretty like that, baby.”

He blushes harder and starts moving his head up and down, a little clumsy, but eager, sometimes choking from trying to take you too far. You have to control yourself, because temptation to grip his hair and fuck his sweet mouth, fully bury your cock deep in his throat, is so hard to resist when he’s making these little noises, hums and moans and whimpers, keeps glancing up at you with hazy yellow eyes.

But you know that dealing with Xiao requires patience first and foremost, he’s so easy to spook despite his prickly behavior, and you don’t want to overwhelm him when he’s already pushing himself so hard for you.

But then he tries to swallow, still with your cock as far as it can go in his tense throat, and fails, makes a helpless gargling sound, a tiny string of saliva running out of the corner of his mouth, his eyelashes fluttering fast like the wings of the bird trying to take off. The wet and warm muscles contracting around your cock feel so good, especially with the way he looks right now, choking on your dick, you have to take it out to stop yourself from fucking his flushed face until he sobs.

You pull him up to sit on your lap, while he’s coughing, a little disoriented, clutching at your shoulders.

“What did I do wrong?” he asks huskily after he catches his breath, and from how long it took him and how sore he sounds you know you made the right choice to slow down. For now.

“Nothing. You were perfect, baby bird.”

“Don’t lie to me. You would’ve finished if I was good.”

You kiss his swollen lips soothingly.

“Baby, you were too perfect. I had to stop to keep myself from ruining that sweet little mouth.”

He bristles defensively.

“I’m not a fragile mortal. I can take it.

You know that he likes to be fucked hard, to be used and thrown around like a doll, but you also remember that it took him some time to stop tensing up, that first he had to get comfortable in a slower tempo and lower intesity. He values himself too little to think about his own comfort, doesn’t think he deserves being treated gently, so you have to be the one to set the pace and think about his well-being.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re so eager and desperate to be fucked on the mouth…”

He blushes brilliantly, but scoffs with a proud little “Hmph” and a scowl, which is utterly ridiculous and adorable, considering he’s naked in your lap, his dick is hard against your thigh and his mouth is still full of the taste of your cock.

“You didn’t become a fearsome warrior overnight, did you? Give it a little time, baby.”

You run your hands down his spine, pull him closer before groping his ass.

“How about you ride me for now, hm?”

It’s a compromise that lets him have a somewhat active role, but with something he’s already comfortable with. He gasps lightly when he slides down your cock, tight from being tense, his arms around your shoulders and your fingers on his hard dick, while you whisper in his ear, promising all the dirty things you’ll do to him when the time comes, how you’ll fuck his mouth until his thoat is bruised, until his pretty red eyeliner runs when he cries. He whines sweetly, clenches around you, arches and writhes on top of you, and you smile against his skin, knowing you have an eternity to properly play with him.

#rhine writes filth #xiao #sub genshin #sub xiao #genshin smut

537 notes · View notes

brownsugarwrites · 1 year

Text

Ok I love workplace lovers cant you see? 😭

Having a crush on your coworker wasn’t exactly the plan.

You only saw him in passing around campus but he was so hard to ignore. His bright blue eyes covered by his glasses as he held a leather briefcase in his hand. Seeing each other in the halls you always gave him a small hello and went on about your day

As cliche as it is he was a mysterious guy and your curiosity peaked around him.

Seeing you in the hallways was like seeing an angel ever so often. Your sweet face giving him a smile and a small lil hello as you crossed paths.

You always had a coffee in your hand with your lesson plans tucked into your chest with the flowery workbag hanging off your shoulder. he thought you were adorable.

Leaving after his last class he saw you picking up your things that had falling out of your hands.

You were mumbling to self being slightly embarrassed of dropping your things.

"Here let me help you" a voice said bending down to your level

Looking through your eyelashes it was him. Your handsome ass coworker offering you help with your things.

"Oh thank you so much" you said flashing that sweet smile as you tried to get the rest of your things.

"Wheres your room? ill help you carry these things back" he said pushing up his glasses so you could see his face more

Not wanting to miss the opportunity of getting to know him you guided him to your office.

Walking in front of you he noticed the waist length twist with little butterfly clips on some of them. It was cute.

Telling him to set ur things down on the chair you gave him your thanks as he smiled

"its no problem. Im Dr.Kennedy. Over the mathematics department" giving his hand for you to shake.

Introducing yourself you shook his hand in return. taking in your office it was what he expected from you.

There was pictures of your friends families and colorful pens everywhere. What attracted him the most was your bookshelf filled with all types of book

Noticing his eyes drifting towards the book shelf you asked him if he wanted to take one.

"No , im fine thanks but you have a wonderful collection"

Feeling your face warm you gave him a thank you. He was so handsome in his 2 piece suit and tie. You were thankful you dropped your things

"Thank you again Dr. Kennedy." you said sitting in your office chair

"You're more than welcome. I hope to see you around more. Dont be a stranger. Good night" he said walking out

Giggling in your chair your started to sort your papers to grade.

The universe was definitely on your side.

#leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x black reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 x reader #resident evil fanfiction #sugars stories

131 notes · View notes

shadowqueenjude · 7 months

Text

She glanced sideways at her companion, who had peeled off his outer layers of clothing to reveal the sweat-drenched shirt clinging to his body. They rounded a hedge, and Celaena rolled her eyes when she saw what waited on the path ahead. Every morning, more and more ladies found excuses to be walking through the gardens just after dawn. At first, it had just been a few young women who’d taken one look at Chaol and his sweaty, clingy clothes and halted their walk. Celaena could have sworn their eyes had bulged out of their heads and their tongues had rolled onto the ground. Then the next morning, they’d appeared along the path again—wearing even nicer dresses. The day after that, more girls showed up. And then several more. And now every direct route from the game park to the castle had at least one set of young women patrolling, waiting for him to walk by. “Oh, please,” Celaena hissed as they passed two women, who looked up from their fur muffs to bat their eyelashes at him. They must have awoken before dawn to be dressed so finely. “What?” Chaol asked, his brows rising. She didn’t know whether he simply didn’t notice, or he didn’t want to say anything, but … “The gardens are rather busy for a winter morning,” she said carefully. He shrugged. “Some people go a little stir-crazy being cooped up inside all winter.” Or they just enjoy the sight of the Captain of the Guard and his muscles. But all she said was, “Right,” and then shut her mouth. No need to point it out if he was that oblivious. Especially when some of the ladies were exceptionally pretty. --- She found Dorian watching her with a half smile, an amused gleam in his eye that made her want to slap him. The prince then glanced at Chaol and chuckled. “And here I was, thinking that all the ladies were out so early for Roland and me. When all of them catch a vicious cold, I’ll let their fathers know that you’re to blame.” Chaol’s cheeks colored ever so slightly. So he wasn’t as ignorant of their morning audience as he’d led her to believe. “Lord Roland,” he said tightly to Dorian’s friend, and bowed. Chaol ignored the man as Yrene finger-combed her tangled hair and spoke to the ancient woman in his tongue. “I take it the good crowd this morning is thanks to you?” Light words—perhaps an attempt at normalcy, considering what had happened in the library. The old woman smiled—such warmth. She was brighter than the sun peeking above the compound walls. “The girls heard a rumor of a handsome lord coming to teach. I was practically trampled in the stampede down the stairs.” She cast a wry grin to three red-faced girls, no older than fifteen, who looked guiltily at their shoes. And then shot looks at him beneath their lashes that were anything but. Chaol stifled a laugh.

Friendly reminder Chaol is hot af😭😭😭

#chaol westfall #pro chaol westfall #crown of midnight #dorian havilliard #yrene towers #tower of dawn

42 notes · View notes

gayandfairycore · 2 years

Text

[Sacrifice] Simon kalivoda x reader

A/n: hi!!! This is my first fic in like four months oh my god! I’m a terrible perfectionist when I wrote so I tend to start wips and never finish them! But I just recently watched fear street for Halloween and fell head over heels for Simon so I decided for my first fic in awhile to be of him! My man deserved better 😭🫶🏻 (this is my first lr second time writing angst? I believe! So apologies of it sucks lol!) I also have to update my master list I don’t write for half the people on there anymore! Also bold and small text means it’s a flashback! And italics mean it’s kinda in simons pov! This is my first fic of Simon so he may be a bit ooc! This is also not proofread

Summary: coming along with the group to save Sam, unspoken feelings arise as it becomes apparent it may be your final night alive. Tho you are determined to not let any of your friends die if you have anything to say about it. Y/n a brash girl decides to fight for love, and her friends lives. Even if it kills her.

Warning: angst, major character death, decapitation, brutal bread slicer, murder, bashing in someone’s skull, OD-ing, drowning, (probably more)

Saving Sam had been the right thing to do you knew this, you voted on not leaving her for dead in the hallway but it didn’t stop the fear of knowing you could be going to your death in a fucking grocery store.

You weren’t even sure how you got mixed up in this, oh wait. No you do remember, you were hanging out with Simon and Kate whilst they babysat doing nothing but talking about stupid shit, with Simon and watching jaws, and sitting in between his legs.

Everything had been fine Until deena had called Kate telling her that sams boyfriend had broken into her house for some dumb prank wearing a skull mask.

No one had expected the same dude in a skull mask to be in the house Kate babysat in, Rummaging through laundry? It was safe to say y’all were freaked.

Honestly none of you were prepared to fight century old murderers you all were along for this ride, but there was no way you’d be hopping off this ride. Not when your friends lives had been in the line, Fuck that.

So here you were standing in a grocery store in bad smelling lost and found clothes, watching as Simon told Sam exactly how to od.

Safe to say you didn’t think you’d watch Simon, your simon, your best friend and crush since diapers teach your other friend how to od on a Friday night. But there’s a first time for everything.

The epi-pens had been bunched in your hands as you listened to simon tell the group when each pile was to be taken.

“You need to take these in order. Now pile one takes the edge off. You’re gonna feel kinda like you’re being fucked by a unicorn!” Simon spurs off his hands gesturing wildly as he smiles at Sam and Deena through his eyelashes

“Pile two is gonna bring your core temp way down, you may feel slightly sick?” He shrugs, a deep serious rasp is in his usually carefree voice.

“Now you need to take a five minute interval between pile two. And pile three. That’s really important, okay?” A deathly serious look takes over his eyes as he stares at Deena and Sam

“Pile three brings you down and out, so you gotta take that “take five” or it’s all gonna go to shit!” Simon instructs his hands gesturing towards the pile rings glistening.

“How many of these do we have?”kate questions gesturing towards you carrying the epi-pens

“Y/n darling pass me the pens” Simon speaks softly, turning towards you, with a toothy grin; before taking them from your grasp lightly

And stating, “Tons like a thousand!”

“Wait? Epi-pens?” Deena asks her eyebrows screwn in confusion

“Epinephrine? Also known as adrenaline. This is what brings her back.” You pipe up determined smile on your face, a proud glint glistens in Simons brown eyes.

“This is Jesus!” He adds shaking the pile of epi-pens.

It was only when you were Smearing sams blood on yourself did you truly feel the fear set in; fear, determination, and anger was all that flowed through you. As you all took different corners in the grocery store a feeling of grief overtaking your heart. As you took the front entrance near The fruit and veg aisle.

Even tho no one had died yet, your old selves would surely have to die if you wanted to survive this. It wasn’t fair, why did you have to lose yourselves,

What did you and your friends ever do to be here today, in this grocery store leading killers away from your other close friend who was meant to be fucking murdered. It wasn’t fair, on anyone.

Century old killers had come to strike again and hurt innocent people, like Simon. He was the sole provider for his whole family, sure he’s a bit of a junkie but it doesn’t mean he should die.

It didn’t mean Kate should die, or josh, or deena, or Sam. No one deserved this not the victims who came before you, or the ones that would come after if you failed. You felt filled with determined to end this. Or die trying.

The fluorescent lights seared a deep blue through the deserted store. Your heavy breathing could be heard as ruby lanes singing surrounded your corner of the grocery store your feet planted on the floor in a crouch of the fruit and veg aisle the cool spray of the water that kept the lettuce wet could be felt on your skin it was oddly refreshing, you’d die wet, and with veggies. Tasteful.

Your forehead felt damp with a mixture is sweat and dew, as ruby’s singing growing louder and louder, your hand gripped your mouth with the strength of whitening knuckles to silence your breathing. As ruby crept closer and closer. Until the singing stopped?

Just as you let out a sigh of relief, the brunette girl had pulled you from your crouched position by your hair, springing up she swing her razor towards your face, knicking your cheek as you felt the sticky red substance leak from your newly acquired cut.

“You bitch!” You exclaimed the pads of your fingers stained a bright red, anger blazed in your eyes, as your fingers tangled in her up do.

Pulling her hair back with enough force to rip a chunk out of her head, the pale girl begin to kick and scratch at you, her razor blade discarded with the shock of her hair being pulled.

Her heels stepping on your converse clad feet, before she whirled her fist back, the sound of her fist colliding with your nose and cheek, her punch was enough to stun you as the bright red blood trickled from your nose, towards your lip, you could taste blood. Bringing your toungue up towards the top of your lips you licked the excess blood leaking from your nose. Breathing heavy your hair messy, and matted.

You Spat the excess blood from the punch into the linoleum flooring you begin to back up, slightly stumbling over your shoes.

In that time ruby had grabbed her razor and started singing, walking slowly towards your retreating figure, the cool leg of a ladder had pressed against your back. Not taking your eyes off of the girl you slipped through the middle in attempt to get away from her.

“Cmon ruby Don’t you know it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder!” You nervously chuckled the brunette just smiled at you. As your eyes searched frantically for anything to help you

a tool box had laid discarded by the maintenance ladder. The yellow rubber of the handle of a hammer caught your eye, like a angled beacon of hope.

“Alright bitch, let’s level the playing field.” You whispered your face hardened with anger as you crouched down for it, your hand almost reaching it.

before you felt your leg being pulled out from under you, as your body hit the linoleum floor with a SMACK! Groaning you turned over to face ruby, something unknown glinted in your e/c eyes. Pity? Anger? Or was it Sexual tension?

“Damn ruby” you smiled “take me to dinner first!” You wheezed out your body had hit the ground with enough force to make you see stars.

As the brunette psychopath smiled at you she brought her razor blade down towards you, whisky you wriggled underneath her weight, the sledge hammer sitting so close but yet so far away from you. Your finger tips only just scraped it, whilst Rubys razor cutt deeply at your arm, and then your stomach, a scream had left your throat as the white hot pain of being stabbed seared within your flesh. The girl had turned her razor blade whilst it had still been in your stomach. Tears leaked from your eyes, as you inhaled sharply stretching just fat enough to grip it by your side.

Your vision dotting with black spots as you closed your eyes and focused on what you could control, you tried to suppress the shock your body was going into by remembering Simon. And where you were and the pain you felt.

Feeling the pain meant you were still alive, focusing on what was happening meant you’d be alive to save Simon.

You refused to die here, in the fruit and veg aisle with a psychopath topping you, and stabbing you repeatedly. You knew what you had to do you had to breathe, as a million thoughts pounded through your skull.

Time it just right y/n-the side of her head -I have to save my friends-I have to save Simon-breathe y/n-I think I’m dying-I’m losing too much blood-fuck being stabbed hurts-

Rubys had tilted her head down, savouring this moment. it was the right time. Whirling the hammer as hard as you could into her skull blood spraying when the force of the hammer collided with her skin as it split the first few layers smashing her skull in the process,the deafening crack of rubys skull echoed throughout the store.

You didn’t even remember the war cry that left your lips as you smashed her. her black blood spluttered against your cheek as the pale girl tumbled off of you.

“Good riddance bitch.” You exclaimed, spitting the blood that got in your mouth on her dead corpse.

your hair messy and tangled,and bruises were sure to start forming on your body, as red pools of blood had stained your shirt, your body aching in protest with your movements adrenaline swirling through you. As you wondered your way further down the store.

Your bloody hammer in your hand, you were in desperate need on a fucking Band-Aid.

Kate’s screams weee the next to quieter the atmosphere of the store with fear, but you couldn’t worry about Kate. You needed pain killers.

Simon heard your screams, the blonde haired boy had known it was you immediately, stifling his sobs he held hope that you would survive.

Until he heard the crack! And then deathly silence. His ears rang with anxiety “oh no, no, no! She can’t be dead, she can’t be.” he found himself thinking at the insinuation of your potential death. Tears welled in his blue eyes as thick spit began to moisten his throat with his stifled sobs

He didn’t care about the chaos around him only you. Kate’s screams had been the next to fill the grocery store. The silence after hers had felt less forgiving.

the sticky substance had cling to you seemingly everywhere, your white band shirt had been sliced and covered in bright red pools of blood. Majority yours.

the sight of your disheveled appearance in a reflection of a fridge at the bottom of the aisle had you double checking it was you, blood covered seemingly every inch of you your adrenaline levels high, despite your desheveled appearance and your wounds you didn’t feel it.

You couldn’t you were running on adrenaline, and your only weapon a god damn hammer.

But you didn’t have much choice you decided, taking a shaky breath and moving further into the store, deena and sams discarded pill bowl was the next thing you saw.

Kates screams went quiet, and your shaky breathing filled your ears as your frantically beating heart slammed against your rib cage. As you crept towards where Kate was stationed.

Your hearing seemingly deafened, when you saw Kate’s carnaged head sheathed through in the bread slicer. A shaky “oh…my…god” left your lips as the souring ting of her blood stained your throat.

And you thought being stabbed was bad.

Every inhale stung with the bitter taste of blood that filled the air, it tasted bitter and stale, as the sound of running could be heard behind you. When both josh and Simon had piled out of two aisles not long after you. Them Too witnessing the carnage body of their friend.

The sight of Kate’s mangled body had stifled the boys “I think I’m gonna puke” Simon whispered, “me too.” You chuckled uncomfortably, simon could’ve sworn he had never turned his head so fast he almost had whiplash

When he saw you it was like everything melted away as Simon saw you, alive and breathing. Simon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh fuck- y/n!” Simon exclaimed shakily, when he realised it was infact you, Simons heavy breathing filled your ears as he pulled you into a desperate hug, his pale hands clutching your head and lower back, as you wrapped yours around his back and shoulders Holding on for dear life.

Both of you had been shaking. “Oh my god y/n! Are you okay?!? Whose blood is that?” Simon rambled out, when he pulled back from the embrace.

“It’s mostly mine, but don’t worry I got a few good hits on her too.”

“Mostly yours?!?” He exclaimed giving you a once over “oh my god” he was so excited to see you, he didn’t even assume that you could be hurt. His fearful brown eyes turned to look at you it was enough to break your heart.

As you brought him into another embrace, inhaling sharply, when you realised

Your sledgehammer had been discarded next to you during your reunion, and the sight of a rapidly approaching Tommy slater was gonna put a damper on things, it was apparent time was of the essence.

So you did the only thing you could do. You pushed Simon out of the way with all of your might, watching the blonde boy slide away from you, his horrified expression sending a sharp stab to your heart.

Or that might’ve been Tommy’s axe that was planted in your shoulder, yours ears rushed with blood, your heart beating frantically in your chest, your friends had called out your name as your knees hit the linoleum with bruising force.

A delayed scream ripped from you, as Tommy’s axe sucured itself in your shoulder, you called out to your friends, your head staring up at Tommy’s bagged head anger apparent in your eyes as you brought yourself to your feet calling to your friends.

“GO RUN!” Before pain stakenly slowly pulling his axe from you left hand shoulder flipping it over in your right hand you looked Tommy right in his bagged face where his eyes should be and whispered a

“Fuck you.” Before swinging his own axe into his neck successfully decapitating him, his body cluttered to the floor as you stared at his flannel clad headless body before turning towards the way simon went.

Simons choked sobs had been enough to make you start crying more then you already were, as the blonde boy had began muttering to himself “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit” as he was sitting with his knees to his chest in an aisle fully believing he had just sealed the death of the girl he had loved.

“Si?” You spoke from the top of the aisle, the fluorescent lights made you look stunning, the blue and pink of the lights framed you as if you were an Angel.

“Y/n?!?” Simon called out his tearful eyes glistened in the lights, Simon was just happy to see you made it out from the clutches of Tommy, he didn’t care you were covered head to toe in blood, h/c knotted, and bleeding profusely. He still thought you looked beautiful leaning your bleeding body on the axe that could’ve killed you.

He pulled himself to his feet, running over to you, and pulling you into his arms, before sliding down to the floor, your bloody body being moved gently sideways in his lap.

“You-you saved me?” And “oh god why would you do that?!?” He whispered softly as he held your cheeks with such gentleness as he rocked you both, it felt safe being in simons grip.

Sitting in his lap had felt like everything would be okay. Like you finally didn’t need to fight anymore. Like he was going to fight for you. Simons other hand had been frantically putting pressure on your shoulder wound.

You were losing too much blood, your head felt woozy, and your eyelids had felt heavier then they ever were, your breathing had begun to shallow. Simon prayed that deena had finally killed Sam and this was all over.

And luckily for him one of those were true, Deena had succeeded in killing Sam, and bringing her back. And an ambulance and police cars had been dispatched.

With every rock of your body simon had held you with increasing tightness it was like he was forcefully holding ro this earth, for just a minute more.

He felt as if his prayers went unanswered when you gripped his pale hand he held to your face and whispered

“simon…si-“

“No! no, don’t speak save your strength” simon whispered gripping your blood covered hand.

“Simon-” Your grip, tightened.

“-im d-dying, I want you to have this.”

Simon had felt like he had just been stabbed you couldn’t be dying! How could you just accept that you were dying?

Wheezing as you gripped the cool silver of your locket, tearing it from your chest, your chest rattling with each breath.

“Si I want you, t-to have it.”

your eyes drooped before lazily staring up at him through your eyelashes.

Letting go of his hand on your cheek you Brough your hand to his cheek before smiling up at him your teeth covered in blood, your body groaning in protest as you begin to move your head forward to place a lazy kiss on his lips.

Slumping back slowly to your previous position in his arms blood began to trickle from your mouth as you choked out a

“Oh si- p-please don’t cry…”

He didn’t even realise he had been crying.

As Your hand shakily held his cheek throughout your love confession placing a bloody hand cheek on his pale skin, you attempted to smile a bloody smile.

“Remember…I’ll always…be… with you-“

“I love you”

Before your grip on his cheek loosened, falling to the floor limply, before…nothing? The grocery store grew silent, It was silence for the last time that night. There was no sound of your breathing, or his friends screams, or the sound of splashing water or the sound of shoes running on linoleum, only his own choked sobs.

“Y/n? Y/n please answer me” He cried wiping his cheeks of his tears your blood staining his hands as you lightly smacks your face.

“Cmon y/n” smack! “wake up!” Smack!

“Please y/n…” simon muttered in defeat, his sobs loud enough to alert his friends what had happened.

“Please don’t leave me” he cried his grip tightly holding your cooling cheeks your head lulling to the side limply with any movement.

You had looked so peaceful in his arms, your eyes closed, a ghost of a smile on your face, it was apparent you had no regrets.

You were prepared to die for your friends, and die you did, you were brave in life, and braver in death.

Though it didn’t stop simons distraught thoughts to cloud his judgement, he was looking for someone to blame, was it Sams fault? She disturbed the witch, was it deenas? For asking you all to save Sam sacrificing yourselves in the process? Was it’s Kate’s? For being so sure that this plan would work? was it Josh’s? For telling us about Sarah fier, or was it his own. For bringing you here and not turning you away? Telling you to run for the hills and never look back? Or was it your fault? For pushing him out of the way. Simon knew it was wrong but be blamed every single person there.

None so much as he blamed himself, clutching the locket he gave you it reminded him of the time you told him that you’d never take it off, you’d rather have died then taken off the locket.

The chilly night air of the park had bitten your skin as you sat on an old park bench, wrapping your arms around your shoulders and attempting to rub out the goose bumps that had begun to form

Checking your watch every two minutes “god I swear! If simons left me out here in the cold I’ll kill him.”

You spoke staring up into the stars angrily, kicking your foot off of the park bench and jumping down you decided to start your walk home, in the cold, dark night.

In shady side, alone. Yep you were definitely gonna kill him. You had made your way half way down the path near the cover of trees before you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing.

As they wheezed out an exhausted “y/n!” Before yelling again a little louder, “y/n!” You knew it was Simon but you were still a little mad at him for making you wait thirty minutes in the cold alone at night so you decided to you with him.

“HELP SIMON!” You yelled out mustering hopefully enough faux fear to fool Simon that you were actually in trouble before you let out another blood curdling scream.

“Oh god y/n?!?” Simon called out running in your general direction, stifling a chuckle as you hid yourself behind a tree, laughing at simons scared expressions.

You actually started to feel a bit bad when he called out for the 3rd time in a row voice wavering as he did so, so you knew it was time to throw in the towel and come clean.

Jumping out at simons turned figure shit eating grin on your face at the scream he let out “holy shit! You should’ve seen your face!”

“Oh haha, very funny y/n! I see how it is” Simon sulked sitting down on the dew covered grass breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

“Oh come on! You can’t really be upset?” You asked, planting yourself next to him on the grass, kicking his leg with your leg.

Truth be told he wasn’t upset, he was just relieved that you were okay, and just scared about what he felt when he didn’t see you at the park bench.

“Yes I’m upset! I thought something happened to you!” He exclaimed shaking his head, chuckling at something that popped into his head.

“Whatre you laughing at?”you asked, smiling wildly before placing a hand under your chin and smiling cheekily “My devilish good looks?”

Simon scoffed, “pfft- no! They are no laughing matter!” He said kicking your shoe clad foot lightly “but what I was laughing at was if you ever did get attacked? Can you imagine that? God they’d go crying back to their mamas if they ever faced you!”

“You’re a kicker!” Simon exclaimed toothy grin on his face as you let out a mock gasp “ah! I am not!”

“You so are!”

“Am not!” You pushed

Simon smiled “Are too”

“Am not!” You frowned pulling up some grass and throwing it at him

“Are too!” He replied “but I love ya anyway”

“Oh shut up! You blushed

“what did you want anyway? You called me to the park at the middle of the night and then left me for 30 minutes!”you spoke turning to look at the blonde boy

“Ah! Right, I wanted to give you this.” He replied looking suddenly bashful as he searched his pockets for something.

“I uh…think I lost it when I was looking for you?” Simon spoke scratching the back of his neck as he searched his pant pockets coming up empty handed aside from a button, a stick of gum, and a tissue.

“Simon!” You exclaimed in exasperation“what was it anyway?”

“It was uh, it was a locket!“ a blush littering simons cheeks as he grinned an embarrassed smile his tooth gap on full display.

“Awww Simon, That’s so sweet. thank you! If we ever find it I promise I’ll never take it off!”

Both you and Simon spent three hours in that park in the middle of the night searching for your locket, no flashlights, just the light of the moon.

It didn’t matter if you both caught a cold a couple of days later, both you and Simon had spent hours together searching, you didn’t find it.

If Simon was being honest majority of the time he was just looking at you, in the moonlight, your hair falling in your face, as you chuckled at how dumb this whole thing was.

“Hey y/n why don’t we just call it a night and go back to yours?maybe watch a movie if something?” The blonde boy asked slightly disheartened by your disappointed expression

“Aww okay!” You called back hands on your hips and frown on your face, as both you and Simon walked back to your house, the warmth of the pretty much empty house was already better as you both snuck back into your room turning on a vhs of some random movie you had throwing off your shoes and getting under your covers

Pulling Simon down with you, as you laid your head on his chest, at first the boy didn’t know what to do his hands stayed away from you until you looked up through your droopy eyes

“What…areee you waiting for? Put your arms round me” you slurred sleepily Simon brought his arms to rest around your midriff as he called out your name

“Y/n?”

“Mm”

“I actually didn’t lose the necklace…”

“Hmm then Why did we spend hours looking for it?” You asked your head still planted firmly on his chest, eyes closed on the verge of sleep

“I just didn’t want the night to end…”

“I didn’t want it to end ‘ither, god I love you…” you yawned out giving in to the bliss of sleep

Simon froze at your words his eyes blowing wide, he just pulled you more into him holding you close to his body.

“I love you too.” He smiled placing a kiss on top of your head “I love you too…”

The memory just made him want to cry over and over again.

Until the red and blue lights off the ambulance and cop cars arrived, his tears shone in the reflection of the lights as he stifled his sobs, his hands gripping your body tighter as the paramedics piled in.

he wouldn’t let go of your body, clinging desperately too you. His friends hands on his shoulders were the only thing that got him to let go. Even tho he physically gave you over, your weight felt like it was still there, choking him.

Joshs face has been watching Simon his hand on his shoulder concern clear in his features “simon…”

Simons red and blotchy face wet with tears glanced up at him

“she’s dead, josh.” His voice hardening anger and despair setting into his voice as he continued;

“she’s dead because of me…”

#simon kalivoda x reader #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street fanfic #fear street x reader #simon kalivoda #fear street simon #simon kalivoda x fem reader #fear street 1666 #fear street 1978

332 notes · View notes