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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

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Chapter 27 - Block Out the Haters

Hello beautiful people! How I've missed writing and uploading! I'm so sorry for the delay but this chapter and Across Every Universe part 2 had been in creation for a while. But expect a few updates this weekend!

I love you all and thank you for being so appreciating and patient!

Your body felt as though it was on autopilot as you walked through the paddock on Sunday morning. The weekend was kind to you. You completely dominated all the free practices and you’d be starting the race today on pole.

However, it wasn’t the weekend that was unkind.

It was them.

And it was all because of him.

Checo had decided to show up to the paddock at his former home race on Thursday. And like all “good” journalists do, they ask questions that bate people to speak words that can be turned into something they’re not.

Yet, the Mexican had spoken out with his chest puffed out and words full of confidence.

“I see my replacement has done well in the car. Too bad that she’ll be replaced soon enough. Like she did to me, someone will take her seat and brag about how great they are, leaving the old driver in the dust. It’s only a matter of time.”

Ah yes, only a matter of time until Red Bull drops you. The team that you had complete confidence in was not a ticking time bomb in your mind.

What if you didn’t convert pole into a win?

What if you accidentally took Max and yourself out of the race like Charles did to Checo in 2023?

What if the team can finally see how replaceable you were?

It had happened before…at Prema.

Number 1 driver to ending a contract early.

But this time, you were even further down the totem pole than you were at Prema.

You were a rookie and the second driver.

Replaceable and forgettable.

Your headphones were on and blasting music to cover up the nasty words thrown at you from the so-called fans. You had thankfully walked in with Max and Charles, who took the liberty to walk on either side of you. You were slouching as you walked, trying to make yourself smaller between the two men.

At least you understood that Charles and Max knew how you were feeling. Charles, who had been booed at this very race last year. And Max, who seemed to carry boos wherever he walked.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the large crown surrounding the opening to the garage. Checo was in the middle, smiling widely with sunglasses on his face. You froze, not walking any further. The navy and red clad drivers walked a bit before realizing that you weren’t between them anymore.

Max’s eyes flitted toward the garage and then toward a signature blue. He put his hand on your shoulder and lightly pulled one of the headphone cushions away from your ear.

His head jerked in the direction of the blue garage. “Why don’t you go hide in Williams for now. I’ll text you when it’s clear. Christian won’t let them get to you.”

You silently nodded as Max put the headphones back in place before heading in the direction of the safe garage.

Charles crossed his arms as he watched you walk away.

“Merde, I wish Arthur was here this weekend.”

The Monegasque sighed in relief once he saw Logan sling an arm around your shoulders and lead you away toward the back. Alex was following them, parading his limited edition Oscar Piastri paddle.

Max was silent as he gazed at the amount of journalists in front of the garage. He was internally cringing, knowing that the journalist would attack him as well.

Charles threw a smile in his direction as he bumped the sullen Dutchman.

“Do you need to hide in my garage as well? Be babysat Mr. Verstappen?”

The Ferrari driver wiggled his eyebrows as Max rolled his eyes. However, he shrugged and looked straight into Charles’s green eyes.

“Lead the way Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles’s eyes widened for only a moment before grabbing the backpack attached to Max. The brunette gently led the blond away, knowing that his childhood rival didn’t like crowds any more than you did.

You had found yourself hidden away in Logan’s room, on a facetime with your boyfriend. Logan was sitting next to you, trying to reach a new high score on whatever game he was playing. Oscar had somehow also found himself in the American’s room and was currently looking at Alex’s paddle.

The Aussie scoffed as he twirled the offending thing. He was silently listening to you borderline cry to Arthur.

“And then they threw a water bottle at me. And it was one of the metal ones too!” you cried out, hand rubbing your face.

Arthur offered you a sad frown.

“What did you do?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I caught it and I kept it.”

The three men suddenly laughed at your confession. You looked around confused.

“What? It was a nice one!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nicer than the one I gave to my brother to give to you.”

Your eyebrow cocked. “Um no, not Kevin.”

Logan’s eyes glanced at you as he muttered, “You named your water bottle?”

You shoved him, making him lose his spot. “You don’t?”

Oscar suddenly piped up. “That’s a bit childish, don’t you think. And how cliche is it to fall in love with your teammate.”

That earned him an eyeroll as you threw one of Logan’s pillows at him. He caught it easily.

“Sorry Os-cah, at least I can act on it. We all can’t secretly be in love with our teammates.”

A screech erupted from the Aussie’s side of the room. You and Logan giggled as Oscar’s face bloomed red with a deep blush. The pillow came back flying.

“I am not in love with Lando. And plus, I have a girlfriend.”

“Sure. Didn’t stop you from almost kissing Arthur that one time.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “Number 1, it was through glass. Number 2, he leaned in first.”

“Excuse me?” you asked into your phone, looking at Arthur through the screen. Said boyfriend stuttered a bit as he tried to come up with an excuse. He only stopped as you spoke again.

“It’s ok Osc, he has some nice lips.”

A groan left Logan’s lips as he listened to this conversation. He leaned over and snatched the phone from your hands.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, poor connection. Call back later.”

The American pressed the red X as you looked at him in disbelief. Logan quickly deposited your phone back to your lap before picking up his own phone.

Your mouth was still wide open.

You were about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Logan huffed as he stood from the couch and walked toward the door. When he opened it, he was met with Christian Horner and a very pouty Max Verstappen. You sheepishly grinned as Christian just silently pointed over his shoulder and turned around, walking away.

Max stayed at the door, waiting for you as you packed your stuff. You quickly said goodbye to the best friends before following Max back to the Red Bull garage. You noticed his pout on the way.

“What’s got you so pouty.”

“I was about to beat Charles at FIFA and then Christian scared me, causing me to misplay and not score.”

“So Charles won?”

A huff from the Dutchman let you know that you were correct.

Thankfully the crowd had died down when you returned. But, to your chagrin, Checo was still there, looking down into your car. Mitch seemed uncomfortable as she stood near, needing to get the last bit of data before talking to you about the strategy.

You watched as she lightly nudged the Mexican, but was not met with any movement. Your anger rose as he blatantly didn’t move at all. You loudly cleared your throat, making most of the men turn their heads toward your direction, Checo included.

“I think my strategist needs to be by my car. You wouldn’t mind moving far back to give her some space?” you questioned loudly.

Perez seemed to get a bit of the message and took multiple steps back. Your jaw clenched as he smirked at you. At that moment, you knew he had done that on purpose.

You only walked past him, going to your room to get changed. When you walked back out, there was a small interview going on, once again with Checo and now Max.

The interviewer asked, “So Max, how does it feel to have your old teammate here to watch you win?”

You could tell that Max wanted to wince at the question, but he let it be.

Max replied, “Uh, it is nice to see Sergio back in the paddock. It is Mexico after all. But, Y/n is looking very strong and she won Monza from pole. So the team is just going to let us race and I’ll just try to keep up with her.”

The laugh that the Dutchman let out was obviously forced, but you were thankful for the backing from Max.

You watched as Checo obnoxiously laughed as he put his hands on Max’s shoulders, shaking the driver just a bit. Max’s shoulders tensed under the hard grip of the ex-driver’s hands. He was thankful that Perez wasn’t doing that to you, or you might have had a bit of PTSD because of it.

The Mexican began to speak, “Ah Max, always so modest. I bet that he’ll overtake her on the first corner. She might pull a me from last year. Eat some Ferrari tyre and DNF on the first lap. And before you know it, the team is going to drop her. I bet Max would like that. Maybe Daniel will get his rightful seat back.”

Max jerked away from the hands that gripped his shoulders before speaking, “Y/n happens to be a very safe driver. There might be a bit of fighting between us on the track but that’s just racing. And the seat was never Daniel’s to begin with. It was always her’s. Too bad you couldn’t keep up to keep the seat.”

If you could see Max’s eyes, you knew that they would be stormy and cold.

Your eyes wanted to water from the soft words that Max was speaking. He was really defending you to the best of his ability. Your eyes found Christian at the other side and your feet quickly took you toward the father-figure. Yet, you heard a closing statement from Perez that set your nerves ablaze.

“She won’t get the win. She was lucky in Monza, but that’s all it was. Max DNF-ed, giving her the win. This race will truly show you how talented she truly is.”

Your shoulders deflated as you tapped Christian’s shoulder, nodding over at the journalist. Christian’s eyes widened as he stalked toward the trio. He had anger in his eyes.

“I told you, no more journalists or interviews in the garage. The race is about to start,” the Briton stated, voice ice cold.

The journalist visibly gulped before packing up quickly and walking away. Max took this opportunity to also find his way back to your side. The two of you watched as Christian completely scolded the Mexican. You couldn’t hear it, but whatever your team principal said, it make Checo red with embarrassment.

Max gave you a shit-eating grin before pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks for being my best teammate kid. You’ve changed me for the better. Let’s go get you that second win.”

You pulled away with tears in your eyes as you laughed a bit.

“You’re just going to let me win? Thee Max Verstappen purposely losing a race to little old me?”

The Dutchman shook his head. “No, I’m not going to let you win. You’re going to take it from me.”

Well, Checo was right about only one thing.

Max did overtake you on the first turn.

But that was it.

You didn’t eat Ferrari tyre.

Your seat was yours to keep.

And Max was right about everything.

You made him work for the lead and overtook him on the second to last lap. Your cars fought for all they could give, drivers wanting another taste of victory.

For Max, it seemed like it had been a while.

For you, it was like Monza was yesterday.

And that sweetness from the win. The nickname you earned there from the Italians (who were much nicer).

Charles Leclerc, the Predestined.

Max Verstappen, the Inevitable.

Y/n L/n, the Long Awaited.

The victory was oh so sweet. Maybe you just really had to learn to block out the haters. It’s what you should have done at the beginning of the weekend.

But you showed everyone who you were as you stook on the nose of you trusted Red Bull. Fists near your body as you yelled, hunched over.

Max was right behind you, followed by the familiar Ferrari of Charles Leclerc. The two rivals watched as you pointed at the now booing crowd. They laughed as your motioned that you couldn’t hear them, cupping your hand by your helmet where your ear would have been and shaking your head. You shrugged and jumped off.

Your hand clasped Max’s hand and then Charles’s. You walked (more like skipped) by your team, being pulled in by the mechanics.

You took your helmet off quickly and got in line to be interviewed. Thankfully, for once, it was a woman.

She was smiling widely as she spoke into the microphone.

“Y/n that was splendid driving you did out there. And congratulations on your second win. I know this win is a little different than Monza, so tell me a bit about your race and how you’re feeling.”

You smiled as you spoke into the mic that you held.

“Ah well, this is very different from Monza. It was fun to race against my teammate. Normally, I’m behind him getting a nice tow, but the team really wanted to see us just go at it. Obviously, at the end of the day, Red Bull is what matters, but I had fun with Max. And this win just feel more special because I can tell that not a lot of people wanted me to win.”

You were huffing by the end of your statement, but the lady was grinning at your answer.

“Well, I will let you go celebrate, but mighty well done!”

You skipped a bit to the cool down room before heading to the podium. You wanted to follow Charles and Max, but someone led you down to the little lift where your car was waiting.

You knew that Charles and Max had already walked out when the lift slowly started to rise. On your head was the biggest sombrero you had ever seen. You climbed up on the nose of your car and sat cross-legged as you slowly rose. Once it stopped, you took your place at the top step and put your hands behind your back.

Jokingly, you took the hat off and placed it on Max’s head. He only rolled his eyes (but kept it on for your amusement).

People tried to yell and boo during your anthem, but you honestly couldn’t hear them over your own heartbeat. It was nice to see a certain disgruntled Mexican down below, arms crossed as he looked everywhere but up.

You smirked as you showered champagne onto Max and Charles, with you getting sprayed in return.

Fuck them haters – honestly.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing rookie got a second win and max got a hat! time for a siesta!

due to strong storms and flooding, the Sao Palo Grand Prix is canceled and will not be rescheduled

liked by y/n.nation, formulala_delulu, arthur_leclerc, and 534,209 others

rookie_freshmanyear OH YEAH - THAT'S MY DRIVER

max&co max got the hat back

y/n&max4ever she truly is the best teammate max has ever had

y/n_on_top true, what checo said was horribly wrong

maxverstappen1 ok you're done - no more wins

y/n.89 booooo charles_leclerc certified every other racer hater landonorris tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes oscarpiastri you all can speak for yourselves :(

y/n.nation sad for Brazil but they will be in our thoughts

formulafan still can't believe that the next race is FREAKING VEGAS BABY

rookieroo I know right! what if - hear me out - y/n wins again as a homecoming formulala_delulu ok let's get you back to bed

mericanf1_fan YEAH VEGAS 'MERICAAAAA

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months

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DISOWNED!VERSE YOU SAY 👀

Dick waited until you were upstairs, listening intently to the sounds of kids and dogs being settled down for the night again. Taking a second to glance around.

A small bench with shoes around it. Coats and jackets on a coat rack. Helmets and knee pads in a basket next to the bench. It wasn't a pricy house. And it was old. But clean. And well-maintained. Some dog smell. Some kid smell. But it wasn't unpleasant. Just lived in. Homey.

Jason jerked his head toward the kitchen when he heard you open a door, telling Moxie to stay with Lee and tucking them both in. Making sure that he was still asleep. And he smiled a little- That boy could sleep through an earthquake. Unless breakfast was involved. As soon as Bacon hit a skillet he was downstairs and hell on wheels. The one he was worried about was Kylie. But hopefully, if you put Pepper in with her that little demon dog would put her back to sleep.

In the kitchen he took the keys to the shed from their hiding spot taped to the bottom of a drawer and exhaled slowly. He didn't WANT to look back. But if Dick was here, he'd asked everyone else. Because they always asked everyone else first.

"How old are the kids? I mean you've only been gone for-"

"They're her niece and nephew," Jason explained, shouldering the backdoor open. "She adopted them."

"Are you gonna-"

"How long has Bruce been gone this time?" Jason asked, deflecting. No prying. Jason was disowned and no one had reached out since- save for Alfred. And even then, Jason had been reluctant to share much. Not wanting to give Bruce anything to exploit.

"A few weeks," Dick answered following.

"And did anyone think to call any of the people he's fucking?"

"Talia hung up on us and Selina left me on read."

"What about-"

"Either off-world or not dealing with men right now."

"Good to know he's still a whore."

"He's old not dead," Dick snorted.

Jason lead Dick across the grass and unlocked the shed, exhaling internally. This was the compromise. He could keep this in the shed under lock and key. Away from the kids. And he understood. They'd been through enough. And now- well. Thinking about having a toddler running around it made even more sense. You had a point. You always had a point.

He flipped the lights on and Dick whistled, "Now this is the Unabomber setup I expected"

""I got wifi. I got electricity. I got guns. As long as Babs can let me into the mainframe I can know everything you all know." Jason ignored the dig. Or tried to. Arguing with Dick wouldn't get him out of here. And he wanted him to go. The sooner the better. Because he wanted to go Boris out of his spot and go to bed. Not because he was tired, not really. But because none of this felt real. And he wanted to Bury his face in the back of your neck and hold you until it felt normal.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #reader insert #minors dni #ask answered #disowned!verse

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bucknastysbabe · 3 months

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now, catholic school priest criston and aemonds twin. Criston is from a catholic family, wanted to be a priest since he was a little boy, going to the sunday mass with his mothet was like the highlight of his week, went into the seminary very young, never had a girlfriend, he is a good man alright. then aemonds twin, whos not catholic, not even christian, her dad doesnt even go to church but alicent is very catholic and she wanted her kids to go to catholic school. but shes a menace, a straight up gremlin, like aegon but a girl and not a loser (srry aegon ily). And criston is sure the devil sent her to tempt him and shes like but what if it was god the one who sent me for you??? And specially for you??? Like, as a treat?! 🤗

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k of filth and catholic guilt

Tags: 90’s catholic school setting, Criston had the Crisis, mutual masturbation, confession booth shenanigans, age difference, manipulation, teacher/student relationship, sexual tension, Targtower reader, Criston’s woe is me internal monologue, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, pnv!sex, Jesus saw that Crispy, DESPERATION, priest kink, #imahorridcatholic

A/N: I made that priest edit and I’m proud also listened to talk by hozier for the entire last part. I’m a gremlin and made her her daeron’s twin.

Taglist: @fairysluna @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @arcielee @bambitas

Criston knew his purpose since the day he could recall. Nothing pleased him more than sitting in mass with his mother, going through Sunday school, getting ready to become an official Catholic. Confirmation was the one of the happiest days of his life.

Vocation became the forefront of Criston’s mind in school. He probably annoyed the hell out of Father Dondarrion, pestering the priest with questions upon questions about seminary. In the mean time, he was the best altar boy a Cole could be. A-team altar boy! Strong fumbled the bells every time, it repulsed Criston.

He did other school things such as tennis, won a state championship in that, got some offers for a spot on a college team. Then in the other season he played second base for the baseball team, won a state championship in that and received multiple offers to college teams. No, Criston had his mind made up. He could lead others to victory— through Christ’s love of course. He had to admit his father was quite pissed about the baseball team but he’d be okay. Criston had a little brother, he was athletic.

The young man had even tried dating, just to see if God called for Criston to instead populate the world and lead a family. Not tend to the flock of sheep. There was a plethora of girls but he fell for a devil.

Her name was Rhaenyra Targaryen and she left him in a puddle of tears. The rich girl couldn’t respect staying chaste until marriage. He was ready to give her a ring. The priest sniffed recalling her harsh words, “You, like, won’t even dry hump me? What’s the point?” At the time the young man was miffed, broken, distraught. Criston held a hand over his heart as he whispered tearily, “You want me to be your whore?”

Mind you, he was a foolish 17 year old. The man was tested with her, but he learned from the experience. Criston was obviously meant to be a priest. He prayed and prayed for God to reveal his path. The answer came in Father Dondarrion giving Criston a letter from the Archbishop himself, inviting the young man to join seminary.

Criston took his first vows at the tender age of 18. He spent the next seven years learning and perfecting his bond with God, ready to guide his brothers and sisters in Christ. He’d smile and wave off comments at his home parish, often elder women asking why such a handsome young man would devote his life to chastity.

He rarely thought much of it. Jerking off was a boring thing, simply a biological process Cole needed to take care of. He took no shame nor pleasure in it, not truly thinking of anything at all. It would lessen as he aged but currently Criston was twenty-five and a ‘hot blooded’ young man.

He got his first job as a teacher in a Catholic school. At the beginning, Father Criston Cole found a passion for teaching while on a mission trip. He was ecstatic for the job. A year later he was significantly less overzealous. Add some years later Criston found himself, well, bored. Agitated. Discontent if you will.

Lord knows he had to calm himself for these wayward children. After a long day the man would pour some scotch and wonder why the rich ones were the worst behaved. Especially the damn Targaryens— he thought he could escape from that name.

Rhaenyra’s father had remarried and they had five children. Rhaenyra had five herself, different fathers came the whispers. The two youngest apparently looked like her. Criston smirked into his glass, God was watching and protecting him even as a foolish kid. She left the church anyways, but the children were polite and well-behaved in class.

Alicent Hightower-Targaryen’s children were a handful. Aegon made Criston sick to his stomach, the idiot either drunk or high in class, flipping up skirts of poor girls. If the priest thought about the eldest too long he’d grow a headache. He chose not to dwell on the fact that the family generously paid for Aegon to graduate— like a twisted version of simony.

Then along came sweet Helaena, she made good marks but often had to be drawn back to attention, and he tried to stifle the bullying drawn to her strange nature. Aemond was another headache, in a good way. He seemed to fit the vocational lifestyle and bonded with Criston over it. Criston truly enjoyed discussing hot topics in the church with the smart lad.

Aemond just needed to let his anger go and let God in, Criston had to do the same, his temper could be stormy. Then Aemond graduated and went off to study the sciences. Criston frankly thought he was done. He forgot. The twins were seniors and signed into his year-long Papal History elective.

He was now 32, and God really had sent him a test this time. In the form of good-natured Daeron’s wily sister. He had to send her to the Headmaster’s office the first day! The pale-haired girl was wearing an…indecent…skirt. One to catch long shapely legs.

He huffed and downed the rest of his scotch. He knelt before his icon of Christ and prayed. ‘Please my loving lord, I am afraid you shall test me, but give me the strength to pass through this.’ He felt strange. This girl was trouble. Criston wiped his face and grabbed his scotch again, one more would do for the night. He hissed, “FuckingfuckfucksticksFUCK!” Eyes widening he apologized to the empty room, “Forgive me my lord, that was uncouth.”

It was November 1997. Father Cole thought about making a request to a parish to be their full-time priest. He suited up for the lovely worship of Mass, mood sour. Deacon Erryk was next to him, almost out of his seminary studies. Erryk hummed, “How’s the class this year?”

“A pain in my side. I have another Aegon Targaryen in the form of his youngest sister. She seeks to make me miserable.”

The man stifled a laugh and prodded, “Damn. Aegon was bad, he was in my class with you. My condolences Criston, pray that Mary will bless the girl with some sense.”

Criston grumbled, “Indeed.” He felt old. Erryk was about to be a priest now.

Mass went off good as gold, the younger altar boys falling into place easily. He could always see the believers and non-believers based on their actions. Some wouldn’t even stand when he entered the room, the cross bearer ignored too. If Criston could start throwing Holy Water he would, ingrates.

In the front row, Daeron and his sister sat. Criston tried not to grimace as he sat down in his chair. They’d have mass every Friday at the school. Confession on Tuesdays. Criston would teach a RCIA class next semester for those outside of the school at night.

She was staring at him, wearing another little dress with her button-up underneath the skinny straps. He could see her smokey eyeshadow and glossed lips, moving around a piece of gum. Daeron held himself in reverence, hands clasped. Criston turned away, he would not give the evil little blonde any satisfaction!

He shivered when she knelt and took the body of Christ, tongue lapping against his fingers with a licentious look. The priest almost yelped, moving onto the next. He was shaken for the rest of the ceremony. Maybe he should call for advice— no, no, they would think Cole some sort of deviant pedophile. That was a problem enough and she was merely being a temptress. ‘Son of a fucking BIIIIIIITCH’, he thought angrily. Then did the sign of the cross.

The beleaguered priest sat at his desk during his planning period, grading papers. The headphones on his head played some songs— his only vice. He loved ‘radical’ music. So Criston kept that little secret to himself. He liked to belt rock ballads. Only by himself in the rectory.

How embarrassing. A grown man of the cloth.

The door opening had Criston jerking his head up, hand flicking off his walkman. He raised a brow when it was the little Targaryen and her mother, livid by her expression and wild red hair. She shoved the girl in a seat and crossed her arms.

Criston stood up and greeted the frankly scary woman, “Miss Hightowergaryen, oh, Hightower-Targaryen yes!” He peeked at teary red eyes, deadpanning, “And you.” The senior scoffed, “Good to see you too Father.” He ignored her quip and cautiously asked, “What seems to be the problem?” Alicent raved, “She’s going off the wrong path, just like Aegon. Guess where Aegon is, tell Father Cole please!” She gave her daughter a sharp look.

The girl mumbled something before getting a pinch to her arm. She croaked, “He’s in rehab! Rehab! Alright there mom!” The younger curled in and hid under her blonde hair, streaked with some sort of red dye.

He frowned but couldn’t say he was quite surprised. Criston offered, “My apologies, may he find the light of His way soon. Occasionally some rejoin the church or convert after getting clean and sober. Is there an issue with my student Miss?”

Alicent sighed, calming a bit and taking a deep breath. She looked up, doe eyes wide and pleading. The mother asked, “Can we go into your private office for a second Father?” She stopped and hissed, “Don’t you move an inch!”

A roll of violet eyes was the answer, pouting lips turning further downward.

Criston perched on his desk and tried to soothe the woman, “Alicent, relax my old friend, what can I do for you?” He offered a look of sympathy, watching her pace and run a hand wildly through her hair. The woman stopped in place and whimpered, “She’s so lost, I can’t screw up another one of my babies. I need you to keep an eye on her, pray and guide, something…Something so I know I tried.”

She looked very tired, taking a sharp breath in to chew at her nails. Alicent rambled, “She was so good, her and Daeron were so good. Then she turned sixteen and something happened, I don’t know what, and it’s gotten worse. She hates Sunday mass, like Aegon and Rhaenyra. I don’t want to lose her forever to whatever this is, straying off the path.”

He nodded contemplatively, hand on his chin, thinking. Alicent was in a state of chronic stress, even back when they were all in school. She married Rhaenyra’s father so young, nineteen to be exact. He felt a need to protect the woman of God, just trying her best to lead her children to heaven since Viserys did not seem to be in the picture.

He swore, “I’ll do my best, you have my word Alicent. God bless you, let me bless you.” He prayed over her and the tenseness seemed to leave her shoulders. Alicent smiled softly and thanked Criston, the pair of them exiting the office.

Her daughter remained seated, looking more miserable by the second. She gazed up with curious eyes, mouth still set in a pout. Alicent beamed, “Father Criston will be keeping an eye on you and reporting to me, okay? You will behave and try to learn that the path of the righteous is never easy.”

She raised a brow, “So I’m going to have my priest follow me around? That’s uncool.”

Alicent stiffened and remarked, “No. You’ll come to him when in trouble. You’ll be spending lunch with him too so you don’t go off and smoke like a vagrant. We will go sign it in with the headmaster now. Get up.”

Criston had to hold his jaw closed. He definitely did not know what he was signing up for. Hail Mary, full of grace rambled off in his head. This would be a tumultuous year for sure— inked and sealed onto paper. God bless him.

“I guess we’ll be the best of friends now,” she snarled tearily.

Criston placed a hand on her shoulder and hummed, “God works in mysterious ways Targaryen.” Internally he was climbing a mountain and shouting at the heavens like some Bible prophet. He was feeling very Job-like at the moment.

First of all, he truly didn’t expect the girl to sit in his classroom during lunch. Criston raised a brow when she entered, slammed down her lunch and plopped down. She cocked her head and smiled, “Afternoon father.”

“Afternoon,” he replied, turning his gaze back upon the scripture he was annotating. Cole wanted to comment on her sudden chopping of that beautiful white-blonde hair, or the fact she smelled of minty cigarettes. She wasn’t supposed to be smoking.

It remained quiet until she blurted, “Do you smoke?”

Yes, in fact he did. But she didn’t need to know that. Criston murmured, “No I do not.” To which she lobbed back, “Is it not a sin to lie? I saw you in the parking lot! Also you smell like marlboros sometimes.” Her face turned bright red— like she had no control over her yapping.

Criston peeled off his glasses and sat back in his chair to level the girl with a stern look. He flatly stated, “Yes, good point, it was a sin for me to lie. Although as your teacher and priest I would not have you pick up bad habits,” he took a moment before asking, “How do I smell of cigarettes in class? Are you sniffing me?”

She stammered, “N-no! No! It’s just when you pass by, I don’t know, stop!”

Criston shook his head in concern, “Please do not sniff me in class, that’s, that’s strange.”

“I don’t sniff you! Quit saying that! Okay, enough of smoke talk! Hi how are you doing Father Cole?,” she animatedly gestured, eyes wild and cheeks pink.

He couldn’t help but snicker at her mad gestures. Snickers turned into genuine laughter, Criston slapping his desk a bit. A different hand slapping down on his desk made the man look up, donning a grin at her grumpy face. The littlest dragon hissed, “Ha-ha very funny. I asked you a question. Small talk, since I’m stuck here with you for lunch.”

Criston shrugged and replied, “Ask a better question, I don’t know how I’m doing half of the time. Especially having to babysit a legal adult.”

Her pout was endearing, the girl biting into her sandwich in an aggressive manner. She chewed and swallowed before blurting, “Is it true my half-sister dumped you in highschool?” Criston squawked in surprise, heaven on earth, how would she even get the knowledge? Rubbing the bridge of his nose he sighed.

“Yes, she dumped me. Didn’t want to stay chaste until marriage. That was a little personal don’t you think Miss Targaryen?”

She seemed to contemplate his words, sounding out her thoughts, “Now you’re a priest and she has like 2 baby daddies and a gay hubby. Cool. Love my family.” Her laugh was a sharp giggle, almost sarcastic in nature. Nothing like the torture of Aegon’s nonsensical shrieks.

Criston smiled a bit at the information, leaning back in his chair. He sucked on his teeth and asked her, “Why’d you cut off all your hair?” She narrowed her eyes and smiled, “I was wondering if you would make a comment, quote some scripture that shorter hair is for lesbians and therefore I’m going to hell.” The older man gaped and stared, almost choking at her blunt words.

“No- what? You’ve got some sort of an imagination!,” he sipped on a water bottle, offended she would assume he was that mean, “I think it fits you nicely, glad whatever dye you put in was lost in the chop.” He shook his head, muttering about lesbian scripture. She giggled again, content with flustering the priest.

Criston tried to hold off a headache as she yapped about school. He snorted a bit when she marked some of the students on the dot. Soon the bell rang and she packed up her lunch, swinging her backpack on. Stopping at the door she asked, “So what’s your poison of choice? I like the fancy camel ones.”

He stared blankly before deadpanning, “Marlboro reds, now begone Targaryen.”

Her endearing giggle echoed as she left, the door swinging shut. Criston sat back in his chair and sighed— she had spunk. He quite appreciated it. Maybe she was a gift to spice up his growing distaste of where his life was at.

His dark eyes widened. He’s got to be too young for a midlife crisis? Now he really wanted a cigarette.

Father Criston Cole was indeed having a mid-life crisis. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, fitting his clerical collar on. Peering closer he inspected his face. He was still relatively young looking, hair not showing any grays. Practicing a smile he immediately dropped the grin. Crows feet. Great.

The priest shivered at the slight wrinkles. Why did he care? He didn’t have anyone to impress. A cheeky smile and icy eyeshadow, choppy blonde hair flitted through his mind. Goodness gracious he was her teacher, her priest, went to school with the girl’s parent. A spiritual guide!

This was bad. The damn girl had him wrapped around her ringed pinky. Bringing her little gifts, letting the blonde stay after school to chit chat. One time he let her cry on his shoulder, upset about rumors swirling. Criston heard a lot in the classroom.

Slut, whore, burnout, bitch.

He didn’t want to know what the little dragon got up to in her spare time but his knuckles did whiten at the thought of her not treating her body as a temple. Letting stupid boys have their way. Not like he could help. He was a priest and the farthest he’d ever gotten was smooching Rhaenyra and grabbing her tit before freaking out.

He needed to pray. Pray away these sinful thoughts. Guilt wracked his chest. He couldn’t turn the girl away either— he made a promise to Alicent. On a better note, her grades and attendance had improved. Ali called him once to thank the priest for helping her daughter. Although the girl still was apprehensive about faith. He didn’t push the subject; she didn’t bring it up. Maybe sometime soon.

Brushing back his curls, Criston sprayed cologne on his dark garb. He bought it on a self-indulgent whim. Maybe to cover the cigarette smoke, truly to entice a certain favorite student. Instead he was pestered by other girls bringing treats and batting their eyes at him. The man of the cloth could care less about the others. He was hopelessly haunted by his agnostic, rebellious student.

The man prayed some, did a Hail Mary before smoking a cigarette or five with his coffee. He was jittery at school now, worried that somehow a teacher or the elder nun would run and declare him a sinful wretch. Locking himself in the office until class time seemed like a good option.

He tried to grade some papers, mind drifting off to the increasingly heavy burden on his shoulders. Something needed to give— he was afraid what that might be. Deacon Arryk gave the homily that morning mass since Criston was out of sorts. Trying to not stare when she knelt and took the body of Christ. Playfully flicking his fingers with that tongue and saying ‘amen’.

Thank the Trinity and the saints he was covered head to toe in thick vestments. Hiding his cock just brought to mind Criston’s change in habit. Jerking off wasn’t a mindless activity anymore. He imagined plump lips and her raspy voice, teasing him, so delightfully mean. Then he’d flip her around and- he usually came with a pathetic noise by that point in the fantasy.

He pressed his fingers into his temples, groaning aloud. Doomed. Eternal hell. Purgatory sentence maximum if he got lucky. The second bell of the day woke the man from his racing mind. Criston straightened up and popped some gum in. Mary take pity on his soul. Satan himself was testing Criston. Although he couldn’t help but think she was anything but demonic.

The next day the tired priest had to attend confession for two hours. Usually it wasn’t a laborious affair; most of the kids who attended were the devout sort and only had some venial sins. Daeron Targaryen was a regular attendee, his twin was not.

He thought he was done for the day, sighing in relief. The two hours were up. Until the curtain swished and someone entered. The brunette thought to groan and hit his head on the wood. Fuck him— sorry, forgiveness please Lord for the profanity.

Criston’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. That lilting, teasing, raspy voice that was the specter of the nightmares and fantasies. He could faintly see the outline of her, that damn silvery blonde hair.

“Uhhh, bless me father for I have sinned. It’s been, uh, one year since my last confession?” She made the sign of the cross, bracelets jingling. Criston could snort— blondie was obviously reading off a note card. She remained quiet afterward.

He prodded, “Go on child.”

She huffed, “I’ve lied, slandered, gossiped about others. I’m inattentive in mass. I don’t respect my parents. I’ve been ungrateful, taking the lords body out of a state of grace. Obviously I’m egotistical, depraved of thoughts, I’m selfish.”

Father Cole swallowed.

She laughed blithely, “I could probably keep going except for mortal sins? I steal, sneak, deceive, suffer from jealousy and envy. Bad bad envy. Always want what I can’t have, y’know?”

He wanted to ask her to clarify…but had a feeling.

The twin’s voice lowered to a purr, “I think you’re waiting for the grand finale. I’m lustful, wanton, perform unnatural acts of sex. Inordinate affection, especially for men who are sworn to another. I defile myself to the thought of him.”

Criston gripped his black slacks roughly, cock swelling so fast he was pretty sure his vision had spots in it. He discreetly tried to readjust himself, swallowing back a whine. The man was no better than a horny boy— denying the pleasures of the flesh for so long.

“I’m a fornicator. Not lately. I can’t stop touching myself to the thought of him.”

The priest hadn’t stopped rubbing himself, biting on his bottom lip to shut up as she rambled on. Oh, it felt so goddamn good he was panting. Meanwhile from the other side he could hear her shifting, voice growing breathier as she talked.

“I think about him touching me, kissing me, those pretty lips and dark eyes only for me. I fucking hate when other girls talk to him— I slashed one’s t-tires.”

“No swearing,” Criston grunted.

“Sorry, where was I? I came so hard the other day wondering what his cock would feel like inside of me. I don’t know if y- he would last long but I’d keep riding, oh mmh!,” her breath hitched and he could hear slick noises from beyond the screen. She was touching herself in the booth. Touching herself. In the booth.

He leaned back, head thumping against the wood, practically humping his hand. Criston whined through his nose, mouth hanging open. The man was a goddamn mess, pleading, “You’d ride him huh? Until he got ready again?”

“Mhmmm, yeah, I’d put his pretty cock in my mouth until I felt him get hard. Hah, what do you think he would do to me?”

Oh holy spirits, he had no clue? Everything? He’d do anything? He drew on his fantasies and the dirty mag a boy brought to class once. Criston went home and asked forgiveness for seeing the woman…doing that.

His voice was much more desperate than he expected, tan cheeks turning a shade of darker red. Criston rambled, “I, oh heavens, he would do whatever she asked, maybe, maybe, put his mouth on her.”

He must have said the right thing, her breath quickened and he could see the outline of her arm moving faster. Emboldened, Cole practically whined, “He’d lick and suck at her until she was crying and grabbing his hair, ohfuckinghellfires!” Criston’s cock throbbed and twitched as he cursed and shoved a hand down his slacks.

“Yeah? Yeah? He’d eat me out? Suck on my clit, slip some f-fingers inside? I’d want it so bad,” she whimpered shakily. The priest panted and popped the button so he could fist himself easier, moaning shamelessly, scrunching his eyes closed.

The blonde’s voice was muffled, “Mmm- I’d take such good care of him, he could e-eat me out but I’d ride his cock until he couldn’t cum anymore, F-father please!” Criston could hear her squeal and his dark hair fell into his face as he curled inward. He babbled uselessly, rubbing himself as spurt after spurt of seed wetted his briefs.

There was a heavy feeling in the confession booth. The pair panted, sitting in silence. Shame poured over Criston like a bucket of ice. He quickly rearranged himself to not look like someone who just had the most intense orgasm of his life. The priest wanted to talk, truly, but he had no words.

So he bolted, ignoring her calls of his name. Criston kept moving, heading toward the rectory, he’d have to call out. Everything was spinning and he needed to just, just, he didn’t know. The stickiness in his pants was worsening the horrid feeling of being a pervert, he should’ve just sent her away. He will end this immediately tomorrow, for both of their souls if he hasn’t doomed them.

She didn’t appear for lunch. Did appear for class, eyes blazing into Criston’s head. Daeron even coughed and shoved her. She was glaring, not writing a damn thing as he lectured about the battle of Lepanto. The priest’s palms began to sweat. He wished the clock would go quicker.

“I’ll get a ride home, don’t worry about me Dare,” she said after the bell rung, students packing up their bags. Daeron raised an eyebrow but shrugged, moving on. One girl attempted to approach Criston with some papers in hand.

The dragon hissed something and shoulder checked the girl— Criston reluctantly scolding the blonde. Like it mattered, the other girl hightailed it out of his classroom. Pale eyes landed upon his own dark orbs, a strange look on her face.

“Office,” she said. Cole wasn’t in the position to deny. He tossed and turned all night, fighting whether to say fuck it and hang up the cassock or dismiss her and never speak of it again. When she was in his presence it leaned toward the former.

Criston walked in first, closing the blinds while she followed him. The man’s head jerked up when he heard the sound of the door locking. Little Miss Targaryen was wearing a particularly form fitting version of the school uniform, tits pushed up under the white button-down. Suddenly Criston was swallowing drool.

She snapped, “Sit down.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook the senior a bit, leaning down to growl, “Do you even know what the hell you’re getting into? This could ruin us both! You aren’t going to order me around, I’m the damn adult here, I swore to your mother!” He sounded desperate, weary.

She sneered up at him, unphased, “Sit down or I’ll leave and pretend this never occurred. I know you want it, you want me,” she yanked at his white collar, “Mommy doesn’t have to know, Father.”

Why Criston was like a dog at a damn eighteen year old’s commands? He wasn’t quite sure. His tongue was glued down anyways, only huffing as he perched on the chair. She padded closer, smelling of vanilla and some other perfume. He bit off a whine when she sat on his desk, thighs spreading, giving the priest a view of her lacy skimp of underwear.

“Fucking hell baby,” he pled, hands aching to touch.

“What? You sure were enjoying yourself yesterday.”

He moaned, “We shouldn’t— this could cost us our souls. The deceiver is manipulating us, a test. I lost my wits yesterday.” Criston’s fingertips dug into his leaner thighs, eyes flicking between her pretty smirk and the peak of baby pink panties. The girl hummed sadly, faux pout setting his heart to aching something fierce.

“What if it isn’t the devil? What if I’m just a gift, for you, just for you Father,” she leaned in to his face, “Think outside your little imposed box. Don’t you feel this?” She snatched one of his hands, pressing it upon her beating heart, her soft breast.

He looked guiltily to the side. Criston whispered, “If you were a gift then why is are my feelings so wanton and lustful?”

Purple eyes rolled. She hiked the skirt up, exposing pale thighs and her cute underwear. Criston whimpered under his breath, hand still on her breast, squeezing. The girl moaned, “Chaste love, no, I think he sent me just for you, maybe you had the wrong calling?” Criston threw caution to the wind— the festering in his head grew, rotting away his senses.

He’d already fucked up. Her points were making more sense by the second. Why not enjoy life before he spent the afterlife in torment? He peered at his favorite and rasped, “Show me what to do, putting my mouth on you. Can I touch you?” The brunette internally cringed at his whiny tone. She smiled victoriously, breath delightfully hitching, manicured hands unbuttoning her top.

Criston grabbed ahold of those pretty thighs, marveling at how smooth they were as he pulled them forward until her ass was the only thing perched on his desk. She squeaked and grabbed onto his dark hair, cheeks going blotchy with pink spots. The priest figured he’d have a little instinct, something long denied festering along with his sinful thoughts.

Right now he was face to face with her cunt and Criston had lost his bravado, brown eyes peering up at her. She smirked knowing she had the upper hand again. The Targaryen laughed, “Alright, panties off first Father. Do you even know female anatomy?”

He blushed darkly, ignoring the comment and yanking down those pretty panties. They matched her bra, her breasts spilling out of the push-up with heavy breath. He stuffed the lace underwear selfishly in his pocket. Criston gritted his jaw, cock pressing painfully hard against the fly of his pants. She was glistening, swollen, something he could only conjure up and still get it wrong.

“The clit is the nub at the top,” she breathed.

Criston searched her eyes with his own, abashed at the lack of knowledge before delving his face between silky thighs. He moaned pitifully, embracing the natural scent, her hand in his curls. The man lapped at her sopping hole, excitedly delving his tongue inside, already obsessed with the sweet nectar.

“Fffuck,” she whined, thighs tensing around his neck. Criston’s nose bumped against her clitoris, reminding him of the ‘magic spot’ he’d heard girls giggle about between class changes. He licked his way upward, moaning, ignoring his own need. Pink lips sealed around her button, tentatively suckling.

The blonde jerked and mewled, “Criston, Criston, yes Father!”

He flicked his tongue against the button, big hands keeping those strong thighs from closing. She was trying to scoot away from his onslaught on her, whining and shivering. Criston pulled back to rumble, “All that talk and you’re running from my tongue now little girl?”

“M’gonna fucking cum,” she half-sobbed.

The priest wasn’t going to give up. He kept his attentions on that bundle, even slipping two fingers inside her pussy, exploring until she keened again. More and more slick covered his chin and fingers, utterly lost in this divine feeling. The blonde’s legs were shaking now, breath coming in short sobs. She babbled something, one hand white knuckling the desk, the other knotted into Criston’s hair.

He wished he could have saved her shrill cry of his name as Criston pushed the younger woman over that edge. She gushed and spasmed, finally pushing him away to settle down. Her makeup was smudged, hair a fucking mess. Cole thought she never looked prettier.

He was goddamn insane over her and he knew it. The devil long had his claws gripped into the priest. The man just lied and ignored until he couldn’t. Criston grabbed her and placed her on his thighs, cock pulsing, him reaching down to relieve pressure.

The blonde wrapped her arms round his neck, pretty pink nipples exposed now, the push-up doing nothing to help. She plastered herself to his body, lips mouthing across his neck, murmuring, “You learn quick, s’good.” Criston rubbed at her back, slipping a hand down to her a handful of her cute ass.

She pulled back, pale eyes roving Criston’s face. He stared in a daze as she spoke in a sultry, raspy tone, “You’re so hard, wanna fuck you, lemme fuck you Father.” He couldn’t help but moan long and low at her desperate plea. His cock was fit to burst, straining his briefs now.

“I want it, I want it,” he gasped.

In a flurry of movement he yanked off the collar, it would sicken him to have it on. She pulled at the buttons, pausing to unhook her bra, Criston shoving down his pants and underwear. She moaned, placing hands on his chest and sliding down trim stomach until a little hand grabbed his ruddy cock.

He made a strangled noise, eyes rolling up in his head. No wonder people did this— sin was utterly sweet. Criston panted her name, about to guide her hips onto him. He paused, brows furrowing. The deceiver himself spoke through her voice, “I’m on birth control, doesn’t matter.”

That’s all he needed to hear, roughly lifting her to guide his cock into that slick pussy. Criston made a gutted noise as she slipped onto him. Warm, wet, so goddamn snug and gently ridged. He whined, straight up whined, “Don’t move, don’t move, baby baby oh— haaah!”

She purred and pressed soft tits against Criston, their shallow breathing intermingling. The female whispered softly, petting his shoulders and arms, “S’okay, breathe, relax.”

Criston shook from head to toe, exhaling sharply, pitiful noises escaping a raw throat. He pressed his swollen lips to her forehead, forcing rapid breathing to a calmer state. Still, still, the brunettes balls throbbed and twitched.

He was gonna fuck her dammit. He’d gotten this damn far, his darkest desire to fuck and fill her up after more than two pumps would kill Cole. She teased, hands back on his chest, playing with his medals, “You can do it Father, you’re not so twitchy.”

He shook his head silently, focusing on the task at hand. Father Criston Cole could never deny his sweet little dragon. She’d started squirming and whining on his lap, slick soaking his loins. He took a tentative thrust upwards, lashes fluttering.

The dam broke loose.

Criston fucked and groped, lips messily smacking against her pretty plump pout. She rode him in earnest, meeting him thrust for thrust. The chair squeaked, they moaned, grunted, cried out, a feral quality to the sacred act. He was soaking in the slaps of skin, her hitches of breath, chanting his name like a damn litany.

Criston grabbed onto her hips, planting his feet on the floor, biting his lip and scrunching eyes tight. He was moaning and moaning, drool slipping out between searing kisses. His balls were drawing tight— pounding with the need of his release.

He shoved her upwards onto the desk, thrusting brutally as she cried in ecstasy. Criston pled, “M’gonna cum, c-can’t stop, oh fuck.” She cried, “Yesyesyes don’t you dare stop, m’close!” The older man felt his balls slapping against her ass, eyes rolling up again.

His orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, Cole mouthing at perky tits, moaning as his release soaked her pussy. It was like he was floating. She bit down on her hand to muffle a wail, arching into him, cunt convulsing and wetting him further.

But Criston couldn’t stop. He kept fucking through the oversensitive pain, sounding like he was in agony as he pounded into her. Their mixed releases made everything slide easier, his turgid cock not softening. He babbled, “Not done, another baby, take it for me, take me please.”

The blonde’s only response was clinging to his tan body, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around his waist. She sobbed harder, “Do it do it— oh my God!” Criston whined her name through his nose, drunk off the feeling, not even aware of the blasphemy.

The office grew hot, noises of flesh and high sounds filling the small space. He couldn’t shut the fuck up either, rambling, “Wet baby, can’t help myself, gotta do it, fuck it all! M’still full up, gotta stuff you baby, how can I hngh not?” He reached down between them to circle haphazardly at her abused clit, the pretty thing writhing on his dick.

Another peak was approaching, he was already leaking, ready to empty another load deep inside her eager pussy. She tightened around him as he pinched her clit, crying real tears now, his name on her tongue like a broken record. Criston wetly cried into her fragrant neck, shoving himself deep inside to give her that last load.

He made a noise, she made a noise, everything growing foggy and distant.

Next thing he recalled was his demon, angel, twisted boon cuddled in his lap, tits still out. They were a sticky mess and he hoarsely asked, “How, ugh, long?”

“A couple of minutes. You went a little dumb there and I had to get your limp ass back into this chair,” she pressed her head into his chest, Criston naturally setting his chin on her head. His hands were slowly moving up and down her flanks. He still felt a bit dumb, dazed from the intense situation.

“You,” he swallowed, “Are a gift…I believe.”

She smiled softly, pecking his lips. The Targaryen mumbled, “We need to get ourselves together, I need a ride home.” Criston nodded, clinging tighter to her frame. He stammered, “O-okay, discuss this another time?”

“Sure, but after I show you what a blow job feels like.”

He didn’t object. The collar sat out of his sight, anything he once cherished gone from his mind. She took that place. He was irrevocably, obsessively infatuated. “I’ll have to leave my position after this year,” he murmured. She looked at him, a concerned look on dainty features.

“I think I’ll be around, will you?”

He remained silent, answer obvious in the air. He’d get down on his knees again and beg to never lose this gem. Fucked up from the get-go. For once, Criston Cole didn’t care. He kissed her instead.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #priest!criston #ser criston cole imagine #ser criston cole smut #ser criston cole x reader #criston x reader #criston cole imagine #criston cole x reader

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bunnybeandraws · 1 year

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I would like to thank @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington for giving me the inspiration to write this because their recent lethan comic has been stuck in my head all day <3

It was always hallways with these kinds of places. Long, never-ending hallways with dull gray walls and dull white floors with dull metal doors lining each and every corridor. It made these places exceedingly difficult to navigate in stressful situations.

The sound of gunfire snaps Leon out of these thoughts, and he twists around to return fire, roughly pulling Ethan along as they turn into yet another identical hallway.

Leon can count the amount of times he's been in this building on one hand, this specific event being one of them. He hadn't even planned on returning to this place ever, but Chris had called in a favor, and who is he to say no to an old friend? Especially if it's to save an innocent person from being treated like a monster.

The sound of more gunfire makes Ethan flinch for just a moment, slowing the two down temporarily, and Leon has to wonder… Is this really the same person who survived the Dulvey Incident? The same person who had their heart ripped free from their chest and came back to tell the tale?

Because Ethan certainly doesn't seem like it.

A large double-door opens behind them, and Leon curses at himself internally. Of course the bastards would bring back up, but it doesn't make the situation any less aggravating. He twists around once more to return fire, forcing his burning legs to move faster because goddamn it, they're almost home free!

Ethan suddenly jerks, and a flash of red in the corner of his eye tells Leon the worst has happened. A single bullet between the eyes, Ethan already slumping forward.

Shit, fuck, this wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to get out of here, Ethan was supposed to see his wife and child again, he was-

He wasn't slumping anymore, his back arching like a puppet suddenly pulled back by its strings. Black seeps from the wound, consuming the top half of Ethans' face, and out of instinct, Leon starts to ready his pistol. He's already dealing with aggressive, murdery humans, he doesn't need an aggressive, murdery B.O.W on top of all of that.

For a moment, nothing happens, the mold simply writhing before it's pulled back into the bullet wound like someone unplugged a drain. And when the mold has fully receded, the wound too has disappeared, and Ethan is already running again, not stopping to even question what happened, like he didn't even realize that he just came back from the dead once more.

Leon simply stares for a moment, all sound around him muted and his vision focused entirely on Ethan. He knew the younger man wasn't human, but seeing his regeneration in action was something else entirely.

A sudden sharp pain across his cheek yet again snaps Leon out of his thoughts, and he grits his teeth, returning fire once more.

Maybe he had just been seeing things, the stress of the situation just getting to him. Ethan certainly seemed completely fine, just running ahead of Leon…

But that patch of glistening red on the floor seemed very real.

#resident evil #ethan winters #leon kennedy #resident evil village #re8 #lethan #genuinely its comic has been stuck in my brain all day and i just has to write this out before the day was over <3 #i don't even know how to explain my thought process tbh #just enjoy the 10:00 pm writing <3

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madarasgirl · 3 months

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A Night for Hunting Ch.16 -Just Another Day in Paradise

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, soft yandere, pure sugary fluff, romance, slice-of-life, Valentine’s Day @alastorhazbin On AO3 Words: 4673

Happy Lunar New Year! It’s the Year of the Dragon, aka Dracula’s year.

This was meant to be Ch 17, but I swapped the order between the two chapters because I thought this made more chronologic sense. This chapter also fits the theme of Valentine's Day better! We’re mostly just catching up with what has happened since the Reader moved in before they go on a little date.

There is a lot of narration because I don't have the ability to write that much slice-of-life for Alucard since his in-canon states are usually sulking, violence, anger, emotional breakdown, and cockiness (to hide the emotional turmoil). He's a romantic, but the joys of normal living don't come to him that easily. Same goes for me trying to write it.

A number of months have passed and you were settling into your life at Hellsing, strange as it had become. You continued to work, but were also required to report for training three times a week, where you would proceed to get your butt kicked. Despite the muscle ache and fatigue, it felt good to feel your body getting stronger, even if it sucked to have Alucard see you getting pummelled by the old man Ferguson whenever the vampire happened to drop by and watch. Last week, you finally began firearms training after Captain Ferguson decided your self-defence will suffice for now at your beginner's level.

Alucard was not always at Hellsing. Sometimes he was sent away to other cities for ‘assignments’ for days at a time. When he was not called upon for his services, he would have ample free time, where he mostly stayed in his dungeon staring off into space while sipping his precious wine. It appeared these days, other favourite pastimes were for him to scheme up ways to spook you around the manor and chasing you around the courtyard for sport as you returned from work.

You were quickly learning to check your surroundings for his presence, such as the funny shadows in the corner and misplaced eyes peeking from under tables. You knew to brace for him suddenly coming at you through the walls. But the vampire never terrorized you down in the basement. Whenever you went to see him at night, he never came with the intention of frightening you. It seemed his lair was meant to be a refuge and he reinforced your visits by not scaring you off with negative associations with the place. As if you were Pavlov’s dog in training…

The jerk! He thought he had you in his back pocket already, didn't he?!

Still, you didn't venture into his dungeon nightly, even if wall lamps had been installed. It was just too uncomfortably eerie underground. The creeping darkness did not relinquish its clutches and every time you descended into the deep cold, it was difficult to shake the fear of the unseen despite knowing that Alucard would be at the end.

Absent from the dungeon was the sun, which you were mildly surprised to discover you needed, and experiencing it from your balcony was wonderful on the odd days when it wasn’t raining and the sky wasn’t grey with clouds. When you basked in the early morning rays of late winter, Alucard would wait patiently inside your room for you to leave the warm light behind and return to him. He would frequent your chamber when you didn't reciprocate his visits, so eventually you had blackout curtains installed in your windows such that he wouldn’t have to deal with the light.

Your internal clock now operated on its own timeline. Sometimes you were up during the day for errands or the odd morning shift, where Alucard would come watch you getting ready and then see you off. You could also be training late into the night or spending the witching hours with him. There was so little time to be idle.

With your sleep schedule all over the place, your circadian rhythm was likewise out of whack. When you nodded off in exhaustion in his arms or woke up in one of your beds, Alucard would hum to you occasionally when you were between consciousness and sleep, the enchanting baritone of his voice ushering you off into the safe realm of dreams or guiding you back into the world of wakefulness. He told you it was a lullaby Wallachian mothers used to sing to their babies to lull them to sleep.

Nightmares were a distant memory. In fact, you never even experienced anything resembling an unsettling dream since moving into Hellsing. You suspected it had something to do with Alucard guarding your dreams, though he did not affirm this. You never expected your lover to do this for you and you thought it very sweet of him. Under the watchful eyes and gentle caresses of the vampire king, you slept more soundly than ever whenever you were at last given the opportunity.

Your most cherished moments were when you read together at night, when you’d sit just close enough to touch, but both be occupied with your own material. Too many times in the past, he came to watch you read. As it became too unnerving, you finally offered to lend him the first books of the series you were reading if he was interested. It was a cosmic injustice that the undead cat was capable of devouring literature nonstop night and day until he reached the end of a book. No eating or resting or even moving from his seat, except the times when he'd pause to fold you in half and–

You had precious little free time, but there were perks to living at an estate like Hellsing. Delicious meals were prepared and laundry services were provided when you didn’t want to do these chores yourself. When you wanted to cook your own food for Alucard and yourself, a smaller, fully equipped kitchen was available so you could be his home chef. What a quality of life improvement!

You sighed, smiling to yourself as you stretched out in bed and recalled the whirlwind of the past months. At long last, you had a day off to yourself. Alucard was somewhere and you were excited to leave the premises to venture out into the city. Not only would you temporarily escape the polite small-talk and gossip of the serving staff, you could finally also get some fresh air away from the stringent rules of this military compound.

Alucard shadowing you was now a familiar comfort so you knew you were not alone, but there was a purpose to your trip today and with him absent, it was the perfect chance to go.

There was a bounce to your step as you made your way through one of countless identical hallways with freedom on your mind. One painting after another passed by. You halted, your hair standing on end at once when your eyes skimmed over a detail on the wall by chance. Crimson glowed from the irises in a noble’s portrait. Letting out a breath, you put a hand over your chest and scowled at Alucard.

The eyes curled with laughter. “You are becoming quite adept at seeking out my presence.” The shadows peeled from the painting and the towering vampire stepped out to stare down at you. “You cannot escape from me. I will always find you wherever you go.” He announced with a self-assured expression.

“I wasn’t even running this time,” you replied with an indignant shrug and tugged the straps to your bag higher over your shoulders. “I already have plans today. Find something else to do with yourself that doesn't involve bothering me.” There was a glint in his eyes as that smirk grew wider.

Your brows twitched. “I don’t need an armed escort!”

He was following you down the hall, so you ignored him as you kept walking towards the foyer, now used to the way his smooth gait made him appear as if he was almost floating. When the infuriating vampire remained at your heel several paces later, you spun, bristling as you tried to shoo him off like a pest. “Must you follow me? I’ll be back soon and it’s daytime!” You asked him.

He caught your hands with a light touch and brought his face close to yours, softly rubbing circles on your palms with his thumbs.

“You are my responsibility,” he whispered.

It was Sir Integra’s command. Vermillion pinned you to the spot and you glared back, pressing your lips together until you broke eye contact first and stared at the carpeted floor. You were his.

Alucard had already decided to join his human on the day’s adventures despite your protests. And so you ended up going shopping with an ancient peacock who didn’t know how not to attract attention.

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

Colourful displays lined both sides of the boulevard and people were queuing outside several of the most popular boutiques. The atmosphere was electric with the air buzzing with life and excited chatter. You would have shared in the high spirits of the strangers around you, if it weren’t for your flashy companion souring the mood.

You were an idiot. You spent so much time researching which specialty stores you wanted to visit, you made no alternate plans in case anyone from Hellsing decided to keep tabs on you. Worst of all, it had to be Alucard. There would actually be no issue if it was anyone but him. All you wanted to do was to buy him a gift! How could anyone so old be this clueless?!

The flamboyant vampire towered more than a foot over nearly every person around him and people were giving him space. The bright red of his fedora and trench coat screamed, but who were you trying to fool? Alucard would still stand out wearing anything else in each of his forms. It was in his nature for the curtains to be drawn for him on stage.

The problem was you didn’t appreciate the attention as people gawked at Alucard, even if you couldn’t deny that it was convenient to have the crowd part to make way for the pair of you coming through. You stewed as you tried to think up a way to get him to give you a few minutes alone, but every swoosh of his duster only exacerbated your ire. With his telepathy, he should know what you were up to, so any element of surprise was already ruined.

“I can scent your frustration,” he stated with his signature grin plastered to his face.

“Why yes. Ever since I became incarcerated at Hellsing, it’s been ‘go go go’ all day, everyday. And now on my only full day off in quite a while, I’m stuck with you. Can’t a lady get some privacy?” You railed to air your grievances.

“You are not a prisoner,” he murmured with a frown while gazing down at you. Unreadable golden pools swirled lazily behind tinted lenses.

You rolled your eyes and was about to remind him of all your lost privileges.

“You are not a prisoner,” he repeated with his eyes narrowed, “You are mine.”

You jolted, eyes widening before your mouth clamped shut. The vampire was so casual with throwing the assertion around, especially in public. Of course you knew it already. He told you multiple times before and frequently referred to you as ‘his human,’ ‘his Darling,’ or something to that effect.

Alucard’s gloved hand remained on the small of your back as he guided you through the throngs, feeling strangely comforted by the claim of possession. It was the same way as he would through the manor, particularly on nights you were feeling intensely uncertain about your place at Hellsing, he would proudly let the world know you were with him.

You wanted to melt into the ground at the thought that being Alucard’s was merely a euphemism for being his prisoner.

Lifting your eyes as you noted the cross-section and stalled, the background noise of the crowd disappeared as you became the only two people in the world. The people flowed around you. You fidgeted from foot to foot as you looked back up at your vampire.

“We’re here,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze snapped from you to the storefront. A chocolate store?

“It was meant to be a surprise.” You muttered with a deflated pout. It really wasn’t that big of a deal for Alucard to accompany your outing, but you wanted to keep the small components under wraps until you were ready to present them together.

When you looked back up, your view was obscured by a huge white palm. Alucard’s hand landed on your head and he ruffled your hair. His expression was warm. “I will wait here,” he said.

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

You made relatively quick work of shopping inside, though you had a blast conversing with the owner and choosing the chocolates for your……boyfriend…

Your choices were loaded with coffee and alcohol-infused truffles. Alucard seemed the sort to enjoy the various champagne, whiskey, and espresso flavours.

Making your way through the patterned glass exit with the fancy bag filled with premium confections, waves of irritation washed over you upon seeing several young women making eyes at Alucard from a short distance. Luckily for them, they weren’t daring enough to approach the strange man. You pushed the feeling down and went up to him, whose gaze was already fixed on you before you opened the door.

“Little one, shall we depart to your next destination? The sun is rather fatiguing.” He greeted you with a grin as you took his arm.

“I apologize for keeping you past your bedtime. I told you to stay home,” you scoffed while rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you act more like a vampire and stay out of the sun like Seras?”

The original vampire lifted a brow at you. “The police girl refuses to drink and as such, she has not yet become a true vampire.”

You peered up and let out an exasperated sigh, “Stop calling her that. It’s not nice! She has a name and you’re always too harsh with her.”

“I’m not nice.”

You snorted at the amused vampire as a teen on a hoverboard charged closer at speed until his eyes popped at the sight of the crimson giant ahead, swerving to avoid Alucard and nearly crashing to the side. Expletives were hurled his way by other pedestrians as you and your vampire left the scene without a second glance.

“Little human, you referred to Hellsing as ‘home.’”

“I did…” You tilted your head with puzzlement, not even noticing when the word slipped as you were conversing. When did you start thinking of that place as such when the lifestyle there remained so foreign? You glanced up to study your lover’s face.

Alucard purred softly, the image of satisfaction. Up against him, only you would feel the vibrations of the rumble. "If you were my fledgling, I would not hesitate to feed you. We would have an eternity for me to teach you the ways of our kind."

There was heat in his eyes and you quickly looked away, so flustered your eyes darted everywhere except back at him. You weren’t prepared for ruminating such prospects nor this discussion again. Your companion chuckled at your reaction as he led you through a quieter street.

People meandered leisurely, stopping to point at the latest statement releases of the season. You ambled along awkwardly, caught up in the reveries of your own life for some distance until something in a display caught your eyes. Oh! Your interest had been piqued for months; you even spent hours on researching the specs and other alternatives to this product. You turned your head to stare at it as you passed.

Alucard stopped.

You barely noticed him as your eyes watered at the price until he was slipping away and heading to the entrance.

“Wait! No!” Grabbing onto his wrists, you tried to yank him away from behind. “It’s way too expensive for what it is!”

He took another step forward, dragging you with him, so you raced around to his front to block his approach.

“If you desire this item, I shall purchase it for you.”

“Alucard, stop! I really don’t need it!” Money was no object to the eldritch terror, but you put your hands to his chest and applied pressure to try nudging him away, to no avail. Several couples who were close slowed to observe the spectacle. A young woman tittered at what she undoubtedly thought was a cute exchange between a dark, dashing stranger and his romantic interest.

“Sweet, you should seize the things you desire, but if you are unwilling, I shall, as my offerings to you.”

Seize–

Your eyes bugged and you giggled sheepishly at the Medieval man in front of you. You pushed at his chest to try steering him away again with a big smile. Alucard’s brows furrowed.

“Something is amusing?”

You bursted out laughing, but attempted to maintain some decorum, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than you already were.

You whispered so only he heard you. “Alucard, you’re so silly! Sometimes people browse stuff only because the idea of those material goods bring them some joy, not because we actually want or need them. Have you forgotten what it is like to be human? It seems you have a lot to remember about human emotions.” Still snickering lightly, you tugged the large vampire down to lay a peck to his forehead.

You beamed at Alucard before running ahead to the next store, leaving him behind with a stunned expression.

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

You had the wine and the chocolate. And Alucard suggested a much better destination to enjoy them together than your original idea of having them in his dungeon with just the two of you, though you had to make a detour to pick up plastic wine cups.

The rambling hills of Hampstead Heath rolled in tumbling waves over hundreds of acres that embraced ponds and woodlands. You passed the drive leading to the historic grounds of the Kenwood Estate. As beautiful as the building was, the idea was to escape from British mansions for the day.

Dense reeds swayed in coordination with the wind, thick and with the likeness of a woman batting her lashes at a lover. Waterfowl were returning to the ponds and the occasional nature photographer stopped to capture these winged marvels. Alucard took you through trails down the east end of the enormous park, sticking close to the ponds until you reached a clearing, and suddenly, the tranquil stroll through nature exploded with life.

It had been years since you last sat at this lovely hilltop viewpoint overlooking London’s skyline. Couples abounded in every direction. It seemed romance was in the air this mild, sunny day. Some younger pairs frolicked in a merry gambol while others sat together head on shoulder to enjoy the spectacular view. It was so warm there were even families picnicking.

Yes, this was superior to that dingy basement.

Nostalgia hit you hard as you took in the views of home. You used to live in that neighbourhood roughly over there. Day in and day out, you’d make your commute between work and home. And Alucard used to chase you around that area, though most of it was hidden from this vantagepoint. Turning to your lover, you found him lost in thought as well as he gazed into the distance, recalling a past brimming with events unknown to you.

The midnight essence of his locks billowed gently with the breeze. He was so pale. Despite his conviction about hating the sun, once again, the light casted his arresting features with a divine glow. Like a fallen angel, or something even holier.

From out of the blue, the hilarious image of Alucard as Cupid bubbled up. He was a lanky deity draped in loose robes, wielding a bow and shooting arrows at random pairs of people for his entertainment. That they would fall in love was merely an accidental by-product of his fun. You squashed the ridiculous idea hopefully before Alucard saw it too, but let out a chortle. God of Love? Him? Who were you kidding? Your vampire’s gaze slid sideways to you with a slight fanged smile before he turned his attention back to the cityscape.

The mellow warmth of the unseasonal weather gave you comfort. You came to the realization your previous qualms about the obstacles of being with Alucard were fading. Like leftover winter sludge melting away with the balminess of spring, replaced by your gentle, simmering affection for the vampire. Spring will arrive early, and the barren trees will likely come into bud soon as the season of new beginnings comes into being.

As always, Alucard grounded you too. Watching him stand alone, all of your doubt suddenly went away somehow. You were getting used to the late nights, early mornings, and the smarting bruises from physical training. It wasn’t awful at Hellsing as long as you had him.

You opted to forego Alucard’s old-fashioned way of taking his offered arm and laced your fingers with his instead. Putting your other hand over the back of Alucard’s, you exhaled. “You probably already knew of all my plans since you spoiled the surprise yourself by poking around in my head.”

You chose a grassy spot where the hill swelled higher to sit and your vampire joined you, throwing his spidery legs straight out as he leaned back on his hands.

“I know of the saint.” He glanced over. “Such an inane occasion.” To need the excuse of some saint’s legacy from over a millennium ago in order to celebrate one’s lover was indeed absurd.

The corners of your lips lifted. “Have you never celebrated Valentine’s before, Alucard?”

“Time spent with you is already the greatest gift.”

His stare was intense and your expression softened, your chest tightening at the sincerity of your lover’s statement, no longer feeling like being a brat. Time was indeed your limiting factor. You met halfway and kissed him with an extended, delicate touch to show him you felt the same way and he nuzzled you, as he usually did.

Yours.

“Feed me,” he murmured as you parted with a soft, dreamy look. This again. You rolled your eyes at his demand, but complied.

After letting the vampire open his gift himself, you went with a champagne truffle to start –to commemorate the occasion, but also everything that transpired between you. How far you’d come from where you began.

You sucked in a breath as the cold muscle of Alucard’s tongue slipped around your finger after he took the treat. He licked the melting chocolate off your fingertips with a deep rumble.

“We’re in public!” You gasped and ripped your hand away as he lapped at his lips with a satisfied grin. He sniffed the air.

“Scotch next,” he said.

“Only if you’ll stop being a creep!”

The vampire chuckled as he helped open the red wine. He turned the bottle over to read the label before decanting into the plastic cups. “Ah –an excellent choice.” He eyed the box as you referred to the legend to find his choice of scotch truffle. Not everyone could simply sniff out what was what from several feet away.

You offered the next piece and he bit into it while holding your gaze. Not bothered by his antics this time, you tossed the other half in your own mouth and savoured the flavours melting into your tongue. Swirling your glass, you took a sip of wine when the chocolate passed, pleased to find the flavours went well together.

Beside you, Alucard sampled his own glass and let out a contented moan. You shimmied closer to rest your head on his shoulder in imitation of the other couples around you and peeked up at him again with a tiny smile. It really was pleasant to see him this relaxed and carefree.

He fed you a strawberry truffle, leaving his index finger on your lips while you chewed, only to stroke your bottom lip after you swallowed. You broke physical contact first, sure the two of you were the subjects of greater scrutiny to whoever watched you long enough.

“This is why I can’t be in public with you!”

Your companion’s face broke into a wicked smirk. “Still heeding what others may think?”

“If you’d be normal, I wouldn’t have this issue. Not everyone enjoys being at the centre of attention.”

Alucard’s eyes narrowed into slits, though the smile now split his face in half. He was up to something and you were worried to find out what.

He stood abruptly and extended a hand to you, which you hesitantly took with a suspicious side-eye as he lifted you to your feet and you dusted off imaginary dirt from your bottom.

“Would my lady care for a dance?” The hypnotic timbre to his voice distracted you from the question.

Your mouth fell open when it dawned after a moment. You just told him! Centre of attention!

A busker was playing the cello in the park, the sweet melody carrying far into the distance. You knew all the lyrics to this song’s instrumental version.

The vampire guided your left hand to his outer arm to form a closed hold, a playful glint in his scarlet gaze. “H-here? I can’t–” you protested.

He was already moving. It was as if he pushed you along for the first few steps and you faltered, still reeling from the turn of events, but the vampire held you steady. Stand up straight, support your own weight, maintain muscle tone. Keep your weight at the front of your feet. The ballroom teachings from a lifetime ago whispered from memory.

Alucard was an experienced dancer. He led you expertly with fluid motions, drawing you in and nudging you away with clear signals that made it easy to follow. You felt the connection between your bodies. You twirled when he lifted your arm in an arc, spun into his arm backwards when he willed it. You stepped in time to the same rhythm as the background faded.

One step closer.

The chords sang out harmonious and clear. He was speeding up. Gradually, you danced faster and faster, waltzing to the beat in Alucard’s mind, a whirlwind of feet and swirling trench coats under the afternoon sun. You stepped backwards quickly as he rushed forward boldly, all your attention given to him for you to keep up. As was his attention dedicated to you.

Never once did he step on you, one of his feet was offset precisely between yours whenever he brought you flush with him. Never once did he look away from you or let you lose your balance. Who would have expected this wild beauty to be able to take his battle finesse and flow like water transformed by music?

Only you and him existed in the world, the colours and promises of a future together swelling your chest with joy that was at last blooming from a once dormant seed, one that only began to sprout in recent times. Despite his annoying quirks, you could envision a lifetime with this man. The idyllic routine of late was not so bad.

The song was nearing its end. The vampire picked you off the ground by the legs, the other hand around your back and spun with you cradled in his arms effortlessly. Your shit-eating grin matched your lover’s.

You finished your dance with one last spin and you curtsied to the audience that gathered. Your heart beat fast as you laughed and jumped at Alucard, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Please don’t let this end. You lost your reservations with the exhilaration, pressing your lips harder against the cool flesh and taking the time to breathe him in as the surroundings returned.

Looking around, you heard cheers, whooping, and clapping for your performance as you caught your breath. That was so surreal, but it was actually a lot of fun.

The music of your laughter chimed in Alucard’s ears and mind, clear as a ringing bell and pure and indulgent. It was your jubilation in his chest, the innocent joy at being with him. There was a warm fuzzy feeling that flared as you caught his gaze again. Cupping the back of your head, his gaze grew tender and he leaned over to make doling out your affection on him easier on you. Your excitement wafted off your skin. His bangs formed a veil as he pressed your foreheads together and committed this moment to memory.

You were simply too precious for this world.

~To Be Continued~

Next Chapter- True Bravery

Notes:

The material goods Alucard uses are all luxury when it comes to weaponry, costing millions of pounds and a sizable dent in Integra’s budget. But Alucard can also be a minimalist and existed in less than Spartan conditions in the Hellsing basement before Reader. When it comes to his Reader, I think all Alucard would want is her time, touch, and her attention. He doesn’t need expensive gifts from her and would be displeased if she went out of her way to get something exorbitant for him. I actually wanted her to take Alucard to see a Broadway musical for a date, but writing a chapter following a live show’s plot and their interactions was too large of a task.

Reader is finally understanding Alucard's point whenever he declares that she is his and how it’s not a bad thing. It’s not merely a statement of possession, but also a promise.

Please read: Is anyone interested in reading some Vladcard bondage smut? I was staring at a pic of him and then BOOM! Horny! A potential Interlude 3 is brewing. Let me know either in the comments or on my poll to vote anonymously for a few more days. If this isn’t sexy, I’ll just keep my fantasy to myself, let it run wild, and continue with the storyline.

The above fanart is among my favourite images of Alucard that exists. It was created by the incredibly talented ケースワベ【K-SUWABE】 on Twitter (X). Thought it was perfect for the contents of this chapter.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard hellsing #alucard fanfiction #alucard #hellsing ultimate #my comfort vampire #vampire boyfriend #happy valentines

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tornrose24 · 3 months

Text

I’ve been rewatching The Ghost and Molly McGee and have concluded watching season 1. These are my thoughts and observations:

-I love how Scratch slowly warms up to Molly across the season and it is easier to catch when you watch the episodes in order. From going to a complete jerk, to valuing her friendship, to caring about how she views him, to not wanting to lose her.

-I also love how this show’s art style is like a storybook come to life in every shot.

-It makes even more sense as to why Scratch haunts Adia’s old home. Todd’s soul gravitated to the one place in Brighton that held happy memories for him, where life had yet to turn him into an anxious, fearful adult. It was a safe space for him, and he was mad when a family managed to move in and invade it. Especially Molly specifically moving into his personal room/the safest spot in the house for him.

-Molly and Scratch are BOTH horrible liars. It’s funny how similar they are in that detail, and it’s even funnier if they call each other out on it.

-Scratch is an absolute asshole to a lot of people and enjoys seeing them suffer during this season, but I think that partly stems from a ‘I was/am miserable so I like seeing others suffer.’

-I’d say Molly’s worst episode is the Snow Day episode (not listening to what everyone else wants to do) and Scratch’s worst episode is the Internship episode (taking advantage of an intern to do basic, unhelpful tasks and being a bigger asshole than usual).

-Molly nearly dies 4 times (the machine during ‘Friend off,’ was willing to catch hypothermia in order to have fun in the snow, was almost hit by the truck, and was nearly sliced in half by Jinx).

-Scratch, Mr. ‘So afraid of dying that I never lived a day’…. Gets trampled by animals, eats poison berries, gets hit by a tour bus, gets blended by the machine from ‘Friend off,’ and is sliced in half by Jinx among all the possible things that WOULD have killed him in this season if he hadn’t been a ghost at the time.

-In ‘Very Hungry Ghost’ Scratch doesn’t get to eat any of the food intended for the ghosts. Because he wasn’t fully a ghost, that feast was not meant to be eaten by him.

-I admit I have yet to catch Scratch’s ‘nervous habit of scratching his arm’ during these episodes.

-There’s a recurring theme of the adult characters regaining their passion for something they once loved in a few episodes.

-However I also appreciate showing very realistic struggles, like financial concerns and how you can’t magically restore your community and town to its glory days without some effort put into it.

-Libby’s mom can be seen as an early cameo during ‘The (Un)natural.’ Of course, she would be there for her daughter ^_^

-I’m not a huge fan of the Christmas episode (never rewatched it until now) but GOD do I love the pink sky they use against the Christmas decorations and snow.

-In Pete’s news article in ‘Twin Trouble’, it mentions that other city planners mysteriously disappeared. However, I don’t think the show EVER addressed that, because such a story fascinated me and made me wonder if there was more to Brighton than meets the eye.

-There was a wasted opportunity in not discussing who or WHAT The Chairman was. Was this mystery meant for season 3?

-Scratch mentioning that he is dead throughout the show hits differently now that we know its quite the opposite. So does seeing him having to do mandatory things for the ghost world that he technically shouldn’t NEED to be doing at that moment.

-So does his interactions with Geoff. Oh boy.

-Was Scratch specifically assigned to scare Brighton? What about the other ghosts from there, like the Tugbottom siblings? Howlin Harriet? Sonia? Why don’t we see them doing their job as much as Scratch has to?

-The sheer irony of Scratch believing that he didn’t have any fears in ‘Scaring is Caring’ only for fear to be the reason WHY he was a ghost to begin with. Once again, there’s a hell of a difference between ‘Scratch as a human being afraid of everything’ and ‘Scratch as a ghost being afraid of losing Molly and would do anything to save her.’

-No seriously, it gets to a point where Scratch risks his existence to save Molly in this season and in the next one-if he had been human, he would have been willing to die for her.

-‘All Night Plight’ is an episode I hadn’t rewatched until recently. And it hits a LOT differently this time around. Molly wanted to form a forever memory with Libby and Scratch by seeing that comet and she managed to win over Scratch who went above and beyond to ensure that was possible. While that memory is now somewhere hidden in Scratch’s mind as a living person, this episode likely was one of the events needed to push him into becoming someone who would take chances and embrace life upon coming back to life.

-Considering the number of times Molly almost dies, it would have been one thing if Scratch didn’t take it too well if he failed to save Molly. But if he learned that he was the one who had the chance to come back to life and not her? Yeah, that would have seriously wrecked his mental state.

-That moment when you realize that it was TWO souls hovering on the edge between life and death that changed everything in the Ghost World. Also I could be wrong, but I caught that Molly AND Scratch both have a brighter glow compared to most other ghosts in the Ghost World. Was this stealth foreshadowing, or just a coincidence?

-Scratch’s declaration that knowing Molly was the highlight of his afterlife. That moment when you realize Molly brought him joy after years of being miserable as both a ghost and as a human. This girl reached out to him and was able to get him to open up when no one else did. This girl who is showing him how to truly live once more. This girl who he openly declares to be his friend no matter what others will think.

-When I see Wraith!Molly hugging Libby and Scratch, I just wonder ‘WHY DOES MOLLY HAVE 3 ARMS?!’

-As good as this show is, a lot of folks who watch these Disney Channel shows are likely used to the more story-oriented shows. While the ‘slice of life’ style for TGAMM did pay off, the slow pace and length it took for the episodes to release likely worked against it and I could see why it didn’t attract more viewers at the time.

Stuff relating to Todd:

-Scratch possesses people a lot in this show, but especially in season 1. I’m reminded of someone who talked about the wraith theory on YouTube and he had this guess that Scratch might someday possess Todd and then realize something is different this time. I think that having Scratch use the possession trick so often was building up to that one moment in the last episode because it WAS a matter of time until he possessed Todd.

-As I said in a previous post, I caught Todd in the stands during The (Un)Natural, which was his ACTUAL debut episode. It was easy to miss the first time, but its a noticeable establishing character moment since he’s the only audience member who is visibly NOT happy despite that the team is winning.

-Molly stopping at Todd’s house during the song montage in the bandshell episode hits a lot differently now after the series finale. But then I laughed when she smacked him in the face with a flyer upon stopping by the house a second time in the same episode.

-We have confirmation that Scratch (as Todd) knew the mayor when they were kids and that is a tale I’m very curious about.

-I caught Todd in the audience during ‘Citizen McGee’ when the mayor bestows the honor of being mayor for a day to Molly. I admit a cynical side of me thinks that this is how he actually remembers her name in the last episode…. But at the same time he was so on auto-pilot during that time that he likely wouldn’t pay much attention or remember those events that well. (Plus, you can’t be expected to remember someone’s name once all the time). I refuse to believe that he remembered this event and that Scratch’s memories were what actually triggered the name.

-Todd’s actual lines are very limited (I don’t think he gets many in season 2 compared to this one). While Dana Snyder was voicing him, Snyder lowered his voice so much that it’s really hard to tell that he’s the one voicing Todd. I keep putting my ear to my computer to listen, but Todd barely sounds like Dana. I think they did this on purpose to avoid making it too obvious that Todd IS Scratch. (And that’s probably why he doesn’t talk as much in season 2…. Until the last episode of course).

-The Internship seems to double as foreshadowing, and not just because Todd appears or that his ‘junk’ held some very crucial clues. Molly believes that the pawnshop is where happy memories go to die while Weird Larry assures her that it’s where memories can be reborn into something new. So… is the pawnshop a metaphor for Scratch’s own depression causing his ‘death’ and how he’ll be resurrected into a happier person?

#the ghost and molly mcgee #the ghost and molly mcgee spoilers #i'll need a break before i rewatch all of season 2 #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #todd mortenson

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rizykim · 8 months

Text

Soju | Jay Park

Pairing: Friend!Jay × You

Summery: Jay had been having a crush on you for a while now and he doesn't know when or how he should confess,untill he got to know that you were asked out by someone else which led him into being a heartbroken mess thinking you will accept them and went on drinking soju the whole night till he can't stand straight.

Warning: Fluff, Alcohol consumption and jealousy

Word count: 1K

Note: Instead of 'Y/n' it'll be '___' for you enter your name and this my first time writing oneshot fluff and if you did enjoy please do leave a like and repost if you can,it would help alot!

"Uh,hello?" You said you were entering the small red street food tent. All the tables were empty, and the sound of light rain outside kept them from being silent in the night.

Ah, you're here; you're the one I was on the phone with, right?" The old lady who was behind the grill of the shop came around and said

Yeah, that's me,the one you called saying Jay was tipsy,but may I ask why you called me to come get him? I'm sorry if I sound rude. It's just that he has more people to be there for him, and you know..." She said it, chuckling nervously.

"Oh, sorry, dear, but your number was the one that caught my attention since it was saved with five hearts, and I thought it might be his girlfriend." The women said this, making the younger girl widen her eyes at them.

'He saved me how?' She asked herself internally but kept going.

"I called you because Jay had drank too much and I had to close the shop, but he wouldn't budge at all,and since he had walked here, I thought it would be too dangerous to let him go all by himself. Sorry for bothering you, dear." The lady said it in an apologetic manner.

"Oh no, no, it's okay. Don't apologize. I was just surprised to get a call asking me to get here to get him. That's all. It's alright." She said, smiling before a little bow, and walked further into the tent to see Jay thrown over a table messily with tons of soju bottles lying near the ground and table. His hair was distorted, his eyes closed, and his cheeks were puffy with a slight tint of pink covering them.

"Did you seriously drink this much, huh?" She said she was trying to get a hold of his torso to get him up.

"Mmph! Who are you? Stop touching me!" He shook off her hands with his eyes still closed and laid back down on the table.

Hey, you've got to get going; you need to rest." She tried to get him again, but he brushed her off.

"No! What's the point of sleeping if I can't see her the next day? It's just useless, I say!" He blabbered,his drunk voice making it sound funny to her as she tried to hold back a laugh.

"What do you mean?" She asked to play along and sat on the opposite side.

"The girl I like..." He started,his stretched arm with his other hand stayed on top of the elbow joint, and his face rested at the very top of it.

"Yeah?" She replied, getting curious.

"I got asked out by some random jerk today, and I don't know if she will say yes or no to him," he said, leaving the girl to furrow her eyes at his statement.

'Is he talking about me?' She asked herself, 'Nah, it's probably someone else. She shook off the thought.

"So? What's wrong with that?" Suddenly he lifted his head up, and his eyes barely opened wide for a second before closing.

"What's-what's wrong with that?! What's wrong with that?" He dramatically emphasized Thankfully, they were the only ones there, and the old lady chuckled at his loud remark while cleaning up everything at her cooking station.

"I had been liking her more than anyone had, and I want to tell her my feelings, but I don't know how to do it all this time. But now it's all useless; she'll choose him and not me. I'll be left here single and heartbroken till eternity." He finished off with a hiccup leaving his mouth.

"Oh yeah? Why do you think she'd choose him?" She asked, leaning on the table with her folded arms.

"Cause...cause...he said he likes him and he-he just is good for her because that idiot is actually a good guy...dumb idiot..." He reached his arm to grab a bottle of soju that had a little more in it, but ___ took it away, making Jay grab an empty one and try to take a sip, but no alcohol was left in the bottle.

Jay looked through his tiny opening of blurred vision but couldn't see properly. "I had an unfinished one. Where did it go?" He looked around but couldn't find it.

Oops, sorry, I drank it," ___ said, hiding it behind her back.

"What? I don't—I don't even know you—and you drank it without my permission? How dare you? It was hard trying to be serious when he was acting so lost.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I don't know her name. If I did, I could talk to her maybe." Her words made him feel some hope in him.

"Really?! You would do that?" He was amazed at the stranger's odd kindness.

"Yeah,just tell me her name."

"It's-wait,are you trying to trick me into saying her name so you could ask her out too? Huh! You thought wrong; I won't say it!" He said he tried to stand up but fell back on his chair. ___ quickly went around and helped him up.

"Go away, you creep! I won't tell ___'s name to you ever!" He tried to get away but couldn't since he was having trouble walking and didn't even realize he had already said her name, which also went unnoticed by ___.

Oh, c'mon, Jay, I'm your friend." She tried to convince him.

"No, your not." He protested until ___ rubbed his head, making him fall asleep instantly. Slumping on her shoulder while she tried to hold him properly by his waist.

"Good bye, Halmoni" she mouthed to the old lady who bid her goodbye.

___ stepped out of her car and went around it,getting the sleeping Jay back to lying his head on her shoulder, and took him to his apartment. It was a real hustle manoeuvring him around from waking him up unintentionally.

After what felt like forever,she reached the floor he was on and got to his door to realize it needed a passcode to open.

"Hey, wake up... Jay, what's your door passcode? Hey Jongseong, do you read me?" She lightly patted the side of his face, and he lazily shifted his face on her shoulder.

"___'s...birth year..." He whispered before going back to sleeping.

'What? Why, my birthda-wait,does he actually like me? Was I the one he was mummbling about?' She questioned herself, looking at Jay. 'But first, let's get him inside; he's so heavy...'

She entered his apartment to be greeted with a beautiful and simple interior that screamed 'rich. She looked around in awe as she stepped to his couch. Flopping him there, I took off his footwear and jacket, keeping them in their proper places.

Okay, now you've got to wake up..." She decided and started to shake his arm.

"Hey,Park Jongseong, wake up. You're at your house. Wake up." ___ still couldn't wake him up, even after so many attempts. Finally, she thought of a great way to wake him up.

JAY, YOUR CLOSET IS ON FIRE QUICK!" She shouted as if it were happening in real time, and as expected, he woke up with a jolt.

"WHAT? WHER-___ what you doing in my house... ___ WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!?" He flinched seeing her presence next to him,kneeling on the ground while he laid on the couch.

"Woah woah easy boy easy..." She laughed at his reaction. "Oh yeah,the old lady at the street food place called me asking to take you home as she thought the person who was saved with five hearts was your girlfriend... If you don't mind...wanna explain if your back to concious?"

"Oh shoot. I'm so sorry. I'll change it." He sat up,trying to go and get his jacket to get his phone from it.

No, no wait..." She stopped him and sat next to him. "Just tell me what that was about and why you drank till you dropped." Jay gulped,trying to decide whether to tell her or not.

"You can't hide it anymore. You saved me in your contacts like that. You said you were drinking because you were heartbroken about how some other guy asked me out, and your door passcode is my birth year."

"Uh...well... Ok, yes, I do like you, but it's alright. I'm sorry, I'll change everything-" Before he could complete his sentence, ___ hugged him.

"You know you're the idiot, because if you told me earlier, I would've seriously been yours by now? You know why?" She came closer to his ear,keeping her hand over his ear. "Because I like you too... hehe."

Jay looked at her with wide eyes,in disbelief of what he just heard: the girl he had been liking for so long was just casually telling him that now.

"Y-you really do?" He asked, to which she nodded her head.

"Then what about that guy?" He asked.

"You mean Jaemin? He wanted my help with how he should confess to the girl he liked."

"So does that mean you would like to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes...I do" She said it, giggling, and hugged him once more. Jay leaped over her, tackling her in a big hug and smiling, "Thank you so much. I love you!" He said his smile never left his face.

"I love you too!" She said that and melted into the warm embrace. Seeping into the beautiful moment they were having. The night went by as they fell asleep like that,waking up in the morning with a smile after finding out the other was still in their arms.

I dunno if this is good :'D

#enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #cute love #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay fluff #drunk confessions #enha #enhypen jongseong #jongseong fluff

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soranihimawari · 6 months

Text

Cats & Sweet Starts

Kuroo Tetsurō has been nominated for many things: most likely to succeed, most likely to be chemistry quiz bowl champion, most likely to date a supermodel… but when he stands in front of you at your first JVA-interns reunion, he’s sopping wet from the beer a horrid ex-boyfriend of yours throws at your face. Or at least tried to.

“You always protected ‘em huh Kuroo? Just like helped cover her mistakes when the boss was around,” the jerk scoffs.

“I just did it because you kept putting ‘em down at the board meetings, asshole,” Kuroo says before wiping his face. He turns to you asking if you’re ok, you nods. However, before your old fling at the office leaves, you put your glass down and march right up and sock the idiot who ruined your friend’s suit with your fist.

Kuroo laughs a bit stunned you could hit that hard. Jerk of an ex-fling looks at you and rubs his cheek.

“Pop quiz dickweed,” you square your shoulders in your bar attire. “Before volleyball what was the the one sport I was the captain for?”

The rag doll of a guy who probably has an STD now for being a player looks at you says you probably broke his cheek and you shake your head.

“Does it look like I care? You ruined our reunion. Get out of here,” turns to look at Kuroo with an apologetic smile. “Your suit’s ruined. I really liked that one too….”

An hour or so later, the pub is lively again and you walk together with your current department neighbor at the JVA. He talks about how badass you were after he took the whiskey sour hit on your behalf.

“… but you kicked Kuwabara’s ass. Have you always been that strong?”

You’re at the lobby of Kuroo’s apartment complex about to leave after saying your goodnights.

“Hmm… you didn’t know me in high school, but i guess I still am, haha. Don’t forget I’m paying for your dry cleaning. Just send me in the invoice, ok Kuroo-kun?”

He nods and waves as you head to your home via hailing a cab.

You’re about to be dropped off in your drive way when you piece some things together and tell the driver you’d pay him double to take you back to the apartment complex he picked you up in.

The ride back to Kuroo’s complex was an entertaining one. You tell the driver all about how Kuroo introduced himself in the first day; you were cubicle buddies for the next six to eight months during your internship five years ago; now you’ve officially signed on with him your department and his work on promotional athletes from the national team…

“I’m in merchandise development and he’s in sports contracts,” you say proudly at the light right before the complex.

“And falling in like, happened when?” The driver asks bemused.

“Three years ago when we had to fake a relationship so his family would stop worrying about him too much,” you smile.

“And falling in love…?”

“Two hours ago when my ex splashed a cocktail all over his face…thanks mister.”

You hand the driver some cash and run straight to the elevators.

Meanwhile, Kuroo is on the phone with his team trying to sort out his emotions that are tied to you until one of them turns into all of them saying what he’s known since you bought him that little cactus for his big boy promotion desk. It stares at him everyday and he watered it for a year then on the eve of your friendship anniversary (his idea you went along with), you tell him it’s a fake plant. You and him laughed together over tea time. Kuroo’s friends agree saying he’s just got to for it and see what works.

“I gotta go fellas, thanks,” Kuroo hangs up and though he is in his tank top under shirt and old college sweatpants, his finger hovers over your name on his phone. Sighing he’s about to call you when he hears a knock and goes to open the door after seeing who it was.

“YN?”

You smile brightly apologizing for the late house call after you saw each other not that long ago:

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, standing on your toes to kiss him.

Kuroo’s golden eyes seem matte and warm when you pull away. Your cheek is stroked gently by his curled forefinger and his other hand holds you steady when you return to the ground shoes and all.

“Wh-when?” He lingers near you before you push him inside to close the door behind you. His smile is Cheshire like and cheeks are a soft plum pink under the fluorescent lighting of his living room. He holds your hand and realizes you haven’t answered just yet, but he sees your blush spread.

“Pub,” you laugh and he cups your face to kiss you again. “You?”

“When you reminded me you did judo,” Kuroo laughs too, letting you kiss him for as long as you’re able to. He returns them with as much vitality as he deems worthy.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fluff

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mydetheturk · 6 months

Note

shy kiss please!

This is very very late but!!! Kissies from Razlo!! (his big emotions also got away from me a little but he's just so !!!)

Razlo paces back and forth, nibbling on a nail. He's stuck in a fierce internal debate with Livio.

Well she ain’t gonna kill you, Livio mutters. Razlo gets the impression that were Livio the one piloting right now, he'd be sitting in a chair with his head tipped back, whole form slouching.

Razlo paces a bit faster.

“What if she just, like, stabs us with her cane?” Razlo blurts out. Why is he nervous??? It's not like Elendira hasn't impaled him before – it's not like he doesn't dream about it some nights, waking up in charge, skin tingling, the phantom feeling of yarz long nails embedded in his lungs.

Raz.

“Shut! Up! Livio!” Razlo squawks. “Quiet time! Go! Go be quiet in our head somewhere!”

Livio laughs at him before dropping into the cracks and crevasses of their mind. Jerk face.

Razlo's not nervous, nope. Not at all.

His hands are just shaky and his palms sweaty and his heart keeps fluttering over the fact that Elendira the Crimsonnail, coolest, most badass, angriest woman Razlo's ever met, kissed him!!!!

Him!

His loud, shouty face! On the lips!!!!!

And now he kind of wants to kiss her again!

Razlo buries his face in his hands and makes a noise like a deflating thomas. He can't be a coward about this. He can't! She's just. She's just. She's so pretty, and a little delicate and soft, and throws her head back when she laughs, and touches him so, so softly that it makes Razlo want to fucking melt into a little puddle of Tri-Punisher.

He's gonna die. He's gonna die and leave Livio permanently in charge and all of his hard work keeping them alive will go down the drain cause Razlo has died of “This woman who has actively tried to kill me is too damn hot and I want to hold her hand.”

Oh fuck he wants to hold her hand.

Razlo decides that pacing the tiny room back and forth is not helping his state of whatever and starts making laps around the Ship. He knows when and where Elendira has what the doctor assigned to her calls “physical therapy so you don't lose your internal goddamn organs” and Elendira calls “punishment from an old bastard for living.”

(Razlo won't admit it, but he likes the cranky old doctor, someone the lady in charge pulled out of cold storage after the fucked up puppet guy had attacked this place. Turns out the old doc had been a surgeon back in the day, back Before, and was used to cranky paramilitary groups. Where the fuck the lady in charge found this guy, Razlo has NO fucking clue.)

Razlo tries not to pass the room where Elendira's going through more exercises and stretches more than once or twice or maybe three times. Livio's gonna laugh so hard at him when he finds out and then Razlo's going to have to kick his ass and then where will they be? Back to square one again and healing from a self inflicted black eye????

Razlo finds himself right outside the door when Elendira comes out, gritting her teeth against the pain, a little sweaty and holding onto her cane so hard her knuckles have gone white.

Impulse kicks in.

Razlo places his hand over Elendira's, cupping her hand against the cane.

“Razlo?” she says warily, eyes flowing from where Razlo is touching her hand and up his arm to stare at his face.

Do it now, you idiot, before you chicken out!

Razlo carefully – oh so very, very carefully – cups Elendira's cheek with his hand and gently – stay gentle!!! – tips up her face and kisses Elendira.

She makes a slight, startled noise. But she brings up her other hand and rolls up slightly on the balls of her feet and cups the back of his neck and kisses Razlo back.

She kisses back!!!!

Razlo might explode! Honestly!!!!

He startles and Elendira startles and both of them come back swinging when the doctor (who Razlo might hate a little now (no he doesn't)) clears his throat and raises his eyebrow. His single blue eye crinkles with amusement, but Razlo flushes and pulls back from Elendira and he bolts.

Kissed the pretty lady – who kissed back!!!!! Razlo's gonna Die Happy, sorry Livio!!! – and now he's gotta go! Got things to do!

If Razlo has to make some things up to do so he can do them and hide until either Livio rises again or his face stops burning, he's gonna do it. Maybe laundry! He can figure out laundry.

Razlo only pauses briefly when Elendira makes an affronted noise at something the doctor says. He's far enough away that they're hard to hear, but he's tuned to her now. Like those flora that follow the suns.

Razlo can’t turn back now, nope. He flushes anew and runs. He's not a coward, he just has a sort of working sense of self preservation and he recognizes that noise Elendira made. He can’t stay because if he stays he's gonna melt and he'll have to explain to Livio why they're dead and it'll be because Razlo thinks Elendira is Too Pretty and he died of exposure.

Like those flora that follow the suns. They'd definitely die of exposure if they weren't in the safety of the Ship's gardens.

Razlo's going to go re-clean Livio's Double Fangs and his Punisher and maybe Elendira's crossbow until he's got his head back on again. It probably won't work. It definitely won't work. But holy hell is he going to pretend it works until he's not beet red anymore.

(Kissed him back! He's gonna die! Of Happy!!!!)

#trigun #trimax #razlo the tri punisher of death #elendira the crimsonnail #livio the double fang #crimsontrip #kissies for razlo agenda #post trimax #elendira lives fics #tbh all my kissies for razlo fics are elendira lives fics #myde writes

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strangerthingssteddiebrainrot · 1 year

Text

This was written for the Steddie Valentine's exchange fic. Many thanks to @be-the-spark-flyboy for organizing the event, and to my Secret Valentine @it-gets-worse-at-night , I hope you enjoy the fic!

Note! It gets a little spicy near the end, so if you wanna skip that then look for the lemon line break!

5 Times Steve Left Eddie Speechless and the 1 Time Eddie Returned the Favour

The Punkification of Steve Harrington

5 - The Haircut

Monday morning were the worst Eddie thought to himself as he grabbed his books from his locker and slammed it shut. He was in a mood today, but it helped him as he could see the newly crowned Billy and his ilk being obnoxious a few lockers down from him, Billy bragging about how he kicked Steve's ass because he suspected the man to be targeting his little sister. Eddie snorted to himself, anyone with eyes could see how much Billy loathed his sister, constantly leaving her behind and correcting everyone who said sister to call her 'step-sister'. But god forbid anyone question the King and his law, so of course all the girls were fawning over his 'selfless nature'. The whole thing made Eddie want to puke, even if he was internally cheering over Steve Harrington getting his comeuppance twice in just as many years.

Just as he was about to take off to class, a sudden silence fell in the hall. Turning back to see what happened, his jaw, along with everyone else's, dropped. There was Steve Harrington, walking into school with a busted face, and all the hair shaved off the sides of his head leaving him with only his signature swoop going down to the nape of his neck. It was a drastic change for Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, and it almost overshadowed his busted face and the angry line of stitches running along his hairline.

He was gratified to see that he wasn't the only one struck speechless, even Harrington's old gang were looking at him in open mouth shock. The only one who didn't seem phased was Hawkins High newest top dog and asshole.

"What's the matter princess, I beat you so bad you had to go and change your whole identity?" Billy taunted.

Stopping, Steve just looked at him with utter disinterest. "No actually, I had to shave it because someone couldn't win a fair fight and had to smash a plate over my head and send me to the hospital to get stitches."

There was a heavy pause at that, and Billy went from looking smug to looking furious.

"What the fuck Billy? You didn't say anything about that!" Surprisingly it was Tommy that spoke, eyes fixed on the stitches that wove around Steve's forehead and temple.

"Oh what? Did King Billy not tell you about how he tried to beat up a 12 year old kid? How his sister was terrified to be near him? How he nearly beat me to death cause I wouldn't let him do it?" Steve challenged, head held high like this was all beneath him.

Shouting in rage, Billy grabbed Steve by the shoulders and pushed him into the lockers. Tommy started to shout something and moved forward, but Carol and another girl held him back.

But Steve didn't look bothered at all. He just leaned in and whispered something to Billy that caused him to jerk back. After a few tense moments and more whispering, Billy released him and stalked off down the hallway.

Pushing himself off the lockers, Steve straightened up his clothing and walked away. He passed by Eddie in the process and their eyes locked for a moment. Steve gave him a quick glance up and down, then he spoke to him.

"Nice vest Munson." And off he went as the bell rang overhead.

Eddie couldn't get a word out.

4 - The Vest

Next time he saw Steve was near graduation, when they were prepping for the celebration that he wasn't going to be a part of. A-fucking-gain! They were bringing out chairs from storage when Eddie almost collided with a chair carrying Steve, Steve's reflexes saving him a painful collision since Eddie was about as athletic as a rock.

"Whoa! Sorry about that. You okay Munson?" Steve asked, turning his body so the chairs were facing away from Eddie, his front on display.

And again, Eddie found himself speechless. Only absentmindedly giving a nod to answer Steve's question, his eyes fixed on the article of clothing Steve was sporting.

It was a jean vest, probably used to be a jacket if the exposed frayed edges from where the arms used to be was any indication. But what really got him was the stitching on one of the front pockets that proclaimed, in slightly sloppy lettering, 'The King is Dead', with a little crown sewn in. The sight of it sent something through Eddie. Sure, everyone noticed the change in Steve ever since he and Billy fought; Steve was much less concerned about his appearance, ditching his polos for plain tees and the occasional graphic, always paired with Levi's, and while he was still pretty charming the school had been all atwitter when one day Steve came in with orbital piercing on both ears. Simple silver hoops, but shocking all the same when they were attached to Steve fucking Harrington. No longer was he a asshole, but he actively ran interference between Billy and his merry band of fuckers and people like Eddie. And whatever Steve had whispered in Billy's ear that day, it seemed to keep him at bay, the rest of their time together passing in glares but no retaliation even when Steve really let his bitchiness out.

Noticing his gaze, Steve ducked his head slightly and gave him a bashful smile. "Yeah, hope you don't mind, I've seen your vest around so I took some inspiration from it. It's not done yet, but what do you think?"

Looking at him expectantly, Eddie couldn't think last the buzzing in his ears. Sure, Steve was attractive, anyone with eyes could see that and Eddie was not immune, but having that gaze focused on him was paralysing. Because in addition to the vest, Steve had kept his hair buzzed on the sides and it showed off the light scar on the side of his head from where the stitches had eventually come out. So seeing the vest paired with the buzzed sides and pierced ears, Eddie could only think of what he'd look like going full metal. Wiith tattoos and a leather jacket and black jeans, and the image was enough to fry his brain, leaving him just staring dumbly at Steve. Who was looking more concerned the longer the silence went on.

Just when Steve opened his mouth, however, they were interrupted by someone calling Steve's name.

"Stevie! Any reason you're taking so long? Where's my delivery?" Carol Perkins sing-songed at Steve.

Out of Steve's old group of friends, surprisingly it was Carol that actually bridged the gap between them and started up a tentative friendship with him again. Not that it keep her from dating Tommy, or bullying other kids, or keeping the Hawkins High elite from being the main group she ran with. But every now and then she'd be seen with Steve, gossiping to him, even tolerating being with Nancy and/or Johnathan who, despite the rumours of cheating on Steve, still kept close to him even when all three of them looked very uncomfortable.

"Sorry Carol, coming!" Hefting the chairs back into his arms, giving Eddie a lovely show of shifting muscle, Steve gave him an apologetic smile and took off.

All the best really, not like Eddie could've gotten a word out anyway.

3 - The Music Comment

Eddie hadn't seen, let alone thought of Steve Harrington ever since he graduated and Eddie didn't. Twice. But he had taken some new freshmen under his wing, good kids all of them, even if Lucas was a part time jock.

So imagine his surprise when a session ran late, the sun in the process of setting, and his offer to give them a drive home was declined. They said their babysitter was coming to get them which eased his concerns, and the others if they way their shoulders relaxed was any indication. Hawkins wasn't as safe as it used to be it seemed, the town having been rocked by the confirmed death of Barbara Holland and the shutdown of Hawkins lab. Good riddance in his opinion, the lab never sat well with him or Wayne, and while he wasn't friends with Barb she had been a nice enough girl, smiling at him when they passed each other in the hall and never joining in the jeering and laughing at his expense.

He was brought out his thoughts when the sound of a car pulling up distracted him, the sound of Wham! coming from its open windows. It was a very distinct BMW and Eddie could feel his eyes widen as none other than Steve Harrington parked and exited the car, Dustin and Lucas going to greet him while Mike hung back and scowled.

And oh dear god it seemed time had been good to him. Now with a helix piercing fitted with a thick hoop gracing one ear, and a nose and eyebrow piercing, Steve stood against the side of his car in a casual lean, his vest once again on his body. He looked good, his hair long on top with the sides still shaved, a dark green Henley underneath, and dark wash Levi's. God he looked good, and it got even better when he pulled out a cigarette and lit up, offering to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Martin. Only Eddie accepted and Steve pulled out a lighter for him to use.

"Can I try Steve?" Lucas asked, gesturing to the cigarette.

"Hell no, none of you little shits should ever smoke. It's too late for me but if you haven't started, then don't. Especially you Lucas, you're an athlete now." Steve said sternly, pointing at each of them threatening.

"God Steve, how do you look like that but are still so lame?" Mike complained, battling Dustin in a game of rock paper scissors for the front seat.

"Hey, shithead, you wanna try explaining to Nancy why you're breath smells like smoke?" Steve shit back, smiling in victory when Mike grumbled but backed off.

"Speaking of which, why the hell are you listening to What! of all things when you've changed your look so dramatically?" Eddie asked, teasing grin on his face.

Steve just shot him an unimpressed look, breathing out smoke. "And white you to be judging someone for their looks? Think just because I look a certain way I should also listen to certain things? Sounds pretty conforming to me."

And Eddie's brain just broke at that, stuttering through different responses but unable to come up with a response that didn't make him sound like one of the elitist dicks that tried to gatekeep communities. After a solid minute of nothing, Eddie just brought his hands together in a prayer like gesture, and pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips, still silent.

"….is he okay?" Steve asked, confusion and concern equal parts present on his face.

"Yeah, don't worry about him." Jeff said, amusement in his voice as he side eyed him. "He's just having a moment. That was a pretty good comeback."

Face lighting up with a smile, Steve stubbed out his cigarette as the kids settled into his car. "Thanks man, I try."

Waving goodbye to them, Steve turned to get into his car showing off the back of his vest. Stitched into the back was a flower like shape, but with what looked like teeth inside the petals. Nails were seen in all around it as well, 'Babysitter' written across the top, and at the bottom 'monster hunter' was written in black marker. To make things worse for Eddie's racing heart, there was a D20 die tattoo'd on the back of his right bicep.

Then the sight disappeared as Steve got into his car, closing the door and starting his car, taking off with the kids waving goodbye from the windows.

The others waved back, but Eddie was still struck dumb, and frozen in place.

"Was that a fucking D&D tattoo?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah I think so." Martin replied.

Eddie just thought to himself, well he didn't get the last word in. But at least this time he managed to speak at all.

2 - The Glasses and Aids

Eddie was ready to pull out his hair. He admired Max's spirit, he really did, but not when it prevented her from accepting help that she really needed. She kept refusing help from everyone, convinced it was some sort of pity which caused her already prickly nature to turn on them. He was pretty sure she would have turned down physiotherapy as well if it hadn't been mandated by doctor, considering she'd broken every fucking limb on her body.

And now she was denying the need for glasses as well! Her fucking eyes nearly exploded, she was lucky to have eyes at all, but god forbid she do anything to help herself because she prescribed it as a weakness!

All of them were trying to be patient with her, some succeeding more than others (Mike and Dustin really needed to learn the art of delicacy), but they were all wearing down and getting sick of having the help they offered thrown back in their faces. Now, for instance, Steve had taken Max to the den (because of course his fucking mansion of a house had a seperate living room and den) closer to the back of house when it seemed like she might used her newly healed arm to chuck a glass at Lucas's head when he suggested she use one of the guest rooms for a nap. Her energy levels weren't back to normal yet, and the physio sessions didn't help. As a result she would often nod off in the middle of hangout sessions, assuming she didn't just head back home to the modest bungalow she and her mother had been given after everything finally wrapped up. She was already in a bad mood because she needed her wheelchair after today's session, and Lucas sent her over the edge. No doubt she was fighting a migraine as well, her squinting and easy acceptance of Steve's offer to move to the back a dead giveaway. They'd all learned to read the signs by now, but the stubborn little shit refused to even look at the glasses that had been prescribed to her. They tried to avoid the TV when she had the energy to come to group hangouts, but she chafed against it, insisting they continue as normal regardless of whether she could see the screen or not. Another slight to her independence it seemed.

Once everyone had a moment to breathe though, Nancy suggested bringing her water and painkillers, an easy peace offering. Eddie volunteered to go, his hide thicker than most given his whole high school experience. So off he went, but as he got closer he could hear Steve and Max talking, and before he could think about Eddie slowed and quieted his steps, listening in.

"....eve! That's the end of it, I won't wear them! I'm not fragile and I won't let anyone treat me like I am!" Came Max's heated voice, thankfully not yelling this time but still higher than normal.

"Max," he heard Steve sigh. "Needing glasses is not a weakness. You have scars, because you helped save the fucking world. There is nothing weak about that. Your eyeballs almost burst in your skull and there is nothing more badass than that. But now those scars are causing you issues that you need help for, and there is nothing weak about that. If anything, it's badass, it's metal, it's bitchin, cause those scars are proof that you lived, you won and Vecna is dead and in the dirt because of it. So please, please, just be open about the glasses. There's no shame in that."

Eddie waited for Max's response, but it seemed the conversation was over as Steve just let out another big sigh.

Backing up a bit, Eddie made sure his footsteps were loud as he pretended to just be coming down the hallway, presenting the water and pills with a flourish, not phased when neither of them smiled. Mostly he was just grateful Max took the pills.

—-------------------

It wasn't two days later that they all gathered together at Steve's house again. Eddie had a small one shot planned for the kids, it would be Jane's first time playing and everyone wanted to come to support her. While Eddie and everyone set up, Steve had gone to get Max. She didn't have any physio today thankfully, but she still had regular doctor's appointments to make sure everything was healing properly.

The front door opened and Max walked in with her cane, and they stared as they realized that, miracle of miracles, she was wearing her glasses! The square lenses suited her face and the fiery red frame added to their personality, and complemented her face, making her look just a little softer around the edges, more the young girl she should be and less the harrowed shell of herself.

She did however look a bit dazed, and as she settle into a chair, she looked around and asked. "Did anyone know about this?"

A quick glance around showed everyone looking just as confused as Eddie felt.

Dustin was opening his mouth, presumably to ask her to clarify, but just then Steve made his way inside with his arms full of bags from his trip to the grocery store. And perched on his face was the cutest pair of oval lenses perched on his nose, a pair of wire rimmed glasses that even with his punk look, made him look so fucking cute!

There was silence for a moment, then the table exposed as all the younger kids crowded Steve throwing questions at him. Rolling his eyes at them, Steve turned to head into the kitchen, the motion showing off the hearing aid attached to him. That of course prompted another barrage of questions, nevermind the fact that Steve hadn't even addressed the first wave. Thankfully the noise followed Steve as he took the groceries to unpack them, Steve promising to answer the questions if everyone chipped in and out the food away, Johnathan and Nancy following, no doubt curious as well.

"It started with Johnathan we think, it wasn't his first concussion but it did kind of set the tone." Eddie jumped when Robin's voice came from beside him. She smiled sadly at him before continuing. "He had gotten a concussion from basketball a few years before, in middle school, but Johnathan really beat his ass in '83. Then, well, you saw what Billy did to him." Eddie nodded. "Then, the evil Russians. We told you about that, right?" Eddie nodded again.

When he was recovering in the hospital, they filled him and Wayne in on everything, including what really happened at Starcourt. How they were tortured and injected with unknown drugs in a secret underground Russian lab. It was horrifying, but he felt worse for Steve who had taken the brunt of the physical torture.

"He started getting headaches after that, bad ones. Migraines really. The doctors said it was all the damage from the concussions. They recommend the glasses, and then the hearing aids when the ringing in his ears never went away. It got worse again after…everything. He should be wearing them all the time, but you know Steve." Smiling sadly, tears in her eyes, Robin finished.

Eddie pulled her into a hug, both of feeling for the man who put himself through so much harm for the safety of others.

—--------------------

Steve started wearing his glasses and aids more often after that. Not every day, but whenever he didn't Max would refuse to wear hers as well. So they both started getting better about it, bullying each other by refusing to wear their glasses if the other wasn't. Everyone could see the change in their health after that, less headaches and less irritation. Everyone was especially guilty that they hadn't noticed how much pain Steve had been in this whole time. But he brushed them off, saying it was his job to worry about them, bit the other way around.

Bad days still happened, days where Max took off the head of whoever tried to offer her help, days where Steve had a furrow between his brows and couldn't stand bright lights. But slowly and surely, they were getting better.

Regardless of how much time passed though, Eddie was always left momentarily speechless whenever he saw Steve in his fucking glasses.

1 - Saying it First

All things considered they really hadn't been together that long, but when you had to fight for life back to back with someone, it tended to speed things along. So really, six months, six years, it didn't really matter.

It wasn't even hard to get to this point. After they'd pulled their heads out of their asses, ie, some meddling from Robin and the kids, they fell into a loving relationship fairly easily. It turns out Steve had a crush on him ever since he struck Eddie dumb with his music comment while picking up the kids from that fateful D&D session. He didn't have the words for he felt back then, not until Robin introduced him to the world of queers when they took a trip to Indianapolis for her to find the local scene.

So he'd already gone through a sexuality crisis by the time spring break rolled around and had come out of it a proud little bisexual. So they'd been crushing on each other the whole time, just too shy and afraid to ask for fear of ruining their newfound friendship (and rejection, of course).

Steve had warned him of course, that he was intense, that he didn't do things half assed when to came.to the people he cared about. But for Eddie, who's closest brush with 'a relationship', was handys in a back alley with the same guy three weeks in a row in a bar in Indianapolis, the outpouring of affection was like a balm on his soul that he didn't know he needed. Steve wasn't afraid to use pet names, to place an arm around him and cuddle close, to kiss him as soon as they were in a place they could do so, even if the kids gave them heck for being disgusting.

So I really shouldn't have been a surprise when one night at Steve's house, during a heated make out session, movie forgotten in the background, Steve pulled back and stared into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered, like he was hoping the words would get lost in the darkness.

Eddie couldn't speak, again! The words just got lodged in his throat, and he could feel himself start to tear up. So he just, nodded instead. Hiding his face in Steve's neck and curling around him, arms coming up to hold him close and he cried and nodded, trying to return the words but making noise instead.

"I know babe, I know, I hear you. Hold on Eddie, Eds, that can't be comfortable." Pulling back from Eddie just enough, Steve pulled off his vest and Eddie could bury his face into the soft shirt underneath.

Eddie hadn't even realised he'd been pressing his face into the Wizard of Oz patch he'd recently sewn onto one of the lapels. Steve reached up and gently caressed the indented skin, kissing the area before pulling back in to cuddle close, tipping them into their sides so they were laying on the couch. They spent the rest of the night like that, wrapped around each other with Steve whispering how much he loved him in between sweet kisses.

Eddie was once again left speechless, but this time for the best of reasons.

+1 - In Bed

Falling into bed together after enjoying a nice homemade dinner, they were eagerly stripping each other's clothes off. It was their first Valentine's day together since they became a couple, and they spent it doing some corny things together in the new Munson trailer. Wayne had taken an overtime shift that day with a very pointed comment about being safe that Eddie did not appreciate and caused Steve to turn red as a tomato. But at the same time Eddie couldn't not appreciate it. After all, it was Valentine's Day, and while they couldn't spend it out and about like other couples, he still planned to leave Steve speechless with some good sex.

Fully naked now, Eddie laid Steve out in bed, pressing him into his new, clean, mattress, telling him without words that he was in charge tonight. Which seemed just fine to Steve, he laid back and raised his arms above his head, displaying himself for his lover.

Groaning at the visual, Eddie made his way down Steve's body, licking and nibbling his way down, paying special attention to his nipples as it turned out they were quite sensitive. He stopped every now and then, sucking hickeys into the skin, prolonging the journey to build the tension up, even as Steve squirmed and tried to push Eddie down with hands in his hair. But Eddie was not to be rushed. You see, while they'd gotten to know each other's bodies very well the past few weeks, knew exactly how to make the other cum screaming, a bit of careful probing (heh), revealed that for all of Steve's extensive knowledge and experience with women, there was a certain act that Steve had never even heard of before.

So of course Valentine's Day, lovers day, was the perfect time to introduce Steve to a favourite activity of his.

Close now to his destination, Steve spread his legs, no doubt anticipating a mouth around him, but Eddie's goal was just a little lower.

"Eddie?" Steve asked, confused when Eddie bypassed his usual stop and went for his thighs instead.

Eddie had a plan though, so he ignored Steve for now. For once, he was going to leave Steve speechless!

With determination in his veins, Eddie hitched up Steve's thighs to rest on his shoulders and got to work.

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Later on, cleaned up and in bed, Steve already asleep and Eddie on his way there, Eddie reflected on his work.

He didn't quite get Steve speechless, but he decided that incoherent was just as good.

+Extra - Chocolate

Waking up alone had Steve shooting up in panic as he thought Eddie had left him, that he was too much and Eddie finally had enough of him. But as he forced himself to calm down, he realised that he could hear banging around in the trailer which could only be Eddie, and that's what had woken him up. He heard Eddie's muffled voice as he spoke with Wayne, no doubt getting some breakfast since a quick glance at the clock showed that it was early morning when he would be coming home from work. Relaxing, Steve sunk back into the bed, rolling onto his front and gathering the pillow into his arms so he could bury his nose into the softness, inhaling Eddie's scent of weed, spice and the faintest hint of tobacco from the rare cigarette he still indulged in, even despite Robin's glares and lectures.

The only question was where had he gone. Steve had been looking forward to waking up slowly, savouring the feeling of being held warm and safe in Eddie's arms.

Soon enough Eddie was stomping his way back to him (the man could not move quietly), but Steve appreciated the attempt Eddie made to open the door quietly and sneak back inside. Only to immediately jump and yelp when he met Steve's eyes from where Steve lay on his front in bed, blearily looking at him from the pillow.

"Hey princess, was hoping you'd still be asleep before I got back." Eddie said, dropping a bag onto his nightstand and removing all his clothes besides his boxers, climbing into bed and gathering Steve close.

"Mmm, I was, but it's kinda hard to miss you stomping around like an elephant." Steve teased, pushing Eddie back so they could lay chest to chest, propping his head up with a hand so he could look at Eddie.

"Fuck off Stevie." Eddie said with no heat, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Humming in pleasure, Steve asked. "Where'd you go anyway? It's early."

"Welllll, the best part about the capitalistic hell that is the hallmarks way of extorting the people of their money by manipulating them with 'love' and shaming people not in relationships," Eddie went off, making air quotes with his fingers when he said love, smiling at Steve's blank, unamused face. "Is the day after when they have to clear out their stock of cards and chocolate by putting it all at half price." Eddie finished, grabbing the bag he set down earlier and emptying it at their sides, Valentine's Day cards and a wide variety of chocolate spilling out.

"I was thinking of saving the cards for next year, never to early to get a head start after all, and I don't know what kind of chocolate you like so I got a fewwwww, why are you crying!?!!" Eddie nearly shouted, his eyes widening and panicking as he struggled to sit up with Steve still pressed against him and refusing to let go.

Laughing through the tears making their way down his face, Steve pressed his weight down, keeping them laying on the bed.

"I'm alright Eddie, really." Steve said, ignoring Eddie's skeptical look since his tears wouldn't stop. "I'm just happy. No one has ever gotten me chocolates before. Or at least, not since elementary school."

"What? No one?" Eddie looked shocked at this, squeezing Steve to himself and placing kisses in his hair.

"Yeah… I mean, I'm the guy right? Usually I was the one buying chocolate, or flowers and cards. Assuming I was even in a relationship at this time of year."

"That's bullshit. It takes two to make a couple doesn't it? They're weren't treating you right Stevie"

Huffing out a wet laugh, Steve rested his chin on Eddie's chest and looked up at him adoringly. "How about this then? From now on we both get each other chocolate or flowers or cards for Valentine's Day."

Struck dumb that Steve assumed a future where they'd be together, for a while it seemed like, Eddie couldn't even be annoyed that Steve Harrington had, once again, left him speechless.

But even as he thought it, he watched as Steve opened his mouth only for nothing to come out. Instead he giggled, settling down against him and cuddling in close.

So it seemed they both left each without words this time.

Eddie could live with that.

Based off of my favorite punk!Steve artwork!

https://at.tumblr.com/fairysteve/703217386757734400/3e0hndymns4p

This will also be posted to my ao3, link will be in the comments!

#steddievalentinesficexchange #@it-gets-worse-at-night #@be-the-spark-flyboy #steddie valentines fic exchange

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munano-theprophet · 2 years

Text

Double Trouble Yandere!Austin!Elvis and Jesse x Reader Part 2

Summary: Mayhem reigns over the International Hotel as it is the day the Presleys will perform. As changes occur and bonds are formed, secrets threaten to come out.

Warnings: dark content, mentions of misogyny, demonstrations of sexual assault

If you are under 18, do not interact!

Part 1 Part 3

__________________________________________

Your alarm clock was beeping obnoxiously. It was 6 AM and it was time for you to get ready for work. Without opening your eyes, you felt around for your alarm clock and snapped it off. You slowly opened your eyes, and the sun was barely poking through the clouds yet.

As you passed Ada’s room, you saw her sound asleep on her bed, her hair was all over the place and she was snoring softly. She had the day off and you could see she was taking full advantage of it. You smiled, you both worked so hard, it was nice seeing her relax for once. You hopped in the shower, humming to the tune Hound Dog. You stepped out and quickly dried and moisturized yourself. You checked the time and it was 6:15, you had 30 minutes left before the bus came, so you decided to make a cup of coffee and mentally prepare for the day.

Opening the fridge, you saw that there were no eggs, no milk…no nothing. You scoffed, ‘It was definitely Ada’s turn last’, you thought to yourself. You rolled your eyes and drank from the last remaining bits of orange juice left in its carton. Ada came in, yawning, looking like she just got struck by lightning the way her hair stuck up. She opened the fridge and had the same reaction as you, scoffing. “Hell don’t look at me, it was your turn this time,” you said smiling. She rolled her eyes, “Now you know I have the memory of a fish goddamnit, why didn’t you--yawn--remind me?” She said. “Because I was wondering when this fish was gonna grow up and take some responsibility. But now that it’s your day off, you have more than enough time to get the stuff.” She pouted like a five-year-old. You ruffled her hair upon heading out, “Bye Ladybug,” you said, she sighed, “Bye Butterfly”. You finished the drink in a final swig and dropped it in the waste bin, “Oh yeah, we’re gonna need more juice”.

______________________________________________________________________________

Tonight was their first performance, and since this was a major one, you’d be put in a new assignment for the rest of the 6 weeks that they’d be staying.

“You want me to WHAT?!” you screeched to your manager. He had pulled you into one of the empty dressing rooms, telling you that your new temporary assignment would be on drink server duty. “We’re short-staffed in that area today, everyone’s been calling off and I know it’s to try and see the show tonight.” You huffed, “Can’t I just clean? Or can’t you have one of the boys do it, you know how the people treat the help up there.” you reasoned. You weren’t wrong, you heard the stories from some current employees and some former ones; the groping, the grabbing, it was all just too much.

You remembered a time when you first started, and when you almost volunteered to be a drink server. “Reporting it to HR never does anything,” said one of your coworkers. “You really think they’re gonna take a politician or rich businessman to court over your discomfort? Once you and the next guy match each other’s goodies in the groin area, maybe then they’ll give a fuck. It’ll be a cold day in hell before they stick up for us.” she shivered after taking a long drag of her cigarette.

You blinked the memory away. “It’s either that y/n or I dock your pay for the next 6 weeks.” that caught your attention quickly. You looked up at him, “Wait…I’ll do it then.” you whispered that last part., your manager held up a sinister grin. He slowly moved towards you, like a predator stalking his prey, “I just don’t know how you do it, you’re getting shit pay and you haven’t even tried to convince me to give you a raise.” he stroked a hair out of your face. You tried jerking your head back but he wrapped a hand around your neck and arm, making you whimper. He leaned down closer to you, “Maybe you just need a bit of…motivation…” he leaned in closer and closer, but before his lips could collide with your own, your manager’s name was called.

He muttered something under his breath before walking towards the (to your new knowledge, locked) door. For tonight, be at the bar by 6:45 sharp. You’ll be on drink server duty.” You let go of a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Not only did you feel disrespected, but you felt disgusted. Your manager had been sexually assaulting you for weeks now, you were able to evade his advances but it’s been getting harder and he’s gotten more…physical. You ried shaking it off, trying not to let the words of your mother get to you.

‘I just don’t understand why you can’t just meet a nice man and settle down.’ She would fuss about your dreams of going to college as well as leaving Chicago. ‘How would you have the time to cook for your husband if you’re out studying? Medical School is not easy, nor is it short. With the years it takes you to graduate you may never get married in time!’

Before you had left Chicago, she tried to persuade you and (sometimes Ada) to stay back, she would show you job postings in the newspapers looking for secretaries and personal assistants and nurses.

Had you made a mistake? Was she right? You didn’t even know anymore. Every time you took two steps forward into following your dream, the universe pushed you 5 steps backward. When you would try to travel for casting calls, the bus wouldn’t come in time or you were always short on cash. You huffed, gathering your thoughts, ‘There’s only one way and that’s up from here, patience is the key to all opportunity’. Those were the words your uncle always said to you, bless his heart he was watching over you and protecting you from above right now.

______________________________________________________________________________

The hotel/casino area and the showroom/backstage area seemed to be polar opposites during certain times of the day. In the morning, the showroom/backstage area was fine, this made your job relatively easy. When it was close to showtime, though, that’s when it was an utter nightmare. Everyone runs around with their heads cut off and managers are in a pissy mood, watching everyone like a hawk to make sure they don’t fuck up. Hotels in the morning, though, were 10 times worse during the day. Especially with the Presley’s arrival, people from all 4 corners of the country were traveling to come and see them. When you went to the hotel area, the lobby was filled with tourists, people with obnoxiously overpacked bags, lots of chatter…and worst of all: crying children.

You sighed to yourself, “This is going to be a long day.”

______________________________________________________________________________

“We need you up in room service, there's a uniform and lock for ya right there. Bathroom’s round the corner and the lock has the locker number on it. The lock’s code is 11-0-8, I’ll wait for ya right here but I will say get a move on with it.” You nodded your head, took the items, and changed quickly. You examined yourself in the nearby mirror, the ‘uniform’ was a very short black dress with an apron. You stuffed your showroom uniform in the locker and made it back to the assistant manager. He guided you to a room next to the kitchen and gave you a mini crash course on what to do before leaving.

The kitchen pulled out food and handed it to you on a rolling tray. Attached to the lid was the room number along with what they ordered. Room 955, it read. You rolled the tray to the lift and pressed the up button, as you stepped in, you looked for the 900 button and clicked it. Inside during the lift up, your heard Elvis and Jessie singing in the background through the elevator speaker connected to the radio. You rolled all the way to the right side, looking for the room. When you found it, you knocked three times, hearing voices in the background. You waited patiently until the thought suddenly hit you like a truck:

You were at the top floor…

…you were in the suites…

…the EXECUTIVE SUITES…

The most expensive rooms were upstairs, which means you had a good chance of seeing--

“Hey y’all, room service is here!” One of the members of the Memphis Mafia said. He had dark brown hair and he wore shades.

Like you said, it was a possibility they’d be in this room, not a certainty.

______________________________________________________________________________

The room was surprisingly dim, all of the curtains were closed shut and peaks of sunlight came through, illuminating the room in different areas.

You wheeled the rolling tray in, getting a better view of your surroundings. You saw a ring, dancing in the small speckles of sunlight, but their back was facing you. “Hey JP you want some food?” The man sitting down faced your direction, and even though there was little to no light shining in the room, you could have sworn that his face brightened up. “Y/n!” He got up quickly, rushing to the table. “Hello Mr. Presley,” you said shyly scratching the back of your neck. You honestly weren’t expecting him to remember your name. “JP! Is that food up here yet?” Elvis yelled from the bathroom, “Yeah! Come quick before I eat yours!” seconds later, Elvis ran out with his towel barely around his waist and a comb. “Don’t touch my food goddamnit,” he said with a smirk on his face. The whole room erupted in laughter and you tried to look every where but at Elvis.

He was still dripping from head to toe, and with his towel loosely wrapped on his waist. His eyes finally landed on you and he swallowed hard, “Y/n…” he mumbled, he looked down at his towel and then scrambled, “Oh shit, y/n!” he said and ran to his closet. You remembered you were still wearing the short dress and apron. He came back in a robe and you greeted him, “Hello Mr. Presley. I brought you guys your room service.”.

They both laughed, “You don’t have to call me that,” they said at the same time.

You giggle a little at their twin moment.

Unbeknownst to you, your giggle could light a fire in their hearts.

“I didn’t know you worked room service as well,” Elvis started, “bet you’d give me diabetes from bein the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen”. He said, winking. You were flattered by his words, “Oh stop it, you must say that to all the pretty girls,” you shook your head. “Not as pretty as you.” Jessie stated with pure sincerity. You smiled at them, they were really nice, “Thank you. I should get going, I have more food to deliver.”.

“W-wait,” Elvis said as you were heading out, “this mean you’re not gonna be working the showroom tonight?” He asked with big puppy eyes. You shook you’re head, “I still am, they just switched me to room service for a few hours. I’ll be serving drinks tonight and cleaning the dressing rooms.”. He nodded his head and sighed, “Okay, you get to see my cool new dance moves!” Elvis exclaimed. You giggled, “I can’t wait to see it! I’ll see you tonight.” and with that, you headed out the door with your tray.

On your way down the stairs, the hotel manager approached you, “By the request of the Presleys, you’ll be their personal help.” you scrunched your nose, “Wait, why?” he shrugged, “They said you had good customer services skills and won’t take anybody else.” you just hummed in response. He was scribbling away on his clipboard, “That means no mistakes coming from you young lady, I expect their food to be received in a timely matter,” he pointed to a red telephone, “if that phone rings, only you or myself can pick it up.” You nodded and he continued to walk away.

The phone rang after a few minutes and you waited a bit before picking up, “International Hotel, how may I help you?” “Y/n,” you heard one of the Presleys, “Could you please bring us some water? We need about 7.”

“No problem, I’ll be right up there,”

“Thank you.”. You hung up the phone and headed to the kitchen to get the water.

You made your way back up, humming some tune. You knocked on the door and Elvis opened it, he flashed a picture-perfect smile that made all of the girls swoon, and took the bottles from you. “You saved my life, y/n,” he said breathlessly, you smiled, “Aww Elvis you’re so nice.”

The way you said his name made him feel like he died and came back to life just by the sound of your voice. Your voice as smooth as silk put him in a state of blissful pleasure.

“I heard you told the manager that you wanted me as y’all personal help today?”

He scratched the back of his head, “Guilty as charged. It just eliminates all of the starstruck fans from coming up in here.”. You nodded, ‘Well I guess that makes sense’, you thought to yourself. He leaned to the side, “Well since you’re ours, might as well come inside. You can meet the notorious Memphis Mafia when they come back upstairs.” He put his hand on the small of your back and led you inside the dim lit room.

“This is cousin Billy.” A younger looking boy looked up from his book and smiled at you, you waved back with a smile. “And this is Jerry,” the man that you saw in the alleyway last night looked up at you from a newspaper with the Presleys on the front. He nodded your way, “Pleasure to meet you. You always hiding out in alleyways?”

You froze, so he did notice you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to intrude, I was just trying to take my break—” “Lay off Jerry,” Elvis glared, he looked your way and his gaze softened, “Give him some time he doesn’t trust new people.”

You nodded your head. When Jesse entered the room, he stood up and smiled at you. “You’re back,” he exhaled, pulling you in for a hug.

‘They’re really friendly’, you thought to yourself, his expensive cologne smelt like a mixture of expensive taste and firewood. “Now don’t just hog her to yourself now,” Elvis said, dragging you back to him. Pain shot through your arm, “Ow,” you quietly winced. You remembered how your boss had grabbed you this morning, you knew his grip was tight but you didn’t think it would bruise so quick.

Elvis froze,

“Did I hurt you, y/n? I didn’t mean to.” Jessie held your arm and looked at Elvis. “It’s fine, really. I hit the door last night before clocking in.” You stammered. Watching them communicate without words, Elvis went to the wall and flicked on the light. Instinctively, you covered your arm. No one knew what your manager did to you, not even Ada, there were enough things for her to worry about. The light turned on and you shut your eyes, adjusting to the light. After opening your eyes, everyone else was on you, even Cousin Billy and Jerry. You looked at Elvis and he looked like he had witnessed his mother get slapped, to say he looked pissed was an understatement, Jesse’s face matched his own ( oh wow how ironic).

“Y/n,” Elvis breathed shakily, “Who…did this to you?” Jesse finished off. You looked down, and you wondered how they saw the arm bruise, until you remembered…

…your neck.

“I fell…” you didn’t know what else to say. Elvis’ eyes darkened, “Don’t lie to me y/n…what happened?” He was demanding it now. Elvis’s body burned with ferocity, if looks could kill you’d be 6 feet under. You started shaking, “We don’t like asking again, y/n.” Jesse said sternly, you let out a shaky breath. You dropped your arm and you could hear them gasp. You looked down, ashamed, “M-my manager would…touch me a-and try to do things with me. He’s been getting more physical and it happened again this morning.”.

A tear escaped your eye, and then another one, and another one. You were a bit embarrassed, you didn’t really like letting people see you cry. Jessie embraced you, and you leaned into his frame as he consoled you. Elvis began paving around, breathing heavy, “We’ll fix this,” Jesse said, “y/n, what’s your manager’s name?” “Michael Sherwin.” Elvis turned to Jerry, “Jerry, you know what to do.”

If you weren’t being hugged by Jesse, you would have seen the sinister grin the twins gave each other.

____________________________

Jerry had stepped out of the room to go God knows where, doing God knows what.You scrunched your nose in confusion,”Why did you need my manager’s name?” Jesse stared at you in adoration, bopping your nose, “Don't you worry your pretty little head about that.”

In the meantime, the Memphis Mafia members were back and you got to meet all of them. After about an hour or so, they brought you out of your comfort zone and you all were joking around like you all have been friends for years. After about an hour or so, Jerry came back, even he let loose and you actually got to know him, he’s not so bad. You were enjoying yourself, until you covered your mouth to yawn. It didn’t go unnoticed, “Do you need to rest?” Elvis whispered, you nodded tiredly.

The rest of the time, they let you rest, which was much needed. Since you were in Jesse’s room, he let you lay on his bed, but not before a 10 minute argument between the two occurred on whose bed was better for you to rest in. While you got comfortable, a man dressed as a doctor came in, giving the boys their meds. You heard mumbles of how tired somebody was and someone just wanting a break, but you couldn’t concentrate. As soon as your bed hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

Tags: @venus-haze

#baz lurhman elvis #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere elvis #elvis x reader #elvis movie #austin!elvis x reader #yandere

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jackiebrackettt · 1 year

Text

BITB Lab AU Fic (1.3k words)

[this is going to be a tumblr special since i don't plan on doing more with it but i did want to share it anyway! if you like the concept feel free to ask me for more info ^_^ i have alot of backstory surrounding this in mind. alsoo if you would like to write something inspired by it pls reference me/this fic and also tag me! i'd love to see it :] anyway reblogs appreciated as always - fic time]

Rand’s starting to think that no job might be better than a job if the job is this one. Because this job has made him sign several NDAs and has run him through a ridiculous amount of “worst case scenarios” - all increasingly absurd.

He needs a job, though. Or his parents are going to do something drastic like kick him out for a week. And this is the only place that’ll accept him with absolutely nothing on his resume at thirty three years old.

“Basically… just don’t be like the last intern, okay?” The scientist in front of him says as they finish up their spiel.

“What happened to the last intern?”

“Got too close and now he has to stay here while we monitor his situation.”

“Oh.”

Maybe no job is better than this one.

He signs the last NDA anyway.

His job is essentially to keep an eye on a trio of… aliens? Monsters? One of whom is the intern before him - and contact the scientists and doctors if anything weird happens.

He’s also there to keep them company, get them things they want - as long as he runs it past a scientist first - and give them shit like food and water. Easy. He could probably even sneak some weed in and pass the time smoking.

“Just stay here by the entrance.” The scientist instructs. “I’m going to go check on Rolan real quick.”

They dip into a side door at the end of the hallway and disappear.

Rand is totally content to not fuck up the first instruction he’s been given. At least until he spots someone staring at him from the window in the first door on the right.

He’s got long blonde hair, and a pretty face. Kian Stone.

“‘Sup, dude!” Kian’s voice is muffled. “You must be the new intern!”

After a moment of hesitation, Rand wanders closer.

“Yeah.”

Kian sticks his hand out for a handshake, the tips of his fingers pressing against the glass. Rand isn’t sure how he’s expected to respond.

“I was the last one.” Kian states cheerily. “Name’s Kian Stone. Nice to meet you, man.”

“Nice to meet you.” Rand echoes. “I’m, uh, Rand.”

The offered handshake turns into a finger pointing at the name tag on his shirt.

“Tim?”

“Call me Rand.”

“Fuck yeah, dude, I can dig that.” Kian drops his hand. “Hey, man, do you think you can swing me a guitar? I’m bored as fuck.”

He remembers the brief. It clearly said that he shouldn’t give this guy any instruments.

“I, uh… don’t think I’m supposed to do that.”

Kian leans in closer to the window and grins wickedly.

“I could make it worth your while.” His voice is low. Rand’s cheeks feel warm.

“Well, uh, considering what they told me about why you’re in here, I think I’ll have to, like, pass. Sorry, man.”

“Becky’s harmless, dude.” Kian scoffs. “They just hate true love.”

Rand just shrugs. He’s not really sure he wants to argue.

“What about… Rolan? That’s the other guy, right?” Kian nods. “What’s he like?”

“Mostly keeps to himself. Real quiet and all that. If you went into his room he’d probably back himself into a corner and freak out about hurting you.” Kian hums, thinking. “That’s what he did with me, at least. Don’t tell the big guys, though. They’re pissed enough at me for the whole Becky thing.”

“Alright, I won’t.” Rand mimes zipping his lips. “Secret’s safe.”

“It’s totally different, though, dude, because, like… Becky is dangerous. Rolan isn’t.”

“Didn’t you say she was harmless earlier?”

“Oh.” Kian blinks. “Did I? Tell that to my mostly melted body over there, dude.”

Kian jerks a thumb behind him. Rand angles to look and immediately wishes he didn’t. He feels sick.

“Fuck, man!”

Kian laughs. “Shoulda warned you that it’s kinda gnarly, huh?”

Technically, Rand knew that’s what happened to Kian. But reading about it on paper is nothing compared to seeing it in person.

“They just fucking left that there?“

“It’s mine.”

“I mean… I guess, but… you just want it around?” He takes another cautious look at the mess of flesh in the corner of the room. Another wave of nausea rolls through him. “Isn’t it, like… weird?”

“It’s mine.” Kian repeats. Then he shrugs. “Plus, it’s kinda fun. If I touch it I can feel it both ways.” He waggles his eyebrows, and that grin from earlier is back. “Neat, right?”

“Gross.” Rand grimaces. “Too much information, man.”

“I’m just messing with you, dude.” Kian laughs. “It hurts like a bitch, actually. I try not to feel it.”

“Tim!”

The scientist is walking back down the hallway towards him. They don’t seem upset that he disobeyed his first instruction. Maybe that one was more of a suggestion.

He looks back to Kian’s eyes fixated on his name badge.

“You could just tell them you prefer to be called Rand, you know?” Kian says.

“I’ll do it later.”

He’s not sure why he hasn’t yet. Something about professionalism. But there’s no time to think through that train of thought now.

The scientist stops next to him. Looks at Kian through the glass and sighs.

“Kian.”

“They’re still pretty mad at me.” Kian explains to Rand with an unbothered smile on his face. Then he shifts to address the scientist. “So, no guitar?”

“Not yet.” Another sigh. “Later, hopefully.”

“Radical.” Kian presses a book up to the window. “This shit sucks. I’m not a fucking nerd, dude.”

The scientist rolls their eyes. “Graduated practically top of your classes.”

Top of his classes? Shit. They really downgraded with Rand.

Kian pouts. “Hey, man, don’t say that kinda stuff around the new guy, yeah?”

“Well,” the scientist claps Rand on the shoulder and ushers him away, “you’ve met Kian. Let’s meet the other two.“

“See ya later, dude.”

Kian holds one hand up in a wave and Rand clumsily waves back, mumbling out his own goodbye.

Kian’s whole… attitude has thrown him off completely. He figured the other two would be chill - not the guy who literally died about a week back.

A couple of rooms down is Becky’s. Rand wonders why they’re so spread out.

She approaches the window when they knock. Her gaze flicks over them with hope before settling into disappointment.

“Hey, Becky.” The scientist gestures to Rand. “I want you to meet Tim - the new intern.”

Rand waves. She doesn’t even look at him.

“Is Kian okay?” Her voice is soft. “I really didn’t mean to kill him, man.”

“He’s doing better.”

This conversation is fucking absurd. What a world Rand lives in now.

“Well, you know how this works - let Tim know if you need anything. We’ll go meet Rolan, now.“

“Sure.” Her eyes catch on his. She looks sad. “Nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

Meeting Rolan goes worse than meeting Becky.

Rolan’s tucked away in a corner, looking like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. If Rand thought Kian was lying about Rolan, he’d cast all doubts from his mind now. Rolan doesn’t even look up when the scientist knocks on the door.

“He’s been in a mood ever since the incident with Kian.” The scientist explains. “Hey, Rolan! New guy’s name is Tim.”

Rolan just barely lifts a hand in acknowledgment.

“Now, don’t be surprised if you see them out of their rooms. I don’t know if you saw, but there’s a door at the back that leads to other rooms. We’re keeping Kian away from them at the moment to monitor his situation, but it all links up back there.”

“Okay.”

“There’s testing most days, but for the most part they just do whatever. And you can, too, as long as you fulfil the job requirements.”

“Sounds good, man.” Oh, yeah, he could definitely smuggle some weed in here. And maybe he’ll try and rope them all into a game of dnd. He’s not exactly sure how it’ll work when they’re so spread out, but he’ll think of something.

#brackett.writes.

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lunettes-a-ninny · 1 year

Text

TW: mention of javert's suicide

follow up on me being sad about unrecognized les misérables music!!

i think a few people know about the song called javert by red diamond dragon club - but did you know there are MULTIPLE amazing songs called javert?!?!

before i start, i would like to state that these are all my interpretations of the songs, and the writers have not confirmed everything i say!!

1. javert - red diamond dragon club

this song is probably the most popular one among the fandom, but it's still unrecognized.

this song is almost an alternate version of javert's suicide. it is an indie(?) rock version that shows us javert's anger over being released through lines such as:

"valjean, what have you done to me?"

"did you know what you did when you set me free?"

"and you won't leave, trapped inside my mind. mon dieu, this devil is shaking the ground."

"won't you tell me why i'm not okay?"

"you make the night not follow day"

"and who am i? looking down, i see your face, the water rising up"

this song is not only catchy, but it is a good display of javert going through the five stages of grief, including anger.

2. javert - penny and sparrow

this is a short, pretty folk song about javert. while there are romantic undertones in this song, i interpret this as javert's internal feelings and that he isn't speaking of a specific person.

he could very well be, with lines such as, "when you hold me, it's knee jerk," but i would like to think this is just how javert feels trying to interact with people in general sometimes.

"i can feel the beginnings of arguments to often start off that way"

"well fuck how i feel, it's a bad gauge of realness"

"how can it be, is their room in your home for a man that feels to prone to fall through?"

"can you honestly expect me to confess that ... or i'm worth the work it takes?"

3. javert - deadman

this song is by far my favourite on this list, being number one on my spotify wrapped this year, so this will be a longer section of this post.

i'm not actually sure how to define the genre of this song. it could very well be a folk song or a country song.

this song is confirmed to be written about someone talking to the ghost of javert after he has committed suicide. it is a song that switches between both english and french (depending on the performance), and it is a truly beautiful piece of music through both lyrics, performance and instrumentals.

it is FILLED with references to javert's life, including christianity, water, blood, wine, as well as many metaphors about these things as well.

my favourite reference in the song is the one made about javert's actual death (keep in mind these lyrics vary in different performances):

put your gun on the floor

i'll pour you some wine

i am willing, but my spirit is not

this verse alone is simply amazing. the lyrics to this song are so well thought out and beautifully performed, and i really suggest listening to this song. and while javert didn't die to a gun, you can still understand what they're referencing. this could even be a previous attempt, before the seine.

the song is also a little mysterious, with this verse:

we used to be friends

when you used your old name

back when you worked for the law

they could honestly be talking about anything in this verse, and i like that it's up for interpretation.

the chorus is also incredibly well written with it's references to javert drowning:

and if ye strike the rock

then the water comes forth

water that used to be blood

formerly blood

and becomes blood again

and unstopped, rises to flood

however, suddenly at the last chorus, they change the word "blood" to "wine".

there are a few more songs titled "javert", however, i am unsure if they are actually about the les misérables javert or not, so i will not be including them.

anyway, go give these songs a listen if you haven't already! if you know any more songs about javert, please let me know! i recall hearing about one a long time ago, but it wasn't called "javert," so i can not find it.

#les mis #les miserables #les miserables thoughts #analysis #character analysis #les misérables #javert #inspector javert

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masterjedilenawrites · 1 year

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Heyy bestie uhm I'm gonna need another part of angst especially after the cheating Ex (seriously tho what a jerk) like how would the clones and batch be like in a new relationship would they be more cautious? Skeptical of there new s/o words and assume they are lying until yhey get proof? Like would they be worried to give there heart to a new person/ s\o not sure whether to trust them or not and if there being honest

Oh boy... more angst eh? I made references to their past relationships a little more vague, so it could fit in with those cheating HCs or you could imagine different reasons as to how their hearts got broken before they put themselves out there again...

Kix, Jesse, and Hunter are calm, cool, and collected... on the outside. Inside, they are stressed the heck out when they start going on dates again. Don't get them wrong, they do very much want to try again. They believe in soulmates and can't wait to find theirs. But there is definitely a lot of internal monologuing. They question everything, including their own feelings... Is that a red flag? Am I comparing them too much to my ex? They don't share any of their insecurities until the new relationship is stable.

Dogma, Tech, and Crosshair would be more adverse to starting a new relationship after having their heart broken. It would take a long, long time for them to be interested in someone new. For them, it's not about trust so much as investment. To commit to the time it takes to get to know someone, the energy it takes to build emotional connections, is very daunting, and they now have firsthand experience that it doesn't always work out. It would take someone truly special for them to risk giving love a second chance.

Fox, Hardcase, and Echo hide the scars on their heart very well. For the most part. By the time they meet someone new they're wanting to pursue, they'll have made peace with a lot of their past and will give the new relationship an honest chance, letting things unfold in their own way and not comparing or worrying about repeating history. But every once in a while, something will happen that'll trigger old wounds quite unexpectedly. They'll be moody and even fearful and they won't know why until someone helps them connect the dots.

Cody, Wolffe, and Tup are cautious. They go on a few dates here and there, acting polite and having an okay time. But they never commit, never take things further. They're not sure why. What are they waiting for? What do they even want in a partner now? They sort of go through the motions without feeling much. It would take someone becoming their friend first to break through whatever apathy they had, and then they'll have a real chance at creating a solid, meaningful, romantic relationship that actually makes them feel good.

Rex, Fives, and Wrecker are total messes. Someone please keep an eye on these poor boys if they choose to re-enter the dating pool again, they'll need all the support they can get so they don't a) emotionally fall apart and/or b) end up in another unhealthy arrangement. Either or both scenarios are likely. Any potential new partners need to be patient and understanding. They'll share their tragic romantic history on the first date and be open throughout the relationship in how they feel about everything, for better or worse.

Everything Tag List: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp

+Bad Batch Tag: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @bowtiesandsandshoes, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @kaijusplotch, @salaminus, @arctrooper69

(Join my tag list here)

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dragonsholygrail · 2 years

Text

Tomorrow Night

Steve Harrington x Reader

a/n: So I stole a scene from Buffy for part of this fic. Because I really loved how Oz asked Willow out and I needed to use it. It just screamed Steve Harrington to me. It’s my first time watching BTVS and I’m really loving it. It’s also my first time writing for ST so tell me how I did writing Steve!

summary: It’s the day before Robin’s birthday party and after all this time crushing on Steve, he finally asks you out. For tomorrow night. The one day you can’t go. But hey, you’re both invited, maybe you can work something out.

word count: 1.9k

You stand outside Family Video watching Steve Harrington flip the page of his magazine through the glass doors. Inhaling deeply, you attempt to gather your courage. You could talk to Steve. You could totally talk to Steve.

Swinging the door open you take two strides in before slamming your hands on the desk. Steve jumps, head jerking up to look at you. His eyes light up and your heart skips a beat. You try to ignore it.

“Whatcha got for me today, Scoops?” You ask, your words spilling out before you realize what you’re saying. Steve looks around, a small grin on his face.

“Everything. No one comes in here. You know this,” he says as he meets your eye again. He leans forward, pointing a reprimanding finger at you. “And besides, you can’t call me Scoops anymore. You know, on account of the shop burning down,” he adds, his shoulders bunching into a shrug. You smile as him in his old uniform flashes through your mind. You also lean forward, smiling fondly.

“In my heart you’ll always be wearing that cute little sailor hat,” you say dreamily, adding on a light sigh to add to your teasing. Steve’s face falls.

“Haha, very funny.” He leans back before motioning his hands like he’s shooing you. “Well, go on, look around. Rent something before I’m out of a job,” he quips, lips pursing. You straighten your form and send him a firm nod.

“Yes, sir, Captain,” you say, continuing on with the joke. Steve smirks as his eyebrow quirks up. Your eyes go wide.

Stiffly turning away from him, you make a quick dash to the back corner where Robin was reshelving some of the returned videos. You could feel his stare on your back. You internally beg for the upside down to open up and swallow you whole. That would be better than this.

“Oh my god, I’m such an idiot,” you breathe out as you reach your best friend. You press your hands to your face to try and cool your heated cheeks. Robin jumps a little before turning to face you, brows furrowed.

“What? Why? What did I miss?” She asks rapidly, her eyes darting around the store. You notice the quick rise and fall of your chest but you can’t feel it.

“Me. Steve. Failure to produce correct words,” you try and explain, everything that had just happened was a little foggy. You might’ve blacked out at one point.

“Is it happening again?” Robin asks dryly, brow raised as she looks over you. You shake your head.

“No. Just constantly replaying the bomb show that was that encounter,” you explain. Robin sends you a look that usually let you knew you were being overly dramatic. But no, not this time.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she tries to comfort you by saying. You whimper and squeeze your face tighter as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more.

“I told him I imagine him wearing his cute little sailor hat,” you admit, eyes briefly shutting tight as your words echo through your head. Robin takes a step back and her eyes go wide as she looks off to the side. She puffs out her cheeks before blowing out the air.

“Wow.”

“I know,” you reply with a nod. Robin looks at you, expression the same.

“That is bad,” she states. You slap your hands against your thighs.

“I know!” You shout, careful not to be loud enough to attract Steve over and ask what they were talking about. You look around the back of the store. You need to get out of here and you would rather face the mind flayer than walk past Steve out the front door. “Can I sneak out the back? That way I won’t ever have to see him again. Then I can pack my things and move very very far away,” you plan, briefly wondering what door led to the back office and which one led to the closet. Robin holds up a hand.

“Can your travel plans wait till after my birthday party tomorrow night?” She asks. You purse your lips, tilting your head at her.

“But Steve will be there. And he can never see my face again,” you say simply. Robin grins, most likely about to throw some smart-ass comment your way when her eyes shift over your shoulder. They widen considerably as she lets out a short laugh.

“Uh… well there’s one problem with that,” she says, still looking away from you. You nod, but then do a double-take as you realize what she said.

“Only one? Wait— what problem?”

“The problem is that he’s coming over here right now,” Robin explains, grin widening.

“What?!” You strain to whisper-shout as your throat threatens to close all on its own. Robin looks back to you and her face falls as she watches you panic. Her expression and her tone soften as she places her hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, relax. Remember to process your words before you speak them, okay?” She says softly, sending you a kind and slightly amused smile. You nod.

“Okay.”

“Good job,” she praises before quickly making off in the opposite direction. You stay still, facing away from Harrington. Even as you feel him stop behind you. Silence fills the space between you for a few long moments.

“Hey…” Steve finally says, trailing off amusedly. You quickly swerve around to face him, a smile on your face that you really hoped didn’t look nervous.

“Hi, Steve. Hello. As I already said,” you say, fumbling with your words and clenching the hands you held behind your back.

Steve smiles softly, his gaze falling to the movies next to you both. With his arm leaning against the stand, he fiddles nervously with the edge of a rental.

“So listen…” he says, pushing off the stand and walking closer to you. You inhale sharply as you have to look up at him to meet his eye. “I’m gonna ask you to go out with me tomorrow night. And I’m kinda nervous about it, actually. It’s interesting, because I’ve never had a problem asking someone out before. I’ve done it a lot so this is kinda strange for me,” he explains, eyes flickering between your own. You try to remain calm but everything in your body is buzzing.

“Oh, well if it helps at all, I’m gonna say yes,” you reply, your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling so much. But it’s the only thing you can do to stop yourself from squealing and making a fool of yourself. Steve nods, a laugh filled with relief leaving him.

“Yeah, it helps. It creates a comfort zone,” he explains, trying to motion the feeling with his hands. He stares at you for a moment. Looking deep into your eyes. “Do you want to go out with me tomorrow night?” He asks softly.

You go to immediately respond when Robin’s words echo through your head. Take a moment to process the words before speaking them. Best way to avoid word-vomiting. But then suddenly all of what Robin had told you came hurtling through your mind and you remember. Her birthday party was tomorrow! It seems you had both momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, I can’t!” You say regretfully as you slap a hand on your forehead. Steve’s jaw drops and he lets out a short laugh. He bobs his head, looking away from you.

“Well, see, I like that you’re unpredictable,” he jokes, starting to turn away and make a quick exit back to the front desk of the store. But luckily you’re quicker. Stepping forward, you take his hands, making him look down at them. You bring him to stand in front of you and you tighten your grip.

“It’s just that it’s Robin’s birthday tomorrow and she’s having that party, remember?” You say softly, hoping he knows it wasn’t him you were rejecting. His eyes widen almost comically and his eyes drift off to the side.

“Oh, right. Gotta get a present for that,” he blinks back and looks over to you, now with an easier smile on his face. “Well that’s ok, we can hangout another time.” You look down and start fiddling with his fingers.

“Or we could go together. To the party,” you suggest, too nervous to look at him as you do so.

“A first date? At a birthday party?” Steve asks with a raised brow. A snort accidentally escapes you. You look up at him and start talking before he realizes the sound that just left you.

“Why not? I’m pretty sure it’s the last place you haven’t taken someone out on a date,” you tease, a smirk resting on your face. Steve mirrors it before schooling his expression to appear as though he were thinking back.

“Well, actually…” You laugh, letting go of one of his hands to smack him lightly on the chest.

“Zip it, Harrington. So what do you say?” You ask, feeling excited and nervous all at once. Steve smiles, taking his free hand to rest it under your jaw. His thumb reaches to brush softly against your cheek.

“You and me? Going to the party together? Sounds like a plan,” he says softly as he looks deeply into your eyes. His breath hitches after a few moments and he slowly and carefully leans down to rest his temple against yours. All while your entire body is vibrating and you’re not even sure you’re breathing. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he murmurs, breath ghosting across your cheek before he angles his head and presses his soft lips against your cheek for a few moments too long.

You exhale shakily as he releases you completely, hands squeezing lightly before letting go. His grin widens as he looks over you. Then he turns and starts walking back to the front.

You quickly turn your back to him and cover your mouth as you let out a silent scream. Every part of your body feels restless and excited and you can’t stop yourself from dancing in place. You jump and twist and shake your hips. You spin in a circle, only to see Steve dancing in place a few feet away. He turns just as you do and your eyes instantly connect. Your chest seizes from embarrassment and you stop your movements instantly.

“Oh, sorry!” You shout, holding your hand out. Steve stops as well, pursing his lips and sending you a stiff nod.

“Yeah. Yup. Sorry!” He says as he throws you a thumbs up. He turns back away and you watch as he rushes to hide behind the desk, staring intently at the computer.

“Oh my god…” you whisper to yourself, staring at the ground in slight horror.

“So how did it go?” Robin asks, her voice coming from behind you. You light up as you remember what happened before you once again made a fool out of yourself in front of Steve. You spin around to face Robin, instantly grabbing at her forearms.

“I managed to speak in complete sentences!” You say excitedly. Robins smiles brightly as she laughs.

“Awe, I knew you could do it!” She says as she shakes you a little. You try your best to grin slyly.

“And it looks like I have a date to your birthday party tomorrow,” you announce cheekily. Robin nods in respect.

“Gnarly. So you’ve cancelled your travel plans then?” She questions amusedly. You burst out laughing, letting go of her in order to shrug. You look over your shoulder to see Steve already watching you. He smiles, sending a small wave.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll stick around.”

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