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ahqkas · 8 hours

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♯ BAD MOON RISING ; mattheo riddle

❛ don't go around tonight

well it's bound to take your life

there's a bad moon on the rise ❜

PAIRING! death eater!mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! feelings of affection were just a weakness so he needed to get rid of the source

WARNINGS AND TAGS! lot of angst + a tiny bit of fluff, cruel mattheo (he’s been forced into it), kissing

WORD COUNT! 2.2k

NOTES! my complex boy

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

DAYS BEFORE THAT FATEFUL CONFRONTATION, THE CHANGE IN MATTHEO'S BEHAVIOR HAD BEEN GRADUAL BUT UNMISTAKABLE. It began subtly, with him slowly withdrawing from your usual interactions. During dinner, where you once shared whispered conversations and stolen glances, his eyes now avoided yours entirely, his gaze fixed resolutely on his plate or somewhere in the distance, empty of their usual glint of light. The words that once flowed so effortlessly between you had dried up, replaced by a heavy, uncomfortable silence. His hand no longer found its home on your thigh, rather keeping to himself as he picked at his nails.

During your study sessions, which had been a blend of focused work and playful banter, Mattheo became silent, his attention firmly on his books and notes, leaving you feeling like a ghost in his presence. You noticed the way he would position himself slightly further away, creating an invisible barrier that only added to your growing sense of unease. His laughter, once a source of warmth and home, was now absent, replaced by a cold, detached demeanor.

You tried to reach out to him, to understand what was happening, but each attempt was met with curt responses or outright avoidance. The physical closeness you once shared — the brief touches, the comforting hugs, the gentle kisses — all seemed to vanish, leaving an aching void in their wake. Mattheo's once reassuring presence became a source of confusion and hurt, and you found yourself grappling with a growing sense of isolation and fear.

The nights were the hardest. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with questions and doubts. You replayed your last conversations, searching for any sign of what had gone wrong, but found none. The memory of his warm embrace and soft words haunted you in a way that it hurt every day to even look at him. Each day, the gap between the two of you seemed to widen, and the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension grew heavier on your heart.

The library was a space full of quiet whispers and rustling pages, where students lost themselves in their studies. You and Mattheo had claimed a secluded corner as your own, a small table tucked between towering shelves of literature. It had become your usual spot, a place where you could be together hidden from all the curious gazes.

You were hunched over your textbooks, diligently taking notes, but you couldn't help the frequent glances you stole at your boyfriend. He sat across from you, his brows furrowed in concentration, but there was a tension in his posture that you couldn't ignore. The quill he held between his fingers moved absently over the parchment, but his eyes were distant, lost in thoughts that seemed far away from your current surroundings.

"Mattheo," you called his name softly, trying to draw his attention. When he didn't respond, you reached out and gently touched the back of his hand. "Is everything okay?"

His head snapped up, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something in those brown irises — pain, confusion, fear? — before it was replaced by a hard, cold look. "I'm fine," he said curtly, pulling his hand away from yours as if your touch burned him.

You frowned, your concern growing. "You don't seem fine. You've been distracted all week. What's going on?"

The Slytherin boy slammed his quill down, the sound echoing harshly in the quiet of the library. "I said I'm fine, [Name]. Just drop it."

Your heart skipped a beat at the harshness of his tone. He's never acted with you in this way. "Mattheo, please," you pleaded, and the tone of your voice trembled slightly. "I'm just worried about you. You can talk to me."

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing the curious eyes of nearby students. "I don't need to talk about anything," he snapped. "Especially not with you."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you recoiled, clear hurt flashing across your face. "Why are you being like this?"

His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth you had always found there. "Maybe I just don't want to be around you anymore," he said, his voice cutting through you like a knife. "Ever think of that?"

The library seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words suffocating. You struggled to breathe, your vision blurring with tears you refused to let fall. "If that's how you feel," you mumbled, voice breaking, "then maybe you should just go."

For a moment, his expression softened, a glimmer of regret flickering in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold expression. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you sitting alone at your usual table, the weight of your shattered relationship pressing down on your chest heavily.

The corridors of Hogwarts were dimly lit, casting long shadows over the stone walls as you made your way through them with determined strides. You had tried to give Mattheo space, tried to believe that he just needed time to sort out whatever was troubling him. But the distance he had put between the two of you, the coldness in his eyes — it all felt wrong, like a mask hiding something far more sinister. You couldn't let it go. You had to know the truth.

You found him in an abandoned classroom, the one you used to sneak into for stolen moments of privacy when everything felt like it was too much to handle. The room was filled with the faint scent of old parchment and dust, the opposite to the warmth and life it once held. Mattheo was standing by the window, staring out at the darkening sky, his silhouette outlined by the fading light.

"Mattheo," you called out to him, voice echoing slightly in the empty space. He turned, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of the sweet boy you loved in his eyes. But then his expression hardened, and he set his jaw defiantly. The image was gone.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice cold and detached.

Yet you stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by his words and behavior. "I need to know what's going on. Why are you pushing me away? Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying," he said sharply. "I've told you already. I don't love you, [Name]. This —" he gestured between the two of you "— was just a distraction."

Shaking your head, you felt tears welling up in your eyes for the second time this day. "No. I don't believe you. I can see it in your eyes, Mattheo. I know you. You're hiding something."

"You don't know anything," he spat. "You think you do, but you don't. I never loved you. I used you to distract myself, to feel something other than this emptiness inside."

You recoiled as if he had struck you, the words slicing through your heart like millions of daggers. But you weren't ready to give up. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't care. Tell me you never loved me and I'll walk away."

For a moment, he faltered. His eyes softened, the mask slipping to reveal the distress underneath. He glanced away from you, the complete opposite of what you wanted him to do, unable to meet the irises he so fell in love with.

"I don't care about you, princess. I never did."

You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. You wanted to scream, to cry, to shake him until he admitted the truth. But you knew it wouldn't matter. Whatever he was hiding, he was determined to keep it from you.

"Fine," you said after a while, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "If that's what you want, then I'll go. But know this, Mattheo Riddle: whatever you're hiding, whatever you're afraid of, it's going to come out eventually. And when it does, I hope you realize what you've lost."

You turned on your heels and walked away, the silence of the abandoned classroom pressing down on you like a heavy weight. Stepping into the corridor, you let the tears fall, each one a testament to the love for him you couldn't lost and the boy who had pushed you away.

Inside the classroom, Mattheo watched you go, his heart aching with the weight of his lies. He leaned against the window, closing his eyes as he fought back his own tears. He knew he had to keep up with the act, to keep you safe from the darkness that was coming. But the pain of pushing you away was almost too much to bear. All he could do was pick up the pieces of his own broken heart and try to make sense of the chaos he had left behind.

A few days later, chaos erupted within the stone walls of Hogwarts. The once peaceful corridors were filled with yells and screams as Death Eaters stormed the castle with sadistic laughter of their own. The sight of the Dark Mark glowing ominously in the sky cast an eerie green hue through the windows. Your heart raced as you sprinted through the halls, desperately seeking safety.

Students and professors alike were caught in the pandemonium, their faces masks of fear and confusion. Spells ricocheted off the stone walls, leaving scorch marks and rubble in their wake. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning wood and the metallic tang of magic gone awry.

As you rounded a corner, you skidded to a halt, your breath hitching in your throat. Ahead of you, a group of masked Death Eaters loomed menacingly, their wands raised and ready to strike. Panic surged through your system, but you forced yourself to think clearly. You had to find a way out, a safe place to hide until the madness subsided.

Ducking into a side passage, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your mind racing. You could hear the distant sounds of battle — the clash of spells, the cries of pain and fear. The Dark Mark's glow seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat.

Just as you began to move, a strong grip clamped around your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows of the passage. Your heart leapt into your throat, a scream forming on your lips, but it was cut short as you recognized the hand that held you. Mattheo's dark eyes met yours, filled with an urgency you had never seen before.

"Mattheo?" you whispered, confusion and hope mingling in your voice.

"Not now," he muttered, his grip never faltering as he tugged you along. The two of you darted through the twisting corridors, the noise of the ongoing battle echoing behind you. His pace was relentless, and you struggled to keep up, your mind racing with questions.

You rounded another corner, then another, moving further and further away from the chaos. Finally, he pushed open the door to an empty classroom and pulled you inside. He slammed the door shut and cast several protective spells on it, the tip of his wand glowing brightly in the dim room as you watched with confusion on your face.

Only then did he release your wrist, but the intensity in his eyes remained. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You nodded, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "What are you doing, Mattheo? Why are you helping me?"

He looked away and you could see the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I had to make sure you were safe."

"But you lied to me," you said, voice trembling. "You said you didn't love me, that I was just a distraction."

He flinched at your words, unable to meet your gaze as his fingers found yours. "I had to. If they knew how much you meant to me, they would have used you against me. Against us." He leaned closer to you, his eyes closing briefly before opening again to meet with yours, a frown pulling at his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I thought pushing you away would keep you safe."

Your heart twisted with a mixture of pain and understanding as you looked into Mattheo's tormented eyes. You could feel the weight of his guilt, the burden of the lies he had carried for your sake. Without a word, you closed the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a desperate, fervent kiss.

The embrace was fueled by raw emotion, a collision of love and anguish that threatened to consume you both. Mattheo's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you close as if trying to protect you from the storm raging outside and you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured all of your longing and forgiveness into the kiss.

For a fleeting moment, the chaos around you faded into nothing. There was only the two of you, lost in the moment. But as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the room, reality came crashing back with brutal force.

Reluctantly, you broke apart, your breaths mingling in the air as you stared at each other, hearts pounding in sync. There were no words to express the depth of your emotions, no promises that could erase the scars of the past. But in that moment, as you stood on the steps of uncertainty, you knew one thing for certain: you would face whatever came next together, not caring about anything other than the boy in your arms.

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gingerteaonthetardis · 8 months

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also dana scully simply would not go on a date with a flop right wing doomsday fake news freak. even if he did look like joel mchale

#the choices happening here. lmao. lmaooooooo #None Of This Is Happening. as far as i'm concerned #abbey.txt

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vivwritesfics · 8 months

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Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1

Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.

Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader

1.6K

Masterlist

Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.

If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.

On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.

Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.

Singapore was hot, hot, hot.

As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.

The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.

Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.

As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.

It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.

Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.

When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.

But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.

Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).

After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.

By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?

Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.

"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."

Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.

By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.

Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.

"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Just tell me!"

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.

Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.

Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.

Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.

She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.

"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."

The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.

But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.

With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.

She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.

When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.

When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.

Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.

Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.

When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.

No, it was too much for him.

"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.

But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.

When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.

"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.

"What stopped you?"

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radiance1 · 5 months

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Vlad Masters has died.

Or at the very least, that is what the upper class was lead to believe. Could you blame them? His death was wildly convincing, and the thing was.

No one knew who would inherit Vladco and his fortune.

As far as they knew, Masters never had any heirs to speak of at all. Not even an illegitimate child, or a foster care. He doesn't even have relatives that the fortune and company could go to.

So, safe to say, they were quite looking forwards to what would happen to the company. Would it sink, or stay afloat?

Now, normally, Damian wouldn't have cared a single bit about what would happen. But seeing as he is forced to go to an event held at the very dead Vlad Masters' mansion, he thinks he should have the right to see what'll happen.

The company's various stockholders were all gathered together, as well as Lex Luthor and other rich upper-class individuals. He knows that Vlad and Lex didn't like each other very well, so he thinks that Lex Luthor may or may not be backing the biggest current stockholder so that he'll have a say in the man's company when they take over.

Honestly, the event was pretty boring. He thought there would be... more, happening. Considering the context of this event.

So, he leaves. He's really just exploring to stave off his boredom, but if he found Vlad Masters' secrets before his death, well. Might as well, really.

He comes upon a room filled wall to wall with merchandise that screamed Masters was a packers fan before his death. Quite the large one at that as well. He picked up one item just to take a look at it, it wasn't something he was too interested in, but it was sort of impressive.

He turned when he heard the door open behind him, and saw a girl that was probably around his age staring at him with concern.

The thing is, she wasn't dressed like a guest. Or even a maid. She was dressed like a poor person.

So obviously he thought she was breaking in to find things to steal and sell off.

"I'm telling dad you tried stealing his packers merch." And with that, the girl was off, and Damian found himself running after her.

Why?

Boredom.

But also, father? He genuinely considers who she was talking about, clearly it couldn't have been anyone participating in the event, so was he also another thief that wanted to steal from Masters?

What sort of thief reveals they have another roaming around where they're stealing from? And their blood relation at that?

He realized that they were running towards where all the guests were gathered, and Damian thought that this girl was either lost, or genuinely didn't know what she was doing.

"Dad! Some kid is trying to steal your merchandise!" Said the girl, slamming open the doors and causing the attention of everyone present to fall directly on her as she paused.

Damian couldn't see it, but he thinks she's quite stupefied in that moment, paused on her pause. It was completely, and utterly quiet for a moment as the guests stared at her, and she stared back.

However, the next moment. The very detailed coffin laying in the center of the room suddenly swung itself open with a great pillar of green fire that reached the ceiling, causing his attention to switch over to it.

He saw lines on the floor around the coffin, lines that he previously ignored as some kind of design choice.

Lines that were filled with a liquid none to dissimilar to Lazarous Water.

A hand reached out of the coffin. "WHO DARES TO TOUCH MY PRECIOUS MERCHANDISE!?" And from beyond the grave the previously dead now arisen body of Vlad Masters pulled himself out of his own coffin, with inhumane red eyes.

So. Damian came to two conclusions that night.

One, Vlad Masters may or may not have had ties with the League of Assassins in some way, leading to his now ressurection.

Two, Vlad Masters has a daughter that was extremely well hidden from basically everyone present at the gathering and, maybe even the world at large.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

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sky-high-standards · 8 months

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Yandere Emperor x fem reader

set in medieval times. usual warnings y'all should know the drill by now☺

Your kingdom was being invaded and everyone did what they could to save it but the invaders were too strong you watched so many innocent people being slaughtered by the invaders and the survivors were taken hostage including you.

These invaders were sent by the emperor who was a cold and merciless man until he met you~

You were taken into the magnificent palace where you were forced to work for the emperor's wife Imelda, she was an extremely insufferable woman and treated all of her servants like crap. It wasn't the best life, but it could be far worse but unfortunately Imelda and the Emperor were having a rough patch and rumors said he was having multiple affairs with other women, so she was worse than usual.

You were on your way to bring Imelda her breakfast when someone bumped into to you and that person just happened to be the emperor you looked up at him wide eyed and covered in Imelda's breakfast and apologized profusely while he just stared at you he didn't look angry all he did was stare at you as you quickly collected everything and bowed before you ran off but little did you the moment he saw you that nervous look on you face got him excited in a way that no woman including Imelda had ever done something about you just caught his attention.

You walked into Imelda's room to see her crying on the floor you asked her what happened an she totally lost it.

Imelda: That's none of your concern you pathetic slave your lucky to be here but remember your place and stay out it!!!

You then left not wanting to deal with her again. It turns out that the king had just gotten tired of her and sent her off which was great news for everyone since they didn't have to deal with her anymore. Naturally the Emperor had to remarry so he had many beautiful women come to the palace where he would choose his new bride due to you being a servant you had to assist the women being sent but the strange thing was that each time a woman was being presented, he glanced at you for every single one it was as confusing to the emperor as it was to you he was just drawn to you every time he saw you a wave of excitement and...love? came over him that he wasn't used to.

Eventually he chose a wife she was very beautiful and seemed like a very suitable wife, but he never got that feeling when he was around her. The emperor's wife whose name was Miranda was very kind and caring and even befriended you she was great in every possible way, but everyone could feel the emperor didn't love her so poor Miranda made it her mission to win his affection yet nothing worked so she slowly began to give up on his affection while u didn't have to try you started to see the emperor a lot more often and you noticed his cold crystal blue eyes following you as you cleaned and unbeknownst to you it took a great deal of strength to restrain himself from pouncing of you and making you his he would go feral on the inside when you bend down to clean in his bedroom it was embarrassing how you didn't even have to do much to make him hard.

Slowly the emperor tried to have you around more to ease his hunger like "accidentally" brushing his hand against yours or having you bend down to get his pen that he "accidentally" dropped. All he wanted to do was make you his to own every inch of you, but he restrained himself, but it got harder to each time almost as if you were teasing him.

Tell me if I should make a part 2 I'm tired rn

Stay hydrated and safe love Y'all

#yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #name my yandere #yandere boy #medieval #yandere emperor

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley with a Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Headcanons and Scenarios

Am I back with baby fever? I mean yeah but this is less baby fever and more if Husband!Simon in honor of my first ever post that reached 1k likes in 4 days. Also you guys know Ghostie by now right? @connorsui mentioned that she wonders how Ghost and the reader met, guess who's writing about that?

Edit: SHIT, THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR SO LONG AND I FORGOT TO ADD CREDIT, I'M SO SORRY. The render above is by @ave661

Taglist: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @theredurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb

Also @puff0o0, my most favorite moot has helped me come up with how they met, UGH ILYYY <333

My CoD Masterlist <3

Warnings/Disclaimers: Reader is pregnant, sick!Reader, mentions of vomiting (not detailed), pain of birth and all the other pregnancy warnings out there. (Extreme fluff)

❥ Husband!Simon who had no fucking clue how to react when you first told him you got pregnant, I mean he knew at some point it would happen but not this soon?!

❥ Husband!Simon who in your early stages of pregnancy was the one holding your hair up while you empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet most mornings. He was the one who had a warm hand gently rubbing up and down your back while mumbling light encouragements, careful not to agitate you from the sickening feeling.

❥ Husband!Simon who was gradually getting the hang of things, getting clingier the further into the pregnancy. Once the baby bump comes in, bye bye personal space, Dad!Simon needs to have his hand on the bump no less than 10 times a day.

❥ Husband!Simon who is a sucker for kissing the baby bump, especially your stretch marks. He will be more gentle if you ask him to because your ticklish, but don't expect none of his stuble.

❥ Husband!Simon whose breath hitches when you took his large calloused hand onto your baby bump and felt movement, he had to blink twice up at you and look down again. Only now it was two hands holding the bump, waiting for more kicks.

❥ Husband!Simon who lets you do all the shopping with baby stuff because he has no idea what looks cute, every once in a while showing you something he thinks looks good and asks for your approval.

❥ Husband!Simon who looks back up at you in concern as he hears you whimper, as much as he wants more movement and feel the little one kick, you were in pain and uncomfortable. Some soothing words might help..?

You let out a soft whimper as you felt the baby kick again, god did she have her father's strength..

Simon still had his warm and heavy hand on the bump, feeling the little one's movement.

"Pumpkin.. give your momma a rest, she needs some sleep" Simon sleepily mutters. Just like that the movement stops.

"I swear she only ever listens to your voice, it's obvious that she's already a daddy's girl"

❥ Husband!Simon who is more than obsessed with the baby bump, albeit his ear over the bump to hear the baby, big calloused hands always have to be some place on it. You'll just find your husband clinging onto your bump, his head on your chest while his arms are wrapped around the loves of his life.

❥ Husband!Simon who was far more panicked than you were during the birth, he literally cannot even pay attention to the pain of your hand almost breaking his from the gripping because his heart is pounding in his chest while you push out the baby.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon who was trembling the moment you forced him to open up his arms so he could hold the baby. She's so tiny, her whole body almost fits in just one of his hands. The moment he held her, she stopped wailing, trying so hard to open her little eyes.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon couldn't help but pull you up into his arms too because you couldn't move up from exhaustion. Your hand on the little one's body that was cradled by her dad, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders while he kissed your sweaty forehead, singing praises to you about how thankful he is that you brought life to your little girl together.

A/n: Hi guys, just to start off. I haven't been in a good space for a while now, I don't think I'm in the right headspace either. Not to say I'm taking a break, fuck no, I'd lose all my relevance if I did and I also think that taking a break from this won't be good for me or you guys because I don't want history to repeat itself.

If you guys don't know yet, I've been on the break in 2020 and didn't officially start writing again till 2023, finally entering a different fandom. I feel like taking a break would result into this whole thing again and I can't go through that all over again. I love writing so much and it hurt when I lost all my relevance on Wattpad.

My personal life outside of Tumblr is weird to explain, see things haven't been good regarding my situation with a friend. Neither do I feel good in school, everything in that place just sucks except for two other closer friends. There's still the dreadful 3 weeks left till Christmas vacation. Not only that but I get anxiety over so many things that may be little to most of you.

A mutual of mine so graciously has given me ideas for the next Ghostie posts, I love them, it's accurate and it's great and all however some part of me makes me feel so insignificant. Like why didn't I think of that? Why am I even writing if I'm just relying on other people's ideas? This is no shade to that mutual, thank you so much, hell I loved everything they told me. It's just always my anxiety and insecurities getting the better of me.

Apologies for the length of this. I'm quite busy and my clumsy fingers accidentally published something again 😭Anyway, more Ghostie content is on it's way :))

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #dad!ghost #dad!simon

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mariasont · 21 days

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hi hi hi!!! i know you’re working on the bau sleepover buttttt i was wondering if you could write a aaron hotchner x reader fic where like what happened to garcia, reader gets shot and she’s in hospital and they don’t know if she gonna be okay and stuff. her and hotch have this mutual pining for each other and when she gets shot he kinda spirals. after being released, hotch takes her to her apartment and stays with her until they catch him and stuff. i know this is really long, thank you!!!

Some Profiler You Are - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi thank you so so sooo much for requesting <3 i kind of took this a more fluffy route and focused more on the recovery so let me know if you like it :)

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: reader was shot, comfort, angst like a teensy bit, fluff, changing of bandages, kinda shitty ending per usual

wc: 2k

"Do you want to sit down?"

No, you really didn't. After spending the last six hours in a state of near-motionlessness, sprawled across various surfaces, the last thing you wanted was to do was sit down. Your legs had taken on the consistency of overcooked noodles, so you made the grave mistake of misreading the quiet of the house as Hotch's absence, a mistake punctuated by the garage door's sudden rumble.

You should have known better than to assume he would leave you alone for even a second. Now, you were face to face, his scrutinizing eyes boring into yours, arms crossed across his wide chest. He was in a casual zip-up--a rarity that you never imagined him wearing before practically moving in with him. But you really did enjoy this relaxed side of him, he wore it exceptionally well.

Taking work off was a concept you knew was foreign him, yet here he was, not at his desk, hovering over you like a concerned parent. The entire office, yourself included, gaped at him as if he had sprouted a different head when he told them. His next move was even crazier--he insisted you stay with him while you recovered.

You protested. A lot. Shocker. But he wouldn't take no for an answer. Again, Shocker.

You winced as you stepped forward, your hands automatically gravitating to the bandage that spanned around your thigh.

"You can't baby me forever, Hotch," you murmured, though your conviction wavered under the dull throb in your leg.

You braced yourself against the counter, trying to mask the discomfort you were sure was etched all over your face.

Filling the shoes of the communications liaison for the FBI post-JJ's shift to profiling, you signed up for a life of managing the media narrative, being the conduit between local and federal levels, and choosing the cases. You provided assistance in ways that aren't glaringly obvious.

What you didn't sign up for is getting shot.

The movies, the stories, even the firsthand accounts from coworkers--none of it could brace you for the raw, blistering pain of a gunshot wound. It fucking hurt. And the recovery? It was a different kind of torture, and you'd even argue that it was worse.

"It's not babying, it's common sense," Hotch countered.

He was frustrated. You had that effect. He stepped closer, his hand dragging down his face. "You took a bullet. It's still in your leg. It's perfectly rational for me to want to prevent any unnecessary strain on you."

"Feels dramatic," you shrugged, but he was right, like always.

Your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles growing white as you struggled to keep the pain under wraps. His brows lifted in response.

"I'm fine, really, Hotch. I hate this. You're probably dying to get back to work--don't let me be the reason you don't. Despite popular belief, I'm quite capable of fending for myself."

"I'm aware," he said, his attention briefly shifting to your bandaged leg. You were wearing shorts, a choice that felt less than appropriate, but practicality trumped formality under these circumstances. "Work will survive without me. I'm not sure I can say the same about you."

Your laughter was short-lived, swiftly turning into a stifled grimace as your footing slipped. Hotch's reflexes were quick, his hands steadying you--one against your ribs, the other just shy above the hem of your shorts.

"Point in case."

"Poking fun at a wounded woman? Shame on you, Hotch," you chided, your lower lip jutting out in a pout. His eyes darted to it momentarily.

He didn't move, his hands staying put, stirring a gentle, jelly-like feeling inside of you.

This was an odd sort of comfort, the kind you're not supposed to feel with your boss. You shouldn't be talking to him like this, shouldn't be in his kitchen, and certainly, his hands shouldn't be where they were. But the ache in your heart didn't seem to care about shoulds and shouldn'ts.

Hotch's presence was hard to ignore. He was reducing the space with every word.

"You're hardly acting like a wounded woman," he pointed out. "You should be in bed."

You tilted your head, sliding onto the barstool to carve some much-needed space between you. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you needed distance to gather your wits before you did something that HR would definitely not look kindly upon.

The action was a mistake, a fact that became painfully clear as the feeling of something stabbing into your leg took hold. You tried to muster a smile, but you were sure it came across as a snarl. The last thing you wanted was to inflate Hotch's ego by showing that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Shit."

You followed his line of sight, landing on the fresh red seeping through the bandage and staining your shorts. Oh. That's not great. Don't think you can fool him with this one.

Hotch didn't hesitate, his response outpacing your own surge of panic, which was incredibly fast, because you were panicking and frankly not that great with blood. His hands were on your skin, easing the hem of your shorts upward to lay bare the wound you had stupidly underestimated.

You're never going on a date again.

I mean, the only reason you even went was to get your boss of your mind. Since the first day, you'd been hopelessly drawn to him--how could you not be?

But there are a couple factors to consider.

Firstly, he was your boss, and the whole notion of a coercive relationship dynamic seemed problematic.

Secondly, there's the age difference; it had never been an issue for you--perhaps a reflection of your daddy issues--but you knew it would raise some eyebrows.

And thirdly, he didn't even like you back. That was, of course, the biggest issue. If not for this, the other concerns could definitely be overlooked.

Before this whole incident, he barely acknowledged you beyond was professionally required of him. You knew you hadn't been part of the team long enough to bond--though you weren't sure Hotch did bond in the usual sense, but the point was made.

You were fairly sure you hadn't made much of an impression on him.

"Hold still." That was a tall order, considering it hurt more than a mother fucker.

You found yourself glaring at him--not that he was to blame, but you needed to anchor your frustration on something, or someone. Unknowingly, your grip had latched on the fabric of his zip-up, but he seemed unfazed. He grabbed a clean cloth from the drawer, pressing it against the wound, only furthering the colorful vocabulary going on in your head.

"Fuck, Hotch."

You didn't make a habit of cursing in front of your superior, but the sharp sting forced tears to the brink, your body going rigid as you snapped your eyes shut.

His other hand found its way to your uninjured thigh, giving it a firm squeeze--a clear attempt to divert your attention. It worked for a second. "I'm sorry, just keep this pressed here, okay?"

He motioned toward the cloth, and you complied, too drained to consider otherwise. Your brows knitted, and you bit into your lip until you tasted something metallicy, your mind desperately racing trying to think of anything other than the blood flowing freely from your thigh.

"Where are you going?" You knew how panicked you sounded as he turned away, stepping towards a cabinet.

He rummaged briefly before holding up a first aid kit. Catching the brief alarm in your face, he quickly returned to your side, his hand finding the crook of your neck as you instinctively clutched at his shirt once again.

"If you dare say I told you so, I swear, Hotch, fists will fly," you ground out through clenched teeth.

He laughed, and now that did distract you, your eyes zeroing in on his perfect teeth. It was a rare display, and it only served to aggravate you further. Of course he had perfect teeth.

"I didn't say anything."

"I could feel you thinking it," you said, your voice rough as you willed the moisture in your eyes not to fall. "Maybe I should be a profiler."

"Definitely."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." You were lying. Everything suited him. He stepped back, and you reluctantly peered at the wound, only to find a neatly sutured leg. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"In this job, you learn to be handy with more than just a gun.”

You’d love to know what else he’s handy with.

He pulled your leg up to rest on his as he took a seat on the opposite stool.

Your body was buzzing, from the closeness, from his hands on you, and also from the pain, but you were trying to ignore that. He grabs a new bandage from the counter, hands trailing up your thigh so slowly you thought you might pass out. He was so gentle. There was no other word for it.

"How's it feel?"

You paused. Eyes fully locked on his precise movements as he wrapped you up. You were closer than you realized, practically sharing the same breath.

"Fine."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, and he finished up his task, his hand lightly patting your thigh to show he was done. You didn't move your leg from his lap, and he didn't move his hand.

"I couldn't sleep for three days."

"What?" Your brows were furrowed, your focus sharpening on his face as the words left his lips.

"When I found out you had been shot." He cleared his throat, his thumb making gentle rotations on your calf. "I couldn't close my eyes without seeing red for days. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch who did that to you. I almost did."

You weren't sure how to process this information, or why he was telling you. "You and me both."

"I'm serious." And you could tell he was, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand firmly encircled around your leg. You felt a lump in your throat form as heat rose from your neck to your ears. "Do you know what that was like? I felt like my heart stopped."

"Why?"

"Why?" It was more a scoff than a word. He blew out a breath, his fingers pinching into the space between his eyebrows. "Is it not obvious?"

Your heart was beating a lot faster. You wanted to say something, anything but your throat was dry and every time you opened your mouth you found it snapping shut.

Hotch's expression softened ever so slightly, his voice low and bouncing off the walls as he spoke. "Because I'm in love with you."

Your breath stalled, as if every ounce of oxygen had been vacuumed from your lungs. The air felt heavy, almost tangible.

You stared at him, heart skipping a beat.

"That's not funny," you said. It wasn't. You weren't in the mood for jokes, and your brain couldn't comprehend he might be telling the truth. "You...you don't even notice me."

He shook his head. "I notice everything about you." His thumb stilled on your calf. "I'm your boss," he said, as if that explained everything. "There are rules, protocols. I couldn't...I still shouldn't..."

The confession stripped the room of its warmth, leaving a raw aching silence in its wake. You searched his face.

"When you got shot," he continued, "I realized that if I lost you, I'd regret not telling you how I feel for the rest of my life."

"Hotch, I..."

He leaned closer, causing your words to catch in your throat. His hand moved from your leg to your face. You were speechless, the world narrowing down to the man in front of you, to his eyes, the warmth of his hands.

"Say something."

"Are you kidding me?" Your heart was pounding like it was trying to escape from your chest. "I've been in love with you since I started. How could you not see that?"

He looked taken aback, as if your words were the last thing he expected. "Well—,"

But you didn't let him finish. "Some profiler you are."

You were practically climbing into his lap, hands framing his face, pulling your lips to his.

He chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. "Easy," he murmured, "don't make me fix that bandage again."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee. "Shut up, Hotch."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Aaron hotchner #Hotch #criminal minds fic #Aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #Thomas Gibson

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

Text

Out of Position

Hi. So, I'm not really sure I like this but hey-ho. I'm trying to write my masters dissertation so fics may be few and far between loll but I wanted to write something. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Lucy Bronze x reader

Description: R has to play out of position for Barça

Word Count: 1.5k

The season had been … tough, to say the least.

The start of the season was great, you were playing your favourite 6 or 8 positions. You were happy there – you were racking up assists, you had your name on score sheets more regularly. Things were really looking good for you. You were in the Starting XI regularly, slowly increasing the minutes to full matches every week. Your national team coaches had noticed your efforts to, soon earning that number 8 shirt at international level. Things were looking really, really good.

And then Mapi got injured. That was a blow to the team, no doubt. Her infectious energy was sorely missed during trainings, her technical prowess and defensive knowhow that were so integral to the team was difficult to replicate. But everyone was managing incredibly well. Slowly but surely, you were being played further away from where you were comfortable. And then Alexia was out again too. Another massive knock. Not just for the team, seeing the Captain out of commission was hard on everyone, but for you in particular. You were slowly being played further back on the pitch than you were entirely comfortable with. You weren’t a defender. You did your part, when necessary, but you weren’t a defender. You were never fully happy making those harsh tackles and committing essential fouls. Your main form of defence came from interceptions – your speed was something to be noted by all commentators. You were always the first onto a wayward ball. It was something you prided yourself on. It was something the whole team prided themselves on, none-so more than Lucy.

You didn’t know how it happened really, but by the away El Clásico, your picture was being displayed on screen in the no. 5 position. Who would have thought you would end up playing against Real Madrid as a centre-back? Especially when considering you started the season as an attacking midfield and borderline striker?

“I can’t do this.” You were full on panicking in the changing rooms. Your hands were gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles were turning white; your wide frantic eyes flittered nervously around the room; your skin was cold and clammy, your breathing erratic. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Sí, puedes, chica.” Patri soothed, running her hand in wide comforting circles along the length of your back. You had been fine during training, and most of the warmup but you had seen Moller Hansen give you, what you interpreted to be, a menacing glare, and something had snapped in you. “Amiga, you need to breathe” Patri reminded you, exaggerating her own breathing to try and prompt yours. It wasn’t working. Marta and Irene were with you, both looking on with some concern. “Ves a buscar la Lucy.” Patri ordered one of them, not taking her eyes off you. You had moved one hand from the bench to your thigh, your nails pressing harshly into the muscles, dragging unforgiving lines up and down.

Not 30 seconds after the door swung shut behind Marta, a very concerned Lucy appeared by your side, worry etched on her face.

“Can’t … do it,” you struggled to get the words out. Lucy’s heart shattered at your words. She had seen the hours you had put in, the number of dates you had rain checked to stay late with the defensive coaches, the frequent mornings when she had woken up, alone with your side of the bed cold with a note on your pillow telling her that coffee was in the machine, she just needed to press start and that you’d see her at training. If she didn’t know where you were, she would be concerned you were cheating on her. But no, you were in the gym at the crack of dawn, strengthening your muscles and pushing yourself to go beyond your previous limits. She was exhausted just looking at the work you were doing. But it wasn’t in vain. You looked so natural in the back line; anyone that didn’t know you would think you were comfortable. But no one saw these moments and sheer and raw terror that coursed through your veins moments before you stepped out of the changing rooms.

“You can, pretty girl. I promise you; you can do it.” Lucy said, gently crushing you to her chest. She was sad to admit that this was a common occurrence.

“Scared,” you croaked out. “let the team down.”

“No, my love, you will never let us down. I promise. You can never, ever let anyone down.” She cooed, her fingers dipping under your shirt to run her nails over your bare back. She pulled back after a few moments, waiting until your breathing evened out a little bit – her comforting smell washing over you and soothing your body more than any words could do. She cupped your face, gently running her thumb across your cheek. “I love you, so, so much. There are 10 other girls on that pitch, all of them believe in you. You wouldn’t be out there if the club didn’t think you could do this.” She said her words with such conviction. You took a deep breath and nodded – not believing her words, but the noise outside the changing room was growing louder, signalling that both teams were ready to go. You were still incredibly nervous, but you did have a job to do after all. You both left the changing room hand-in-hand, taking your customary places at the back of the line.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” She whispered in your ear as she caught you staring off into the distance. You turned to look at her, a slightly guilty look on your face as your bite your lip harshly. “I love you,” she said emphatically.

“I love you,” you said softly back, not as nervous as you were before, but definitely not good.

It was a tough match. Real Madrid had really stepped up their game since the last time you were out. It was a 1 – 1 all draw that was growing more precarious every minute. You had just 10 minutes left of the match and both sides were determined to break the stalemate.

Madrid were on the attack, having been able to pick out weaknesses in Barça’s defence. Lucy had drifted too far from her position, letting Carmona utilise the space by making a speedy break for it. You were the furthest back in your team’s line up. Your muscles were aching, your face was red with effort, yet you had to win this ball back. You couldn’t let Cata take on Carmona and Caicedo all by herself. You ran. Hell, you practically flew down that flank, pushing yourself harder and faster than you ideally wanted to.

You knew exactly what Olga was going to do before she did it. Maybe it was your experience up front? Maybe it was all the hours you had spent reviewing footage of various players you would face in the league? But you abandoned your chase on Carmona, changing your momentum to catch up to Caicedo just at the right time. Cata had drifted to the right in anticipation of Olga’s strike, but you knew she wouldn’t attempt the shot – not when Caicedo was sitting wide open with a goalkeeper-less net in front of her. You threw your body into the header – it was easily the harshest one you had given all season – possibly your whole career. Your technique was perfect though as you caught only the ball, using your momentum to bounce the ball away from the goal before bouncing painfully on the ground. You quickly rushed to your feet, watching Cata take advantage of a very confused Caicedo and a disappointed Carmona to chase the ball and boot it out into the stands.

There was a moment of quiet – at least it was quiet for you – before the world came back into focus. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you sucked in precious oxygen. Cata was the first to get her hands to you. She shook your shoulders almost violently, your head wobbled comically at the action.

“Tu nena preciosa,” she shouted, kisses raining down on your forehead. You felt head pats and light taps on your back as you made your way back into your position.

Finally, the full whistle went. Barça had won El Clásico yet again (although it was tougher than anyone cared to admit)

“You …” Lucy said as her warm arms wrapped you in a hug. “That was the best defending I have ever seen.” She smiled, clearly wanted to say and do more.

“I learned it from you,” you whispered as you squeezed back. “The flying header. A Lucy Bronze special,” you teased.

“And you said you couldn’t defend.” She scoffed. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing kisses into your sweaty hairline. You blushed profusely but smiled, nonetheless. That was all you really wanted, to make Lucy proud. “I think this calls for a treat, don’t you?” She whispered seductively into your ear as she dragged you into the changing rooms, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.

Hope you enjoyed reading <3<3<3<3

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danveration · 4 months

Text

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine.

Parings: Dark!Creepy!Vox x GN!reader

Summary: Vox has a plan to finally make you his

Word count: 3145

Warnings: Stalking, obsession, manipulation, delusion, self-delusion, reader getting hypnotized by Vox against their will, mention of death, mentions of cannibalism (cannibal town), being watched while naked, reader being hurt by Vox physically

Part one

A/N: GUYS. I have a part 3 planned out but it’s REALLY fucking dark😭. Also, I was listening to the song “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift while writing this. (Hence the inspiration for the title)

Vox is getting impatient.

It’s been two weeks since he met you face to face. Two weeks since he gave you the laptop in which he’s been watching you through the webcam, and still all the cameras. Two weeks since you have been getting paranoid.

Ever since you’ve been using the laptop, you’ve noticed it’s been sparking with electricity whenever you use it. You kind of brushed it aside though because maybe this is normal for VoxTek technology.

But little did you know, it’s not normal. None of this is normal. Vox has been watching you and seeing what you browse on your laptop 24/7. He has had little no breaks. Valentino and Velvette have been giving Vox the side eye as of late, looking at him with pity/concern. He doesn’t care though, he just thinks they’re the crazy ones. This is completely okay and normal for him! How is it wrong? Nobody could prove him otherwise.

Vox must admit, seeing you face to face on the laptop camera other than angles from the cameras that are far away, is completely different. This is a millstone for him. He gets to admire you up close and take in every single detail of you. A couple days ago, you forgot to close your laptop that was on a table in your room, facing your bed. That was a fantastic day for Vox. He had a field day. He isn’t ashamed of what he did, he’s proud. He did it for you.

You’re currently sitting on your bed with your laptop, scrolling through Hell’s news feed. You’re bored, you want to do something but honestly there’s nothing much to do in Hell that doesn’t have a 90% death rate. You decide to close the laptop and go downstairs.

Vox is up. He’s been up. He had two cups of coffee beside him and he’s been awake for.. What is the hour now? He’s lost count. He just doesn’t want to miss something happening in your life! What if you wake up with a nightmare? What if bad people want to hurt you suddenly when you’re outside or asleep?? There’s so many things that could happen. He needs to be there and alert to protect you.

“Fuck sakes, Vox. You’re still on this? Clear your head, dummy!” Velvette says with a roll of her eyes.

“Shut up. My head is clear, Velvette. I’m as sane as I’d ever be!” He says.

“Uh huh.. sure. Whatever you say.” She says, walking away.

Vox shakes his head and chuckles. “People are crazy.”

He looks back up to his screen, watching you go downstairs.

You get downstairs and see that everyone is down here.

“Ah! Y/n! Goodmorning!” Charlie says with a smile.

“Morning, Charlie.” You say with a smile, waving.

“Good morning, dear!” Alastor says to you, while he’s sitting on a chair.

You look over to where he is. “Morning, Al!”

Vox’s eye twitches.

Angel and Husk are talking at the bar, and Niffty and Sir Pentious are talking. Well.. Niffty seems to be telling him something and he’s standing there in shock, looking terrified. Typical reaction for when Niffty is telling you something.

Vaggie is cleaning her spear in the lounge area, and Charlie is writing on a paper.

“Sooo, now that everyone’s here I have an announcement to make!” Charlie says, looking up from her paper. “Today.. We are doing group activities! Yay! Haha so, basically I had the great idea for all of us to go out on the town together and just spend time with one another. Doesn’t that sound fun?!” She says with excitement.

A day on the town. Honestly, that sounds nice. You’re bored out of your mind today so anything goes.

“Eehh.. I dunno. I had plans alrea-“ Angel starts but Charlie cuts him off.

“Oh come onnn! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Charlie says.

Everyone is silent so she takes that as a yes. “Alright! Great! Everyone meet here in an hour and off we go!”

You go upstairs to get dressed.

Vox listens intently to what Charlie says. A day on the town? He’s been racking his brain on how to talk to you in real life again. This may be just the thing! What if you two “accidentally” run into each other? Perfect. He notices that he’s not in the best physical state at the moment. He’s in sweat pants and a stained t-shirt. And he hasn’t showed in... A couple days. He has an hour to freshen up. He bolts out of the room to take a shower, brush his teeth, and put on his classic suit outfit.

You’re getting out of the shower and you pick out an outfit to wear. Fixing your appearance, you notice you left your laptop open again. Damn, you’ve got to get on closing that. It’ll lose its battery!

Vox steps out of the hot shower, looking at himself in the mirror. He winks at himself and goes to pick his suit outfit. After getting dressed and ready, he glances at the screen and sees you naked, about to get dressed.

“Fuck.” He says, eyeing you up and down. He feels he’s in a trance, which is ironic.

“All mine.” He whispers. Shaking his head quickly to gain composure, he sets off to go to the hotel. He will watch you guys from afar until you arrive somewhere where it’s likely where he’d be at too. Then, his mastermind plan will layout.

———————————————————————

You get downstairs and everyone is there, which is surprising. You’d expect at least Angel or Alastor to sneak off, not wanting to do this.

“Allriiggghht!! Let’s go.” Charlie says, walking to the entrance and opening the door for everyone.

“Where exactly are we going?” Angel says.

“Yeah, I’m not looking to walk no marathon.” Husk joins in.

“Wellll, I was thinking we’d just go to..” Charlie trails off. “Umm..”

“Charlie, do you even know where you’re taking us?” You say with a chuckle.

“Well…. Not yet. But! This isn’t about the destination. It’s about spending time together!” She says with a smile.

“I ssuppose you’re right.” Sir Pentious says.

Alastor’s ears twitch upwards and he says, “I have a marvelous idea! We could go to cannibal town! It’s truly a wonderful place. Remember, Charlie?” Alastor suggests.

“Hmm.. You know, that’s actually not a bad idea!” Charlie says.

Everyone gives them looks.

“Cannibal? As is.. Cannibal?” Sir Pentious says with shock.

“Ooohh..” Niffty laughs. “I’m SO excited!” She says, jumping up and down.

“Yeah! It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.” Charlie says with a smile.

“Whatever you think is best, babe.” Vaggie says, holding onto Charlie’s arm.

“Cannibal town it is!” Charlie says, leading the group.

———————————————————————

Vox is overhearing the conversation. “Cannibal town? Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers, walking a safe distance away from you guys. Even simply seeing you exist is driving him crazy. You’re so perfect. “Cannibal town it is then. The things we do for love.” He chuckles to himself.

The way you walk is so memorizing to him. Look at you. He feels electricity spark around him, knocking over a electric pole next to him, making a loud noise.

“Shit.” He says, glancing in front of him, seeing you all stop for a moment, about to look back.

He quickly looks to his left and jumps out of the way. He waits a few seconds and then peaks out, seeing you all keep walking forward.

He sighs and goes back to following you.

What he didn’t notice was that Alastor was no longer with the group, instead, he teleported himself behind Vox. He notices, of course he does. He smiles to himself at the fact that he now has the upper hand, he has something to now hold over his head.

Teleporting back to the group, he glances over to Charlie.

“My dear, there it is!” He points.

“Ahh! Guys, we are here!” She says.

You all look around in shock. It’s actually.. Really nice there. Nicer than any place you’ve seen in Hell since you arrived. Everyone seems very polite.

Angel goes off to flirt with people, Husk looks around for the nearest bar, Charlie and Vaggie take pictures together, Sir Pentious is looking around paranoid, and Niffty is.. Where’s Niffty? Oh well, she’ll show up sooner than later. And Alastor is chatting with a lady. You think her name is Rosie? You saw her on an overload poster the other day.

You see a water fountain and go to sit by it.

Vox looks around. He’s pleasantly surprised. This isn’t the kind of place he’d choose to go, but it’s still not as bad as he thought it would be. He thought it would just be people violently eating and killing each other.

He sees you sitting on a bench beside a fountain, and walks up from behind.

You’re feeling kind of thirsty so you get up to go find the nearest store. Hopefully they sell things other than human remains.

Vox takes this as his chance, he walks swiftly beside you and then bumps into you on “accident.”

You jump and look to your side.

Vox..?

“Oh shit sorry!” He chuckles, looking up at you.

“Oh you’re.. Y/n, right?” He says with a charming smile.

“Yeah.” You chuckle awkwardly.

“You come here often?” He asks.

“To cannibal town? No, haha. Me and some friends are just visiting.” You explain.

“Ahhh.. I see, I see.” He stares at you in admiration.

You can’t help but feel weird around him. You’re not sure why. He seems like a nice guy, but.. There’s just something about him.

“Well..” You say. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Mind if I join you?” He says with a smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone eating you or anything like that.” He laughs and starts walking with you, not waiting for an answer.

“Soo.. How’ve you been? Have you been enjoying your new laptop?” He asks you.

You can’t seem to find a store that would sell water so you just stand there, turning your head to Vox to make conversation.

“I’ve been pretty good! Bored, but good. And yeah actually, I’ve been using it a lot.” You say, smiling.

“Oh that’s good, that’s good.” He says, nodding.

His heart is beating out of his chest right now.

You try your best to put aside your feelings of uneasiness towards him. It’s probably nothing. He’s just a new face and you gotta get used to that! He didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just your brain being annoying.

Little did you know, you have every single right to feel uneasy.

“Have you enjoyed all the features?” He asks, wanting to know more about what your thoughts are on the laptop. But more or less, just wanting to hear your voice and make as much conversation as he can with you.

“Yeah! Though.. I’ve noticed something weird. Is it.. normal for the laptops to spark electricity?” You ask in question, remembering how whenever you went on it, you saw sparks aka Vox watching you.

Vox smiles and says, “Absolutely! That’s completely normal. We thought it would be a cool idea, you know? It’s completely harmless!” He says in a convincing tone.

You feel relived at that. “Ohh alright, good!” You smile.

Vox wants to ask you out on a date. He wants to just take you. He want you. All of you. He just doesn’t know how to approach this. It’s overwhelming for him.

“Vox?” You say, “What’re you doing here?” You ask in question, wondering what sort of business a powerful, popular man like himself was doing here.

“Hm?” He starts. “Oh! Right. I’m just here walking the streets. Browsing.” He answers with an awkward chuckle.

“Ohh, nice.” You ask, looking behind him to see Niffty chasing someone with an arm.

“Oh my- Will you excuse me, Vox? I have to go do something.” You say, stepping away from him.

He sparks and steps in front of you, blocking you.

“W-wait! Hold on. I wanted to ask you something.” He says with a smile.

You look at him with a raised brow.

“Uhh..” He says, shifting his feet and looking away and back at you, seemingly nervous.

“Haha..” He awkwardly scratches his neck and thinks over how exactly he wants to say this.

Just as he was about to talk and ask you to go out with him, Charlie steps in the way.

“Y/n! We were going to head back to the hotel now and do some more fuunn group exercises!” She said smiling.

She looks over to who you’re talking to and tilts her head.

“Hello! Who might you be?” She says smiling at him.

Vox stares at her, annoyed.

“This is Vox. He owns VoxTek and he’s one of the VVV’s.” You cut in.

“Oohhh well it’s SO nice to meet you, Mr. Vox.” She says.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too. Me and Y/n were just-“ He mumbles but gets interrupted by Niffty running between his legs and accidentally hitting him with the arm she was waving around.

His eyes go red and electricity goes around him, showing that he’s mad. He’s had enough. This was supposed to be a swift move. He comes in, wipes you off your feet, you fall in love with him, and you’re his. But in his mind, all these fucking bitches keep interrupting his time with you. He’s had it.

He snaps and grabs your arm, pulling you away from everyone. Charlie just looks in question, but walks away when she notices Vaggie calling her over.

You’re shocked and confused. What is going on? You barely know Vox. You feel a spark as he grabs you, and you hiss out in pain.

“Y/n.” He says, looking at you. His eyes are manic wide and he’s smiling at you possessively.

You try to back away but he holds you firmly by his wrist.

“Just listen. Everything is okay. I was trying to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me.” He explains calmly, despite his not very calming state.

You now feel better that you had an uneasy feeling about him. It was deserved.

“Uhh.. Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’m sorry.” You say hesitantly.

He stops. Letting go of your arm.

“What did you just say?”

He looks at you in shock, anger, and determination.

You back up and say, “No. I don’t want to go on a date with you, Vox. I’m sorry.”

You walk away, meeting Charlie and the rest of the family. You guys walk back to the hotel, leaving Vox there to spiral.

Vox stands there, frozen. Did you just..? Say no..? To him? The love of your life? What has gotten in your head? He’s in disbelief. He shakes his head, laughing.

“No. This isn’t right. Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll clear your head in no time.” He says with a smile, calming walking back to his headquarters.

———————————————————————

You’re back in you room, ready for bed. Yawning, you open your laptop to check your messages before you go to sleep.

Vox is smiling as he sends hypnotizing message through the screen. Trust him, love him, and feel sorry for how you treated him.

All of a sudden, you see sparks on the laptop again, but this time, you feel something.

Your head spins and your eyes go foggy for a second. All you can think about is how much you messed up by declining Vox’s offer today. How dumb can you be? Why would you do that?

You snap out of the trance and frown. A wave of regret and shame fills you. Vox of VoxTek, one of the most important people in Hell, the guy who gave you a free laptop, the charming man who asked you out on a date, when he could’ve asked anyone else but he asked you.. and you said no?!

You panic and begin to have anxiety. You have to apologize to him. In person.

Getting up, not even changing out of your pyjamas, you leave your room and go to walk over to the VVV tower to say sorry to Vox and see if it’s not too late to accept his offer.

All-while, Vox is sitting back smirking while watching you on his screens. See?! Now you have some sense talked into you. You just needed a little push. His lovely is on his way to see him, as it should’ve been. You just needed some reminding of how you really felt. Vox is excited to see you again. And this time, it won’t get interrupted.

You get to the VVV tower, entering the place. It’s pretty cool there. You look around and go to the reception desk.

There’s a young man there, you have the idea to ask him if you can speak to Vox.

“Hey um.. Am I able to see Vox? I have something to say to him.” You ask.

The man laughs at you and just stares.

“Oh, you’re serious?” He asks. “No can do! We can’t just let random people walk in and talk to him.” He says in a “are-you-dumb” way.

Suddenly, Vox enters from the elevator.

“Y/n! Hello, you.” He says with a charming smile, walking over to you.

“V-Vox! I just um.. I wanted to say something to you. If that’s okay..” You start.

He shushes you and tells you to wait while he brings you up to his room for more privacy.

As you two get to his room, you look around. It suits him. There’s a lot of screens and all the colours that match his usual outfits.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” He says smugly, knowing already.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted when you asked me out. I shouldn’t have said no.. I just.. I don’t know what came over me.” You say apologetically.

“Oh my dear, dear, Y/n. Thank you for your apology.” He says. “Do you have a different answer now?”

You feel a twist in your gut. Half of you is still saying no, but half of you is saying yes. You don’t know which one to lean into. It feels like your brain is confused and that you can’t even trust yourself.

Vox notices you thinking hard, so he helps you. Using his hypnotizing “power,” he puts sense into your brain.

Your head goes dizzy for a second and all comes clear to you. You don’t have to trust yourself. You can just trust him. The answer was staring you in your face all along.

“Y-yes! I do have a different answer. I’d say yes. I want to go out with you.” You say quickly.

Vox smiles.

“Oh course you do.” He whispers.

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #my works #:vox #vox x you #vox hazbin #hazbin hotel imagine #vox imagine #vox smut #hazbin hotel x you

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lundenloves · 10 months

Note

OMG OMG OMG HEAR ME OUT PLEASE! What if Simon/Ghost comes back home from deployment and is really stressed, annoyed and angry from a mission. He’s left alone with his oldest daughter in the house and has this horrible fight with his oldest daughter and I mean like screaming because the oldest daughter can’t find her shirt and he refuses to help until finally she blurts “I hate you” to him out of the heat of the fight…CAN THIS SOMEHOW END WITH MAJOR FLUFF BETWEEN THE TWO?! If it’s too much just ignore me❤️❤️ Thank you, I love your work🤭🤭

{✧} hello beautiful anon, you have seemingly given me life? banged this out in around an hour. if it seems like it only took an hour, please ignore that or i’ll drown myself in a loch. hope i’ve done your ask justice? thank you for asking for angst, that’s probably why it got done so fast 💀

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

↳ no warnings | 1.2k | dad!simon

It was quiet in the house. Just quiet enough for Simon to process what had just happened in the last 48 hours — yet not quiet enough for his ears to ring from constant gunfire. It was a happy medium, alone bar his oldest who jogged up and downstairs at record paces. Flipping the living room upside down, and the pile of clean washing on the bottom stair was tossed to the floor in a desperate attempt to find her shirt.

He was sitting on the sofa, head leant back, eyes shut only to hear her scuffling around. “Where’s my shirt?” She penetrated his happy silence, stood in front of him with arms dropped to her sides in a teenage palava. “Where did you put it?”

Simon gave her a noise between a sigh and a hum, craning his neck to look up at her. “What?” He unintentionally spat, his normal tone of voice as sharp as ever. “I ‘aven’t touched your shirt.” Eyes locked to the pile of recently ironed clothes tossed to the floor by the stairs. “They’ll be in that fucking pile you’ve chucked around and walked past ten times.”

“Well, they’re obviously not.” She groaned.

Simon shrugged, standing up to stack this morning’s breakfast dishes. “What do you want me to do?” He shook his head at her, taking the plates to the kitchen with her trailing behind him. “I can’t magic it, can I? It’ll be wherever you’ve left it.”

“It’s not. That’s the point. You’ve moved it.” She had genetically taken his frown, sporting it straight back to him when he had turned around to take something from the table.

“Oh, have I?” He mumbled nonchalantly, loading the dishes into the sink with loud clatters. “Get those mugs from your room.”

“No, I'm looking for the shirt.” Her tone matched his, stubbornly kicking her foot against the chair leg to get his attention. “Can you check mum's stuff?”

“You can.” He turned around, a dish towel balled between his hands with a nod toward the stairs.

Simon's moods were hard to distinguish. The primary reason being: he always seemed to be in some sort of disparity. So even when he’d come back from a particularly challenging mission, one that had asked too much from him or went horrifically wrong, he would almost always be the same as he usually was. Blunt, sarcastic and seemingly uncaring.

You had learned to tell the difference but your daughters knew none the wiser. Leading to unknowingly provoking yet valid questions like, “What is wrong with you.”

“Nothing. Get the mugs.”

“You never help with shit.” She scoffed, turning on her heel to stomp upstairs and Simon’s jaw ticked. Head tilted to the side, palms leaning either side of the sink with a step back to hang his head between his shoulders.

Having a teenage girl was the route of many headaches for Simon. Not particularly because of her, but for the natural way where everything revolves around them for an extended amount of years. Everything is embarrassing, if not first regarded as useless. And as far as Simon was concerned he fell somewhere between the two in her radar.

“Don’t start with that.” He’d said once she had slammed the mugs down on the table behind him, his back was still toward her.

“Well it’s fucking—“

“I mean it.”

“It’s true you’re never here!” She shrilled. “You never do anything, you’re always angry and never help.” A beat. “You don’t even talk to us, dad.” She paused, undoubtedly eyeing him for any sort of reaction. “It’s fucked, you’re fucked.”

He turned to take the mugs, eyes avoiding hers although his jaw was tense. “And you can’t even have a conversation.” She laughed though it held no comedy. “You’ll just snap like you always do.”

“I snap because it’s hard to switch between work and home— here.” He turned around, his daughter shying from his broad frame and low voice. Refraining from asking about Simon’s work was the one thing you had instructed all three of your kids not to do. Although, naturally it became a target point for arguments with him. A real low blow, the best and most critical hit you could land on him was his absence from home due to work.

Bonus points if you added all he had missed, the first steps, the first words. It was a lot. But it was not there to be thrown back in his face, not as often as it was anyway. “You don’t even want to be here.”

He shifted in his position, placing hands behind his head at her confrontation. “All of this because of that shirt.” His words directly combated hers, hitting them backward and stopping them from landing anywhere near him. Effectively avoiding her statement.

“When’s the last time you hugged me, dad?” She said calmly yet loudly, metaphorically shattering glass over his head.

It had been weeks, months at worst.

His silence was telling, hands dropped down to his sides in defeat. As usual, he couldn’t find the words so she had jumped for her turn and jab one more time.

“I hate you. I hate you for that, so bad.” It came as a whisper and by that point, the kitchen had fallen quiet too. Occasional sniffs and the rubbing of the odd tear turned her face red, Simon cleared his throat.

It only highlighted her point in that he stood still. Though, it wasn’t fair to point a finger and say it was his own fault he was that way, emotional warmth and touch just weren’t in his niche range of abilities. His thumb drew imperfect circles on the kitchen counter, staring at her with any and all outward apology he could muster.

“I didn’t mean that.” She mumbled first, embarrassingly shifting her weight to the other foot while looking up to the ceiling, eyes darting left to right as if to hold back any more upset. She was a lot like Simon that way, although not at all.

“I know.” He replied softly, taking a closing step toward her and placing his hand on the back of her head to pull her to his chest. “I don’t mean to be like this, you know that.” The silence made him look down to gain a nod in response, her gaze zoning out to the kitchen window as he smoothed out her hair.

Simon was never good with words, so he always took to actions that felt even more foreign but they at least allowed for the substitution of his appeasements. “Sorry for swearing at you.” She mumbled, melting into his broad chest.

“Someone has to put me in my place.” The vibration of the words rippled in his chest and she pulled back only to look down at the floor. “You’re a lot like me, you know.” He poked at her ribs, provoking an unwilling laugh that then turned into a smile. “A lot.”

She shrugged, pushing his hands away after they had wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, alright.” Her frown was feigned.

“I promise you.” He turned to continue the dishes, looking back to her over his shoulder. “And your shirt is on the line.” He nodded out the window, watching as she gasped and ran outside like he had found gold.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pays me on the head every now and then.

this is unedited.

#simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #ghost call of duty #cod mw ghost #dad!simon

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xechowritesx · 2 years

Text

made for lovin' you || e.m.

summary → after years of silently pining for your best friend, you finally accept a date at your favorite dive bar. but things never go as planned, do they? alternatively, jealous eddie, too many whiskey shots, and a friendship shattering, almost confession that leads to some delicious smut.

word count → 5.9K (yeah, yeah, i'm a wordy bitch, idk what to tell y'all).

warnings → insufferable pining (a real idiots to lovers), cursing, fucking in the back of eddie's van, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, please!), squirting, daddy kink.

extras → don't really have an excuse of this other than i'm entirely whipped by this man. as always, please give me some feedback! comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated and the askbox is open for requests!

“i literally have nothing to wear.” you protest, for what feels like the hundredth time, sighing heavily with disappointment.

still, you continue shuffling through your rather small selection of clothing, grimacing at the apparent lack of options whilst hoping something suitable will magically manifest itself.

“then don’t go.” eddie immediately suggests, half-chuckling. you brush his comment off with a roll of your eyes, trying instead to focus on putting together a semi-decent outfit.

to say that eddie had been uncharacteristically awkward lately was, in fact, the understatement of the century. the shift in his behavior had began shortly after you agreed to go on a date with none other that jason carver’s right hand man, andy.

from the moment you’d accepted the invitation, eddie had come up with an impressive amount of reasons as to why you had to cancel - it was dumb to start a relationship with graduation just around the corner, andy would undoubtedly try to take advantage of you, and maybe this was all just a mean prank concocted by jason and the entirety of the basketball team.

in turn, you’d done a pretty decent job refuting each and every one of his incessant pleas to bail, somehow managing to produce reasonable, well-thought out rebuttals. but a small fraction of your mind couldn’t help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive behind eddie’s seemingly legitimate concerns.

could it be that eddie was jealous? that the thought of you with another man frustrated him? just as quickly as you had begun to contemplate the idea, you shoved the thoughts to the back of your mind, rationalizing that he was simply being an overprotective best friend. besides, now was certainly not the time to contemplate your rather confusing relationship with eddie.

“oh my god!” you gasped excitedly, a face-splitting grin forming on your lips. you'd finally found your long-lost, favorite pair of leopard pants tossed just behind your laundry hamper.

“what happened?” eddie queried at your sudden excitement.

“i know what i’m gonna wear!” you giggled, collecting a few additional items from your closet. “i’ll be right back!” you added, hurriedly exiting your bedroom.

the trailer you shared with your mother was similar to eddie's and, arguably, far too small for the pair of you. the bathroom, of course, was no different. you shuffled into it sideways, leaning back to shut the door and making quick work of removing your clothes in the cramped space. as you shrugged out of the oversized metallica shirt that hung from your shoulders, you silently wondered where you’d acquired it from, though you were almost certain you’d stolen it from eddie the last time you'd helped him with his laundry.

you quickly slipped into your pants, before tugging on one of your all time favorite belts. you proceeded to squeeze into the only push-up bra you owned and slid into a cropped, black tank top. you took a moment, then, to touch up your makeup - you reapplied some powder, refreshed your black liner, and swiped on mascara. you ultimately decided on a deep, crimson red lipstick, applying it carefully onto your lips. satisfied with your appearance, you head back to your bedroom.

“well, what do ya think?” you ask, hands fidgeting behind your back.

eddie sits at the very edge of your unmade bed, leaning forward and resting his head between his hands. at the sound of your voice, he perks up and takes a moment to inspect your outfit.

his big, doe eyes somehow look larger than ever as he takes in your appearance, slowly raking over every curve and indent of your body. he notes that you’ve opted for an outfit that accentuates your curves, a noticeable shift from your usual repertoire of oversized band tees and hoodies.

you're clad a cropped, black AC/DC tank top that displays a considerable amount of cleavage and skin tight leopard pants that hug your hips and ass firmly. the ornate chain belt you’ve chosen draws attention to your snatched waist as well as your exposed midriff. eddie swallows thickly before meeting your eyes once again.

“you tryin’ to get laid tonight?” the question falls from his lips teasingly, as he effortlessly shifts back to his usual, flirty persona. “cuz you look good enough to eat.” he adds with a mischievous smirk.

“yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants, munson.” you joke in response, actively choosing to ignore the butterflies that have formed in the pit of your stomach.

you watch as eddie pushes up onto his feet, easily towering over you as he closes the distance between you, substantially. you look up at him, swallowing back the faint desire to kiss him, silently wondering why you had agreed to this stupid date in the first place.

“i'm gonna give you a ride,” he doesn’t give you the opportunity to decline, “there’s no way i'm letting you get in a cab lookin’ this good.” he adds.

your relationship with eddie was confusing and nearly impossible to describe, especially in moments like these - caught somewhere between friendly teasing and aggressive flirting. in fact, it'd been this way for as long as you could remember. you definitely weren't dating nor were you lovers, but calling him just a friend felt utterly and completely insufficient.

neither of you ever really acknowledged or discussed the odd dynamic you shared, choosing instead to remain in an uncomfortable in-between; a perpetual game of "will they, won't they" that drove everyone that had the misfortune of being around you absolutely insane.

and, to be perfectly frank, that’s likely why you had accepted such a random date invitation. you were tired, exhausted even, of pining after eddie, year after year, to no avail. graduation was indeed just around the corner, and after giving eddie what felt like plenty of opportunities to make a move, you’d grown incredibly frustrated. you were convinced he did not reciprocate your feelings and that it was finally time to move on.

“whatever you say...” you wink, turning on your heel and heading toward the front door.

eddie watches as you shuffle through the living room, shrugging into a cropped leather jacket he’s sure belongs to your mother. he’s entirely mesmerized by the sway of your hips, inhaling sharply as you bend at the waist to slip into a pair of black platform boots. the position gives him a fantastic view of your ass, one that will no doubt remain etched in his memory for the weeks come. he coughs to shove down the heat that rises up his neck, cramming his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from reaching for you.

“ready?” you smile, looking back to find eddie already looking at you.

there’s an expression strewn across his features that you can’t quite decipher.

“uh, yeah, let’s go.”

the walk to eddie's trailer takes less than a minute, his beat-up van parked crookedly as always. you smile, happy not only to save yourself a cab fare but also to spend a little extra time with eddie. no doubt, his familiar and comforting presence will work to steady your ever increasing nerves.

you both slide into the van with practiced familiarity, a pleasant silence forming between you. as eddie pulls out of the trailer park, you’re already skimming through the expansive music selection nestled in the glove compartment. you easily find the mixtape you’re searching for, one you’d made for him on his birthday a few months ago, handing it over with a pretty please. though eddie’s eyes remain trained on the road ahead, he obliges, taking the tape and slotting it into the player.

the ride to downtown isn’t particularly long but eddie still manages to drag it out as much as he possibly can without drawing suspicion. he drives just under the speed limit, braking as soon as he spots a yellow light, and taking his time at every turn and speed bump. you're entirely unaware, focused instead on adjusting your hair, humming along to the music, and observing the passing scenery. eddie side-eyes you casually, enthralled by your beauty, struggling to formulate a single, believable excuse to turn the car around.

much to his dismay, eddie comes up with nothing, left with no choice but to pull into the dingy parking lot behind the hideout. it's a shitty little dive bar, favored by the older teens of hawkins for its lack of supervision. simply put, as long as you looked of age, ID checks were omitted all together. you had eagerly agreed to meet andy here for your date, the prospect of a couple free drinks and some dancing at your favorite bar enticing you.

as the engine comes to a stop, you realize you’re about fifteen minutes early. eddie hopes you'll wait with him in the car, giving him a few extra moments to come up with something to say. instead, he finds himself cursing internally as he watches you unbuckle and start exiting the van.

“thanks for the ride, munson!” you smile widely, an air of excitement radiating off you.

“anytime, princess.” eddie responds, matching your smile weakly. “keep an eye on your drinks. and be safe!” he urges.

“always am!” you remind him, giving him a small wave and making your way toward the bar’s entrance.

what little nerves you’d felt up to this point increase tenfold as you enter the hideout, hands suddenly clammy and hot. you look around to see if andy has arrived and, much to your relief, he has not. this gives you an opportunity to get yourself settled and pound a few drinks to calm your nerves.

you survey the seated bar area, opting to claim two seats at the very corner, with an excellent vantage point of the entire bar. lloyd, the sole bartender on friday evenings, approaches you with a gentle smile. he's middle aged and incredibly kind, happy to see a familiar face.

“why hello there, pretty lady.” he greets you, as he always does, placing two coasters onto the wooden bar. “i'm assuming you're waitin' for someone?” he adds, motioning to the empty stool you've positioned beside you.

you nod.

“i've got a date.” you explain, wiggling your brows excitedly. lloyd chuckles.

"well, i can't wait to meet the lucky fella.” he grins. “shall i get you the usual while you wait?”

"yes please!" you smile.

by the time lloyd asks if you want a refill, it’s 9:17 PM and andy still hasn't arrived.

and, while there’s slight pity in his tone, lloyd remains as sweet and attentive as ever. he reassures you that he’ll bring you as many refills as you’d like and even goes as far as to offer you a plate of nachos, free of charge. you politely decline, rationalizing to yourself that basketball practice probably ran late and that andy would arrive at any moment. after all, he was only running seventeen minutes behind. and though lloyd nods in agreement, you can’t help the total humiliation you feel.

each minute feels god damn near eternal, ticking by slowly and tauntingly. your nerves and excitement steadily morph into a sinking feeling that you’ve been stood up.

it had all felt too good to be true - a conventionally attractive jock asking you out, whilst you were clad in a hellfire club t-shirt and sat next to the recently acquitted murder suspect and town pariah, eddie munson, who you happened to call your best friend.

still, you had agreed to the date, undoubtedly encouraged to do so both by your high consumption of cheesy rom-coms and the burning desire to finally get over eddie. your thoughts spiral, uncontrollably, as you remember how hard eddie had tried to dissuade from this date. you realize, suddenly, he’d been trying to protect you from precisely this outcome.

by 9:32 PM, you shamefully begin collecting your belongings and tossing some cash onto the bar, when you’re interrupted by a familiar voice.

“sorry i’m late, sweetheart.” eddie makes a big show of apologizing, his voice loud enough for everyone in a considerable distance from you to hear.

actually, you’re sure the entire bar hears.

“eddie…” though you're surprised by his sudden appearance, you can’t help the smile of relief that moves across your lips as you look up to meet his eyes. you take him in, fully, noticing he’s shed his earlier casual look for one that’s a little more dressed up.

he's clad in a deep burgundy button up, which remains undone dangerously low, revealing much of his pale, tattooed chest. it's tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans that cling to him in all the right ways. he's topped off the look with his usual worn out leather jacket, matching black leather boots, and his signature silver rings. you finally manage to tear your gaze away from his body and meet his eyes.

“like what you see?” he teases, with a wiggle of his brows as he slides into the stool beside yours. he casually wraps his arm around the back of your stool and you unconsciously lean into him, happy to feel the warmth radiating from his frame.

“you know i do.” you manage to tease back, licking your lips as you speak. “will do a shot with me?” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. you do your best to look adorable, pouting your lip in the way you always do when you want something.

“whatever ya want, princess.” eddie is smiling, radiantly, and calling over lloyd.

one shot turns into several. you find yourself happily wrapped in eddie’s arms, swaying rhythmically on the makeshift dance floor in the center of the bar.

eddie's massive hands are warm on your waist, guiding you with ease to the beat that reverberates from the massive speakers. in turn, your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. while you’re certainly not drunk, there’s a noticeable, warm buzz thrumming through your body, one that’s gently dulled the ache of having been stood up. though, you suppose that eddie also had something to do with it.

“how’d ya know i got stood up?” you ask curiously, realizing that eddie had arrived out of the blue, with near impeccable timing.

“what do you mean?” he looks down at you with confusion. you roll your eyes.

“you showed up without me calling,” you explain, “so i’m wondering how you knew andy never showed."

“ah,” eddie pauses, he hesitates, briefly, “i actually had no idea you’d been stood up.” your curiosity quickly turns to confusion.

“then why did you show up?”

there’s a brief, noticeable lull in the conversation as eddie quietly contemplates his response. you feel him tug you closer, his gaze meeting yours almost sheepishly.

“i was fully intending on crashing your date.” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. “had a whole speech and everything.”

“you were gonna crash my date?” your mind is suddenly racing, heart beating faster and faster with each word. “why?”

eddie sighs heavily, wondering how you could be so impossibly oblivious. what little courage he’d managed to muster up until this point begins to leave his body, abruptly so. he stops swaying, stilling the both of you. his hands remain firmly on your waist as his bottom lip tugs between his teeth.

“don’t make me say it.” eddie pleas, softly, eyes wide and affectionate. “you know why.” he tries, leaning impossibly closer, his lips mere centimeters from your own.

his eyes remain trained on yours, a faint smile across his features as he lovingly watches the gears turning in your mind.

oh.

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, knocking the very air out of your lungs. it happening. it's finally, fucking happening.

eddie doesn't give you much time to contemplate or process what he's essentially almost confessed, instead, he's pressing his lips tentatively against your own. his movements are gentle and unsure, almost as if he's testing the limits. but his lips, god, his lips - they're soft and plush, yet still firm as they press into yours.

you hesitate, only momentarily, as your brain short-circuits. all the while, eddie's grinning against your lips, using your surprise to his advantage. he takes the lead, with confident ease, using the opportunity to find his way past your lips. his tongue is warm as it teasingly drags against yours, his slender fingers pressing and exploring the exposed skin of your midriff.

you're breathless, trying to keep up with eddie, using your hands to find purchase in his frizzy, messy curls. eddie grunts as you tug, delving into your mouth with such fervor it's as if you're the very source of oxygen keeping him alive. a low moan escapes you as his hands move to your ass, only to be interrupted by lloyd's disgruntled voice.

"ay! ay! lovebirds!" lloyd shouts, instantly catching your attention. you break apart, managing to steal a glance at eddie as you do - he's all smiles and sparkling eyes. meanwhile, you can feel yourself turning several shades of cartoonish red that feel humanly impossible.

"yeah?" eddie chuckles, nervously shifting his weight between the balls of his feet. he keeps an arm around your waist, holding you to his side.

"as happy as i am to finally see you two together," lloyd confesses fondly, motioning between you, "let's keep it family friendly, yeah?"

you snort, left hand shooting up to your mouth in a vain attempt to hold back your laughter. eddie's just as giddy, a ball of energy, practically vibrating beside you, waiting to explode.

"my bad, lloyd!" you try, offering him the most innocent smile you can manage. eddie watches you with nothing but adoration as you wave a hand apologetically in lloyd's direction.

"yeah, we were just about to head out, actually." eddie announces, smiling like a bumbling idiot. he's quick to take your hand, intertwining your fingers effortlessly, as he guides you toward the bar.

without so much as another word, eddie is tossing several bills down onto the bar and gathering your belongings. you follow suit, mindlessly so, entirely enthralled by his presence. even now, as he's half-rushing you out the door, eyes as wild as his hair, there's a radiance about him that sends butterflies bursting through your stomach.

"slow down!" you giggle, half-stumbling over your feet as you trail behind eddie. he's eagerly making a beeline for the van, turning back and smiling at you in a way that makes it impossible to be mad at him.

"slow down?" eddie repeats in disbelief, as if you've just asked him the most ridiculous question he's ever heard. "i've been wanting to kiss you for as long as i can remember, y/n," he confesses, nearly out of breath, "gonna need more."

for a second time that evening, eddie's words have left you completely and utterly speechless. he ushers you carefully into the back of his van, shutting the doors behind himself, and climbing over your form. you fall back onto a disarray of discarded clothing and blankets strewn about, leaning back onto your elbows to really look at him. he hovers, briefly, almost as if awaiting permission.

"think i've been waiting just as long, eddie." you admit, like a blushing school girl.

eddie's smiling as you're speaking, chuckling before he's closing the space between you. his movements are deliberate, now, as he presses against you in a bruising kiss that sends electricity shooting through both your bodies. it's all tongue and teeth, with clumsy hands eagerly exploring new territory. your legs wrap around his waist as he slots himself between them, his mouth moving past your lips. he kisses your skin as he descends down the line of your jaw and settles at the crook of your neck.

the sounds that leave your mouth are sinful, shit, they're down right poronographic, and eddie can't get enough. he attaches himself to your neck, sucking, nibbling, and marking your skin with love bites and bruises. your nails dig into his shoulder blades and he can't help but rut himself against you, his erection growing with each moan and whimper he's able to draw from your lips.

"eddie..." you're gasping for breath, completely and unabashedly wrecked.

if it were anyone else, you'd be ashamed of how desperate you sound. but it's you, and it's eddie, and it's years of pinning and wishing and hoping finally coming to fruition.

"don't worry, i gotcha, princess." eddie promises against your abused skin, making his way back up to your lips.

eddie kisses you with a sense of urgency that has you absolutely buzzing, your body arching up into his, begging for more. he steadies you with shaky hands, his movements revealing he's just as desperate as you feel. his chest is rising and falling rapidly with ragged breaths, his warm, inviting pupils blown wide with lust.

every touch, every kiss, every sensation is far better than any dream or fantasy your imagination has concocted over the years. and by the way eddie's erection remains firmly pressed into your inner thigh, you know the sentiment is mutual. he unexpectedly pulls back, fully separating your bodies, and taking a brief moment to commit you to memory. he sits back on his heels, frantically pushing the hair out of his eyes to carefully observe you.

you're a complete mess - red lipstick and runny mascara smeared across your skin, lips swollen and wet from kissing. your hair is sprawled around you, like a makeshift crown of sorts, chest heaving with broken breathing. eddie decides, then and there, that you are the most beautiful person he has ever had the privilege of knowing.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you're hyper-aware of his gaze, the way his eyes move up and down your body.

"because i'm so fucking in love with you." eddie concedes, with a playful chuckle and goofy grin across his lips. you're positive your heart finally bursts at his words, a face-splitting grin moves across your lips.

"do remember freshman year, when i confessed i liked the beatles and you learned hey jude because it was my favorite song?" your question catches him entirely off-guard, yet he nods, remembering all too well. "that's when i knew i was in love with you. still am. not sure why i agreed to this date." you ramble, hiding your face behind your hands.

eddie is quick to remove them, pecking kisses across your cheeks, down your nose, and onto your lips. these kisses are different than before, playful and immature. he's smiling as he continues the attack on your face, eyes gleaming in a way you'd never seen before.

"this isn't ideal," eddie hesitates, nervous and unsure. "we're in the back of my shitty van, it smells like weed and my dirty laundry, and we've been sucking face like horny teenagers." he pauses, briefly, as you both laugh. "but i mean it, y/n." he struggles to repeat his earlier confession, but quickly realizes he doesn't have to. not when you're smiling up at him, nodding with a knowing expression.

"i know, eds." you reassure him, reaching up to caress his face in an affectionate gesture. he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. "but if you don't fuck me soon, i'm gonna think you're lying and ask andy out on a second date." you add, playful as ever.

"jesus fucking christ, y/n!" eddie's grunting and laughing, already leaning into you. "you're gonna be the death of me."

you watch, eagerly and without protest, as eddie positions himself comfortably between your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. his hands find you like pulling magnets, holding you tightly and tugging you into him as he finally reunites your lips.

you both move frantically, now, having finally acknowledged the unspoken feelings between you. and eddie becomes a man possessed, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring and asserting dominance with ease. he begins dry humping you in earnest, his thrusts matching the rhythm of lips.

"eddie," you moan, "please." your hands tug at his shirt as you grind your hips up to meet each of his thrusts.

it's entirely embarrassing to contemplate, but you're absolutely soaked, cunt clenching around nothing as you move in perfect tandem with eddie, chasing the pleasure that begins to invade your senses.

"please, what?" he hums against your lips, expertly guiding your movements.

despite the layers of clothing separating you, eddie's cock somehow manages to catch your clit with each thrust. your head involuntarily lulls back, eyes fluttering closed as eddie gradually increases the speed of his thrusts.

"tell me what you need, baby girl." he instructs, watching hungrily as your expression contorts in pleasure. the sounds and expressions you make are so much better than anything he's ever imagined and he hasn't even made you cum yet.

"please..." you repeat, again and again, like a broken prayer, unable to form a coherent response. you figure he'll understand, leaning forward to find his lips.

instead, eddie quickly and harshly tugs you back by the hair, looking down at you with a dimpled smirk that sends waves of anticipation and arousal coursing through your frame.

"use your words, princess." eddie tuts, licking his lips as he halts his movements all together.

you whine as he holds you in place, entirely still, audibly protesting as he hovers above you. the sudden lack of contact is unbearably sobering and you find yourself trying to grind back up into him. he only chuckles, holding you in place with ease, watching you expectantly. his hands are firm against your waist, powerful even, and you're positive you'll have marks in the morning. the thought thrills you.

"no more until you use your words, pretty girl." eddie insists. "you gotta tell me what you need."

"need you to touch me." you're gasping as you speak, struggling against eddie's unrelenting grip. he smirks. "need you to fuck me, eds."

the way you say his name, so fucking wrecked, the way you look up at him, with lust-blown eyes, it's all too much.

finally, and much to your relief, eddies relents and resumes kissing you. he shifts his attention, however, nestling himself between your legs and kissing his way down your body. you're practically writhing beneath him, hands carding through his curls, trying to gain purchase.

"eds, baby, please." you whine as his mouth latches onto the skin just beside your navel, sucking and biting hungrily. his nimble fingers make quick work of your chain belt, finding the waistband of your pants and tugging impatiently.

"up." eddie grunts, tapping your hips. you oblige, leaning back onto your shoulder blades so that he can remove your pants. "are you fucking kidding me?" eddie groans in lustful disbelief at realization that you're not wearing any panties. he very nearly creams himself as he rips the leopard pants off your body and tosses the offending material aside with little care.

before you can fully comprehend what's happening, eddie is alternating between kissing your inner thighs and dragging his tongue slowly over your heated skin. you're jerking at the sensation, tugging his hair impatiently, trying to keep what little of your sanity you have left.

"oh my god..." you breathe, brokenly, as eddie presses his thumb experimentally against your clit. he circles the bundle of nerves slowly, mouth still working up and down your thighs, as he sets an unforgiving pace.

"can i taste you?" he looks up at you with those big doe eyes, licking his lips in what can only be described as hunger. you're nodding, furiously, because you don't trust your voice.

eddie finally dips down and laps at your folds, tongue hot and heavy as it teases your hole. he showers you with affection, kissing and sucking every inch of your pussy as his index finger pushes into you. he finally wraps his lips around your clit, sucking the nub deliciously, and pushes a second finger into you.

you're sliding your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots, knees buckling as you grow weaker with each of his movements. he reads you like a book, alternating between lapping at your hole and sucking your clit, curling and scissoring his fingers expertly inside you, pushing you steadily toward orgasm. you're so incredibly worked up you're practically vibrating around his fingers, walls clenching and contracting.

eddie's fingers are dragging inside you, pushing and pulling all at once, steadily firm with pressure. he bends and pushes them down just right, working tirelessly to help you climax. in turn, you've lost all sense of your surroundings, repeating his name like mantra, over and over, nearly choking.

"eddie, eds, i'm so close..." you manage, tears brimming your eyes as your stomach tightens with familiar pressure.

eddie doesn't back off, no, instead, he's increasing his pace. his swollen lips drag over your folds as he alternates between wrapping himself around your clit and showing love to your entrance. you're hips move of their own accord, riding his tongue, thighs wrapping tightly around his head.

you climax, screaming eddie's name loud enough to wake the dead. his hands on your waist are the only thing grounding you in reality, a firm reminder this isn't all some incredibly vivid daydream. your body is limp and entirely overwhelmed, head rolling back and eyes fluttering closed. eddie watches your thighs, still shaking, as he laps up the remnants of your orgasm.

"god fucking damn it," you chuckle, "that was the best orgasm of my life." eddie smirks, entirely satisfied with how thoroughly he's made you fall apart.

"best orgasm of your life?" eddie repeats, chin and mouth glistening with a mixture of your arousal and climax. he's never looked hotter.

you reach out for eddie, despite the exhaustion you feel, palming his erection through the fabric of his jeans. you're applying just the right amount of pressure to the underside of his cock and eddie's twitching, rutting and thrusting against your hand, taking any relief he can get from you.

"still need you to fuck me, eds." you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.

there's a shift in the atmosphere, the air thick with anticipation.

eddie's nodding mindlessly, hands fumbling awkwardly with his belt and jeans. you giggle as you help him, tugging the material and aiding him as he kicks off his boots, followed by his jeans, and briefs. a small gasp falls form your lips at the sight of eddie's unclothed cock, long and hard, slightly curved to the left.

"you ready for me, baby girl?" eddie smiles down at you, gently. you're absolutely beaming in post-orgasm glow, nodding eagerly.

eddie leans down and finds you lips yet again, taking you in a gentle and passionate kiss. as his tongue explores your mouth, he drags the head of his dick up and down your soaking folds, collecting as much slick as he can before he's pushing against your entrance. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him as close as you can, legs wrapping around his waist.

a guttural moan leaves the both of you as eddie begins sliding into you, his thick, hard length dragging deliciously deeper and deeper into you. despite your previous climax, your walls still struggle to take him in, stretching to accept his impressive size.

"god, you feel so fucking good." eddie emphasizes, his voice almost unrecognizable, deep and destroyed. he stills himself, once he's at the hilt, giving your body an opportunity to adjust.

you're grateful for the reprieve he offers you, shakily breathing through the dull pain, inhaling and exhaling as your body gets used to the feeling of eddie inside you. he's buried himself in the crook of your neck, cursing against your skin, throbbing inside you.

"you okay, y/n?" eddie asks, you grind your hips up in response.

"eddie, move, please."

eddie, ever the gentleman, obliges, setting a slow, passionate pace. his thrusts are gentle and loving, every inch of his cock deliberate and calculated. and while his pace is slow, it's powerful nonetheless. the finesse of his hips has you moaning, creating tight knots in the pit of your stomach once more.

"faster, need you to move faster." you beg, chasing the feeling of pleasure that crashes through you.

"i gotcha, y/n, i gotcha." eddie hums, increasing both the speed and force of his thrusts.

the van shakes at eddie's sheer force, the windows fogged, air humid. his hips are relentless, the sound of your slick folds and his balls slapping against your cunt intermingling and resounding loudly all around you. your body reacts favorably to the new pace, convulsing with sheer ecstasy. eddie's grunting and cursing as your pussy sucks him in, swallowing him whole with each thrust and contracting around him. he's driving you back with each thrust, the top of your head making repeated contact with the center console between the driver and passenger seats.

"i'm getting close..." you moan, nails digging into eddie's shoulder blades.

"don't cum until i fucking tell you," eddie commands, finding your gaze, "wait for daddy."

that word, so filthy and dirty, falling from eddie's swollen, bruised lips, as he's balls deep inside you, sends you into overdrive. you're silently talking yourself down, gripping onto eddie, forcefully trying to keep yourself from climaxing. eddie, in turn, only grows more unhinged, chasing his own high, hitching your right leg onto his left shoulder.

"almost there, baby girl, i'm close." eddie reassures you between grunts and there's tears streaming down your face.

"need to cum, daddy, please." you're sobbing now, voice ragged and hoarse.

eddie can feel you shaking against him, body contorting, desperate to feel release. you're arching up against him, harder with each thrust, tits pressing deliciously into his chest. he slots a hand between your bodies, finding your clit with ease and swirling his thumb sinfully against it.

"cum for me, y/n." eddie finally allows, thrusts growing sloppier and infinitely more primal. "say my name."

"eddie!" you're screaming, like a goddamn banshee as your climax hits. you tighten and clamp down around eddie's cock, squirting your release all over yourself and eddie.

"fuck...." the feeling is unlike anything eddie has ever experienced and it shocks him to the core. his thrusts stutter, momentarily, before he's spilling into you, hot, white cum filling you deliciously. he rides out his orgasm, worsening your sensitivity, watching you in disbelief as he finally stills his hips.

"that was..." you try, eddie pecking your lips lovingly.

"that was definitely the best orgasm of your life." he chuckles, smirking. "and mine."

before you get an opportunity to respond, the back door of the van is being tugged open and eddie is scrambling to cover your exposed body.

"freak, have you seen-" you scream with surprise, eyes widening at the sight of a horrified andy looking on. "what the fuck, y/n?" andy's shouting now, too, covering his eyes as he swings shut and slams the van door.

you look up at eddie and you're both bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, cheeks red with a mixture of embarrassment and post-coital exertion. you cannot believe that andy actually showed up, nearly an hour and half late, to find you naked and tangled between eddie's legs.

"should i chase after him and ask him for a second date?" you joke, gently pushing back a few stray curls from eddie's eyes.

"yeah right," eddie bites back, grinning, "as if i'd share my girl with that jackass."

eddie falls, entirely spent, beside you, tugging you into his chest and wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders. you, in turn, wrap an arm around his waist and lay on his chest, craning your neck to look up at him.

"your girl?"

"yeah," eddie is beaming, "my girl."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #reader insert #smut #got a little carried away with this one lol #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

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royaltozaki · 27 days

Text

sun-kissed

bachelorette series - trailer • part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

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could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

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the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks as she overheard sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunrise.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x f!reader #sana x fem!reader #twice x reader #twice x f!reader #twice x fem!reader #twice imagines #sana imagines #royaltozaki

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

Note

hi! so i loved the whats in between fic (because everyone does) and i wanted to ask if you could write something like the spiderteens watches broke and they cant get back home so instead of waiting it out in the spider society place they go to miguel and readers house and sleep over! and ofc miguel complaining about just having them fix the watches but that would take too long

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Miles is on a mission that ends up going awry right as it's about to end, and with his watch shattered there's no way to get back home. The answer? Stay at you and Miguel's shared home for the night :3

Warnings: None!! It's really fluffy, Miguel is soft with Miles (I'm sorry I couldn't help it hhhh)

It's late at night as Miles walks through the Spider Society HQ. Far too late for anyone to still be around, everyone was already at home in their own universes. He on the other hand was coming back from a mission that went awry.

It was supposed to be easy. Pop in, pack up the anomaly and head back to drop them off before going home. But for the last 7 hours the villain managed to evade his grasp until he finally cornered them on the edge of town at a shipping dock. But somehow on the trip back to HQ the villain managed to escape both the webbing they were stuck in and the force field keeping them trapped.

Had it not been for the fact that the villain glitched out mid-fight, HQ might be a lot worse for wear than it was. Luckily Miles managed to recapture the villain and place them into the holding area, but not without a cost.

In his hands was his watch, broken to pieces. He already loathed the lashing out he was about to receive from the Leader of the Society, but since there was no way for him to get home otherwise there was no avoiding the conversation.

Making his way through the doorway, he’s surprised to see you analyzing the screens instead of Miguel, having already mentally prepared for the scolding he was about to receive.

Right before he was about to open his mouth to speak, his form glitches out as he groans in pain, his atoms clearly unhappy to be existing in a universe that wasn’t his own.

“Miles!” you say, concern washing over your expression as you finally take note of him. Swinging down from the platform, you grasp his shoulders keeping him upright. “Are you alright? Is there something wrong with your watch?” you ask as you check him over like a worried mother.

“Something wrong? More like it's in multiple different pieces,” Lyla says, popping up behind him and looking at the broken watch he was trying to hide.

Miles’ expression grows even more sheepish as he brings his hands around to show you.

“I’m really sorry, the anomaly I was trying to capture escaped the trap somehow on the way back to HQ,” he says, and your eyes widen as you glance back to your screens. At that moment his body glitches out again, and you look at him worriedly. Then your expression brightens as you remember something.

“Give me one sec, sweetie,” you say with a kind smile before swinging back up toward the platform. Searching around, you reach into Miguel’s top drawer and find just what you were looking for.

“Hey Miles, catch!” you say, tossing him the bracelet. The Spider Society ‘Day Pass’ as Peter liked to call it. Relief immediately washes over his face as he slips the bracelet on, and he says a small ‘thank you’ as you swing back to his level.

“You don’t happen to have any spare watches lying around, do you?” he asks, shuffling back and forth on his feet. A nervous tick you seem to have picked on in the time you have known him.

“Typically we do…but Jess brought in a few new recruits the other day so we just ran out. Lyla, what’s the status on the production of those new watches?” you ask, and she pops over onto your shoulder as she scrolls through her own screens.

“Hm…it should be about another 16 hours until they’re done. We had to have some parts shipped in from the city which put them behind schedule,” she explains.

“Usually we would just fix it for you rather than you getting a brand new watch, but considering the state of yours…” you say, taking the broken watch into your own hands. The screen was shattered, the wristband was practically nonexistent and somehow the circuit board was hanging out in pieces.

“What on Earth even happened to this? Did the anomaly chew it up and spit it out again or something,” you say with a laugh, and Miles only chuckles nervously.

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what happened,” he winces, and you only laugh harder for a few moments before pulling yourself together, your expression becoming a touch more serious.

“You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” you worry over him, turning him from side to side to check him over. You had a soft spot for the young Spiders here at the society and weren’t afraid to show it. Miguel had one too, though he loathed to admit it.

“No, I’m alright. It’s just my watch that isn’t,” he says, and you smile at him understandingly.

“Alright, but if I sense that you’re lying to me you’re heading straight to the infirmary young man, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he says, and you laugh softly.

“Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old,” you say.

“Sorry, ma’am! Wait…” his eyes widen slightly as he realizes his mistake. You only snort.

“We’ll work on it, Miles,” you grin. “The only issue right now is how to get you home…Lyla, is there anyone still at HQ? I left my watch at home since I thought I’d only be staying on base today,” you ask.

“Nope! Sorry, ma’am,” she says jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at her playfully. “Everyone’s missions finished up early today, Miles was the last one back.”

“Damn,” you say as you run through things you could do.

“Since there’s no way to get you back to your universe until the watches finish up…since it’s not too long, how would you feel about staying at me and Miguel’s house for the night? I was about to head back when you came in,” you suggest, and Miles’ face drops at the suggestion.

“Yours and Miguel’s house?” he asks. He knew the two of you were together, you had revealed you were married a few months back but he didn’t think he would be staying at your shared home.

“No offence, but there is no way Miguel would be happy to have somebody staying the night, let alone me,” he says quickly, and you give him a sympathetic look.

“Well, it's a good thing it's not only his house, it's mine too. And I’m inviting you to stay the night, okay? I don’t want you staying at HQ alone, there’s nowhere to sleep unless you want to rest on a hard pillar all night and we have a guest room you can stay at,” you explain, but Miles’ expression is still unsure.

“Look, I know the two of you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot when you first met, but I can give you my word when I say that you are one of the few people he tolerates even if he doesn’t show it. Okay Miles?” you say, and while he doesn’t look like he fully believes you quite yet, he finally relents.

“Alright,” he says, and you pat his shoulder warmly.

“Alright,” you say with a smile. “C’mon, let’s head to my car and we’ll head back to my place, yeah?”

“He won’t be angry that I’m there…right?” Miles asks as he fidgets a bit as he settles into the passenger seat.

“Not on my watch,” you chuckle. “He had the day off, he should be in a great mood. But you know, a lot of his anger is just a front for the things he’s been through. He doesn’t like people getting close to him, and while I admit it isn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, we all deal with grief differently. Do you get what I mean?” you explain as you drive back home.

“Yeah…yeah, I do,” he says softly, and you smile sympathetically as you glance over at him.

Despite the good work that everyone does at the Spider Society, being heroes in their own worlds, they all have some of the most difficult lives. Filled with suffering, grief, secrets and loss. It was the lives they were dealt by the hands of fate, and though that fate is shared across the multiverse it didn’t make it any less hard.

“He’s hard on you and your friends because you’re young and he thinks he can mould you into the heroes he wants you to be, which isn’t right and I tell him that often. But it also means he thinks you all have greater potential beyond what you can see, and he does care…even if he struggles to show it. Don’t worry too much, sweetheart,” you say. You knew you were rambling, but you just wanted to ease his worries at least a bit. He nods before his stomach interrupts the conversation.

You laugh a bit as a flustered expression washes over his face.

“Hungry? I’ll whip up something for a late-night dinner, I’m pretty hungry myself. How does that sound?” you say warmly, and he nods.

“…Thank you, really. I’m grateful you’re doing all this for me, you really didn’t have to,” he says, and you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it, Miles. I quite adore you and your little friends, even if you do get up to the most trouble,” you say, memories of them and all their pranks around HQ playing through your head as you pull up to your driveway.

The house was a bit outside of the main city, somewhere quiet and less industrial than the heart of Nueva York. The lights were still on in the living room, indicating that Miguel hadn’t yet gone to bed which was to be expected. He always waited up for you to come home, (not to mention he had the worst sleep schedule).

“C’mon sweetheart,” you say, stepping out of the car. But you notice Miles’ expression, looking absolutely terrified even though he tried his best to hide it. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Miles, you’ve been here before. I promise it’s alright, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, finally smiling a bit.

You both walk up the front steps, and you unlock the door like you’ve done so many times before.

“Mi vida,” you hear Miguel’s voice say as he appears around the corner. It washes over you like a warm summer breeze, and you feel the tension leave your body as you finally return home. You can’t help the soft smile that plays across your face.

“Hello, darling,” you say, and he can’t help but smile back.

“Now…I know I didn’t give you a heads up but,” you say as you pull Miles out from where he was hiding behind the front door. Immediately Miguel’s expression drops slightly, not so much in anger but more so in annoyance that there was someone there to interrupt his time with his wife.

“Before you say anything, Miles’ watch broke on the way back from a mission, and you know that the new watches are still in production since we ran out a few days ago so I figured since they would be done relatively soon, he can stay the night and head back to his universe in the morning?” you say, not so much asking but telling him much to his dismay.

For a moment he only sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at you. He could never stay upset at you, at least not for long.

“While a warning would have been nice, mi alma,” he scolds lightly, and you grin sheepishly.

“You can stay the night Miles, though it would do you well to not break any more watches in the future,” he chastises, and Miles straightens up almost comically.

“Yes, sir! I’m really sorry about that, the villain managed to escape the trap somehow and managed to bite it off of my arm before I could get away, and then it got really hectic back at HQ but don’t worry though because there isn’t too much damage, and I managed to clean up the most of it but there might still be some debris around and-” he rambles nervously, but Miguel’s snort of amusement interrupts him.

“Look kid, I get it. Mistakes happen, just don’t make it a point to break Society's property too often, yeah?” Miguel says a kind expression on his face that soothes Miles’ nerves.

“Yes, sir!” he says immediately.

“Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old. Miguel is fine,” he replied, and you laugh slightly at the fact that you said the same thing earlier.

“Come inside already Miles, or are you planning to spend the night on our porch,” you say, pulling him in gently by the wrist.

“Are gorditas alright? I know they’re not exactly dinner food but I’m craving them,” you ask him, noticing Miguel’s expression light up at the mention of them, almost identical to the expression on Miles’ face.

“Gorditas? They’re my favourite!” Miles says, and you smile as you head into the kitchen to whip them up.

“Behave, you two!” you call out as you leave them to their own devices in the living room.

Before long, the late dinner is served. Small talk and banter are tossed around the table as you all eat together, then you usher Miles off to bed like a worried Mother given the late hour before heading off to bed yourself with Miguel by your side.

“That was quite the surprise today, mi vida,” Miguel says as you join him in bed, Miles all settled in the guest room and snoring away.

“I know…but he’s a good kid and I felt bad leaving him at HQ alone,” you say sheepishly, peering up to look at him.

“Lyla’s there…” he trails off, and you smack him playfully.

“Miguel,” you chastise, and he raises his hands in surrender as you snort. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” he says, and you just shake your head with a smile.

“I felt bad, you know?” you say softly, and he turns a bit more to listen to you speak.

“This life we all live here at the Society? It’s hard, especially for the young ones. I didn’t want him to feel alone in a universe that isn’t even his own, this life is lonely enough as is,” you voice your thoughts. It really was hard, living this life and protecting the canon at the expense of other Spiders’ suffering. Anything you could do for them you would do, to make things at least a bit easier. It’s why you were pretty much Miguel’s right hand alongside Jess, you were the gentle touch paired with his cold calculated self.

“You really do have a soft spot for them, don’t you?” Miguel asks, and you chuckle softly.

“I do, but don’t pretend that I don’t notice you do too my love,” you say, and he scoffs slightly before glancing away. But by now you knew that was one of his tells that he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m not soft, querida,” he says, and you give him a knowing look to which he switches off the lights to avoid.

“Whatever you say, tough guy,” you say before snuggling in closer, a content smile on your face as you feel yourself drift off to sleep in his arms.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid,@remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex,@chimpkinnuggies ,@rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose

A/N: I can't help it, Miles is just so precious I had to have the reader be motherly with him lol. Thanks for reading! And I apologize for the delay in requests, it's a teensy bit overwhelming but I promise I am working on them!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 x reader

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themissinghand · 5 months

Note

aahghh i'm happy that your requests r open :33 i want to ask for a Jinwoo x sleepy male/gn reader.. basically the reader falls asleep somewhere but always wake up in the most random places. Bellion has found them sleeping somewhere in the shadow realm more than once and no one knows how they got there. it's actually concerning-

this can either platonic or romantic idc rly

take care!

Solo Leveling: Sleepy Bois are Cute Too!

Summary: 3 times that Jinwoo caught his partner falling asleep on him, and the one time he didn’t. Not in any particular order.

In which Jinwoo is worried, but you reassure him every time.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x sleepy GN! reader

Note: Last one for 2023! Will be back in the new year :)

Warning: None. Just fluffy goodness.

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is worried about your sleeping antics.

He’s worried that when you fall asleep, he will never find you again.

He took all the precautions, making sure there was a shadow soldier by your side when you fall asleep, keeping a tracker on you (with your consent of course!), and even taking you on his missions to ensure you don’t disappear on him.

“Jinwoo-ah, don’t worry, I can protect myself.”

Sure, you were an A-class weapon maker, and yes, you knew how to use your weapons well, but no matter how much you reassure him, Jinwoo is a protective person by nature, knowing how dangerous the world can be.

He also knows how dedicated you are to your craft, spending days on end without sleep or food to create S-class grade weapons for the world to marvel at.

But it was only more of a reason for him to protect you from those greedy hunters and associations!

Perhaps that was where your sleeping habits stem from, the lack of sleep.

It didn’t start off this way, as at the beginning of your relationship, Jinwoo found you cute for dozing off like a baby.

It was during a movie night, where the two of you cuddled on the bed, and holding each others’ hands. You dozed off very shortly after the movie began, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but pull you closer into a hug.

Loving your warmth and the peace you bring, Jinwoo easily fell asleep by your side.

Only to wake up with you not by his side.

In panic, he rushed around the shared home to find you, only to get a call from his sister, and see you at his mom’s house. Apparently, Jinah found you sleeping in Jinwoo’s old room.

“It happens sometimes…but don’t worry! I’m usually safe.” Your reassurance didn’t make Jinwoo feel any better about it.

The next time, it was when the two of you were bathing together.

Jinwoo hummed, satisfied and relaxed, as you washed his hair, scratched his head, and massaged his shoulders. Your voice was soothing, as you told him about your next weapon idea.

Until suddenly, he felt a hard knock onto his back, making him turn around quickly to see you dozing off.

He withheld a snicker before he switched your positions, and had you lay on him.

“(Y/N), how could you sleep in the middle of doing something?” Jinwoo whispered, and although he gently rocked your body, he didn’t bother trying to wake you.

Jinwoo made sure you were comfortable, and finished the bath, before carrying you like a princess to your shared bed.

“Jinwoo?” Your slurred words made him smile, and he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Bedtime, your favourite time is here.”

“Yay~” Your dopey smile made him happy as he covered the both of you with a blanket. Jinwoo snuggled close, and this time, made sure to hold you tight, so you wouldn’t disappear on him again.

Your little snores, and light breathing lured him to sleep.

The next day, you were gone.

This time, he searched the home, and even checked with his mom and sister, but nothing.

This time, he panicked, and immediately searched everywhere for you.

Like a parent who lost their child, he searched far and wide, until he found you sleeping on top of the Korean Hunters Association’s building. He immediately hugged you close, waking you up from your drowsy state.

“Jinwoo? What’s wrong?” You who have just woken up from your long sleep didn’t understand why Jinwoo was hugging you so desperately. You patted his back as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? How did you even get up here?”

“What are you talking about-” Finally registering your current location, you were shocked.

“This isn’t our home.”

When Jinwoo registered your confusion, then acceptance (almost too easily), he couldn’t help but feel helpless. If you didn’t know how you got here, and he didn’t sense your disappearance twice in a row, Jinwoo knew he had to be careful.

This was when you and him talked of the dangers and of the precautions you should take to ensure your safety.

One time, Jinwoo had a nightmare.

Of the times where he was still an E-class hunter, where he was still weak, poor, and helpless.

Of the times where he had nothing to his name, but only shame and disappointment.

He felt powerless, feeling the shadow of a cold blade cutting into his flesh and warm blood spill from his body.

“Jinwoo!”

He woke up to you calling his name and wiping his face.

“Jinwoo! Are you okay-” Jinwoo hugged you tightly, knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment, as he inhaled your scent.

He then noticed you wearing his hoodie, clearly oversized for you, and your messy bed hair.

Then he remembers you, who had taught him how to use different weapons, and how to not get scammed by weapon dealers.

From then till now, you have supported him, and he has found your talent in return.

“There there, my little king.” Jinwoo smiled as he felt little pats to his back, and kissed the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Always.”

The next time, when you disappeared, Jinwoo knew where you were immediately.

He didn’t panic, nor did he fret, though this time, he really did question your abilities as an A-class weapon maker.

Were you really an A-class hunter at this point?

Jinwoo observed, perplexed, as you once again emerged from an unexpected slumber, this time in the shadow realm.

With a yawn, you flipped to the other side on the throne, and without any sense of danger, you curlled into a ball, and fell asleep again.

Jinwoo quickly went over to you on the throne, and picked you up, before sitting down and placing you in his lap. He made sure you were comfortable before he looked to Bellion for any explanation.

“My Liege, I…have no excuses. I was unable to sense any changes in the shadow realm and was unable to find out how Their Highness was able to arrive here.”

Bellion, equally puzzled, knelt before the two of you, ashamed.

“Bellion, stand. It’s not your fault. Even I can't sense when they disappear. But keep others updated on the situation.” Bellion nodded, before standing and leaving you two space.

"How does this keep happening?" Jinwoo asked, and sighed, concern etching onto his face. Even so, he caressed your cheek, and woke you from your slumber.

Like a cat, he saw you scrunch up your face, and even pushed his finger away, before popping open one eye.

“Jinwoo? Where am I now?” It became a habit of yours now to observe your surroundings every time you woke up.

“In my realm, in my castle, and on my throne.”

“Huh.” It took a moment for you to process.

“How did I get here?”

“No idea. But I'd rather have you here than outside.”

“Well. This is new.” You ruffled your messy bed hair, before a hand pulled your chin back to face Jinwoo.

“You were sleeping on my throne…were you thinking of me?” Jinwoo’s hand slowly cradled your face as he stared at you with intent.

“Maybe?” You cheekily answered, before replicating the same action back. However, you steal a quick little peck to the corner of his lips.

In the next moment, his mouth lands on yours passionately, completely taking your breath away as he pulls you in further and further, until you’re completely at his mercy.

Pinned to his throne, wearing his oversized black silk pajamas, and puffy lips, you realize that maybe you should learn to control your sleep antics.

#manhwa #gn reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #shadow soldiers #bellion #jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinah #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling fic #s class #sung jin woo x gn reader

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whatsthethinking · 1 year

Text

Somebody's Lover

Neteyam x Fem!Reader

◈ Word count: 3.3k

◈ Warning: n/a? Maybe just Neteyam being in love

◈ Note: Second request :) based on this video? Maybe, I tried. I'm finally getting around to the requests that have been collecting dust in my inbox

◈ Lo’ak version

The elders of the Omatikaya clan were becoming concerned with Neteyam, he was to pass his rites in a matter of weeks and yet, he hasn’t shown any indication of even thinking about choosing a mate. It was no secret that the young Na’vi had many admirers, many fighting amongst themselves to get a sliver of attention from the Olo’keytan’s eldest son.

But none of them seemed to have a chance. Neteyam did not show that he favoured one person over another. Everyone was treated with the same level of respect, and greeted them with perfect manners. Everyone was equal, even if Neteyam didn’t particularly like you.

Some parents would even go as far as having their children befriend Lo’ak or Kiri, even little Tuk and those who were really desperate would seek out Spider but these schemes did not go very far once they were met with Neytiri’s fiery gaze, the protective mother was able to detect their plans from miles away.

It seemed like no one had a chance, Neteyam hadn’t shown interest in anyone within his clan for what seemed like years now, not that anyone was counting. There was a time when the clan thought that Tahé was to be the ‘one’.

Tahé is the eldest daughter of Jake’s most trusted warriors, she would often train alongside Neteyam in their youth and was close to the Sully family growing up but as time went on, it was clear that the Tahé and the Sully children had grown distant. You would no longer see Kiri and Tahé skipping through the forest in search of flowers to weave, or Lo’ak dragging the girl along to get into trouble. You would see Neteyam following clan members around, learning how to forage for food, Tahé would be trailing behind him with a dazed look on her face as Neteyam soaked up all of the information.

But, it was clear that the distance started to form once Tahé had started making friends with the older children in the clan. Those older children would take time out of their day to bully Kiri and Lo’ak for being different, Tahé standing behind them not saying a word. More often than not, it would be Neteyam stepping in to put an end to the teasing, Tahé would bat her eyelashes, dismissing her new friend’s behaviour but Neteyam isn’t stupid, nor is he deaf. He could hear the teasing, he could hear his siblings cry at night. As much as Neteyam disliked the girl, he knew he had to keep up appearances and bite his tongue.

And tonight was no different, the clan was having a communal dinner to celebrate this week's very successful hunt, one that Neteyam had taken part in and was being praised for. Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk sat to Neytiri’s left, conversing with her and their grandmother. Neteyam had been sandwiched between his father and Tahé, Tahé’s father and mother beside her.

“You should be proud of yourself, Neteyam. I was told you worked extremely hard today.” Tahé’s father praised.

“Thank you, sir.” Neteyam replied looking down at his food, “Everyone worked hard.”

“Yes, yes. But you made two sturmbeest kills mere seconds apart from each other.”

“You did?” Tahé’s eyes lit up, “you’re very talented, maybe you can teach me how you did it?”

Even though Tahé’s voice filled the air, Neteyam didn’t hear her, he was too focused on the events happening in the distance. A Na’vi girl his age was swatting a Na’vi boy's hand away from her food, while their parents ignored them, indicating this was a common occurrence.

The boy stopped his antics when his eyes met Neteyam’s, the boy’s face broke out into a large grin as he waved his hand above his head enthusiastically. The older girl rolled her eyes dramatically before offering a smile in Neteyam’s direction which he returned.

“He would love to,” Jake started, looking at Neteyam and tapping the boy’s arm to regain his attention, “isn’t that right Neteyam?”

Neteyam’s face flushed as he had been caught not paying attention to the conversation. He looked at his father for any indication of what was happening but he was just met with his father’s smirk and a twinkle of mischief in his eye that Neytiri would suggest meant he was up to no good.

“I guess?”

“Great! Tomorrow?” Tahé questioned, clearly not sensing that the boy was not interested.

“N-no. Not tomorrow, I have plans.”

“Oh, the day after then?”

Neteyam looked at Tahé and her family, he felt all eyes on him. He was sure he could hear Lo’ak howling at his expense.

“Sure?”

Damn it

Something else about Neteyam that the clan noticed? His inability to say ‘no’.

—

“No,” Neteyam said flatly, adjusting the bow on his chest

“Bro come on, please, dad’s already on my ass for sneaking out after eclipse, just come with me. Please.” Lo’ak all but begged as he watched his brother saddle his ikran

“That’s not my problem, I told you and Spider not to go but you did anyways and now Spider’s wrist is broken, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak looked at his brother in confusion, this side of him was different. Yes, he was used to his brother scolding him or helping him cover up his antics or coming along so no one got hurt, but in the past months, Neteyam had been brushing off his plans to cause trouble.

“You’re gonna ditch me for Tahé, aren’t you? That’s low.”

“Tahé?” Neteyam’s face contorted in confusion, “why would I ditch you for her?”

“You don’t remember?” Lo’ak stared at his brother in disbelief, “You really don’t remember. Oh my. You agreed to help her with hunting or whatever today. She’s been running around telling everyone it’s a date or something. You would know that if you were around yesterday.”

Neteyam lept onto his ikran forming the bond and getting comfortable, “I’ll reschedule.”

Before Lo’ak could make a snide comment, Neteyam and his ikran took off into the sky.

“Oh, I can not wait to see her face.” Lo’ak smiles cheekily as he walks off, excited to tell his old friend that the love of her life stood her up.

—

“You need to hold the bow like this or you’ll drop the arrows.”

Neteyam nodded trying to focus on the instructions being given to him, but he was distracted by his teachers' close proximity.

Y/n circled Neteyam before stopping beside him, adjusting his fingers and stepping back.

“Okay, shoot.”

Neteyam took a deep breath before releasing the two arrows, both arrows had hit way off centre, one was right at the edge of the target, a small breeze could send the arrow hurtling into the bush beside it.

“Oh?”

“Shut it,” Neteyam blushed, shooting two arrows at once was harder than the girl before him made it seem.

Y/n quickly retrieved the arrows and made her way back towards Neteyam, a teasing smile on her lips, “looks like the mighty warrior needs more practice.”

Neteyam reached a hand out, placing it on top of y/n’s that were wrapped around the two arrows and pulled her forward gently until she was standing directly in front of him

“I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Neteyam smiled sweetly, taking in his lover's face.

When he was with y/n it was like time stood still and nothing around him mattered. Being with y/n he felt like he could be himself, he could relax, there was no one to impress, no one holding him to a high standard. Being with y/n he felt nervous but also with her, he felt at peace.

Neteyam leaned down slightly and y/n closed the gap, Neteyam’s hand moved up and gently held the side of her head as their lips met. Y/n’s free hand held Neteyam’s arm, her fingers giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

Neteyam could feel his heart pick up speed as y/n dropped her arrows and raised her hands to rest them on his shoulders and then slowly around his neck. He followed suit and dropped his bow on the ground, bringing his hands to her waist.

The sound of his ikran chittering brought the pair out of their embrace. Neteyam’s face flushed as he suddenly felt shy, not looking y/n in the eye. The girl grinned, bringing a hand to his chin and moving his head so he could meet her gaze.

“Always so shy.” She teased placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Neteyam chuckled under his breath, a hand gently caressing the small of her back, “What can I say? You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/n’s face blushed at the compliment, causing her to look down slightly.

Y/n took Neteyam’s hand, leading him to her ikran. When they arrived, y/n let go of his hand and opened the bag she had attached to its saddle. Reaching in and pulling out a small parcel wrapped in fabric. She handed it to Neteyam, her hands fidgeting nervously as he began to unwrap it.

“I remember that you said you like the one I have, so I made you your own,” Y/n admitted shyly as Neteyam ran a finger over the woven cords and then the stone sitting in the middle.

Neteyam reached around and quickly untied his beaded choker, replacing it with the necklace. When he was sure that it was secure, he grinned at her before placing his hands on either side of her face and dramatically kissing her forehead.

“Mwah!” He exclaimed as she laughed, “I love it.”

—

As Neytiri chopped the vegetables, her ears twitched hearing Jake half-heartedly apologise to Tahé’s father for her eldest son's disappearance. Her eldest son had been disappearing more and more recently. She had an idea what could be going on with Neteyam for the past few months but she felt like she should leave it to him to tell him.

“Neteyam’s back!“ Tuk exclaimed, pointing to the sky, sure enough, Neteyam and his ikran were making a slow descent in the distance, moments later, the boy in question stepped through the low-hanging trees into view. As the boy emerged, Neytiri instantly noticed the change in her son’s appearance, his usual beaded choker that he wore with pride had been replaced with a woven necklace, and his hair had changed too. The beads that resided at the front of his hair were now in a different colour order and there was also an orange feather dangling behind his ear.

The whispering was almost instantaneous but it did not seem to affect Neteyam as he made his way towards the family tent. Passing Jake and Tahé’s father in the process. Seeing him, Jake said bye to the other man and followed his son into the tent. Neytiri stood up as well and walked in with Tuk rushing behind.

Just as Neteyam entered the family tent, Jake’s hand reached out toward the boy’s back, pulling a white and blue feathered arrow out of the quiver. Jake instantly noticed that this arrow didn’t belong to his son or anyone in his family and at a stretch anyone in the clan.

Neteyam spun around at the slight weight change and his eyes locked onto the arrow being twisted between Jake’s fingers.

“This isn’t yours.” Jake stated, “Where were you?”

“Practising.”

“Practising?”

“Yes?”

Jake hummed as he took in this lie, he liked to believe he knew his children well and one thing about Neteyam, he was a terrible liar. Something they clearly had to work on.

“Who did you practise with?” Jake questioned with humour in his voice and Neteyam’s eyes failed to keep contact with him.

“A friend.”

“Oh? And does this friend have a name?”

Neteyam’s mouth opened and closed quickly, looking at his mother for help.

“Ma Jake, you’re embarrassing him,” Neytiri interjected, taking the arrow from between her mate’s fingers.

“I am not, I'm just asking questions.”

Neytiri gave Jake a look before handing Neteyam the arrow. Jake cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ditched Tahé, again.” Jake stated to his son, putting on an authoritative tone, “Her dad was just here telling me how upset she is.”

Tuk rolled her eyes at her father’s antics, taking the arrow from Neteyam, everyone in this tent knew that Jake did not like Tahé around his children but for the sake of keeping the peace, he bites his tongue.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot with your friend?”

Neteyam paused momentarily before nodding, “Yes?”

Jake dropped the act at his son’s hesitant honesty.

“She make you that necklace?” Neteyam nodded

“She do your hair?” Again, Neteyam nodded

“Have you kissed her yet?”

“Ma Jake!” “Daddy!”

“What? I’m just asking.”

—

The next evening, Neteyam found himself walking confidently through the camp, hoping to not be stopped on the way to his destination.

Neteyam led the pair through the bioluminescent forest, being sure to brush any low-hanging vines out of the way.

“Where are we going?” Y/n questioned, looking around, no matter how many times she ran through the forest during the day, it does not dull the beauty it holds at night

“Just a little further, I promise.” Neteyam smiled, squeezing her hand.

Walking along a thick branch, moving the flora away from her legs, he motioned her to step forward onto the mountain edge as he placed a small basket on the ground, the moss beneath her feet lighting up with every step she took.

“Wow.” Y/n breathed out taking in the view. From here, you could see almost the whole forest

Neteyam walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This is beautiful, Neteyam.” She whispered, placing her arms on top of his and taking in the view. “How did you know to come here?”

“Running around after Lo’ak has some advantages.” He smiled, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Y/n laughed slightly at the thought of the younger boy that always seemed to attract trouble, he was very similar to her own brother, the only difference was that Lo’ak was the Olo'eyktan’s son so if he was to get in trouble, everyone knew about it.

Neteyam placed another kiss on the girl's shoulder and slowly made his way up her neck. Y/n turned her head and their lips brushed against one another.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring you,” Neteyam replied softly, “is that okay?”

Y/n nodded, turning around, the boy pulling her into a kiss, much more passionate than the ones shared the day prior.

—

Y/n straddled Neteyam’s lap, her knees sinking into the moss. Neteyam’s hands ran up y/n’s thighs and rested on her hips.

Y/n placed one arm behind the back of his neck and used her free hand to trace the bioluminous flecks across his forehead, down his nose to his chin. Neteyam looked up at y/n, eyes full of love and admiration.

“I love you,” Neteyam said without a hint of hesitation or the usual shyness in his voice, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” Y/n replied, smiling down at him lovingly.

—

Y/n walked into the clearing where other teens were training, her brother, Kalä, trailing behind her complaining about not wanting to train this early.

“We’re here for you, not for me.” She reminded him, rolling her eyes as he started to complain louder.

Y/n ignored him as she lent her bow against a tree and started to sort out her arrows.

Out of the corner of her eye, y/n noticed Tahé walking into the clearing with her obnoxious group of friends. As the group passes, Tahé eyed the girl before stopping fully next to her.

“Y/n, it’s been so long, are you here to train with us?” Her tone was somewhat condescending

Y/n looked down at the arrows in her hand and then back at the girl, “Did the arrows in my hand tell you that?”

Kalä bit back a smile at his sister's response which didn’t go unnoticed by the other girl who glared subtly at him.

“It’s just that I haven’t seen you around in such a long time, I was concerned, I thought something happened.”

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the girl, instead looking to the other side of the clearing where Jake Sully, Neytiri and their two sons had walked in. Tahé’s eyes followed, her eyes lighting up at the sight. The girl quickly ran her hand over her hair and down her outfit before slowly turning away, y/n noticed that Kalä had extended his foot out but she pushed him to the side so he didn’t succeed in tripping the annoying girl.

“Behave.” She muttered, turning away to finish organising the arrows.

Tahé’s friends followed behind, chatting amongst themselves, none of them having the courage to walk up to the Olo'eyktan directly.

“She’s just so, urgh. I can’t stand her. Look at her, drooling over Neteyam, wait until she finds out he’s been shoving his ton-”

Y/n turned to her brother swiftly, hitting him in the arm with the end of an arrow, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Ow! I’m sensitive!” Kalä exclaimed defensively, holding onto his arm.

This caused the siblings to start bickering amongst themselves, which started to draw the attention of some clan members around them.

—

Neteyam looked around the clearing, he tried to make it seem like he was just surveying the area but in reality, he was looking for the girl he spent the whole night speaking to, the pair only making it back to their tents just as the sun was rising.

At the far end of the clearing, Neteyam spotted a familiar sibling poking each other in the shoulder.

Neteyam smiled, looking down at the grass surrounding his feet.

“Neteyam!”

He raised his head slowly to see Tahé walking toward him and his family, Lo’ak sighed and rolled his eyes as Neytiri nudged him. Jake looked back at his eldest son, s smile creeping onto his face as he saw Neteyam resist the urge to copy his brother.

“Good morning.” Tahé greeted cheerfully, a grin stretching onto her face.

“You’re very chipper this morning, so you must’ve already ruined someone's day,” Lo’ak stated only to receive a stern look from his father.

Tahé was about to retaliate but she was stopped as someone rushed forward, almost knocking her to the floor.

“Sorry! Neteyam! Finally, you’re here!” Kalä announced, skidding to a stop next to the boy, “Save me.”

Neteyam smiled at the younger boy, excusing himself from Tahé and his family, walking towards where y/n was standing, testing a bow.

“Look, Neteyam’s here!”

Y/n turned to smile at Neteyam before glaring at her brother, pushing the bow and an arrow into his chest before crossing her arms, “Go.”

“But-”

“Go, I’ll join you in a minute.” Neteyam intervened nodding at the younger boy

Kalä smiled smugly before walking off quickly to where other teens were waiting for an instructor.

“You don’t have to help him, you know,” Y/n sighed, uncrossing her arms, letting them fall to her side and placing her weight onto one leg.

“I want to,” Neteyam confirmed with a smile, watching the boy join his friends.

With their backs to the clearing, everyone was able to see Neteyam’s hand slowly make his way towards y/n’s, taking hold of it and bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, causing the girl to turn and smile at him.

Jake nodded approvingly while Neytiri smiled fondly.

Lo’ak was proud of his brother for finding someone he liked and he was even happier when he watched Tahé’s face drop and her shoulders sag in defeat.

Request from @tigermoon3

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delulujuls · 7 months

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papaya nails and everything nice | op81

hi! i dont really know how to comment on that one, i just get this idea from few videos where oscar actually admitted that he has very interesting relationship with his nails

anyway, is this original? i think it is. is this wholesome? hell yes, we do be supportin in this household. enjoy!

summary: oscar is having an unusual problem but it's nothing a manicure cant fix

warnings: none, i hope that painted nails on a boy arent a trigger

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver (ft. lando)

Oscar had been struggling to get himself together for some time now. As far back as he could remember, he considered himself as organized and put-together person who kept everything in check. However, for the past few weeks he had been the complete opposite—nothing seemed to go his way, he was incredibly scattered, sleeping poorly and was always last-minute everywhere.

This day was no exception to the rule that had persistently dominated Piastri's life for the past few weeks. Hurrying, he entered the garage running late and quickly started changing, not wanting to delay the start of training. His hair was messy, clearly having just detached from the pillow a few moments ago. Y/N observed her friend from the corner of her eye, seeing him struggle with unzipping his jumpsuit. Without hesitation, she approached him and eased his suffering, helping him with the zipper.

"Thanks," he mumbled, throwing a fleeting glance at his friend. Only then did Y/N noticed that Oscar's face was marked by several red streaks.

"Something happened?" she asked, clearly concerned. The recent strange behavior of Oscar had not escaped anyone on the team and she was no exception.

"I overslept, nothing new lately," Piastri casually replied, putting on the jumpsuit and fastening it around his neck. He brushed his hair off his face and only now did Y/N have a full view of his face, where red stripes were visible on his even paler-than-usual skin.

"Yes, that too, but that's not what I meant," she said.

Y/N took her phone and showed him his reflection. He furrowed his brows in surprise but took the phone from her and looked at his face. It was a fact, there were strange red marks on it. After a moment, he figured out why he looked like so this morning.

"They're probably scratches; I must have done them in my sleep."

"Scratches?" she scrunched her eyebrows and involuntarily glanced at his nails when he handed her the phone. Indeed, Oscar's nails could make many girls envious.

Y/N still had something to ask, but she was called to take her place in the car. She didn't have the chance to exchange a single word with Oscar until lunchtime. The couple sat in the cafeteria and as Y/N was familiar with both the old Oscar, whom she had known for several years and the slowly emerging new Oscar, she had never paid much attention to his hands or, more importantly, his nails.

"Has this happened to you before?" Y/N asked when they were both eating lunch and Oscar focused all his attention on what she assumed was his first eagerly awaited meal of the day.

"That I took two portions of rice with vegetables for lunch?" he asked with his mouth full, glancing at her in the meantime "No, honestly, this is my debut."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not asking about that. I mean, have you ever looked like you've just met Wolverine?"

"Still have those marks?"

Y/N nodded in response as she continued eating.

Oscar sighed, swallowing what was in his mouth and wondering whether to tell her about the embarrassing nonsense that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Seeing her curious gaze he decided to confess to her an unusual fact about himself.

"I can't cut my nails."

Oscar threw this statement into the air without much ado. Honestly, at this point in his life where he was and with all the things happening, most of which didn't go the way they should, thinking about things like his unfortunate nails would be total foolishness.

"Oh, really?" she was surprised, but it was the kind of surprise when you hear some fun fact you didn't know before.

"You reacted like I just told you that there are twice as many kangaroos as people in Australia."

"It's quite an unusual thing, you're probably the first person I know who can't do it."

"I don't know if it's something to feel special about, although probably yes since for the rest of the day, I look like I do."

Oscar replied, pointing to his scratched face.

"What's worse," he continued, not interrupting his eating, "Even when I manage to deal with them, it takes a moment and they look the same again. They grow terribly fast."

"If you want, I can help you with them," she offered, glancing at him.

Oscar hesitated for a moment and after that he looked at her uncertainly.

"Could you?"

"Of course!"

Shortly afterward, Y/N's hotel room turned into improvised nail salon. She took her task very seriously, pleased that Oscar allowed her to do anything extra such as cutting his cuticles or giving his hands a massage with a cookie-scented cream.

"You have nice nails," he said when she massaged his hands. Her nails had short square shapes with a matte finish. The color was no surprise; it was papaya orange. "Do PR people dip their fingers in this too?"

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"No, I just noticed this nail polish in the drugstore and I thought I'd take it. It amused me that this color haunts me everywhere."

"Do you do your nails yourself?" Oscar looked at her with a slight shock. "It must be terribly hard and time-consuming."

"I've been doing them for a few years now and as you can see they are pretty simple, so with each time I get better at it."

She replied, taking a bit more cream. She noticed that he was silently looking at her hands; it seemed that he was particularly paying attention to her nails.

"I can paint yours too if you want."

"Mine?"

Y/N nodded and Oscar looked at her, shocked by how effortlessly she seemed to read his thoughts.

"Painted nails aren't for boys. "

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Anyone can have painted nails, Oscar."

"Zac would be pissed at me. PR people probably too."

"Fuck Zac, fuck PR people," she looked him in the eyes. "Everyone has the right to look how they want, so if Lewis can have earrings and tattoos, Alex could have red hair, then you or any other guy can have painted nails."

Oscar hesitated for a while, looking at her uncertainly. He was silent for a moment, thinking hard. However, he decided that it was time to finally do something contrary to the norm. He has stuck to the rules and regulations all his life, so it's time to make a small concession that won't harm anyone.

"Can you make them for me with a shiny finish?"

Y/N smiled and nodded, hurriedly getting off the bed and grabbing her bag with all the supplies. The smile on Oscar's face appeared with each painted nail, pushing away his fears and insecurities.

When the girl started finishing his other hand after more than an hour, Lando came into the bedroom without any warning, complaining about his friends and the fact that none of them had replied to any of his messages for over forty minutes.

When Norris noticed what he was witnessing, he opened his mouth in shock and his eyes almost fell out of his sockets. Both Oscar and Y/N knew their friend's unfiltered chatter, so they mentally prepared themselves for some comment from him. But beside that, he hurriedly took off his shoes and all excited sat on the bed, rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh my God! Will you do mine too?"

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 oneshots #op81 #formula 1 #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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