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just-aake · 27 days

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Dyeing to See You Again

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The need for a change of style brings about a reunion between Natasha and her old friend.

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 6659

Ohio - 1995

Three years ago, in the heart of the Midwest, a typical family of four moved into the ordinary suburban home next to yours.

Naturally, as their neighbor, you became interested in learning about the new family, especially since you found out that one of their daughters was similar to you in age.

Initially closed off in the beginning, you slowly chipped away at the girl’s cold exterior until eventually the two of you became inseparable friends, forming a close bond with her over the three years they’ve lived here so far.

Currently, you find yourselves in the bathroom of her home amidst a chaotic mess of scattered bottles of hair products and dyes, the result of two young teens messing around without supervision.

You watch as Natasha removes the towel from her head, revealing the experiment that the two of you have been working on, and your eyes widen in shock at the sight.

“Uh oh, Nat, I think we might’ve mixed up the wrong bottles,” you exclaim in a slight panic as you rush around to pick up the different dyes, trying to find the one that was applied to her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you apologize as you try to figure out where you two went wrong.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Natasha reassures, her voice distracted in awe as she examines the strands of her newly colored hair in the mirror.

“It’s blue,” you state plainly in disbelief at her untroubled state.

“Yeah, but…it was my choice,” Natasha says with a widening happy grin.

You drop the bottles in your hand and tilt your head at her in confusion.

“I thought you said that your mom was okay with this.”

Natasha makes an unsure sound before shrugging, “I’m sure she will be..I think.”

You twist your lips skeptically at her words as you stand and return to her side. Your hand raises to her hair, but before you touch it, you pause and look at her with a questioning look, silently asking for permission.

Over the time you’ve known her, you’ve learned how much Natasha values her personal space. The first time you patted her back in a friendly gesture, she pushed you away so hard that you scraped your hands while catching yourself on the ground.

Natasha apologized profusely immediately afterward and supported you home where she helped to tend to your wounds.

That was the first time you saw the true warmth that Natasha was hiding underneath her cold exterior as she cared for you.

At that time, she explained to you how she was not used to such friendly gestures like that from her peers and had reacted instinctively.

Hearing this, you decide to always ask if she’s comfortable before you touch her.

With her nod of permission, your finger gently threads through her now light blue hair, brushing it in contemplation.

“Well, I guess it’s fine since it’s summer, but you’re going to have to change it back before school starts,” you remark.

Natasha shrugs, unconcerned, before flashing you one of her rare teasing grins.

“I’ll just have you dye it for me again. Maybe next time it might actually be the right color.”

You huff in disbelief at her, but before you can point out she also contributed to the mistake, the sound of the front door opening and the call from Natasha’s mom, Melina, causes both of your eyes to widen.

Within the next second, the two of you scramble to clean up the mess in the bathroom, laughing with each other the entire time.

You never did get a chance to change her hair color back to normal.

Natasha and her family vanished without a trace before the end of that summer.

There was no note. No warning.

She was just suddenly gone from your life.

And though many years pass, you’ve always held onto the hope that someday you can see her again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (21 Years Later)

The peaceful ambiance of the late evening is pierced by the gentle chime of the bell hanging above the entrance to the hair salon, announcing the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you call out, your eyes still fixed on the task of sweeping the floor.

A familiar voice responds, breaking through your concentration.

“What about for an old friend?”

Instantly, you freeze in your movements and look up at the visitor, disbelief flooding your senses as you recognize the voice and then the face of the woman.

"Nat?" you utter in disbelief.

Natasha stands before you, a soft smile gracing her features as she greets you.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Abandoning everything in your hands, you rush towards her, only to stop short of barreling into her when you remember how she felt about her personal space.

To your surprise, Natasha pulls you into her arms for a tight hug, breaking the barrier herself.

Momentarily stunned, you quickly recover and return her warm embrace, tucking your head against her shoulder and letting out a breath of disbelief that she’s actually here in front of you.

The two of you stay in that position, reveling in your reunion with each other, before Natasha breaks the silence with a soft murmur against your shoulder.

“So, about that haircut?”

You chuckle, nodding in response to her request.

As Natasha settles into a chair, you move to secure the salon, locking the door and closing the blinds, shielding the two of you from prying eyes.

Despite the late hour and remote location, you’re not taking any chances.

Even though it has been years since you last saw Natasha in person, that doesn’t mean you didn’t eventually discover who she really was, recognizing her immediately through the news during the attack in New York and now with her current predicament.

But that’s her business.

You’re not going to bring it up unless she wants to talk about it.

Here in this moment, she's not a spy or the Black Widow. She’s simply Natasha, your friend.

And right now, she wants to change her hair.

Taking your position behind her, you place your hands on the back of the chair and meet her eyes in the mirror.

“So, what are we thinking?”

Natasha ponders for a moment before a teasing grin lights up her face, and she turns her head to look at you.

"We could attempt the platinum blonde again, maybe without the blue this time?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a laugh of disbelief at the memory of your past failed attempt at dyeing her hair.

Before you begin, you give her the same questioning look as when you were younger, silently asking for permission to touch her.

A small smile forms on her face at the familiar request, and Natasha nods to you before facing forward once again to give you access to her hair.

With her consent, your fingers gently thread through her hair, delicately brushing out the tangled areas as you go.

As you continue your actions, Natasha’s eyes flutter closed, and a relaxed expression crosses her face as the tension in her shoulder eases with every movement.

A happy smile tugs at your lips when you see this, so you continue your soothing actions as you inspect the condition of her hair.

“What did you do?” you ask in concern when you realize the state of her hair. “The ends are all burnt up. Did you light your hair on fire or something?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her eyes still closed as she responds.

“Not exactly. I jumped off an exploding secret evil base that was floating in the sky.”

A brief pause follows as you process her words before you release a huff of disbelief at her casual explanation.

“Well, obviously one of us has chosen the more exciting career.”

You finish your assessment of the extent of damage to her hair before shaking your head with a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think these are salvageable. We might need to cut most of it off.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha answers calmly, unconcerned by the news.

“Seriously?” you ask, making sure she sees the length of how short her hair will be.

She meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a reassuring nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t had that style before,” Natasha reasons before letting out a tired sigh. “Besides, a different look for me is probably better at the moment anyway.”

Understanding what she’s referring to, you don’t press further, replying with a soft, “Okay.”

You proceed with the transformation, draping a cape around Natasha’s shoulders before delicately combing through her hair.

With each snip of the scissors, you work meticulously with care, shaping Natasha’s hair into a style that would best complement her features.

Lost in your task, you can’t help but be captivated by her beauty, understanding how she came to be described as the spy who captures the hearts of all those who encounter her.

As you finish up with the haircut, the peaceful atmosphere of the moment is shattered by an alert from the tv, interrupting the currently airing program.

The late-night news anchor appears on the screen, delivering the all-too-familiar message that has become a nightly ritual.

“The search efforts are still ongoing for the fugitives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, also known as Captain America and the Black Widow. The two are currently on the run for violation of the Sokovia Accords. Any information regarding their possible whereabouts should be reported to—”

With a frown, you swiftly reach for the remote and shut off the tv.

Turning back, your frown deepens when you find Natasha rising from the chair.

“What are you doing?” you question, puzzled by her sudden action.

Natasha shakes her head with a grave expression as she removes the cape from her shoulders.

“This was reckless. I shouldn’t be here,” she answers, her voice filled with regret. “I’m just putting you at risk.”

Realizing her intention to leave because of the possible dangers of her presence, you interject firmly when she strides past you toward the exit.

"I'm glad that you did."

Your unexpected words cause her to pause in her tracks, confusion flickering across her face as she turns to meet your gaze.

"I don't care about the risks, Nat," you say, your tone unwavering and softening with a small smile at her.

“I’m glad that I got a chance to see you again.”

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly at your words, but a hesitant look still remains on her face, so you offer another reassurance.

“If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve told you to go already.”

Her gaze focuses on you in contemplation, and you know she’s almost convinced, prompting you to continue, your hand turning the chair around to her in invitation.

“Besides, I’m not finished yet. I still have to dye your hair and show you that I can get the color right this time,” you tease lightly.

A small smile tugs at Natasha’s lips, and a hint of amusement appears in her eyes as they soften into a fond look at you.

With one final contemplative glance to the exit, Natasha comes to a decision and gives in, settling back into the seat again.

“Alright, show me what you got.”

With her permission granted, you proceed with the dyeing process, your fingers moving with practiced ease as you bleach and tone her hair, removing the remnants of her signature vibrant red locks, before applying the blonde dye.

Your brows furrowed in concentration as you carefully coat each strand of her hair to ensure an even color in the end.

Meanwhile, throughout the process, Natasha watches you intently through the mirror, a tiny admiring smile pulls at the corner of her lips when she sees how focused you are on your work.

Once all that’s left is to wait for the dye to set, you disappear into the back of the salon in search of some snacks and return triumphantly with a tub of ice cream.

Offering Natasha a spoon with a playful grin, you both indulge in the sweet treat, the casual banter flowing effortlessly between you as if the years apart had never existed.

“So do you still live in the same neighborhood?” Natasha asks between spoonfuls.

You shake your head, explaining, “My parents are still there, but I moved out here years ago after fixing up this building for myself. My place is actually next door, though sometimes it’s hard to tell these are two separate buildings. You have no idea how many packages I end up never receiving because the mailman can’t find my home.”

The two of you share a laugh and continue reminiscing about past adventures and mishaps and then about your current lives.

Throughout the entire time, your questions to her remain light-hearted, carefully avoiding any mention of her current situation or her mysterious past.

Despite the happy atmosphere, your consideration for her only makes the sense of guilt within Natasha grow with each passing moment, reminding her of what she put you through.

Eventually, the room falls into a comfortable quiet as you clean up the empty containers and move to throw them away.

When you return, Natasha decides to address her mistakes and the role she played in the fracture of your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

You look at her with a perplexed look, tilting your head in confusion.

“For what?” you ask.

“For not telling you who I was…for leaving without any warning,” she confesses, her eyes closing briefly with remorse. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You lean back against the counter, arms crossed, your gaze dropping to the floor as you contemplate her words. Your thoughts and feelings about her apology remain inscrutable on your face.

After a brief pause, you finally meet her gaze again with a serious expression.

“Was it real?” you ask.

At your question, Natasha furrows her brows in confusion, causing you to elaborate.

“Our friendship,” you clarify, gesturing between the two of you. “All the times we spent together…was it real?”

Natasha pauses as she thinks back to her time undercover. The mission was to pose as a normal family to infiltrate and gather intel from a research lab nearby.

That didn’t necessarily mean she needed to form such a close relationship with you at the time.

So was her friendship with you genuinely her choice?

As Natasha contemplates her answer, you take a step closer to her, causing her focus to return back to you.

“The way I remember it, I wanted to be your friend,” you admit before giving her a knowing look. “And I’m guessing you didn’t have to be mine, at least based on all your brooding and glares that you gave me in the beginning.”

Natasha grimaces sadly at the memory of how distant and cold she was initially before giving you a curious look.

“So why did you try to become friends with me?”

You shrug, a nostalgic expression appearing on your face. You recall the first time you spotted the lone girl curled up into herself underneath the shelter of the branches of the trees.

“When I first saw you, you just…looked like you needed somebody on your side for once,” you admit softly before tilting your head at her. “And I thought… maybe I could be that person for you.”

Natasha’s mouth parts slightly in surprise at your answer. Before she can respond, her stunned silence is abruptly broken by the sound of the timer.

With a gentle shake of your head, you return your focus to her hair, positioning yourself behind her.

“You don't have to apologize, Natasha,” you assure her, your voice steady and comforting, as you delicately begin to unwrap her hair.

“Odds are I would’ve still chosen to be your friend whether I knew if you were a spy or not. And as for leaving…”

You recline her chair, her head now hovering above the washing station, as you let out a soft sad sigh and begin washing her hair.

“People come and go throughout our lives all of the time. And most of the time, we can’t stop it from happening.”

Your voice wavers slightly, the memories of the devastation you felt when you found out Natasha had left come flooding back.

Even though she wants to, Natasha can’t see what kind of expression you have on your face, your hand covering her eyes to shield the water from her face.

Shaking off the sad memory, you dry her hair and reposition Natasha upright. Your fingers glide through her newly shortened locks, combing them as you continue with a lighter and more upbeat tone.

“But the one thing we can do is hope that the people who truly mean something to us are the ones we’ll get to see again.”

Satisfied with the results of Natasha’s new hairstyle, your hands settle on the back of the chair, turning it so she faces the mirror.

Bending down, your head hovers beside hers as you meet her eyes in the reflection.

“And look, I got to see you again, didn’t I?” you say with a happy grin.

Natasha is stunned, her heart warmed by your words. She gazes at her reflection, admiring her new look, but her eyes keep returning to you, your words still echoing in her mind.

Oblivious to her awed stares at you, you return your focus to brushing her hair and examining it proudly.

“Do you like it?” you ask eagerly with anticipation when you finally look up back at her.

“Yeah,” Natasha responds honestly, her gaze fixed on you. “I do.”

You give her a beaming smile at her answer, causing the corners of Natasha’s lip to quirk up fondly at the sight.

After you do your finishing touches and declare that she’s done, Natasha stands from the chair and reaches into her pockets for the remaining money she still has on hand.

“How much do I owe?”

You wave your hand in refusal, shaking your head.

“Nothing, consider it a gift from a friend,” you insist, giving her a resolute expression, daring her to argue.

Huffing lightly under her breath at your determination, Natasha gives you a small smile as she relents with a soft, “Thank you.”

Her eyes glance at the darkness outside, seeing how late into the night it is, and she turns back to you, tilting her head in question.

“Can I at least walk you home then?” she offers.

You raise an amused brow at her, probably because your home most likely only takes less than a couple minutes walk from here.

Still, you agree to her request with a nod, unable to resist the opportunity to prolong this time together with her.

“Alright. Let me just close up.”

After you lock the shop, the two of you walk side by side along the sidewalk to your home before you suddenly stop and point to the lone motorcycle parked across the street.

“Is that yours?” you ask curiously.

“Yes, it is,” Natasha says proudly.

“It’s nice,” you compliment before you shoot her a teasing smirk. “It’s definitely cooler than that bicycle you used to ride.”

Natasha lets out a playful offended scoff in disbelief.

“Hey, you’ve always loved it when I let you ride on the back of that bike with me,” she points out.

You chuckle at her exclamation in defense of her precious bicycle, but you don’t deny her accusation.

Your heart warms at the memory of wrapping your arms around her waist, clinging to her from behind as Natasha rides her bicycle down the neighborhood streets.

Your eyes linger on her hand at her side, wanting to feel that warmth again, but you resist the urge to reach for her. Instead, you tuck your hands behind your back as the two of you continue your path.

Once you reach your front door, you turn back around to face Natasha, a somber expression settling over you.

“Will you ever come to visit again?” you ask with a tinge of hope in your tone.

Natasha hesitates, wanting to tell you ‘yes,’ but she knows better than to make promises that she can’t keep, especially with her current situation.

“I don’t know,” Natasha answers honestly in a soft whisper.

You dip your head slightly, a sad smile on your lip.

Natasha swallows her own desires in her heart and gestures awkwardly behind her.

“I should…probably get going before someone sees me,” she says with a small grimace.

You nod at her in understanding, moving to unlock and open your door.

“Stay safe, Natasha,” you tell her, your voice thick with longing. “If anything, I do hope I’ll get the chance to see you again one day.”

When you enter your home and close the door with a dull thud of finality, Natasha's hand rests gently against the solid barrier separating you.

Leaning her forehead against the cool wood, she whispers sadly, "Me too,” before finally turning away.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (2 Months Later)

It was late one evening again when the bell above the door chimed just as you were cleaning up for the day. Looking up, a surprised and excited expression forms on your face when you see who it is.

“Can you take one more?” Natasha asks, a small smile also appearing on her face when she sees you.

With a light chuckle, you approach her, your hands clasped behind your back.

“For you, always,” you reply warmly, stopping in front of her with a fond tilt of your head.

Natasha bites her lips lightly to keep her grin from widening at your words. Just as she’s about to step closer, a gentle knock on the door behind her reminds her of her original reason for coming to see you.

“Actually, it’s not for me though,” Natasha explains before opening the door again and waving someone in.

A brown-haired girl cautiously steps into the salon at Natasha’s invitation. Her eyes look around, examining the room before falling on you with a wary gaze.

“This is Wanda,” Natasha introduces.

The girl gives you a timid wave in greeting from her crossed arm, but she subtly retreats to a position slightly behind Natasha.

Her expression is pinched with apprehension as if she’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you.

You recognize Wanda quickly from the nightly tv alerts, her picture now featured alongside Natasha’s after the news broke about a high-security prison break a month ago.

Before you can offer her some reassurance, another familiar face walks in.

“The perimeter is secure,” the man announces before focusing on you and extending his hand in a greeting. “Hello, I’m Steve.”

Reacting instinctively to his polite greeting, you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Hi, my name’s Y/n. I’m Natasha’s friend.”

Steve raises a brow at that and gives you a skeptical look.

“Just a friend? With the way Nat talks about you, I thought she was going to pull the same move as Barton and introduce us to her secret family.”

That draws a curious look from you as you ask him.

“What did she say?”

“Well—”

A loud cough from Natasha interrupts your conversation, drawing your attention before he can continue further.

Natasha’s subtle glare silences Steve, her arms crossed in disapproval, as she grits out to him, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see if you could find a place to resupply?”

Hearing this and wanting to offer some help, you raise your hand to get their attention and interject, “Most places around here are closed at this time, but…”

You pause as you go to the back and retrieve your keys and offer them to Steve, explaining, “...there is a convenience store around the corner that belongs to my ex’s grandparents. They gave me a spare key for if I ever need something. Just write down what you take and leave the money behind the counter. Oh, and the security cameras don’t actually work, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Steve takes the keys from you with a grateful nod.

“Thank you, this’ll help us out a lot.”

He then turns to Natasha and Wanda.

“I'll meet up with you two when you finish up here then,” he says, heading towards the door.

“I can come help you,” Wanda offers, moving to follow Steve, but Natasha blocks her path with a knowing expression.

“You said you wanted to change your look since we’ll be going into hiding,” she reminds Wanda who twists her lips in disappointment when she realizes she failed to escape.

“I didn’t think that meant we would be forcing someone to do it for me,” Wanda says, still glancing at you with apprehension.

You wave your hand in reassurance, interjecting quickly, “Oh, I don’t mind. Natasha’s not forcing me to do this. I’m happy to help.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Steve declares with an acknowledging nod to you. “Thanks again, Y/n.”

After a pointed gesture from Natasha, Wanda settles into one of the chairs with a small sigh.

Natasha leans against the counter facing you and Wanda as you move to your position behind the chair.

“So, what color did you want to dye your hair?” you ask her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Wanda replies with a resigned tone, her eyes downcasted and focused on her hands in her lap.

You frown slightly in concern at her defeated attitude, and you look at Natasha, giving her a meaningful look.

“What do you think, Natasha? I believe I got some new colors recently. Maybe purple or green would fit her,” you ponder out loud as if actually considering those options.

Wanda’s head shoots up in shock as she sputters incredulously, “Green?”

Natasha grins, catching on to your intentions, as she shrugs casually at your suggestions, adding, “You could never go wrong with blue.”

You laugh at her comment, nodding in agreement.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Wanda says quickly, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She points seriously at the two of you. “No to all those. I don’t want it to be that big of a change.”

Her voice lowers to a sad but determined tone.

“I don’t want it to be as if they succeeded in forcing me to change who I am,” Wanda admits as she stares down at her hands where a red ball of mist flows between her fingers in a gentle pattern.

“Well, the great thing about changing your hair is that ultimately whatever you decide, it’s your choice to make,” you say, your gaze meeting Natasha’s slightly widened eyes, before continuing firmly, “No one can take that decision from you.”

Wanda contemplates your words for a moment and then nods at you decisively.

“Can you lighten my hair into an auburn color?” she asks.

You give her a gentle smile and nod, replying, “Alright then. Auburn it is.”

Before you touch her hair, you give her a questioning look and ask, “Are you comfortable for me to touch your hair and start?”

Wanda blinks at you in surprise, and her tense posture relaxes slightly when she realizes you’re asking for her permission.

With a nod, she responds softly, “Go ahead.”

As you work on Wanda’s hair, Natasha watches you intently with a fond look in her eyes, lost in her thoughts at the sight of you and glad that she had this opportunity to see you again.

Before she knows it, you’re already finishing up applying the last coatings of the dye on Wanda’s hair when you suddenly speak up.

“You know, I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads,” you state casually before meeting Natasha’s eyes with a teasing smile.

“Are you trying to say that you don’t have a soft spot for me now that I’m blonde?” Natasha asks with an amused raise of a brow.

You shrug nonchalantly and hum in thought as if having to contemplate the answer.

Natasha huffs in disbelief and rolls her eyes slightly at you.

However, your words remind her of what you mentioned earlier to Steve, and Natasha can’t help but ask curiously.

“Was your ex also a redhead?” she asks, her tone seemingly casual.

“Impressive, your deduction skills as a spy must be really good,” you tease, chuckling lightly, as you return your focus to Wanda’s hair.

“The two of you must’ve been pretty serious for their grandparents to still trust you like that,” Natasha says, unable to hide the slight bitterness of the thought slipping into her tone.

You laugh and shake your head quickly in denial.

“No, definitely not. She moved away years ago, and our relationship didn’t really end on good terms. My close relationship with her grandparents is kind of like my revenge on her. Plus, they’re actually a sweet old couple.”

“Oh,” Natasha says, a small breath of relief releasing from her.

“I’m not really seeing anyone at the moment,” you admit softly.

“Natasha’s single too,” Wanda chimes in, her focus originally on the sitcom playing on the tv but now looking between the two of you with interest.

“That’s a surprise,” you say with a laugh as you go into the back to retrieve some things.

Natasha chuckles lightly as you leave before giving Wanda the same warning glare that she gave Steve. Unfazed, Wanda just gestures with her head encouragingly in your direction.

However, Natasha shakes her head resolutely in a silent reply to her, and before Wanda can attempt to convince her further, you come back and begin doing the last steps on Wanda’s hair.

With one final brush of Wanda’s newly red hair, you declare happily, “All finished.”

“Thanks, Y/n,” Wanda says as she stands from the chair and goes to examine her hair in the mirror.

You watch as a small smile appears on her face, and you let out a breath of relief, glad to finally see Wanda in a moment of happiness.

Natasha comes up next to you and holds out some money in an offer.

“Thank you for doing this,” Natasha says.

You shake your head in refusal, your hands folded behind you as you face her.

“I’m sure you all need this more than I do,” you say resolutely.

Natasha chuckles lightly and huffs in disbelief.

“You know, you can’t always give me free passes like this every time. You should be paid for your work,” Natasha points out.

You hum in thought before tilting your head at her with a questioning look.

“How about dinner?” you suggest.

A surprised expression appears on Natasha’s face, but she hesitates to answer, facing the same situation again of wanting to accept your offer, but a beep at her side along with the message that comes with it reminds her why she can’t.

“Steve’s on his way back. I have to take Wanda back to the safe house and then we’re moving right after,” she explains sadly with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nat. I know,” you say gently in understanding, taking a small step back from her and changing your tone into one lighter.

“But if you’re ever in the area again, you’re always welcome here.”

You turn to look at Wanda, adding, “All of you.”

“Can I walk you back home at least?” Natasha asks.

Before you can respond, the sound of a car pulling up outside catches your attention, and based on Natasha’s disappointed expression, you know that’s probably Steve.

“It’s okay, Natasha. You can go,” you reassure her, offering a comforting smile.

Wanda gives you a small wave goodbye as she exits, but Natasha lingers at the door, her gaze fixed on you.

“About before…” she starts before hesitating and trailing off into silence as she presses her lips together in contemplation.

When her shoulder drops slightly in defeat and disappointment, you know she’s decided against whatever she’s about to say.

“You can just tell me later,” you suggest. “You know, whenever I get to see you again.”

Though you both know that you don’t know when that’ll be.

“Right,” Natasha agrees, her smile tinged with sadness as she gives you one last glance and moving to leave. “I’ll see you next time, Y/n.”

After closing up, you head home, the events of the evening replaying in your mind.

Though the goodbye was bittersweet, you’re still happy you got a chance to see Natasha again so soon and even meet the other important people in her life.

As you step out of your bathroom, just finished with a shower, a knock on your door interrupts your thoughts.

You check who it is before quickly unlocking and opening the door for them.

“Hey…” Natasha’s voice trails off, her gaze taking in your appearance.

Remnants of water from the shower still remain on your exposed skin since you decided to wear some light clothing to counter the warm temperature outside.

Leaning against the doorway, you greet her with a curious tilt of your head at her sudden silence.

“Hey,” you reply in greeting.

Natasha shakes her head lightly as if coming out of a daze and gestures in a direction behind her.

“So, uh, Steve said that he can take Wanda back to the safe house. She really loves her hair by the way. Um, she also told me that I should..uh..I should see you again before we leave…”

Your lips twitch in amusement at Natasha’s endearing ramble, your gaze softening as you continue to listen.

“…but it looks like you’re probably about to go to sleep, so I should just go,” Natasha concludes, turning to leave.

“Wait,” you call out, your hand instinctively reaching towards her, but you stop yourself before you touch her, your hand retracting back to your side, a mixture of hesitation and longing in your movements.

Natasha pauses at your request, and when she sees your hesitating action, her features soften in understanding.

Stepping back closer to you, she extends her hand in invitation.

“You can touch me, Y/n,” Natasha reassures you. “I never have a problem if it’s you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, touched by her trust.

Tentatively, you reach out, your hand finding hers, before checking for any signs of discomfort but end up seeing none from her.

Your hand then trails up lightly to her shoulder and then to the back of her neck, your fingers play with the strands of her short hair as you watch her carefully.

Natasha closes her eyes at your touch, the same serene expression appearing on her face as before.

Seeing this, you bring your other hand to cup her cheek as you urge gently.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?”

Natasha opens her eyes and meets your gaze with an affectionate look, her hand moving up to hold the back of yours as she responds.

“That it was real,” she confesses softly.

You furrow your brows lightly in confusion, prompting Natasha to clarify.

“Your question from before,” she explains. “It was real for me too.”

Natasha lets out a shaky breath as she continues, “I loved that I had you on my side back then, and the truth is…I’d love to have you by my side now.”

Surprised by her admission, you search her eyes but only find genuine warmth and sincerity in her gaze.

Natasha’s smile softens, and you find yourself drawn to her at the action, unconsciously leaning in closer.

Even though Natasha gave you permission earlier to touch her, this desire that you have is different, so you give her the same questioning look that you always have before and ask hesitantly in a breathless whisper.

“Can I kiss you?”

Natasha chuckles lightly under her breath at your question, resting her forehead against yours.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

With a gentle pull, you close the small distance between the two of you, sharing a tender kiss with her. Her lips are soft against yours, fitting perfectly and enveloping you with the same warmth that you've always felt from her.

When you finally pull away, your breath still mingling with hers, Natasha gives you a teasing grin.

“So, about that dinner?”

Laughing, you roll your eyes fondly and wrap your arms around her to pull her into your home.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2018 (2 Years Later)

The soft rustling of movement reaches your ears, pulling you from your sleep. You glance at the clock on the nightstand, its dim glow showing the late hour, before turning your gaze to the familiar figure standing beside the bed, quietly slipping her shirt over her frame with practiced ease.

“Nat?”

At the sound of your voice, Natasha turns back to you, her expression reassuring as she moves to sit beside you. Her hand rests gently on your shoulder, stopping you when she sees that you’re about to sit up.

“Go back to sleep, moya lyubov,” Natasha whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Wanda and Vision missed their check-in, so Steve and I are just going to check up on them real quick.”

A flicker of unease flares within you at the news, coupled with the realization that Natasha intends to go straight toward potential unknown dangers.

Your hand reaches out and grips her arms, a surge of unsettling fear tightening in your chest.

“Natasha, don’t…”

Don’t go

The words are trapped in your throat as you stare at her.

Holding your gaze, Natasha’s eyes reflect both love and determination.

Love for you…and for her makeshift family.

And as much as you wish for her safety, you know you can’t keep her from her loyalty and duty to them.

With a bittersweet smile, you cradle her face in your hands, suppressing the selfish urge to ask her to stay.

“Don’t take too long to come back,” you manage, a hint of teasing in your voice as you catch a strand of her blonde hair in your hand. “We wouldn’t want your hair to be two different colors by the time you return.”

Natasha chuckles lightly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

“It’s going to be a quick trip. I’ll be back soon,” she promises.

You pull her close, giving her another lingering kiss, before wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug and tucking your head against her shoulder.

“And I’ll be here when you do,” you whisper against her in a promise in return.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2023 (5 Years Later)

In the quiet solitude of the salon, Natasha stands alone, the weight of the five years after the snap hangs heavy in the air.

A mixture of exhaustion and sorrow is etched on her face as she examines the space.

With a weary sigh, she rubs at her eyes, wiping away the stray tears at the memories of you. She remembers vividly her last moments with you, your unspoken words to her.

The truth is she knew, deep down, what you were about to say to her at that time. And she understood why you stopped yourself.

Because if you had asked her not to go, she would’ve chosen to stay with you without any hesitation.

Seating herself in one of the chairs, Natasha meets her reflection in the mirror with unwavering determination.

Her hair has grown out to its former length over the past five years. Yet, traces of the dyed parts you did for her still linger at the tips.

Those strands of blonde color are her lifeline — a connection to the part of her life that she holds dear.

They serve as a constant reminder to keep going.

To keep fighting for a way to bring everyone back.

To bring you back.

Because amidst all the uncertainties of the world and the future, one thing remains steadfast in Natasha’s heart — she would do anything to see you again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n : Thank you for reading!

Part 2

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff

633 notes · View notes

andvys · 9 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 11

Warnings: none really, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader punching someone....

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve watches you from afar, confused about your relationship with the metalhead.

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: @mysticmunson you're always my biggest help and inspiration, thank you, angel🤍

series masterlist

“Will you hold still?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Why are you so shaky?”

“I-I don’t know.”

You drop the eyeshadow brush on the desk and put your hand on your hip, sighing as you look at Chrissy who looks more nervous than ever. She is still wearing a hoodie, the cheer uniform is hanging over the back of your chair. You have been trying to do her eye makeup for the past twenty minutes.

“Lay down.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion takes over her face, “why?”

“Because I can’t work like this, you keep fidgeting – seriously, what’s up? You are never this nervous.”

You and Chrissy always get ready together whenever there’s a basketball game. Usually she does her makeup herself but tonight she asked you to do it, she wanted something similar like you, just with more color.

She seemed happy and excited when she came over but now she seems like a nervous mess. Every time you move closer to her, she starts fidgeting, it’s not the first time you had noticed her doing that. You have noticed a lot in the past three months.

Heather and Chrissy kept being secretive, oftentimes you would catch them whispering before they’d notice you in the room, they share glances that you don’t understand. They still make you feel left out. You confronted them a while back but neither of them gave you any answers to your questions, it upset you and it caused you to distance yourself from them a little.

They had started to make you feel the way he made you feel. The constant lies, the whispers and them going behind your back had gotten to you. It triggered some feelings that you thought you had left in the past.

They were upset when you stopped answering their phone calls and when you would cancel plans but you couldn’t be around them when they refused to talk about the very obvious issues they had with you. You would never drop the friendship, you would never leave them behind, they mean too much to you to just kick them out of your life but you needed some distance, for your sake.

You made a new friend, Robin Buckley. Eddie introduced you to her back in January, they had been friends since middle school – back when he was still a theater kid.

You instantly hit it off with her, she is nice and she is very different from Chrissy and Heather, which is why she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with them yet. It’s a miracle that she gave you a chance considering that ‘popular’ people make her feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable – which you can understand now that you see things from a different perspective.

To most people, you are still the ‘the queen of Hawkins High’ but to some you are one of the freaks now. They glare at you, they whisper about you, they call you names and point their fingers at you, especially when they see you with Eddie, who feels guilty about the treatment you are getting from some of the people that used to be in your friend group when you were still with Steve. You don’t care though.

You don’t care what other people think of you.

But you do care what your friends think about you, your friends who still keep secrets.

“Yeah Chrissy, why are you so nervous?” Eddie chuckles as he looks up from his magazine, glancing at the two of you. Wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes, which only makes him chuckle again.

Eddie knows why she is so nervous, it’s obvious why – well, it’s obvious to everyone but you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The subtle glares and the attitude he sometimes gets from the usually nice cheerleader isn’t because she doesn’t like him, it’s because she is jealous of him. Because she likes you.

And she knows that he knows, she realized it after he started teasing her with small comments and the smug looks he would throw at her when he’d catch her checking you out. At first, she was scared. Scared that he would tell you something that she had been trying to hide for so long. Eddie promised not to tell though.

Chrissy lies down, a small huff leaves her lips. You get on the bed and scoot closer to her, reaching for the eyeshadow brush, you dip it into the blue eyeshadow before you lean down.

She is looking at you – staring at you.

“Close your eyes,” you chuckle.

“O-Oh right,” she whispers and closes her eyes.

Eddie puts the magazine down, he leans back in his chair and puts his arm behind his head. He looks at you, you are already wearing your uniform, your hair and makeup is already done. He watches the way you bend down to get closer to Chrissy, your skirt rides up a little, exposing your spandex and more of your skin. He really really doesn’t want to look at you in that way but he can’t look away either.

You are his friend and he really loves your friendship and how easy things are between the two of you but you are beautiful.

And you are sexy.

You suddenly turn around and glance at him, you catch him staring at you. Eddie’s eyes widen but he plays it cool, smirking at you. Your eyes flash with amusement, you raise your brows at him, a smirk tugs at your lips.

“Stop staring, Munson.”

Eddie gives you a cocky grin, “I can’t look away from a beautiful sunset.”

You furrow your brows and a laugh escapes your lips, you shake your head at him, “what does that even mean, you dork?”

You turn back around, still smiling. Chrissy snorts at his words.

“Okay, tell any sane person to look away from two cheerleaders straddling,” he says.

“Eddie!” Chrissy mumbles, opening her eyes to look at you with a disapproving frown.

You grab one of your pillows and turn around, throwing it at him, “perv!” You laugh.

He catches it and presses it against his chest, he smirks at you, “can you do my eyeshadow too, sweetheart?” He jokes.

“Shut up,” you chuckle as you turn back around. You reach for your makeup bag and look for the glitter you bought when you went shopping with Robin, yesterday.

Chrissy leans on her elbows, she glances at Eddie who is checking you out again and then her eyes move back to you. She can see the shine in your eyes, the smile that you are trying to bite back, the flustered look on your face.

It annoys her.

Eddie is amazing and with him, you would actually be in good hands. He is a much better person than Steve ever was. He wouldn’t hurt you, especially not the way he did. Eddie makes you smile, he spends more time with you than Steve did, he buys you little presents that he surprises you with, all the time. He takes you out on dates that ‘clearly’ aren’t dates because you are just friends. Eddie comes to basketball games – he comes to basketball games, just for you.

Eddie would be a good boyfriend, there is no doubt about that. She is not sure if you like each other or not but it seems like it. She should be happy for you and she should support it but the green eyed monster inside of her just refuses to let her be happy for you.

“Are you excited for the party?”

Chrissy snaps out of her thoughts, she looks into your eyes again and nods.

“Are you gonna wear the dress you bought?”

She closes her eyes again when you lean back in with the brush. She feels your fingertips on her cheek when you tilt her face to the side. She takes in a shaky breath.

“Should I?”

You hum.

“You look pretty in it.”

She smiles at your words, “I do?”

“Yes, you always do, Chris.”

She blushes and her smile grows bigger, “thank you,” she whispers.

You smile down at her, “you’re welcome.”

After you finish her makeup, Chrissy takes her uniform and goes into your bathroom to get changed. You clean up the small mess and put away all the makeup and the brushes, you grab your favorite lipstick and walk over to the mirror, you can feel his eyes on you as you start applying the lipstick. A smile tugs at your lips, you glance at him through the mirror. He’s wearing the same smile as you.

“What?”

He shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, “nothing.”

You furrow your brows, you smack your lips together and look at your reflection one more time before you turn around to face him.

“Why are you smiling?”

He shrugs and gets up from the chair, he grabs the green hair bow and walks towards you.

“I like watching you get ready,” he says.

“You do?” You smile.

He nods, “mhmm.”

He stops in front of you and looks down at you as he holds up the green hair bow, “turn around.”

You turn around, facing the mirror again. He steps closer to you. You can smell his cologne, it’s a new one. It smells even better than the previous one he used. The smell of smoke always lingers around him though, nothing can hide the smell – not the cologne, not the aftershave, not his shampoo which surprisingly smells like apples, not the cinnamon from his favorite gum.

Eddie’s hands are gentle, his brows are furrowed in concentration, he presses his lips together as he puts the bow in your hair.

Something about this makes you giggle. Eddie being in your bedroom isn’t unusual but him helping you get ready for the game, putting a bow in your hair is very unusual.

His eyes flash with amusement as he raises his head to look at your reflection in the mirror, “what’s so funny?”

You shrug and continue watching him, “just you helping me get ready for a laundry basket game.”

He snorts.

“I’m helping you get ready for your performance and I’m only going there for you, sweets.”

Your heart warms at his words.

“And then you’re also coming to the bonfire party with me.”

“With you.” He nods.

“Alright, I’m done,” he grins and flicks your ponytail before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug, leaning his chin on your shoulder, causing you to giggle again.

You grab his forearms and lean back.

“Do you hug all your friends that way?”

He chuckles and pulls you even closer, “nah only the special ones, babe,” he smirks and buries his face in your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume and body wash.

You giggle and tilt your head to the side, “how many special ones are there?”

“Just one.”

You narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him, he smirks at you still.

“You’re my very special one.”

He isn’t joking about that, despite the teasing look on his face, he is saying the truth. You are special to Eddie. You haven’t been friends for that long, you started talking last summer, back in august but you have only gotten really close after your breakup with Steve. It feels like you have been friends for much longer than that though. The moment you first started hanging out, you instantly got attached to each other. Not a single day goes by when you don’t spend time together, he loves being with you and you love being with him.

Things feel natural, easy and just good when you are with each other.

You look into each other's eyes for a moment, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything. Sometimes that’s enough.

A smile tugs at your lips as you look at him. His smile grows as well and before you know it, you both start laughing for no reason.

Chrissy walks back into the room to see you in his embrace. She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She clears her throat.

You and Eddie look away from each other, the smile still ever present on your faces. You don’t notice the jealousy or the bitterness on her face. He does.

“Can we go?”

You glance at Eddie who nods at you with a shrug. He is definitely not excited for the game, you told him that he doesn’t have to go but he claimed that he wants to go, for you.

You smile at them both, “let’s go!”

Things between Steve and Billy were tense all night. You could tell from the moment they walked out into the gym, the glares they sent each other were more intense than usual, they wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and not to mention Steve’s bleeding nose, he tried to hide it but he kept wiping his nose and you noticed the blood on the back of his hand.

He looked angry and frustrated. You noticed it, right away.

She didn’t.

Despite the tension and the weird energy that surrounded one of the best players on the team, they still won against the opposing team and took another win home, which of course has to be celebrated.

Lovers Lake is filled with people, the bonfire party that had been planned for weeks is in full swing, loud music is sounding through the speakers, the smell of burning wood mixed with the smell of the crisp spring air brings you comfort. The cold months are over and the warm weather is finally approaching.

The beer you have been drinking all night makes you feel a little tipsy but you feel calm and the stars in the sky make you smile as you lay on the grass with Eddie. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air.

You turn your head and look around, a few people are sitting by the fire. You see Chrissy and Heather talking to a few girls from the cheer squad. You see Nancy sitting on a log with Jonathan, they are both laughing, leaning closer to each other, Steve is sitting on a different log, he is holding a red solo cup in his hand, he looks into the fire with a dull look on his face.

You raise your brows, you look at the three of them. Odd. Shouldn’t he be the one next to her? Shouldn’t he be the one whispering to her? Shouldn’t he be the one making her laugh?

“Do you think there’s more out there?” Eddie asks, pulling your attention away from him.

“Hmm?”

Eddie repeats his question and you turn back to look at him, he is pointing up at the sky, “like aliens and shit.”

You scoot closer to him, looking at the way he squints his eyes as he smokes.

“Hmm, maybe,” you shrug, “I think there’s more than just aliens though.”

“Oh, do you?” He asks, turning to face you, “tell me more.”

“I think there’s other universes.”

He raises his brows, waiting for you to explain more.

“I think there are different worlds, different versions of us – like, maybe there's a version of us fighting interdimensional monsters right now,” you joke, which he seems to love.

His eyes light up at your words and he laughs.

“Maybe we are slaying a dark wizard right now – what was his name again, Vecman? You know the one from your new campaign?”

Eddie laughs loudly and he shakes his head, “it’s Vecna, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes and snort.

“Right, we are killing Vecna, right now.”

“Are we normal humans or?”

“No, we have superpowers.”

“What kind of superpowers?”

You put your finger on your chin and look up, “hmm… you got super strength, super speed,” you pause and look into his eyes, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight, his eyes are dark. Your eyes widen, “you’re a vampire!”

His jaw drops, his eyes widen, “I’m a vampire?”

“Yes!”

“That means I had to die – wait! Did you bring me back from the dead? You know, since you’re a witch?”

"Absolutely,” you giggle.

“That’s so sick, sweetheart.”

“Right?”

You both giggle as you stare at each other. His eyes fall to the chain around your neck, the one that he had put on you earlier tonight. He reaches his hand out and touches it.

“Maybe we are both rockstars in a different world.”

“Both of us?” You laugh, “I can see you being a rockstar but me?”

“Hush. You are helping me write songs and you can play guitar now – well a little, never as good as me but yeah,” he says, cockily. Smirking at you.

You shake your head, snorting at his words.

“Maybe you are my groupie.”

“You wish!” You slap his shoulder, making him laugh again.

“Okay okay, not a groupie – you are the lead singer and I’m the sexy guitarist.”

“Mhmm.”

You lie back again and look up at the stars, a grin takes over your face, “or maybe you are my groupie.”

“Oh absolutely, I’d totally be your groupie if you were a rockstar, y/n.”

You and Eddie are in your own little world, you always are. You don’t care about anything or anyone else when you are with each other. The rest of the world melts away when you spend time together.

You don’t care about the people around you or the awful music that one of the jocks picked out, the prying eyes of the judging girls from the cheer squad. You just don’t care about anything.

You don’t even notice the curious eyes of your ex boyfriend but Eddie does, after you get up to get a new drink. His eyes find a sulking Steve Harrington, who is still sitting by the fire. His girlfriend is long gone and so is her friend, Eddie doesn’t bother to look around for them. He keeps his eyes on Steve, watching the way his eyes follow you. Eddie wonders why he looks so miserable, because of Nancy and Jonathan or because of you? It seems to be the latter, he could be looking for her but instead he is watching you.��

A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, how stupid can someone be? He wonders.

Suddenly, Steve straightens his back and his expression changes from miserable to curious and tense? He turns his head, looking right at him. Eddie raises his brows when he finds himself locking eyes with him. Steve looks confused, his eyes flicker back and forth between you and him.

Eddie follows his gaze to see what confuses him so much. He is looking at you and at the guy who is shamelessly checking you out as you laugh at something he said to you.

Eddie snorts. Of course. If there is one thing that he got used to when going out with you then it’s you being hit on, every damn time.

The guy is tall, probably taller than him. His shoulders are broad beneath the flannel, it’s clear that he’s some sort of athlete. He looks familiar but Eddie doesn’t recognize him.

Curiously, Eddie watches the interaction from afar, sipping his beer.

You are holding a drink in your hand, you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. Eddie can see the smile on your face, you nod to whatever he is saying to you. He steps closer to you, pretending not to hear you properly, he leans closer and licks his lips when he looks down your shirt.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “douchebag.”

The music is loud but he still hears the approaching footsteps, narrowing his eyes, he almost laughs in surprise when he sees Steve. Getting up, he dusts the grass off of his jeans and finishes his drink.

Steve stops in front of him, when Eddie sees the look of disbelief on his face, he almost bursts out laughing.

“I’m not selling tonight,” he mumbles.

Steve shakes his head, furrowing his brows at his words, “I don’t wanna buy anything.”

“Oh, to what do I owe you the pleasure then, King Steve?” Eddie asks, mockingly. He expects Steve to look annoyed but he doesn’t, just very confused.

“You’re not gonna do anything?” Steve asks.

Eddie chuckles, his brows draw together and he tilts his head in question.

“What do you mean?”

Steve raises his hand, pointing his finger at you and the guy who is now holding his hand out to you – you are writing something on his palm, presumably your number.

Eddie rolls his eyes again.

“This guy is flirting with her,” Steve mumbles.

“I’m not her keeper.”

Now he looks even more confused, if he didn’t look so serious, Eddie would have laughed. But then he realizes why he looks at him so shocked. Steve must think that you and Eddie are dating and he doesn’t understand how he as your ‘boyfriend’ just lets you flirt with some other guy.

Steve sighs, he turns around. Eddie watches the way he stares the guy down, a look of distaste appears on his face.

“That’s Ray, he used to be the captain of the basketball team. I always hated that guy.” Steve mumbles.

That’s a lie. Steve used to look up to him, when he was a freshman in high school and he was new on the team, Ray had seemed like the coolest guy around, he was the most popular guy at school, the girls loved him, the boys wanted to be like him and so did Steve until he became popular too and he realized that he could be even better than him. Ray was just a popular guy but Steve Harrington became the King of the school.

A title he used to be so proud of is just an embarrassing part of his past now.

Steve is certain that you and Eddie are dating. He could just ask to be sure but he thinks that it’s too obvious. You are dating. But why are you flirting with the former captain of the basketball team? Why are you writing your number on his hand? Are you in an open relationship with Eddie?

An open relationship is something you never approved of, you always made that very clear, not that Steve suggested something like this. Tommy always joked about it to Carol and you looked disgusted and always voiced your opinions on it.

What happened?

Did the hurt change you so much?

Ray walks away from you and you turn around, walking back to Eddie when someone else steps in front of you and both Eddie and Steve sigh in annoyance.

Billy Hargrove. Always there to ruin the night.

“Getting bored of the freak?”

The smile on your face falls, a sour expression takes over and you tense up. You can’t stand Billy. Not only does he keep trying to get in your pants while he has a thing going on with your friend, he also keeps insulting Eddie and picking fights with Steve, which shouldn’t be any of your concerns but something tells you that Steve’s bleeding nose and the bruise on Billy’s jaw has got something to do with you.

“Fuck off, Billy,” you mumble, trying to move past him. He doesn’t let you. He steps in front of you and chuckles.

“Don’t be like that, baby.”

You scrunch your face up in disgust, “don’t call me that.”

His eyes move up and down, he looks at your exposed skin and you suddenly regret wearing a low cut shirt.

“Ray Parker, huh?” He smirks, licking his lips, “going for the jocks again? The freak ain’t doing a good job at satisfying you? You know, you can just come to me instead of going for some retired team captain.”

“Jesus, shut up, Billy.”

Billy chuckles, his eyes twinkle with lust as he continues to stare at you, “when will you stop playing hard to get? We both know that you will end up under me at some point.”

If you didn’t feel disgusted by him already, you would definitely be now. Anger rushes through you and you roll your eyes.

“Keep dreaming, Hargrove.”

"Oh, I will."

You clench your jaw as you look into his blue eyes. You hate the cocky look on his face, the self assured expression that he always has. The smirk that he wears. God, you want to punch him.

You go to walk past him and surprisingly, he lets you walk away this time but then he says something that makes your blood boil.

“Yeah be a good girl and run back to the freak, no one else will fuck that loser.”

You halt in your tracks and you clench your fists. You had always been protective over your friends but especially him. Eddie may be good at pretending that the bullying doesn’t get to him, he learned to ignore them or to throw some punchlines back but you are not going to stand by and watch how others degrade and belittle him.

You turn back around and his smirk grows when he notices how angry you look.

“I never thought you’d be into some trailer trash a–”

You never punched someone before but you always wanted to know what it feels like to slam your fist into someone’s face, someone that you can’t stand. You didn’t think that it would hurt so bad but the look on his face and the bruise that he will wear later on, makes it all worth it.

His head snaps to the side and he looks stunned for a moment.

You hear the gasps around you, the chuckles from a few boys.

A part of you expects him to hit you back, you are no stranger to his anger issues. The reaction you get isn’t one that you expected though. He furrows his brows and suddenly he bursts into laughter, his eyes flash with amusement and his pupils dilate even further.

You want to punch him again.

“Shit baby, I’m even more into you now,” he smirks.

A groan of disgust falls from your lips and you turn around to leave before he can do or say anything else.

Eddie and Steve stand there with stunned looks on their faces. Eddie looks impressed and proud, a smirk is tugging at his lips.

Steve’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in surprise. Out of all the things he expected to see tonight, this wasn’t one of them. The feeling that rushes through him is intense.

You should have punched him a long time ago.

“That’s kinda hot.”

Eddie snorts at Steve’s words.

Yeah, it was hot.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, smirking as you walk back to him. He sees the way your eyes flash with confusion when you notice Steve next to him. “I didn’t know you had such a mean right hook.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. You don't even acknowledge him.

“He had that coming.”

Eddie throws his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily, not caring that your ex boyfriend is staring.

“That’s my girl.”

He wonders what Billy said to you to make you this mad.

“You gonna hit me next, big girl?” Eddie jokes.

You giggle, biting down on your lip, you look into Eddie’s amused eyes, completely dismissing his presence. You pull away from him, he looks at you curiously, eyeing the smugness in your eyes. Before he can react, you reach your arm behind him and slap his ass.

Eddie’s jaw drops at the smack he received, he snorts at your action, squinting his eyes at you, he tries to give you a mean look which only makes you giggle again. You step back when you realize what he’s about to do. Just as he tries to swat your ass, you run off, giggling.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run after you, trying to catch you. Your laughter is loud as you run away from him, pushing past the groups of people as you near the forest.

Steve's brows are still raised and his face is still stunned.

Many emotions went through him today; anger, sadness, irritation, jealousy but mostly confusion.

He watches Eddie grabbing you from behind, he hears your squeal and he sees the way Eddie kisses your cheek, again.

He blinks and forces himself to look away, only now noticing how wrong it still feels to see you with him.

But it's not wrong, right?

It's not wrong because you aren't his anymore.

He let go of you because you had asked him to, because he loves her, because he wants to spend his life with her.

He still has love for you, he always will but you are a part of his past now, a past that keeps calling him. The past that keeps haunting him in his mind and in his dreams.

Sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he stares at the telephone on his nightstand and he wonders what it would be like to call you, to hear your voice again, to ask you how you are doing, to ask if you are happy with the life you are living now that you are strangers to each other.

Sometimes he wants to call but he never does. You won't pick up the phone. He is sure of that.

But, if you called, he would pick up the phone, anytime, without hesitation.

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @hellfire--cult @screammunson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie @somethingvicked

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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mintys-playarea · 8 months

Text

RUGGIE B. W A DUNCE! PLAYING! LOVER!

You had no idea how you were able to get a man such as him to fall in love with you. He was clever, sweet, a great cook, and an absolute cutie... Ruggie was yours and you were his!

You had many flaws. You weren't very smart, you had tendencies to mess with people... The list could go on. Yet he still loved you.

It was a cool, autumn day. Warm colored leaves fell from trees, leaving the courtyard a blend of reds, browns and oranges. There were plenty students walking and talking happily along with one another, the smell of pumpkin spice wafting in the air. Though you were relatively uninterested before... A particular student has caught your eyes. It was none other than the Azul Ashengrotto walking around, promoting his most recent sale for the Mostro Lounge... This was the perfect opportunity.

The leaves crunched beneath your shoes as you tapped his leg, your icy cold hands sneaking up his pant leg and touching his warm calf. He shivered with a loud yelp, immediately turning around to find no one there. You were hiding behind a nearby tree. You weren't hidden well of course, but Azul couldn't see you. He shook his head, sighing and brushing it off as the wind. As he continued to promote the sale, you snuck up on him again. You tapped his leg the same way as before, except... You weren't fast enough this time. He kicked you and hoisted you up with stern eyes.

"Do you understand how disrespectful you are?!" Azul screeched. He clearly disliked getting his legs touched like that.

You sputtered trying to come up with an excuse, panicking as you see the Leech twins starting to come into view. You squirmed as Azul held still and started walking.

"Excuse me boys, but may you help hand out flyers for me as i return this rascal to their owner? They were very disrupting to me, we wouldn't want that happening with to another," Azul had a slight pout as he continued walking. He muttered something to himself quietly before going into the Savannaclaw mirror.

Leona sighed as he saw Azul waltz up to him. "And how am i responsible for the herbivore??" He said with a tired look.

"Well, aren't they always over here? I'd assume it's because they have something with you?" Azul responded, almost annoyed with the fact he had to speak with Leona.

"No... You'd have to find Ruggie. He's— Right here," Leona groaned before returning to his room.

"Oh, hey there Az! Whatcha doin' here? And why do ya got lovebug there?" Ruggie commented on you being carried by Azul like a critter he finds dirty.

"I found.. er.. Lovebug messing with me during my promotion for the new Mostro Lounge sale... So you're the one taking care of.. this thing?"

"Aye, they're person, you know! Not just a 'thing.' But yes, i am in charge of taking care of Lovebug."

"I'll just hand them over already... You should really keep a watch on them. They're probably going to cause a big problem if you dont." Azul shook his head before leaving Savannaclaw finally.

"So... Lovebug, what was that about?"

You pulled out a to-go box of fresh food. Food you stole from Azul. A goofy smile spread across your face.

"Ahh... I see! I've trained you well... You deserve a treat for that!" Ruggie smiled along with you, bringing you into the kitchen.

"I know ya may not be tha brightest sometimes, but you're a sneaky lil' thang fo'sho! Here, ya wanna help bake some cookies to go with that meal?"

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

TAGS!!: @cheezy-moon

A little note on how the tagging system works:

If I know you like a character and I end up writing for it, I'll tag you in it (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

Also, I have no clue what to put for name replacements so... I'll just do pet names! :D also I wanted to keep this in second person, but I kept it gn when I had to use the pronouns (*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀*⁠)

I also forgot how the mirrors work (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) and I gave ruggie a special way of talking! I like writing him speak like that :3

#disney twst #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #twisted wonderland ruggie #ruggie x reader #ruggie x yuu #Twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #Ruggie bucchi fluff #The main course ♡#savannaclaw #azul ashengrotto #azul twst #twisted wonderland azul #Tweels #octavinelle

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cloudysleepingzone · 3 months

Note

Heya^^ could we possibly get some romantic hcs about dazai, atsushi, and possibly fyodor with a artist s/o, they sometimes doodle on unimportant papers when the meetings are way too boring for them , and sometimes when they have free time they draw their lover in their sketchbook, maybe a painting or two of their lover <3 anyways love your writing and don't forget to hydrate! Have a wonderful day or night!!

BSD with an Artist S/O

Decided to add Chuuya and Tecchou due to a very similar request!

Contents : Dazai, Atsushi, Fyodor, Chuuya and Tecchou x Reader (separate), gender neutral reader (they/them used), fluff, suggestive for Dazai's part and sorta Tecchuu? Not really. Pet Names.

Dazai Osamu

Doesn't matter what your drawing, he's watching.

Can you blame him though? He just loves watching his lover just doing something they enjoy!

If you draw him he will start acting like a dramatic prince for a solid 10 minutes.

"(Name), draw me like one of your French girls~"

You sit quietly at your desk, the surface covered with your sketchbook and a handful of pencils and pens. "Belllaaa~!" Though your peace is interrupted by your loving boyfriend trying to get out of doing his job again. "What are you drawing beautiful?" He leans over you, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he props his chin on your shoulder. The sketchbook page had small doodles of the two of you, mostly just small cute doodles of holding hands, Dazai tilts his head slight to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "You know, if you need any ideas you could always draw us with less clothes~"

Atsushi Nakajima

Our sweet boy

He's so supportive of your work he loves seeing the look on your face when you make something your proud of

You draw him? Oh boy...he can't even form words

"You're getting even better sweetheart, you keep improving!"

Your a mess, your finger tips covered in different shades of blue and grey, just like the tip of your paintbrush. Atsushi was behind the canvas, laying comfortably on your shared bed with a soft smile on his lips. "Am I doing alright? I'm not moving too much?" He was doing an amazing job. A perfect job. "Your doing good sweetheart, I'm almost done". You've drawn him from memory plenty of times before, but it feels so much more romantic with him right in front of you. "You look really pretty when your focused..." He mumbles under his breath, even if your the one painting him, he's the one doing the most admiring <3

Fyodor Dostoevsky

To a non familiar eye he seems completely uninterested or even annoyed at your interests. But that's far from true

He adores your work though he sucks at showing it

Got a piece you're really proud of? Yep he's putting it in a fancy frame

You? Drawing him? Aren't you just a sweetheart...

It was already late at night, the curtains had been drawn and you were currently in the shower. Meanwhile your husband Fyodor was already dressed in something more comfortable and was waiting for his dear. Fyodors finger tips gently run over the cover of your current sketch book, which laid on top of a desk in your shared bedroom. He picks up the sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly before a certain page catches his eye, a page seemingly dedicated to just him. His normally cold and hard gaze softens a bit at the sight, some being full line art and color and others being simple messy doodles. His admiring is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Sweetheart what are you doing?". Your husband gently closes your sketchbook, setting it down onto the expensive hard work surface. "Just admiring your work my dear..."

Chuuya Nakahara

New art supplies? He's buying it. You want a new set of expensive as hell paint brushes? Pfft, pocket change.

If you even mention getting into a new form of art he's already handing you his credit card without another question.

"It looks pretty already doll, make sure to show me when it's done yea?"

Like Fyodor, he puts his favorite pieces in fancy frames <3

You walk into Chuuya's at home office, not bothering to knock (not like he minds) "Chuuya, I finished that painting you wanted to see!" He slowly turns his chair around, a small smirk on his face, completely ignoring his task of sorting through files for now. "Let me see it babe". You turn the canvas around, showing him your paintwork you've spent a few weeks on. He stand from his seat, walking up to you and placing a gloved hand on your cheek, planting a loving kiss on the other. "It looks beautiful sweetheart, just like you. I'll be hanging it up." Chuuya had already started a small selection of your art that was displayed in fancy gold and silver frames over a fireplace, in the style as if they were million dollar paintings. To him they may as well be, to him your art is priceless. Your priceless.

Tecchou Suehiro

You could make something weird and he'll like it

He will just silently watch you draw whatever, doesn't matter what.

"That looks good sweetheart"

Drawing him? God I don't know if his heart can take something so sweet!

Here you are, sitting on your boyfriend's back while he does sit ups. It was actually pretty normal at this point. The only sounds in the room was the huffs coming from Tecchuu throat and the sounds of pencil scratching against paper. "Hm...maybe I should draw you like this, it would be pretty good anatomy practice" you quickly sketch up some messy line art you can fix later, shifting slightly to show Tecchuu. "Huff Looks good" Despite the slight strain in his muscles he's able to respond pretty easily. I get up from your seat on his back, letting him get up with a groan before stretching his arms. Moving your pencil back to the paper, you continue to look from your boyfriend to the paper back and forth. "This is a bit better" you your sketch book around, it was just a simple sketch of his muscular figure but it was like fine art in his eyes. "You've been improving a lot haven't you?"

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em1e · 1 year

Text

ᶻz feat. draken + mikey + ran !!

tokyo revengers && haircare

☓ they let u touch their hair !! ran's is a lil suggestive :3

ᶻz・ken ryuguji ‘draken’

⠀ ⬤ and helping upkeep his dark dye job.

“your roots are coming in.” you hum out with a tap to his forehead.

draken swats your hand away with a grimace, standing from his kneeling position in front of the bike he was fixing while wiping his hands on the rag he keeps in his belt loop, “yeah? ‘ve been meaning to get some dye.”

you smile, “can i do it?”

“you gotta dying degree?, his eyes narrow to slits, quick to ask.

“cosmetology degree,” you correct, unwavering, “and how hard can it be? you seem to do just fine.”

“i’ve been doing it for a couple years.” he rolls his eyes, “and it’s so dark, i dunno how good of a job you’ll do.”

“tomato, tomato.” you wave off, “what brand do you get? i’ll stop by the store and grab a box before you’re home.”

he doesn’t have it in him to argue - not when you’re giving him such a big grin and those puppy-dog eyes - he can’t say no.

“revlon,” he relents, “but if you mess up you’re never doin’ it again.”

“aye aye captain.” you giggle, standing on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before you’re practically skipping out of the garage.

when he comes back to your shared home, you’re sitting in the living room, a towel in the middle of the floor with one of the dining room chairs set in the center of it. he raises an eyebrow at it, and you hold up the box with a smile.

“ready?”

draken changes from his work clothes while you mix the bowl of dye. he ends up sitting in the chair while you drape an old hand towel around his neck and press a kiss to his nose when you’re satisfied with the placement.

“try not to get it in my scalp, yeah?” he grimaces at how dark the color is, suddenly very aware of each stroke you put onto his head despite you being mindful of each part you section off before moving to the next. it takes you maybe thirty minutes before you’re satisfied, making sure to use what dye remains to blend it in with the rest of his hair. you give another kiss to his forehead when you’re finished, and grimace when your nose presses into the still very wet dye.

draken wipes away the little dot smeared on the tip of your nose with the corner of the hand towel, smiling at how you perk up at such a little interaction.

“‘kay, it has to stay on for 25 minutes and then you can rinse it out.”

“i know,” he laughs, “i do this like once a month.”

you pinch his shoulder with a huff, “i was just reminding you.”

draken stays in the chair as the 25 minutes pass, worried about dripping dye on your brand new carpet, and lets you help him wash it out when the time comes, leaning over the edge of the bathtub while you run water and shampoo and conditioner over his hair.

you towel it try while he sits on the toilet, pressing a kiss to his forehead when you’re finished and smiling at how well of a job you’ve done.

“none on your scalp.” you hum out, stepping back when he stands to look at himself in the mirror. you adore him like this, hair down and falling over his shoulders. he runs a hand through the still slightly damp hair, examining with the critique of a college professor.

then he gives you a toothy grin, brushing some fallen pieces out of his face, “you did good. might have to make this a habit.”

ᶻz・manjiro sano ‘mikey’

⠀ ⬤ and letting you put his hair into different styles.

mikey was practically purring while you ran your fingers through his messy blond hair.

the sensation of your fingertips against his scalp was magical, leaving him to bonelessly slumping against you while you part and section as you please, and despite you tapping his shoulder multiple times and mumble something about him needing to stay sitting up straight so you can properly fix his hair, he always ends up in the same position.

it makes your job twenty times harder, tying up his pretty locks at an awkward angle and having to redo it multiple times when it’s uneven, and part of you suspects maybe he’s doing it on purpose - the need to have your fingers in his hair ever present with the sighs that fall from his lips.

still, you do as well as you can, and press a soft kiss to the top of his head when you’re finished.

he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know you’ve done a good job. his body goes even limper to lean his full weight against you, sighing softly as you wrap your arms around his waist and hook your head over his shoulder.

“how’s it look?” he asks more out of courtesy, since you did just spend the last twenty minutes doing whatever it is you’ve decided to do to his head.

“cute.” you answer with a smile, “wanna see?”

he hums, eyes closing when the warmth that radiates from you seeps into his back. he really doesn’t want to move.

and it’s as if you can see into the future - having already brought over a small hand mirror for him to look into when you grabbed the various hair ties and clips that are currently in his hair. you offer it to him gently, and he takes it with one eye open, head tilting as he takes in his new style.

it is cute, he can admit. small colorful butterfly clips sat mixed into the usual half-up hairdo he normally wears.

“you did good.” he turns his head slightly to give you a small peck on the cheek, smiling when he sees the blush that flares from the spot as if he’s burned you.

“thanks.” your voice is quiet, but giddy. happy he’s happy.

he sets the mirror face down onto his stomach, closing his eyes and letting himself relax in your embrace. some stray clips poke into the back of his head, but he can’t really find it in himself to care when the air around you brings such peace.

he thinks he could stay like this forever, laying with whatever silly decorations in his hair if it means you’ll stay there, too.

ᶻz・ran haitani

⠀ ⬤ and braiding his stupidly dyed hair.

“you are so annoying,” you groan out, undoing the entirety of the braid you’ve just done when ran turns his head to face you with a grin.

“what?” he asks innocently, as if he hasn’t been the reason you’ve spent thirty minutes on his hair and still haven’t gotten a single braid finished.

you replace the hair tie on your wrist, twisting him to face forward by his cheeks to restart, “we were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. rindou is gonna kill me if we’re late to this stupid dinner.”

his grin falters at the mention of his brother’s name, turning to face you fully despite your protests, “who cares ‘bout him. you ‘nd i can have plenty of fun without goin’ to that dinner with him.”

the look you set him with would send any normal person running, but ran haitani has seen it all. death doesn’t scare him as much as it probably should, and neither does the way your eyes are scanning over his face.

“it’s his birthday.” you settle for instead, forcing him to turn back around so you can start over with a frustrated sigh.

“he ‘nd i already celebrated.” he says dismissively, turning back around despite you clicking your tongue and dropping your hands into your lap with another sigh.

your aggravation is palpable, clear with the crease in your brows, “ran, i’m serious. i still need to get dressed and the reservation is five minutes from now and the place is almost fifteen if we speed-”

he shuts you up with a kiss, pulling you towards him with a desperation that has your eyes fluttering closed and returning it as if it’s something as natural as breathing. your hands come up to tangle in his hair, fingertips meeting the hair tie still separating the half of it from the rest, and you pull. far harder than necessary, and it has him pulling away from you with a groan.

it’s enough to tug the hair tie out completely, and you’re satisfied with the way his mixed colors fall over his shoulders and frame his face.

the grin he gives you is sharp, all teeth and teasing, and your eyebrows raise with a pointed finger, “no ran. you are going to this dinner with your hair down and i am going to get dressed.” you slide out from behind him as quickly as your body will allow, already in the process of stripping off your shirt to put on the clothes you’ve set out previously.

“c’mon babe, we’re already gonna be late.” his arms wrap around your bare torso, teeth pressing into your shoulder from how hard he’s grinning, “what’s a few extra minutes? s’not like he’ll be alone, izana ‘nd the others’ll be there to keep him company.”

“ran.” your voice is warning, but you’re letting him pull you towards the bed and your resolve falters with each second he’s holding you. you are already late anyways. what’s twenty more minutes?

#salmon rowe #draken x reader #ryuguji ken x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #mikey sano x reader #sano mikey x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken #mikey sano #ran haitani

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 5 months

Text

so have y'all seen the new official art?

"You Fucking Minx" | Modern!AU Smut Drabble

✧ word count ➼ ~800 ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, smut, afab!reader, levi is someone in a photoshoot, the new official art made me horny dont @ me, i also dont know how to come up with titles and this is what my sleep-deprived brain came up with i'M SORRY, as usual minors interacting will be blocked

From the minute that you saw Levi in that god damn suit, you knew you were going to lose it. You already knew that he was going to look stunning, and remembered how peculiar he was when you were shopping for it with him. It had to be the right color, sizing, and the fabric had to be made of the right material. He even bought a matching set of gloves to go with it.

As soon as the photos were done and he walked off-stage, you dragged him away and into his private dressing room. The original plan was to wait until you got home before you tore that suit off him, but you were impatient and ravenous upon seeing him.

"...shit," he cursed to himself, groaning as he felt you drag your tongue from the base of his cock, up his shaft, and to the tip. Your tongue swirled around it twice before you wrapped your lips around him, grabbing onto his shaft with your hand as you began bobbing your head up and down.

It was taking everything in him to keep himself from holding your head down to thrust up into you. Holding himself back was becoming especially difficult, given how much you had been edging him ever since you dragged him offstage.

Every time he felt his abs begin to tense up, he'd feel you stop, giving him a mischievous look as you continued to tease him.

Levi didn't want to immediately fuck you at first. The suit was expensive and dark enough to the point that any mess that you could potentially leave behind would be more than visible—and considering that he still had the latter half of the photoshoot to do, cum stains on his fancy, black suit was not something that he could afford—but you had edged him one too many times, and he felt like he was going to implode if he didn't get to fuck you right then and there.

Using one hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes, he pulled you off him and lifted you, dragging you onto him so that you were straddling him around the chair. Levi impatiently bunched your skirt up above your ass, and pushed your panties to the side, letting out a quiet tut as he felt how wet you were.

He groaned and shut his eyes, resting his head against the wall behind him as he felt you slide onto his cock, your slick inviting him in as you surrounded his cock with your velvety walls.

Following his movements, you began to slowly move up and down on his cock, holding onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

However, your movements clearly weren't fast enough for him, with Levi being more than frustrated from your earlier edging, so his hips almost immediately began bucking up into yours, with his fingers digging into the meat of your ass.

The impact of his hips against yours sent shockwaves throughout your body and Levi was only able to look up into your elated gaze as it got harder for him to stay quiet.

"You fucking minx," he cursed through his teeth, his breathing rapidly destabilizing, "just dragging me backstage and then pulling this shit."

All you could really respond with only included whines and gasps, with it being nearly impossible to speak. Each time his hips met yours, you felt your breath getting knocked out of your lungs and you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt your legs shaking around him, with that tight knot beginning to form deep within your core.

Levi felt you tightening up around him and gripped onto your hips tighter, holding you in place as he continued to drive his cock up into you, cursing to himself as he felt you gushing around him, only getting closer to his own edge when he heard how hard you were trying to keep quiet.

"Gonna cum into that pretty pussy of yours," he whispered in between breaths. He was getting close and it was driving him through the roof with how many times he had been edged that night. "That's what you wanted, yeah?"

Upon hearing your muffled 'mhm', Levi grit his teeth and slammed into you one final time, letting out a quiet guttural groan as he shot his load into you, with you gasping as you felt his cock twitching deep within you, coating your insides with his seed.

He rested his forehead against yours as he took deep breaths to stabilize himself again, feeling his cum dripping out the side of your pussy and down his cock again. The suit was going to get dirty no matter what he did now. He knew he'd have to get out of this photoshoot and make up some excuse to go home.

Levi finally pulled away, looking into your eyes with an exasperated look before grumbling,

"You're buying me a new suit."

#: @levisbrat25 @moonmalice @cathybarn @tclbts @faverec @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @noctemys @sixpennydame @dumbdollyx @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @meltingforthatackerman @chocoyanchan @issacovegx @captainleviswifee @mrsmiagreer @dizzyandkokoo @youre-ackermine @starrylevi join my taglist!

#i took way too long just to find an image to attach #someone end me #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #n.sfw #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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friendship-ditch · 5 months

Text

Compromise

(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: A little drabble of you doing Katniss’s makeup.

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff.

Word Count: 836

“Stay still–what did I just say? Stop squirming around!”

Katniss giggled, wiggling out of your grip. Your makeup brush left a nice red (unintentional) line across her cheek and down her jaw.

“Oh great, that’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you set the brush aside.

Katniss laughed too. “You really want to put that on my face?” She eyed the bright red blush with unease. “It’ll make me look like a clown!”

“A beautiful clown.” You replied. She smiled. “And I’ll blend it in. Afterwards, you won’t even be able to see it, I promise.”

“I don’t know. What is the rest of the look supposed to be?”

“Red eyeshadow, that’s all I’m going to tell you.” You said with a smug smile. You gently cupped her face, wiping the misplaced makeup away with your thumb. Her cheeks still remained pink beneath your touch. “But it’s going to look beautiful on you. So stop moving and let me put this on.”

She hardly ever let you mess with makeup like this, finding the feeling of too much on her face to be appalling. But after weeks of you begging, she finally gave in. Though she was starting to regret it…

Katniss groaned in protest but stopped moving. Having just come back from training, she was looking forward to taking a nap but you pounced on her with the earliest opportunity to fulfill her promise.

She couldn’t help but giggle again as you rubbed the makeup into her face with your thumbs, tickling her sensitive cheek.

“Y/n.” She whined, gentle hands flailing out to try to push you away. It was a failed attempt.

“No way.” You pushed her onto her back on the bed. “You’re staying right here until I’m done.” Climbing on top of her, you sat on her stomach and made sure she couldn’t fight out of your grasp. You grabbed the eyeshadow pallet.

She fell limp beneath you. You’d finally trapped your prey.

When you finished applying the eyeshadow and the eyeliner, you carefully glued a few jewels to her face, around her gray eyes. Then you sat back and admired her with a proud expression.

For a moment you wondered if you’d put too much blush on her face as she was now a bright red color. When you felt her cheek and realized how hot it was you snickered.

“Well, now the blush is too much.” You set your hand on the side of her face and leaned in closer, using your thumb to gently flick an eyelash away. “I’m trying my best to not make you look like a tomato, love, but you’re as red as one.”

“If you weren’t sitting on top of my stomach and slowly suffocating me I wouldn’t be this red.”

“I don’t know… I think you’re just embarrassed.” You cooed and she flushed even brighter. You leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

Katniss reached a hand up and blocked you from going in for another, eyes sparkling. “Come on, get off of me, I can’t breathe.” She complained and squirmed again.

“I don’t trust you, you’ll try to escape my loving touch.”

“Can we compromise?” She groaned with a smile and you felt the corners of your lips perk up.

“What do you have in mind?”

About 5 minutes later, you were sitting in Katniss’s lap, legs gingerly wrapped around her torso as you applied a soft layer of gloss to her lips. Her eyes were closed as if she couldn’t bear to look at you being this close to her face—or if she was just messing with you. When you spoke her name she offered no reply, playing dead.

You decided to make sure she was still with you.

You pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her shiny lips.

Katniss’s eyes flew open and she let out a soft noise of surprise. She blushed once more. “Now you’re running my makeup.”

“Now you actually care?” You teased as you applied a new layer of gloss to her lips. “There, problem solved.”

Katniss just laughed softly. She wrapped her own arms around you and flipped the two of you over so she was on top of you. Her soft eyes shone with mischief and her glittery lips were spread in a wide smile.

“You should let me do your makeup next.”

You laughed again. “No way. I still have to do your hair.”

“My hair is perfectly fine.”

You reached a hand around her head and ruffled her fluffy hair, messing it up. “No, actually, it’s not. Now I have to fix it.” You fussed with a mischievous chuckle.

Katniss sighed dramatically. She couldn’t help but smile and she leaned down and kissed you once more. She smudged her lip gloss again. “And that too.”

Your hand was still gently curled around the shape of your head and you tilted her head down again for another kiss.

“Maybe we should save that until the end.”

#katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x fem!reader #katniss everdeen x you #catching fire #the hunger games #the mockingjay #x reader #this one is really short but I still love it

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yourelliewillms · 2 months

Note

Heyyy so I just discovered your works recently and I was wondering if you don't mind writing an Ellie with a fem reader who is latina and works as a makeup artist please? I just think the idea doing Ellie's makeup while sitting on her lap being so cute and being on my mind 24/7 currently- no pressure though <3 (Sorry for the awkwardness this is my first time requesting something 😭)

doing ellie's makeup !

sfw, fluff, reader is latina !! (i'm not sure if i did this well bc i'm latina but i didn't want this to fall into stereotypes or smt like that😭😭) alsooo i made a little playlist with songs that i think ellie'd love (argentinian songs, sorry that's all i listen to 💔💔 if you have any recommendations pls tell me !!! and if you don't speak spanish lmk if you liked any of this songs just because i'm curious <3)

ellie's favs !

☆ persiana americana - soda stereo

☆ tus ojos - los cafres

☆ tu geografía - indios

☆ prófugos - soda stereo

☆ 743 - miranda!

☆ ritmo y decepción - miranda!

being a makeup artist means you have to practice all the time. new styles pop up on the internet everyday and you have to catch up on them.

every night, when you're finally home after a long day of work, you'd put all your makeup on the table, sit in front of the mirror, put on some music (specially those songs in spanish that ellie loves) and start letting your imagination flow as you try to create a new and unique makeup style.

hours practicing, you're too concentrated trying to do that graphic eyeliner you've been seeing in all the internet to notice that your girlfriend has already arrived from her work and is on the other side of the door probably getting comfortable after her busy day.

she's in the kitchen having a snack to get her energy back but as soon as ellie hears the music coming from your shared room, she'd drop everything she was doing and open the door to see you just a few inches away from the mirror trying not to mess up your eyeliner.

ellie looks at you for a few seconds and immediately starts "singing" the spanish songs (she's just mumbling but she manages to pronounce some of the words because you've been teaching her spanish since you two met). the way she blows kisses at you from the distance not to ruin your makeup just melts your heart and you blow the kisses back at her.

"can i admire you from here?" ellie definitely loooves sitting on the bed behind you and look at you from the reflection of the mirror. she's with her mouth half open and her eyes follow every move you do, that she even forgets to blink. she's just mesmerized.

you turn around and show her the final result and her face lights up. you close your eyes as she examinates every little detail of your makeup and quickly steals a little peck from your lips resulting into you two giggling and stealing little kisses from each other finally getting the physical contact you craved throughout the day.

"would you..." she mumbles "would you like to practice with me?" her eyes locked with yours and her cheeks turn crimson matching the red lipstick stained on her lips from the kisses she stole from you earlier.

the excitement you feel can't be hidden at all as a wide smile spreads on your face. you quickly sit on the bed beside her but her hands reach your waist and you feel her arms lifting your body just enough to make you sit on her lap.

your eyebrows rise and your face turns all shades of pink. you are used to that kind of behavior of hers although it always makes you feel those butterflies inside your stomach.

before starting, you decide to change the music to one you know she likes. you've made her listen to all the songs in spanish you've heard in your entire life so she has a few favorite ones.

your hands brush her cheeks caressing them before grabbing one brush in your hand and start doing her eyeshadow.

"what color is that?" ellie asked with her eyes closed. she couldn't see the makeup you were using for her eyes. that wasn't the most important thing right now but she wanted to catch up with you.

"gris" you answer in your mother tongue chuckling for yourself as you see her confused facial expression struggling to remember all the words you've taught her in spanish.

"hm..." she hums but she has no idea what it means "brown?"

you giggle "gray."

"yeah, i was going to say that. you didn't let me finish."

after a few minutes, you finish doing her eyeshadow. it was a more dark style since you know that's her favorite, it's not like she asked you to do it that way but you just wanted to do something that she'd like wear.

when she opens her eyes you almost melt at the sight of the green in her eyes being highlighted by the color on her eyelids. gray eyeshadow with sparkles and black eyeliner that added that sexy detail to her look.

she smirks at you when she notices you are totally distracted by her gorgeous eyes. she's right though, your mind is completely blank and the moment her hands squeeze your thighs you go back to reality.

"so pretty" you whisper before planting soft and sweet kisses on her lips.

the moment you have to put her lipstick on, you already know it's going to be the hardest part of the makeup. she's wouldn't stop mumbling the songs, talking to you and laughing when she was supposed to stay still.

as soon as you finish putting her lipstick on, you move your head back to take a look at the final result and all you can see is a bewitching but totally messy makeup on her face that makes her look more kissable than ever.

you can't even let her see the final result because you've already kissed every inch of her cheeks, forehead and nose and now she's covered in the red lipstick from your lips.

HI ANON SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT TOO MUCH 😭😭 i hope you liked it though <33

i didn't know how to end this, i feel like it's weird but that was the best i could do,,,

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x you #the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie headcanons #ellie williams fluff #ellie fluff

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the-sun-and-the-sky · 1 year

Text

The Dress

Summary: A shopping trip leaves Bob with a new obsession.

Pairing: Bob x gf!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, making out in public places, and no beta reading so good luck

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remind me again why I can’t just wear my uniform?” You ask, annoyance creeping into your voice. “It would make everything so much easier.”

You gather a handful of fabric in your hand and twist back and forth in front of the mirrors. Try as you might, you still can’t properly see the back of the dress you’re currently trying on. The pale blue fabric scratches against your hand and you let it drop with a frustrated sigh.

Behind you, your boyfriend chuckles lightly. Without having to turn, you glare at him in the mirror. Bob holds his hands up in surrender as he moves to stand next to you.

“Because this technically isn’t a Navy function,” Bob reminds you gently. “So you’re not required to wear your uniform.”

You sigh again. You hate shopping on a deadline. Especially when none of the options are grabbing your attention.

“And,” your boyfriend’s voice lowers, the southern drawl becoming more pronounced. “I want to see you all dressed up. Want to show you off.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. When you glance over at him, his eyes are dark behind his glasses watching you.

You’d met Bob a few years ago when you’d both been assigned to the same squadron. There hadn’t been anything between you at first, just an appreciation for your skill as a pilot and his as a WSO. And while both of you flew with other WSOs and pilots respectively, you’d still found time to hang out and get to know each other.

Aircraft carriers are lonely places and before long, the two of you struck up a friendship that quickly devolved into other things. And that was how, nearly two years later, you were spending your weekend in a dress shop with your boyfriend, trying on dresses for a mutual friend’s engagement party.

“I’m just gonna…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at the dressing room.

Bob nods and steps back to give you your space as you gather the dress up and make your way across the large, empty room to the curtained-off section. You feel his eyes on you up until the curtain falls shut.

Inside the dressing room, it looks like a bomb went off. Rejected dresses hang haphazardously on their hooks, a mess of colors and fabrics. The blue dress you’re wearing joins them. The airconditioned air hits your bare skin and you shiver as you consider the next option.

Three more dresses hang on the “yet to be tried” hook. With resignation, you reach for the top one, a lovely peach dress with a long skirt and plunging neckline. But you have a hard time getting excited about it.

The strap of the dress catches on another hook and you tug, trying to free it. A hint of red grabs your attention. You hang the peach dress back up, already forgotten, and reach to pull the red one out. Silk brushes against your fingers. You’d forgotten about this one.

Normally, when you weren’t in uniform, you preferred to wear soft, pale colors and loose-fitting outfits. You liked how they fit and how they complimented your skin. That familiarity was reflected in the choice of dresses you’d picked out to try today. All of them, that is, save this one, which you’d impulsively grabbed and buried under the safer options.

Quickly, and without second-guessing yourself, you slip into the red silk dress. The soft fabric falls around your thighs and the neckline gathers just above the swell of your breasts. You twist, watching the way the dress hugs your curves. The silk feels cool against your skin and you can just make out the crisscross of thin laces showing off your back.

You take a breath, readying a quick joke, and push back the curtain. But anything you might have said dies on your tongue as Bob’s gaze falls on you. For a moment, neither of you moves as your boyfriend takes in the dress. You swear you can feel the heat from his gaze as his eyes drink in every bit of red silk and exposed skin.

You finally break the silence. “So, thoughts?”

You move to stand in front of one of the large mirrors spaced throughout the room. You pretend to fuss with the dress but you track Bob in the mirror as he comes to stand behind you.

“Where were you hiding this?” He asks, his voice dangerously low.

You shrug, feeling emboldened by the effect the dress is having on Bob. “Do you like it?”

Bob doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his hands come to rest on your hips. You feel the heat of them through the thin fabric. The breath catches in your throat as an ache pools in your stomach and sinks lower. Bob presses his body against yours and you bite your lip, hard.

His hands brush against your sides as they travel upwards. The silk drags with them. Your breath hitches and you lean back against Bob. He hums approvingly and you lightly shift your hips to relieve the ache building between your legs.

Still quiet, Bob’s hands come to rest cupping your breasts. Your eyelids flutter and your head drops back to rest against his shoulder as he gently squeezes. A whimper escapes your throat.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his breath tickling your ear. “Look at what you do to me.”

You just manage to crack open your eyes to meet Bob’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes are dark with want. The same is reflected in yours.

Through the haze, however, one thought is crystal clear.

“Bobby.” He groans at your whispered use of the nickname. “We’re in public.”

Technically, the shop attendant had left the two of you alone but there was the very real possibility that she would return any moment. And as adventurous as you were, you didn’t want to get caught going at it in a dress shop of all places. None of your friends would let you live it down.

Bob considers this as he casts a hasty glance around the room. You watch his eyes land on the curtained-off dressing room. An idea blossoms on Bob’s face and before you know it, he’s pulling you into the small space and tugging the curtain shut.

You giggle, watching him trip over the dresses you’d rejected. Bob shoots you a smirk before pining you against the wall, his lips finding yours. Tulle tickles your cheek but you ignore it. Instead, you throw your arms around Bob’s neck and deepen the kiss.

Bob’s calloused hands run over your thighs, setting your skin on fire. Your breath quickens as he hitches one leg, then the other, up and around his waist. Without thinking, you tighten your legs, drawing him closer to you. He groans into your lips and you smile.

You can feel him against your core, your clothes the only thing separating the two of you. You rock your hips just to feel something. Bob pushes his hands up under the dress to grab at your hips, making the fabric ride up and pool in your lap. His fingers dig into your skin and you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow. You hum in pleasure at the thought.

Bob pulls back from your lips and you’re about to complain when he dips his head and trails searing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. Your head knocks painfully back against the wall, but you don’t feel it through the haze of your pleasure. Everywhere Bob’s lips press, your skin burns and you want more. You want it so badly, you’re beginning to rethink your stance on public indecency when a voice breaks through your spinning thoughts.

“Are you doing alright in there miss?”

Bob’s head jerks up, his expression of abject horror mirroring your own.

“Miss?” The shop attendant’s voice is closer now.

Bob’s eyes widen, silently begging you to say something. You cough hastily, your thoughts tripping over one another.

“Everything’s fine.” You manage to get out.

Your voice is a little out of breath but you’re proud of how normal you sound overall. However, there are no footsteps that indicate the attendant leaving.

“Actually,” you say, getting an idea. “I think I may need a larger size of the…”

You trail off, fumbling with the tag of the nearest dress.

“The Sky Lark dress, size four.”

“I’ll be right back with that miss. Anything else?”

“No,” you say, praying the shop attendant will leave.

Only when you hear her receding footsteps do you dare disentangle yourself from Bob. He helps you stand on trembling legs and throws a nervous smile your way. You grin in return, relieved.

“That was some quick thinking,” he says and you note the flush in his cheeks.

You shrug, like making out in dressing rooms is a common thing for the two of you. “I guess it’s just my keen pilot instincts at work.”

Bob laughs in relief as the two of you make yourselves look presentable again. After a moment of silence, he opens his mouth.

“You’re getting the dress though.” There’s no room for argument.

So that was how, when you finally left the dress shop hours later, it was with two drastically different dresses and a boyfriend detailing everything the two of you would be doing once you got home and back into that red dress.

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madam-o · 1 month

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Re the weird divide in the Beetlejuice fandom, which I really don't get

Fandom is so strange. Just liking Beetlejuice himself as a character has invited all manner of unusual kinks and personal interests into the fandom, and hey, the more the merrier. Beetlefans and netherlings are an assembly of interesting weirdos, so like, you do you. And obviously, this means that you should try not to judge or make assumptions about others based on your own feelings about their interests. Riiiight?

So, Beetlebabes as a ship has been around since the beginning of the fandom, and it certainly seems likely not to be going anywhere with the sequel. Now, my own personal stance on the pairing lies straight in the middle. I think Lydia and Beej have a beautiful friendship in the animated series and musical. They're such a great comedic duo and there's something very pure and sweet about this girl and her bug-man. Their relationship in the musical IS colored by the fact that they're both using and tricking each other a lot of the time, but they seem to have a mutual respect on this point and don't let it ruin their friendship, well until the topic of moms comes up, anyway.

In the movie, it's more complicated. BJ is motivated primarily by his desire to be free and couldn't care less about Lydia's problems. He also gets just a tad creepy with Lydia, though he's not over the top about it. He claims that he thinks that she "really understands me", which is a frickin weird thing to say about a kid who you talked to for like five minutes. But the pervy implications are kept to a minimum so as not to drive the movie into darker territory. His motivations are still kept as primarily a green card thing, although the viewer is still pretty grossed out by the forced, child-bride marriage.

Re BJ, I don't see him as a human or someone who really follows human rules. He's a supernatural creature who has a vague, outsider's understanding of what being human means. Even interpreting him as a ghost and not a demon, he's too different from a human to remember what being one is like. In the musical and cartoon, he relates to Lydia from a child's pov, but tries to behave like an adult with the Maitlands. He's neither, though. He's an unliving, essentially immortal Thing. And while Lydia clearly has a lot of affection for "her monster", she's not exactly into this gross, stinky, creepy old guy. As for BJ, he's very attached to Lydia, perhaps unhealthily so, but he's not being a sexual predator with her.

However, as a Beetlefan, I've seen that it's pretty natural to pair the two up romantically. I certainly shipped them as a kid. And yeah, it's kind of a weird ship, but Beetlejuice as a concept is just weird, period. Weirdness and age gaps are hardly anything new or unique in any part of the internet. Teen fans ship characters their own age with much older characters all the time, and it's not usually frowned upon. But in the Beetlejuice fandom, there appears to be a lot of ship-shaming and accusations of p3d0ph1lia when it comes to this teen/ancient monster pairing, which I'm guessing is a lot more of an internet drama thing than about the actual pairing itself.

Now to be clear, I don't ship teen Lydia with anyone, but I also acknowledge that she's not gonna stay a kid and that things could change between them.

Personally I like the idea of Lydia and BJ being reunited after spending several years apart and things being super weird and tense based on their history. I've become primarily a fan of the relationship dynamic they have in the musical, so I see them as being distrustful of each other and competitive about getting one over the other. But they still gel in a unique way, and they can't help but enjoy their messed-up frenemy thing. And I think the awkwardness of the teen bride thing should be leaned into rather than forgotten or brushed away.

Lydia (to BJ): You really fucked me up, you know. I was just a sad kid who you manipulated. You fuckin creep.

BJ (to Lydia): Yeah but at least I didn't literally STAB YOU THROUGH THE HEART, so...point to me, there.

This type of prickly, antagonistic relationship is like catnip to me, honestly. So it's pretty disappointing and sad that all this fandom drama crap can and probably will affect my ability to share and enjoy beetlebabes content because "beetlebabes dni" appears on so many profiles and posts. It's the kinda thing that makes fandom culture such a double-edged freaking sword. Why can't people ever just let people enjoy the thing they like and try to be respectful of each other, ya know?

#beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlebabes #lydia deetz #beetlejuice x lydia #rules of the road #dont tag your hate and dont yuck on other people's yum #and dont accuse ppl of sh1t just because you feel like their interests are 'deviant'

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egophiliac · 10 months

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Hello! Sorry to bother but do you have any digital art tips? I’m quite new to it and any tips, tricks or advice would be helpful! Your coloring style is very beautiful and I love it a lot!

thank you! 💚💚💚 sorry this is a bit late, hopefully there's still something helpful in it!

(also, it got pretty long, sorry!)

I think the biggest thing is to just take things slow -- digital art feels different than drawing traditionally, and it's SUPER easy to get overwhelmed by the billions of cool features that the digital world offers. (I say, as someone who spends a lot of time downloading cool brushes and textures...and then never using them ever.) there is a ton of really cool stuff you can do digitally, but because there's so much, I think it's really important to take time to figure out what is and isn't working for you. spend some time doodling without any intent to do a finished piece, figure out how you like to hold (or not hold) your tablet, what keyboard shortcuts you end up using a lot (and therefore might want to map to your pen/tablet buttons for quicker use)...that kind of thing!

everyone's workflow and preferred program and style are different, so it's hard to give hard-and-fast general advice. but the things that I think of as the essentials for learning digital art programs, and what I think of as a good order to focus on learning them in (although YMMV, especially depending on what kind of art you're doing):

brush customization (e.g. flow, opacity, softness)

layers and layer masks

selections and transformations (e.g. scale, rotate, flip horizontal/vertical, skew) (skew is underrated and I will die on that hill)

blending modes (e.g. multiply, screen)

adjustments/adjustment layers (e.g. hue/saturation, curves)

and I think most stuff after that is gravy! often very good gravy though! but yeah, as overall advice I recommend just taking things one little bit at a time, spending some time just drawing and messing around with each feature and what you can do with it. whether or not you end up incorporating any of it into your workflow, it's always good to try things out and just see how they feel! :D

and just so there is at least a little more concrete helpfulness in here, here's a few more specific things that I think are super important to keep in mind!

use! your! tablet/pen buttons! I mentioned this earlier, but they are extremely useful for keyboard shortcuts that you use often! most programs will also let you create new shortcuts for other things -- personally, I use the magic wand tool to fill in big color blocks a lot, so I made shortcuts for 'expand selection' and 'fill' and then mapped them to my tablet buttons.

flop your work horizontally often! when you're working on something, you get used to the way it looks, so seeing it mirrored is a quick way to see it with fresh eyes! in my experience, it often feels like this:

(a common thing is to find that everything is sort of 'leaning' too much one way, which is where skew really comes in handy!) (seriously, I love skew, it is my savior)

if you're working with color, keep a hue/saturation adjustment layer (or a layer filled with black or white and set to Color) on top and toggle it on occasionally to check your values! a lot of people who know a lot more about color than me (and are better at putting it into words) have written about why values are so important, so all I'll say is that the rule of thumb is that your image should still be readable in greyscale:

there are some exceptions and grey areas (do ho ho), but it's a good general rule to keep in mind! (some programs also have a colorblind mode, so you can check to see how your work will look to someone with colorblindness!)

and finally, here's some digital art programs I recommend, if you're still looking for a good one!

free: krita, FireAlpaca

paid: ClipStudio, Procreate (iOS/iPad only)

#art #...sort of #horizontally flipped mal isn't my favorite drawing i've ever done of him #but it's up there #anyway i do personally use photoshop #but i absolutely do not recommend it when there are better and free-er art programs out there #it is the equivalent of texting with a giant 90s-block phone that has been jury-rigged to somehow install whatsapp #because i don't NEED a new phone i KNOW how to use this one it's FINE #(oh god i've become my dad)#someday i will have to actually switch to clipstudio and learn new keyboard shortcuts :(

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lucifersimp333 · 1 year

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MC Dyes Their Hair

Just silly little head canons since I colored my hair again recently.

Lucifer

~ Doesn't mind that you color your hair, why would he? Just please try not to get color on the sink.

~ Will help you if you ask, will properly grab a tinting brush and comb and get the spots you missed.

~ Will get a rag and wipe away the color on your skin around your hairline, ears, and neck.

~ Will get slightly annoyed if you stain the tub. Just clean it up, MC.

~ Will always compliment your new hair color and how great it looks on you.

~Don't ask if you can color his hair because his answer will always be NO.

Mammon

~ Will help if you ask him, but he'll make such a mess.

~Screw the tinting brush, he's using his bare hands to slap the color on for you.

~Will get so much color on your forehead and ears, but will have so much fun helping you.

~ Wants to match with you so he'll take some hair color and put some on the tips of his hair.

~ Will totally deny it though, The Great Mammon just wanted to try something new. Why would he want to match with a human? (He totally wanted to match he's lying.)

Asmo

~ He asked you if he can help with your hair. He loves getting close to you and love anything beauty related. It's a win win!

~ Will color your hair flawlessly. He puts cream around your hairline and ears so no color stains, uses the best color safe shampoo and conditioner, and will even blow-dry and style your hair for you after!

~ I hope you're photo ready, because he's going to take hundreds of photos with you and your new color. His favorite human just looks So beautiful, how can he not?!

~Will make sure EVERYONE in the HOL knows you colored your hair, and will NOT leave the room until they complement you at least once.

~ Will constantly gawk over your new hair and play with it.

Beel

~ Will help if you ask but will have no idea what he's doing.

~If you have scented hair color, he will give one a taste, don't be surprised if his lips are stained a crazy color.

~ Definently didnt use gloves, hands will be stained for days.

~ His strong fingers feel so good massaging your scalp when shampooing your hair. <3

~ If there's color in the sink, he'll clean it for you. He'll try cleaning the stains he main on your forehead too.

~ Absolutely loves your new color, you got him blushing over here!

Levi

~ He'll help you but you need to wait until he finishes the level he's on.

~Will 100% try to convince you color your hair like Ruri-Chan.

~ He realizes he's going to hair to get close to your face, he becomes a nervous wreck. Blushing, shaking, sweating, be patient with him he's trying.

~ You have to wash your own hair though, he almost died when he accidentally brushed his finger against your cheek, give him a minuet to reboot from that.

~ When you're on your knees bent over the bathtub with your booty in the air this man is SWEATING. He turns around and looks the other way so he doesn't faint right then and there.

~ LOVES your new hair color and has you try on some cosplay outfits. With the hair color you look just like the one character from the anime That One Time My Dog Bit Me And I Became A Sexy Goblin Dog Succubus And Took Over The World! You need to try this cosplay on, MC!

Satan

~ May huff a little when you ask to help, but he can't say no to you.

~ Does the best out of all the other brothers tbh. He's neat, precise, get ZERO hair color on you anywhere. He uses gloves, the brush, hair clips. You start to question if he's a professional or not.

~ Will chat your ear off about a book he recently finished while doing your hair.

~ His slender fingers dance around your scalp when washing your hair, practically putting you to sleep.

~ Will towel dry your hair and brush it for you.

~ Will compliment you like a gentleman, and then go read a book on the hair coloring process so he's better prepared for next time.

Belphie

~ Will 100000% bitch and moan when you ask him to help. When you tell him never mind and that you'll find someone else, he bitches some more saying he was only kidding. ( He wants to help, he's just smart ass we all know this.)

~ Kind of rough? Not enough to hurt you, but enough to raise an eyebrow at

~ Lowkey having the time of his life, but he wont show it.

~ Makes a little bit of a mess on your skin, he wont clean it though.

~ " accidentally" dropped a little dollop on your chest and conveniently that's the only mess he cleaned on your skin.

~ Wants to take a quick nap on your lap while the color is sitting on your hair. Wake him up when it's time to wash it.

~ Will compliment your new hair color with sleepy eyes. All this hard work made him tired, now to repay him you need to nap with him. ( Use your own pillow MC, please don't stain his)

#obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #obeymelucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan

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boremore · 8 months

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hey there, stargirl / eddie munson

New York is cold this time of year. December here is fucking crazy, and half the time Eddie still isn’t use to it. Even if he has lived here for the last six years of his life.

He’s twenty six, the cold shouldn’t bother him.

But his nose is pink and his cheeks sting and his bangs feel a mess. He’s got bags of groceries on each of his arms as he climbs the three flights of stairs. He lives above a bakery, there’s no damn elevator. Just stairs.

His teeth maybe clatter as he fishes for his key from the pocket of his thick jacket. He barely gets the door open before a bag slips out of his hold, a fresh baked loaf of bread thumps to the floor. He huffs. Kicks the door shut with the heel of his shoe with a little too much aggression and slides bags onto the counter from his arms. He then grabs at the runaway bread.

He doesn’t see you during all of this. You’re usually greeting him as you exit the hall. But you’re not there.

Eddie locks the door before his eyes glaze around the apartment. Your stuff is everywhere. Little things that have gathered over the few months you’ve been living with him. Hair ties. The ribbons you lace in your hair sometimes. Earrings. Makeup brushes. A lot of lip glosses. Silver bangles. It’s like his apartment has collected little things of you. He won’t ever say this out loud because he looks annoyed all the time, but he loves your scattered shit everywhere.

He doesn’t call out for you as he steps more into the home. He finds you rather quickly. You’re a small girl and your sitting on the floor like your five. You’re hidden before the couch, slumped over the coffee table. Your hands move quickly and your bottom lip is held captive by your teeth.

“Hi, Eds.” He flinches at your voice, surprised you’ve even noticed him without a glance. He’s not as quiet as he thinks.

His hand drags over the couch as he rounds it, peering down at you and your movements. He can’t quite see what you’re doing, like you’re keeping it hidden with hunched shoulders and a cramped up back. “What we doin’, star?”

He sees the sides of your cheeks lift. You’re smiling. At his nickname that he’s been saying since he’s met you two years ago. He’s your boyfriend, but not your boyfriend who calls you his stargirl. You don’t mind the no label. You’re happy and Eddie likes holding your hand. He doesn’t hold people’s hands.

“Did you drop something?” You say sweetly, completely ignoring his last question.

He hums and slouches into the couch behind you, his knee gently grazes your back and the tip of his boot slips past your bottom. “Runaway Bread. What are you doing?” You finally take notice of his question, but your hands don’t stop moving. He can hear pencils on paper and markers with felt tips drag color. “New designs for my class.. I think they might be okay.”

They’re probably more than okay, he thinks.

And finally, your hands stop. He notices the dark shading of led on both sides of your hands and fingertips. You have marker splotches along your skin too. He smiles. “You let me see ‘em?”

You finally look over at him, smiling soft. “I suppose I can.” Your nose wrinkles as he scoffs a laugh. You look so warm. He still seems cold.

You gently pass him the sketch papers, and with his free hand he takes yours and helps you climb onto the couch. You settle in next to him, your sock covered toes slip under his jean clad thigh. He smiles at the feel of your wiggling toes. He squeezes your closest ankle before he looks through the couple of designs. You love fashion school. Eddie loves that you love fashion school.

You notice his red bitten face as you try and rub off led from your skin, its smudges a bit more. “You cold?” You mumble, chin now resting on his shoulder. He shrugs a bit, your face moves up with the movement. “Stop talking, I’m trying to focus on the masterpieces in front of me.”

You roll your eyes fondly and slip off the couch. You wash your hands at the kitchen sink before grabbing a soft blanket from the basket by the end of the couch. You come back to him and he has a hand opened for you, his eyes still on the sketches. One in particular, one that’s based off his own style. “This one is my favorite,” he mumbles.

You smile, “sit up, please.” He does what he’s told without realizing what you’re doing. He’s looking at the details. Your work is fucking amazing.

You drape the blanket over his shoulders and gently tuck it into his front. His eyes gaze to yours at the sudden warmth. “Star.”

You beam. “Eddie.” You sit down next to him again, two fingers dragging over his pink nose and rosy cheek. “You’re cold, handsome.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile and gently places your papers back on the coffee table, that you’ve turned into a mess.

“C’mere,” he mumbles. You gasp as his hands snatch you up, slumping into his lap. Now the blanket covers you both.

“You warm now?” You hum, forehead resting on his own.

He scoffs, a soft peck to the corner of your mouth. “Obviously. But I was never cold to begin with.” You stare at him, amused. He pushes out his chin a little with a glint in his eye, teasing. You roll your eyes, “right.” You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth now, but it isn’t enough for him. He takes your lips against his, squeezing your sides till you pull away giggling.

“So, you dropped bread earlier? Poor bread.”

Eddie scoffs. “Star.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #stranger things #fall vibes #fall time #october #soph’s place

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swampstew · 1 year

Text

𝒮𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇

Being a Kid Pirate is not an easy career path. Less so if you're the Vice-Captain. Killer has it so rough, he really needs a self-care day. Maybe you can give him one?

Content Warning: hotboxing the Victoria Punk, marijuana implied drug use, drinking, otherwise SFW. Word Count: 1.8K

As always, minors do not interact with my content this is a boundary, thank yew.

You knew that the Massacre Soldier was one of the hardest working men you've ever met in your damn life. Day in and day out he handled the ship's affairs, cooked nutritional meals, occasionally bat Kid over the head, and balanced a close relationship with you.

He hardly had a moment to himself, always giving someone or something else attention. You decided that was enough. Killer deserved to have a full day off – no exceptions.

It took several days of secret planning between you and some of the crew; you were a little skeptical you fully got away with your private planning. Killer has always been an observant man. Nevertheless, he did not stop or interfere in any way as you executed your plot. Wire, Heat, Haikei, Noe, Emma and Quincy were tasked with managing the Captain while you kidnapped the masked man.

Sneaking into the kitchen, Killer was quietly boiling a pot of noodles and readying a carton of eggs to fry. You hunch next to the countertop trying to assess when you could grab him.

“You want your eggs runny or dry?”

“Wah?! When did you figure out I was here?”

“The whole time,” he hummed.

Grumbling, you stood up from your hiding spot and stretched your body. Standing behind him you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I like mine dry but make it to go. I need your help with something very important.”

“Very important huh?” Killer let out a dry chuckle. The sizzling of butter flared as he flipped your egg over. “Ok then Y/N. Grab the coffee mugs and croissants.”

Eating in the privacy of his room, the two of you enjoy each other’s company as you caught up, exchanged opinions on recent news and of recently risen bounties. At one point you had retreated to the bathroom for a minute and Killer heard the tub being run. He tilted his head in curiosity.

You came back out and laid out the day for him. Killer was being subjected to his first day off. He was being treated to a day of luxury, relaxation, and spoiling. Phase 1 – the spa treatment. Killer had to bite his cheek from how hard he was smiling behind his mask. He’d never been to a spa before.

The smell of the oils in the water wafted in Killer’s nostrils as he sank into the tub. While it was large enough to hold both of you, and you did soak with him for a time while you swapped different face masks over both your faces, you spent most of your time catering to his whims. Feeding him cheese, crackers and grapes from a charcuterie board, changing the music dial for him, working the various shampoo and conditioner products in his impressive mane.

While his hair was wrapped in treatments, you gently gave him a foot and hand massage. They were short and sweet and you finished each appendage with a quick nail polish removal. Rinsing his silky hair, you hand him a robe and direct him to his couch.

You bring out some nail polish colors and let him choose. He’s going with purple this time; he was adamant that both his fingernails and toenails be the same color. Always a man of preciseness.

Once he’s rocking a dry set of nails, his stomach begins to growl. The promise of a delicious lunch keeps him at bay as you quickly rush through brushing and oiling his hair just the way he liked. As he gets dressed, you rush to the mess hall to check that nothing went wrong.

Dive had set the table as instructed and Bubblegum was bustling through the kitchen door with lunch on a platter. Spaghetti aglio e olio. Nothing too complicated for the novice cook.

Killer was delighted as he sat down across from you, maskless. You both devoured your salads and noodles – spa days really worked up an appetite.

“Next activity is more public; did you want me to grab your mask?”

“Nah, the face masks made my skin feel all soft and dewy. Don’t want to make it mildewy underneath the helmet with the humidity.”

“That’s fair. Cause up next is Phase 2 – drumming circle.”

Killer’s eyebrows cocked, “Bit presumptuous to assume I’ll play for an audience.”

“It’s not FOR an audience. Just, the audience finds you sometimes cause you’re so good!”

He blushed at that. Drumming was his favorite pastime so he knew he was a decent player after years of practice and playing. You’re not wrong though. Anytime he found himself wandering to the open space inside the ship where he would let loose, some of the crew would seek him out just to hear him play. Kid would join him with his bass guitar if he was free. Normally it was Wire and Heat who would play alongside him as his audience grew.

“Ok sooo I’m drumming for fun?”

“Yep! Play whatever you want, it’s your time to just hang out and relax. I’m going to set up some other things for Phase 3 so you’ll be on your own but you can always call me on the snail if you need anything and I’ll get it for you.”

As you led him to the deepest level of the ship, a peculiar smell reached his nose. He knew this smell. Killer was surprised to see several lamps were set up with colored lenses over the frames. The lenses lit the room up in a dark blue color, as if he underwater with the ship itself.

Set up in the center was his drum set. Other instruments were lined along the wall. The room was littered with pillows and bean bag chairs. A table next to the opposite wall held a variety of snacks, water jugs, a massive bong and several pre-rolled joints, and folded blankets. There was a keg beside the table too.

After several hours of just vibing, Killer felt completely relaxed. He had a good buzz going, he was enjoying playing along Heat, Wire AND Kid who had filtered in towards the end. Killer had attracted an audience and everyone was in a haze, lounging around the spread and snacking while they smoked, drank and listened to music. Killer almost forgot about your promise of Phase 3.

You had been hard at work alongside Bubblegum in the kitchen. You were preparing a special main course just for you and Killer, with a very tasty dessert too. Pomp, UK and Hip set up the private dining table for two just outside the helms room; in the dinosaur’s mouth where the railing and teeth blocked the waves of the sea.

Everything in place, you take a quick detour to your shared bedroom and slip into something cuter. Casual and pretty.

You grab a handful of snacks as you listen to the boys continue to jam. Killer’s eyes met yours immediately and he graced you with a wink and wide smile. It made your heart skip a beat. You offer him a wave as you enjoy the assortment. A few more songs and Killer ends the jam session, not without complaint from Kid who was still very much into playing the guitar. You pushed one of the other crew members towards the drums and grabbed Killer before anyone could react.

Killer was shaking as he ran, suppressing giggles over the situation. Being literally ripped from Kid’s grasp and trying to outrun a possible tantrum. You practically threw Killer in the bedroom with a rushed plea for Killer to change for dinner. He complied and changed into a fresh pair of pants and a simple shirt. It was time for Phase 3 – wine and dine.

The two of you held hands as you ran from the bedroom towards to helms room. Killer was about to ask why you were not going to the mess hall when he caught sight of the twinkling lights sitting beyond the last door. His breath caught in his throat as he observed the private date you had set up.

A small candelabra was centered on the table, two wine glasses and covered dishes preserving the meal. Off to the side was a covered container, dessert he presumed. Killer recounted his jam session as you both ate the baked chicken alfredo penne. You even exchanged some of the internal gossip between crew members as you dug into the crème brûlée you had worked so hard to make.

Killer leaned back in his chair completely full. The sea was calm and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the moon shining brightly amongst the stars.

“Already ahead of you big guy,” you chirp.

A small duffel bag hidden inside the helms room contained blankets and throw pillows that you laid on the deck. Patting the spot next to you, you offer him a smile.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve any of this, but thank you Y/N,” Killer spoke softly as he nestled next to you. Propping himself up so he could recline comfortably and have you tucked into his side.

“What are you talking about?? Killer you’re the hardest working person I’ve ever met. You are On Top of Shit all the time. I’m shocked you’ve not cracked under the pressure to be honest,” you bit your lip in worry. “You need a chance to relax every now and then too. If not for your own wellbeing, then for me. I’m worried sick that you’ll drop dead any day from stress.”

Killer’s eyes shot up at that. He didn’t feel like he was overworked or overburdened. Sure, some days where tougher than others but he didn’t mind. Being on this crew and being the Vice-Captain were things he loved doing. It gave him a sense of purpose. Of belonging.

Shaking his head, “I won’t drop dead but I understand what you mean. I promise to try and take more time for myself.”

“Good!” you smile in triumph. “There’s no law that says you can’t have a nap after you turn 25 years old.”

“You know I’m 27 right?”

“DUH! You need it more than me, gramps.”

“GRAMPS?!”

“That’s why I gave you all the face masks, to reduce your worry lines before they become deep set wrinkles.”

Killer gives you a look of utter horror and worry. Did he really have worry lines??!

You crack a grin, “Ah I’m sorry I’m sorry, you don’t I was just messing around!”

“You play around too much Y/N!” Killer growled, poking your sides until you’re screaming and crying. Finally letting you catch your breath, he pulls you back into his chest.

As you watch the stars twinkle in the sky and listen to the lulling sounds of waves crashing against the hull, both your eyelids grow heavy.

“I just wanted to treat you a little today. Make sure you know you’re appreciated and loved,” you say quietly.

“You did amazing. Truly. You pulled off so much and I know the others played a heavy hand in all your plans to make it as perfect as it was. I love you, Y/N,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

Killer couldn’t remember another time he had slept that well under the stars.

#massacre soldier killer #killer x you #swampstew bedtime stories #one piece killer #killer x reader #op killer #killer one piece #killer x y/n #swampstew #swampstew stories #kid pirates #one piece reader insert #killer self care #reader insert #killer #op kid pirates

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alwayschoppedtaco · 2 years

Text

we will always have summer ll m.s.

pairing: mick schumcher x verstappen!reader, max verstappen x sister!reader

warnings: just childhood friends to lovers, lots of cute fluff

summary: summers in the lake house have always been your favorite.

word count: 2.4k

my masterlist

a/n: i got this idea from a bunch of tiktoks about michael and jos being friends and teamates (x)(x)(x)

Summer 2005

It all really happened before you could even remember. Alcohol fueled jokes between parents while the kids ran around outside the summer lake house the two families called home for a couple weeks a year.

You were the youngest of the five children that ran through the house, sticking close to your mother for the most part. Your older siblings running off with the Schumacher children, Max and Mick racing each other everywhere, while Victoria and Gina would play on the giant metal swing set that sat in the back yard.

You were fine with sitting out on the activities, not wanting to race your brother or fight your sister over the swings, but Mick, sweet Mick, didn’t want you to feel left out. Every time the group would head out the door, Mick would make his way to you first, inviting you to come out with them, to which you would smile bashfully and shake your head, burying your face into your mothers’ side.

“She’s just shy, go on and play sweetheart.” Sophie would say, brushing your hair out of your eyes and urging Mick to go play.

Instead of running around outside, you would sit at the table with the adults, juice box in hand, and color, listening to the parents talk for hours. You would help the mothers prepare dinner in the kitchen, or mess around on the grand piano that sat in the family room.

Sometimes Mick would take a break from running around and join you in the family room, pressing random keys on the piano with you, or sneaking a cookie before dinner with your help.

These actions certainly didn’t go unnoticed by the parents, both mothers having caught Mick trying to sneak cookies, but letting him because of how cute the pair of you were.

The parents secretly placed bets that summer, sure that you two would get together, it was just a matter of when.

Summer 2010

Once again, the Verstappen and Schumacher families are in the lake house together. The house smells like sunscreen and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, with all the windows thrown open to let the lake breeze filter through the house.

You are sat at the grand piano once again, this time actually knowing a few pieces and not just random keys pressed in no certain order. Everyone else is outside on the patio or splashing in the lake.

You like these times, just you in the house, calmly practicing piano and enjoying the summer. Before long you are joined by a damp Mick, coming in from the lake.

“Sorry, don’t mind me.” He apologizes when you stop playing. You just laugh and go back to practicing, scooting over on the piano bench to let him sit by you.

“Wow, you’ve gotten good.” He compliments once you are finished.

“Thank you.” You blush at the compliment, turning your face away from him. “I started lessons back home.”

“I came in to see if you wanted to come join us.” He says, standing up from the bench. “We are going to do a fire tonight!”

You make your way outside with him, sitting beside your mother around the fire, Mick taking a seat beside you.

The night is one you will always remember, roasting s’mores on the fire, your family surrounding you, telling funny stories and enjoying the summer night. Mick offering you the marshmallows that he toasts to a perfect brown, making fun of your brother when he gets too impatient and continues to burn his.

Summer 2015

This summer is different in the lake house. The obvious lack of Schumacher presence weighing heavily on the house. The entire atmosphere has changed. The family has added two new people, your new baby sister and stepmother staying with you.

Your days are still spent pretty similar to the years in the past. You practice your piano in the morning while Max runs around the lake and Victoria lays on the lounger outside tanning. After the practice you make your way out to read by your sister. Max and your dad make their way to the lake later in the day, splashing you as they jump in.

Dinner is not as lively as it usually is, the usual conversations flowing around the table, the seat next to you where Mick would usually sit remains empty for the rest of the summer.

Mexican Grand Prix 2021 Friday

The sun is warm against your skin as you walk the paddock, your bag slung over your shoulder and your air pods in your ears. You had decided to join your brother in Mexico for the Grand Prix, it happened to be over you fall break from university, and you hadn’t seen him in a while, you both being busy.

It was Sergio’s home race, so Max had a few more things to do along with his normal media activities to let Checo do some special media activities. That left you alone on the paddock on Friday after practice.

Walking out of the Red Bull hospitality, you bump into a familiar face. Looking up to find Micks smiling face looking back down at you.

You hadn’t seen him in person since that last year at the lake house, instead keeping up with each other over Instagram posts and race results. With everything that happened, it just became too much to keep in touch, you with university and him with racing.

A million memories flood into your mind as you look up at the youngest Schumacher. Memories of the lake house, and sitting in the family room together, sharing stories about school and racing.

You don’t know what to say to him, momentarily starstruck as you look into the clear blue eyes of your childhood friend.

“Y/N!” Mick is also clearly surprised to see you, although it doesn’t mean he isn’t happy to. He hasn’t seen you face to face in over five years, and seeing you again sparks something in him.

“Mick, hi, hey.” You stutter over what to say, the sound of his name rolling of your tongue causing Mick to blush a light shade of pink.

“What brings you to Mexico?” Mick cringes as he asks it, obviously you were here for the Grand Prix. “I mean, don’t you have university?”

“I’m on break.” You smile up at him. “Came to support Max.”

“Yeah, of course.” He doesn’t want the conversation to be over, he doesn’t want you to leave. “Want to walk with me?”

“Of course.” You answer, motioning for him to lead the way.

He leads you around to all of the garages, neither one of you really paying attention to where you are going, keeping up conversation over what had happened while you hadn’t seen each other.

Before the two of you know it, it is getting late, and everyone is leaving to get ready for qualifying the next day.

You bid Mick goodbye once he walks you back to the Red Bull garage, not wanting the walk or conversation to be over.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You sigh, looking between Mick and where Checo and Max are standing just inside the garage.

Mick wants to kiss you right then and there, watching you frown at saying goodbye for the night. He instead settles for a quick hug, knowing that your brother is watching the pair of you.

You offer Mick a quick kiss on the cheek, turning to head towards the Red Bull drivers so you can get a ride back to the hotel from your brother.

Max is busy glaring at the young Schumacher as Mick watches you walk away, a dorky smile plastered on his face.

“Max?” You snap him out of his glaring match with Mick. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my stuff.”

Mexican Grand Prix 2021 Sunday

Qualifying is average enough, Max starting from third. The race itself has you sitting on the edge of your seat.

You always got anxious when your brother was on the track, knowing how dangerous the sport was, but watching him and Lewis Hamilton battle for positions always made you anxiously chew on your lip.

Mick’s crash and subsequent DNF was also a disappointment to watch. His crash causing you to hold your breath as you waited to see him get out of the car, to know he was okay.

You wanted to go to the Haas garage to see him, but you decided to give him some space, and wait until your brother was safely back into the garage.

Once you see Max cross the finish line in first, you can finally let out a breath of relief, watching as Lewis crosses not to long after.

You are making your way out of the Red Bull hospitality before you can even congratulate Max, walking towards the Haas garage, hoping to find the young Schumacher.

Mick is standing just inside the garage, frustration evident on his face as he talks with who you assume is his race engineer. He spots you as you make your way into the garage, the orange baseball cap you have on sticking out in the sea of white, red, and blue.

A smile makes its way onto his face as he makes eye contact with you, his engineer seeing his change in expression and excusing himself.

You make your way toward the blonde driver, bright smile on your face as you offer him a hug. He accepts the hug, falling into your arms and sighing.

“I’m sorry about your DNF.” You comfort him. “I know it sucks.”

He just shakes his head, hugging you a little tighter. Everyone in the garage looks on with curious eyes, never really seeing Mick like this.

“Want to get out of here?” You ask, knowing that most of his post-race activities are already over with.

“Where do you have in mind?”

And with that you are leading him out of the paddock and towards the car you had driven there that morning.

The two of you end up further into the city, walking around with each other, never running out of things to talk about.

Conversation flows easily between you, Mick eventually taking ahold of your hand as the two of you walk the streets of Mexico City.

Its nearly 10 by the time you get back to the hotel, a smile plastered on both of your faces, neither on of you wanting the night to end.

“I have to tell you something.” Mick says, a nervous tone in his voice, as you make your way to the elevator.

“Go ahead.”

“I had the biggest crush on you as a kid.” He says, looking down at his feet. “That’s why I always would come and listen to you play piano. I thought that you were the prettiest girl in the whole world. I still do.”

You are left speechless at his confession. You are still processing his words when the elevator doors slide open on your floor. Neither one of you makes a move to get out.

“I always liked you too, Mick.” You finally snap out of your stunned silence. “Why do you think I helped you sneak so many cookies?”

He lets out a laugh at your words, taking a step closer to you in the small elevator.

“Can I kiss you.” He asks, brushing a fallen piece of your hair out of your eyes.

“Of course.”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, his soft lips are on yours. His hands placed on the side of your neck, as your own make their way up to cradle his cheek.

You kiss until you physically have to pull away to get a breath. His cheeks are flushed a bright red, and you’re sure yours are as well.

“Do you wanna come in?” You ask, nodding down the hall to where your room is. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“Sure.” Mick smiles at you. “As long as you let me take you out on a date.”

“Of course, Mick.” Your smile somehow gets even bigger as the words leave his mouth.

+little bonus ending

British Grand Prix 2022

The last eight months had been pure bliss for you and Mick, a honeymoon phase, one you kept just between yourselves. You never meant to keep your relationship a secret for as long as you have, but you never found the right time to tell everyone. Eventually you just decided to get it over with, wanting to share your very happy relationship with both of your families.

That’s how you found yourself walking hand in hand through the paddock with Mick, a blue Haas cap placed on your head. When you walk past the Red Bull garage Max does a double take looking up from where him and his engineer are going over race date.

His dropped jaw is what alerts Checo and everyone else in the garage of what is happening, everyone silently watching you and Mick walk past.

Max is tattling on you before you can even leave his sight, his phone in his hand as he texts your mother and sister about what he just saw, snapping a blurry picture to send as well.

By the time you make it to the Haas garage, your mother has passed along the photo Max took to Mick’s mom, both mothers over the moon that their kids had finally seen what they saw for the last two decades.

Corinna is up and greeting you both with a hug and many “I knew it” muttered.

“Oh, I just knew you two would get together!” She says as she pulls away from hugging you. “Your father owes me and your mom 50 bucks!”

“Wait you guys placed bets on when we would get together?” Mick’s eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at his mom who is gushing about how adorable you look together.

“Of course.” She says it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “We place those bets when you guys were still too young to even know what love is.”

By the end of the race weekend both of your mothers are 50 dollars richer, and Max has had a little too much fun giving Mick the “break her heart, I break your legs” speech.

All is good as you start the summer break with your boyfriend and your family, finally returning to the lake house where it all started with Mick.

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