#mime man <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

Hi Aquarius!

I had an idea I wanted to share with you: SAGU creator reader who likes to make little bits and bobs for their acolytes. For example, Childe vaguely mentions that his gloves are starting to wear out? The creator crochets or knits him a new pair-Can’t have his fingers getting chilled in the Snezneyan snow now can we?

(I just wanna give my skrunklis lil gifts and make them happy is all :3)

(Also, could I possibly be 💌anon?)

WHOFOHNJDFjhkbfsgddf Genuine keyboard slam i just kinda slammed my hands down in excitement ahem-

That would be a lovely idea anon, yes very much so indeed,

so im like hella into giving ppl useful but still aesthetic/pretty gifts, like i dont want the things i give ppl to be things that get donated/thrown away (when i genuinely care abt a person)

Also IF I DIDNT RUN U OFF FOR BEING SO LATE YES HELLO U CAN DEFINITELY BE 💌 ANON THATS SO CUTE I LOVE THAT EMOJI-

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cutenss

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each

Stars: Everybody from elements Pyro, Electro and Anemo! Plus Aether/Lumine/Dainsleif!

Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen + Up Audiences Advised, light cussing

& Trigger Warnings: None Known.

SO U KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSSSS

THIS IS MY JAMMMMM, MY PB&J BITCHEESSSS GET REKTT

☆

AHAHAHAHA- YOU’RE ALL GETTIN SPAMMED WITH JUST GIFT IDEAS I HAVE FOR WHAT TO GIVE THEM- YOU DO NOT HAVE CHOICE. YOU WILL BE GIVING GIFTS TO THE TEYVATIANS, THEY DESERVE GOOD THINGS. SUCK IT.

EDIT 9/19/23: WTF HELLO??!!! 1000+ NOTES??!?! THANK YOU SO MUCH?!!!!!! <3

PART 1 (you're here!) / PART 2

ELEMENTS HERE: Babygirls, Pyro, Electro, Anemo

☆

Babygirls:

Aether = The most beautiful, amazing, sleek, and functional pretty hairpin that is also a knife! So he can have that badass moment of unsheathing it from his hair and having a surprise weapon and showing off his long hair, acted all shy when you gave it to him, he doesn’t get gifts often, all the birthday letters were for you afterall, i feel like you deffo have walked in on him miming taking it out all badass for practice lol

Lumine = bless her, you handed her this gift and she just looked up at you and u swear didnt blink or look away for a full minute. Then she nearly crushed you to death squeezing you, god she’s muscular, as you made a sort of self-care kit, including her favorite scents you added to like blank soaps/face masks, and towels you initialed with “Lumi”, she deserves a break afterall (and she thinks you deserve it too, and subtly tries to get you to join like *“*oh this is so sweet, something for us to do together”)

Dainsleif = sad little man deserves happy little things, you make him a weighted blanket, in these blankets it’s usually like sand or something that is put into little like quilt squares so it evenly distributes weight, but you used that water from the fountain that soothes Khaenri’ah people’s curse instead. He literally went speechless when you gave it to him. He has not had a single night of insomnia since. He would literally do anything for you, and literally stole you off to the side after a few nights of good sleep to tell you this lmao

Pyro Allogenes:

Diluc = Another bitch who just needs a break, you steal him off one evening and tell him you need a hilichurl camp wiped out, and there’s a cryo mage so you need him, bc thats the only way this workaholic is actually gonna drop everything and actually take care of himself, you have to deceive him, and then surprise him by showing him a hot spring you found. Teyvat has a lot more things to it now that it’s in real life, and that includes natural hot springs apparantly, and you’ve already prepped the place too, with his favorite non-alcoholic drinks, some indulgent foods like chocolate and fruits, and a soft robe. Man’s went wide eyed and nearly fell in LMAO, and then, looking away all pink, said he couldn’t accept this… unless you joined him.

Amber = a pair of comfy shoes, with baron bunny decorated all over them, like you sewed patches over them to personalize it, and the insoles are GODLY good, so she can run to Sumeru at this rate and her feet will feel like she went for a light jog! Some Mondstadt citizens, and knights tbh, are honestly a little afraid of Amber now bc her feet aching was sometimes the only thing stopping her from going 100% all the time lol

Bennett = a lucky charm, yes, yes, I know, basic, but it’s different coming from you! You’ve given him a bandana to wear as a neckerchief around his throat (it’s unprotected and he’s that unlucky?!) and it fits great, you’ve made it from Liyue materials, and imbued it with geo energy, so it actually makes a small shield/barrier around his head lmao, he’s practically thanking you every week and telling you how it helped him that week 💀

Klee = a treasure hunt map you made! every little stop/treasure gives her some candy or a snack, plus the next instructions, and she insists you go with her, and drags you along lol, and you planted them within range of the Mondstadt so she’s not too far off, and the final treasure (bc u planned it so she was supposed to start at a certain time/get to the end in a few hours) she finds at late sunset, and it’s a type of challenge that u were able to make, (bc apparently being the “highest god” means u get dev access, like the teapot functions but more OP). It makes a rainbow of glowing fish appear as targets to better Klee’s bomb throwing skills, and to entertain her, she gives the most dramatic gasp ever, and is just vibrating telling you “The fishes! They’re so pretty! ‘Bedo said that you give the greatest gifts, and he was so, so, so SO right!! Thank you very much!!!” :D in her cute little voice and then proceeds to speedrun you a hug and then starts throwing bombs lmao

Xiangling = HOO BOY- she has nearly every cooking utensil known to man, thanks to her being a young famous chef, and bc her family’s restaurant makes good money bc of it, so it was hard to think of something for her, but you eventually made her a handwritten and sewn together recipe book (look up “how to make zine”, its very easy actually, theres one with sewing the paper and a smaller one with just folding). It’s full of all of your favorites from Earth and what you think could substitute here, and how it should taste. Xiangling literally took your hands and spun you bc she hates luxury stuff, and really loves and appreciates homemade gifts, it’s the first anyone’s heard of your homeworld’s food so it makes her feel special <3 (she will be constantly harassing you with a spoonful of food to try and see if it’s close)

Hu Tao = You remembered one of Shakespeare’s plays and wrote a rough screenplay for Yunjin to adapt, then took Hu Tao with you to see it! She loves poetry and singing, so she loves to see Yunjin play usually, but she hadn’t had the time lately bc of funeral spirit work, (u also brought Zhongli so she could have fun embarrassing him lol), and she literally made a whole bit/joke about getting down on one knee to marry you, which was promptly interrupted by said embarrassed adepti, people even clapped lmao

Xinyan = You made her an aweinspiring outfit to wear onstage, modeled after classic rockstars from your world, she nearly teared up at the sight of it, and then nearly took ur ear out bc she was getting so loud and excited, u try to convince her otherwise, but Xinyan refuses to wear it outside of big occasions like Lantern Rite or performances with Yunjin (looks like this, I tried very hard ok, check it: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/76631631152377154/)

Yanfei = Once again, a written book, or at least 20 rap songs for her to look through. This sounds weird, but she eventually hopes to see a future where people are just better at obeying laws and considers then she’d be out of a job. So, after seeing some of Xinyan’s performances, she decided her back up career would be a rapper. She will literally stop you every time she sees you and lowkey force you to hear her latest rap she’s made, partially inspired from the Earth ones you gave her a lot of the time! She literally talked your ear off for hours, and didnt realize that she linked arms with you at one point and made you both walk at least 3 miles around the port lol, very embarrassed but grateful for the gift, another person who really adores homemade stuff

Thoma = you sewed him a cute plushie of Taromaru, along with a little plushie tea cup set. He literally covered his mouth in shock, and turned away, were those tears?? Very carefully took his gift and nearly bent in half bowing and thanking you for the gift, and was cutely touchy all day, linking arms, guiding you by gently nudging your back in crowds, etc. You once woke him up out a day nap on accident trying to find him, and he walked out half-asleep clutching the plushie Taromaru and nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sight of you lol, all like “HIGH EMPEROR?! OH MY- Oh my gods- Uh- sorry, so sorry about that!” and then proceeds to immediately hide Taro behind his back all red in the face lmao, refuses to acknowledge it, will get even redder if you keep pressing him about it lol

Yoimiya = so Yoimiya canonically really loves to go out into nature and explore, and go for that sunset hike type of person! so you, once again assume all these thru tutorial or teyvat craftsmen help, made her a hammock! She’s apparently really bad about falling asleep outside, and since hammocks can be really lightweight and good for temperate weather (ive tried it, sleepin in a hammock for camping its kinda nice, as long as you dont fall out/toss and turn a lot in ur sleep), and you even added some extra ropes on the sides so she can tie it down and not upend herself while she’s sleeping (keeps the hammock from tilting). She literally squealed and dragged u all over Inazuma trying it out with you, and because she chats with her neighbors/community a lot, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU GOT HER A HAMMOCK, YOU PAINTED IT AND EVERYTHING, DID YOU KNOW YOIMIYA IS ONE OF THE ALLOGENES THAT GOT BLESS WITH A PERSONAL GIFT FROM THE ALL-GOD??!! - everyone in Inazuma near her house, including yoimiya

Dehya = so Dehya likes to upkeep personal hygiene as much as she can between her mercenary job roughness and the general battery of the desert. She also is known to stop by the market place to pick up makeup and other personal hygiene products! So you figured if she’s collected so many of those over time, she might just have a practical bag to carry them in, and you offer her a multi-pocket cloth bag (like for taking makeup when you travel bags) and also attach a mirror inside! She literally covered her face with her hands and Dunyazard lightly teased her for weeekkssss lmao, and the other guys in her mercenary group like “wowww, someone managed to tame the Flame Mane?” which just makes her more shy bc the God of ALL decided to HANDMAKE her a gift, and not just a frilly thing, an ACTUAL USEFUL PRETTY GIFT- she accidentally set her claymore alight when you finished explaining what it was and handed to her (it’s fireproof too)

Electro Allogenes:

Lisa = a decorated tea set! Specifically, you painted it her favorite color, with some of her favorite book quotes across the saucers and her favorite flowers across the teapot. She gave you the prettiest smile, and just “Oh cutie! For little old me? You’re a bit above a librarian like me, but I’ll still accept this with all the grace of a lady courted, haha!” insists on “trying them out” with you all the time, especially when you get too busy from the other allogenes <3

Fischl (they/them Fischl supremacy) = You made a book cover (like how some books will have the paper sleeve and the actual hardcover is just colored? like that) of Prinzessin der Verteilung, but looking a lot more like them rather then the old protagonist! They collectively lost their mind over it for literal weeks, and did the same for you for your most relatable protagonist! :D They insist you two start a fantasy book club now- NO they don’t care if you’re the All Fürst! That makes you all the more qualified for joining the elite literature society they’re starting!

Razor = a bunch of hair ties! You’ve made scrunchies, bows, clips, etc. for him to try and decorate his hair with, all of things he likes, like little wolf puppies, or Andrius’ but cuteified, little symbols of all his friends like little bomb design hairclips for Klee, a red four leaf clover for Benny, a purple rose for Lisa, a golden star for the traveler, and an eight pointed star, like the four-pointed one but with some flare in between its points. A prominent symbol apparently associated with you u found out :0, Razor is giving Barbara and Klee a run for their money bc of how cute he looks walking into town for Lisa’s lessons with all this cute little clips and hair ties and braids in his hair now <3

Keqing = you know. you know EXACTLY what to give her. Plushies of cute animals or creatures in or around Liyue, like the little snow foxes from Dragonspire, a tiny oceanid, the small geovishaps, etc. Keqing doesn’t care if you’re a god, remember! So you better swear to never tell a soul you made her these!! …she sleeps with them too.

Raiden Shogun (puppet) = what to give a cold hard b*tch? …a break. you talk to Ei and make her give the puppet some off days, and you also may or may not have bullied Ei for being a hermit, so she can explore and learn more about herself, instead of being forced into the image, literally, of her god. She tries to write you months in advance for making plans on her days off so you can join her!

Ei (god) = an open window bc she’s a hermit, i mean of course you bring her out on “updates” (she weirdly choked a little over tea when you presented this idea to her, “Ahem- cough- a date? Oh, as in getting more familiar with the world, yes of course,” you basically pull out a map and take her to other countries so she can see how the other gods are doing these days and finally do something new, she is overwhelmed but in a good way? And she's especially willing to do it if you keep calling them that, these “up-dates”

Yae Miko = you were honestly kind of intimidated by giving Yae Miko a handmade gift, it just seemed like she would like something of high quality, which your gifts weren’t always guaranteed to be. So instead, you didn’t. You made a cool little picnic, and in remembering her love of stories from her lore as a kid, you brought some of your world’s stories to show her, the classics, then any favorites of yours, and some you thought she might like, and read them all to her about once a week. You both talk about and discuss the book and let Yae nitpick it and try to give her more context for books like Shakespeare in hope to answer all her detailed questions about the stories. Yae was so fucking smug (and secretly so in love) that she wrote a story for Yae Publishing House about it… “Joining a Book Club with the Akitsu Mikami, a Romance Novel” 💀

Sara = damn another busy woman, you steal her away with the promise of “needing a body guard” and she immediately answers and drops everything (u made sure to choose a slow day, dw ur not a rude god) andddd you’ve got her! Sara literally just stood there in shock when you showed up at your meeting place with homecooked food, specifically new recipes from your world, and some recipes from Xiangling! She would not stop stuttering out thanks yous the entire time, and fumbled with her chopsticks constantly, and she ate a lot, and even shyly asked if she could take some of it with her for later, now anytime you mention food around her she unintentionally starts looking at you with puppy dog eyes, (baby crow eyes??) even if the rest of her posture is perfect/gives nothing away lol

Beidou = A hand woven wine cask holder! a bit more solid so you can paint some designs on it, and you painted the whole crew, with Kazuha in the crow’s nest and Beidou is the biggest figure on it (stylized, u arent trying to paint a renaissance artwork here) and you even put her name on it “Captain Beidou” :) You were rewarded with a tall muscular woman squeezing you with her muscular arms, Beidou only puts her best wine/sake bottle in it, and only uses it for special occasions! she may or may not have had to make sure and hide it in her Captain’s quarters so other pirates won’t steal it, since everybody on the seas heard about the All Mighty giving her a personalized gift, but dont worry! She’s a pirate captain, she’s used to defending her most prized treasures from others <3

Shinobu = a spa day for another overworking woman, you made her another mask and hair tie! They still match her of course, but they also subtly have that eight point star symbol you’ve had associated with yourself before (like the four point but with a little flare), and she literally went so red, she hid behind Itto for a second. who helped morally support her enough to try it on, and it’s definitely her most comfortable mask!

Cyno = you were a little… embarrassed to make this one, but Cyno mentioned wanting it so… You made a TCG card of yourself. With the world in your hands as you hover in the middle of a solar system, you paint yourself giving a small smile down at Teyvat’s world cupped in your hands. One of the symbols they associate with you, the eight pointed star, not equal points, but rather a four pointed star with embellishments, said symbol glows and dangles from a necklace you wear, above it all. You swear he stared at it for a solid minute without blinking, and when you initially offered it, Cyno held it like it was spun glass. He gently laid it on a table nearby, his eyes never leaving it as he got out his deck, and put the card of you, on the very top. The mahamatra then gently set it down, and then gently hugged you and picked you up off your feet a bit (when you said maybe you were too heavy for this, he just raised an eyebrow, and that’s when you remembered that trailer of him throwing a body-builder man, one-armed, over his shoulder. He easily lifted you and set you back down. 💀)

Dori = A herb garden. Strange, but Dori’s sister has a lot of medical issues, and the herbs can be hard to come by, even for Dori, you didn’t tell her that you read some parts of her life, but when she saw the planter box, she knew. You had ventured far and wide, all over Teyvat, and the stuff you had came with you! so you put one of every herb you had or went out and got some because you’ve been exploring Teyvat anyway. And for once… you made sure no one was around, Dori teared up. She carefully set the box full of lively plants aside, and you were in the middle of explaining how to take care of them when she just, wrapped her smaller frame around your lower legs. You squatted down to hug her back :’)

Anemo Allogenes:

Venti = another book you made (look up “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) that you filled with all the lyrics to all your favorite songs, and some classics! The bard was ecstatic because he technically had vague knowledge or recognition of most of Teyvat’s songs, but songs from another world didn’t count, hehe! …he may or may not have lightly guilt-tripped you into trying to sing or hum some of the tunes or melodies of the songs, “I need to hear the melody so I may play it for you for eternity, your highness!” That’s his gift back, is that now you can get a Venti medieval sounding cover version of any song you like lmao

Sucrose = you’ve made another book (bought in Teyvat or made, check out “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s easy so I think you could feasibly handmake it!) and filled it with as much information as you can on how things like electricity works, luckily you can still retrieve information from Earth thanks to Albedo managing to somehow get you a signal?? You don’t wanna know, but point is, she’s literally spiraling. It’s been days, Albedo had to be the one to drag her out of the lab and eat, while you are starting to doubt if your gift did more harm then help… as soon as you voice these thoughts to Sucrose she nearly shook your head off from shaking your shoulders so hard while she ranted about phones, telephone poles, paved roads and she actually offered books back in exchange, for leveling allogenes up, as long as you told her more about “Those ships that go underwater again?? Please, Your Highness???” cute puppy dog eyes but worse bc she’s got cute glasses on too, oh no-

Jean = another workaholic woman who just needs a break, god why are there so many of them?? Your first thought was a spa day, but you like to think you can do better than that. In fact, she’s had a pretty heavy load since she was a kid trying to uphold the Gunnhildr clan’s name/knighthood, so you decide that instead of spa day, you should have a fun day! So you decide to take her out some days for some fun around Mondstadt (and recruit Venti to help do things like boost the winds for extra fun), like shield surfing! (look up Breath of the Wild shield surfing video if you dont know what i mean), it's something a lot of young knights do, and it’s perfect for Mondstadt’s hilly landscape! Other things like flying kites, or even rerouting all her work for part of the Windblume festival so she could enjoy it more! THEN you kidnap her all over again, and Barbara, to go to Fontaine! What better way for her to have genuine fun than getting a break to see and have fun with her younger sister and go see a colorful circus/fair? Jean was literally just a constant stream of “thank you your majesty! my gracious god, thank you- this is too much-, All-Fürst I am forever indebted to you for this!” and ur just like :/ Jean that’s the whole point of a gift is that you aren’t indebted to somebody-

Xiao = a friendship bracelet :) since he likes jewelry, and he likes you, it's perfect! and u made it match his necklace. you’ve also put that same water from the fountain that soothes the Khaenri’ah’s curse, and put it in there, and it actually lessens his karma, so for the first time in about 2 centuries, Xiao the Yaksha, can actually sleep through the night. You weren’t looking, but when you turned away to show him your sketches or plans for how to craft it, he sort of, reached out. You felt his hand warm on your wrist before it retreated, you could already feel the callouses, as the small weight of a bracelet was wrapped around your hand, his return gift, so u guys could match 👉👈 Xiao breathes out what sounds like all those years of pain in one shaky, relieved, “…thank you” (he did all that while you were turned around in your bag too, he was too shy to look at you when he put it on lmao)

Kazuha = “So this is what you’ve been up to lately, hm?” Kazuha’s been kind and laidback enough that he’s one of the allogenes who quickly dropped the formal titles luckily. He’s been seeing you sneak around and present your gifts to the others… and he came prepared in case you came to give him something too! Before you can even get out, “Hey, Kazuha, do you have a minute? I’ve got something for y-” boom. He’s beat you to it, he’s saying the same damn thing, and pulling out his gift for you. It’s a lovely Inazuman outfit, decked out in your favorite color, it’s like if you were an Inazuman character yourself- You just accept it half in shock, while Kazuha gives this small smile, but u can see the smug little look in his eyes, that little shit he really prepared a countermove- HE EVEN WROTE YOU REALLY SWEET POETRY AND EMBROIDERED IT INTO SOME OF THE INSIDE HEM LINES LIKE THE COLLAR -//////- ← you rn as Kazu’s all fucking smug, you end up just being like “take ur crummy gift u little shit” and nearly throw it at him lol, sweet asshole that he is, catches it anyway, and you’ve made him new hair ties, some minimal clips that look like maple leaves (like felt fabric stuck onto the clip bit) and the new hairtie is more like a scrunchie with a pretty red knot on top, your own symbol of an eight-pointed star, like an extra four-pointed star not the star of david lmao, sits in the center of the traditional japanese knot. He wears it nearly all the time, and mentions making you one to match (>:/ sweet considerate little shit he is)

Sayu = you’ve made her a quilt! stitched together from all sorts of cute fabrics, so it still matches her color scheme, she wraps up in it now before going into that balled up tanuki form lol, she insists you break it in with her and take a nap with her constantly lmao, and you give in even if you dont always sleep because of her tiny half-asleep smile (sayu knows the grip she has on you lol💔)

Heizou = a mystery novel a friendship necklace! you knew him and his friend had once had something similar, (they were more like matching river rocks or pebbles not jewelry you think) so you desperately hoped it wouldn’t be too offensive. The little shit who saw it coming #2, whereas Kazuha suspected you might offer him something, he didn’t have quite the same intution that Heizou did, so the detective knew you were going to give him something >:/ little snitch- he was so smug and teasing about it right up until he actually saw the necklace, it draped lower so it didnt look weird with his choker, and it was a pretty crystal you’d gotten from a riverbed (you didnt tell Heizou bc of the similarity w/his old friend, but he knew anyway) and he immediately looked the most serious you’ve ever seen him. His grin was less of a smirk and more of a smile when he processed what you gave him, and he wears it all the time :) Calls it his "God blessed good luck charm"

Scara/Wanderer = It was very hard, and you had to learn how from a blacksmith, but you finally got it! You made a small addon that latches onto the outside frame of his Vision, so instead of the sort of teardrop shape it has, you’ve made a heart shape. Since he sees the vision as his heart, you thought it’d be cute to actually see it that way! He was all like “I don’t wear jewelry, I already have some metal holding my Vision, are you trying to embarrass me?” You: “okay, well you don’t have to keep it, I’ll take it back-” Scara: “No? Shut up it’s mine now.” He went pink the first time he put it on, and he only wears it when it’s just you two, or you both and Nahida (bless her, she only lightly teased him, just enough to have him yell a little, not enough to discourage him)

Faruzan = a compass that points towards ruins/magical places, so she can explore all the ruins the desert has to give, and also, more importantly, guides her out, you deffo relied on a blacksmith for this one, and got Nahida to help you add the magic to it. She just got this, soft and bittersweet? look on her face, and redirected the nostalgic look towards you, bowed gently and thanked you, … you offered her a hug. Faruzan accepted, and you could feel the way she exhaled, relieved.

☆

(Throws this garbage at you really late and runs away to my bed)

Hope u liked literally any of that! ;-;

Also im not done as you can see! Im doing all the elements bc i love these skrunklies-

☆

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒️

♡my beloved♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

#another mammoth of a post that wouldve just been ONE LMAO #but i saved u from that chaos bc i rlly wanted to post and i was getting impatient #😗✌️#look out for part2!#genshin sagau #sagau #my asks #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #✨️forgot all my tags again✨️#genshin platonic #genshin women x reader

2K notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 2 months

Note

Heya! I'm the one who sent an ask for the MURDER CLOWN GANG if there an ass or thighs type of man (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) (since I accidentally deleted my account by mistake ahaha)

Anyways, I'm back with another question for the MURDER CLOWN GANG !!

Question: was wondering how they'll react to another new outfit of lil ol' mimey darling, but with a twist ! Chest window ✨✨

Here's also a drawing just for reference ! :3

"....." <- Still no comment - sweating profusely. Offers Mimey a coat they took from one of their victims in case they get cold

"Ah, we match! I suppose my cut is more heart shaped, but nevertheless adorable as always, sweetheart~"

"Ohhh, I hope Mimey doesn't mind my tears getting all over their bare skin. They're so cute sometimes it's hard not to cry around them...."

"Whoa! Warn someone before you walk around like that.... Come on, Mimey - I had shit to do today.. how am I supposed to focus on anything else now?!"

"Hot...but your chest looks a lil cold, Mimey... Lemme use my hands to warm you up~"

"So much skin..Cute...Maybe one lick would be fine?... [In their head] Don'tbitethemcantbitethem..."

(Super cute! I love your design for Mime Darling, sorry to hear about your old account, but I'm glad you're back!)

#Murder clown gang #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere clown #yandere harem #Fanart

336 notes · View notes

partycatty · 4 months

Note

i need more dark star johnny IF U CAN 🙏🙏

or! therapy <3

dark star!johnny cage > nobody else

expanding on this post, specifically when i mention how unfair he is regarding attention from others

warnings: again, abusive relationship. johnny being annoying. smut w degradation and sadism (not explicitly consented to)

notes: guys i'm starting to think we can't fix him...

masterlist <3

part 1*/ part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•dark star!johnny cage, as previously mentioned, loves having you hang off of his arm like a pretty handbag. you're his accessory on the red carpet and he prefers to keep it that way. he'll strut and pose while you stand behind him and look pretty.

•you guys are getting ready for the red carpet event that leads into a cast interview for ninja mime 3.

•"i can't have you looking too good, sugar. you'll take all the attention." he says as you twirl around in your fancy dress, one that's sure to match his outfit. when you guys are in public, you need to match. it's like his only requirement. it's not a hard task either, since this man's wardrobe is DIVERSE. he's got that stupid coat in all colors

•god that coat is so stupid and dumb and oversized he's such a cornball but GOD DO YOU LOVE FUCKING HIM WHILE HE KEEPS IT ON LMFAO SORRY ANYWAY

•johnny's hand rests confidently on the small of your back, though he's doing it to guide you rather than comfort you. he discreetly uses it to move you along, but stops in his tracks at a young girl holding an MTV labeled microphone. she looks to be about nineteen, maybe twenty. she smiles, batting her lashes at your boyfriend and pays minimal attention to you.

•i should say, you have your chunk of fame, but it's from being johnny's girlfriend. only his real fans know your name. it's always been "johnny and his latest fling," "cage's match," "johnny and that one girl." this was fine with you. your boyfriend would prefer it that way.

•back to the girl, though. she stands, a little nervously on the carpet waiting to catch actors, and ended up scoring the lead star. she introduces herself and opens by saying she won an MTV raffle to interview celebrities on the red carpet. she's awkward, but her smile is bright and her body is defined under her little dress.

•johnny makes an obvious effort at showing his interest in her, lowering his sunglasses down his nose and drinking in her view top to bottom and back again. you can't argue back. you won't argue back. not in public. smiling a sweet smile, your fingernails dig into your palms.

•"aren't you the cutest little thing?" johnny says, grabbing her face and leaning in close. "could just eat you up." and the girl almost collapses at his advance, knees buckling as she anxiously reads through the bland interview questions. johnny smirks that classic smirk and answers in his typical fashion, referring to himself as "sexy face" and "the boom" as he rambles on and on about how much work it takes to be as perfect as he is.

•as he's enamored with this complete stranger, you feel a hand on your bare shoulder. you spin around and see one of johnny's co-stars! he greets you with a grin and says you look great, putting a hand on your arm to show his sincerity. it feels warm, it feels genuine. for a moment, it feels better than the love that johnny gives you, if you could even call it that.

•the thoughts are abruptly ejected from your mind when johnny reaches across from you and grabs a fistful of the co-star's dress shirt, holding him in place. honestly, this man probably looks like a peacock rn, showing off his feathers by standing tall and wearing that dumb blue coat. sillies aside, the co-star immediately tenses up and puts his arms up in a surrender pose. johnny pauses and looks around, people are horrified at the sight and what could've come of it. his eyes lead to you, and he groans to himself, releasing the other man and grabbing your wrist, not hard enough to raise eyebrows but enough to tell you he was fuming. his giant sunglasses conceal his furrowed brows and glaring eyes. if there's one thing he'd save, it'd be his reputation. the last thing he wants is an assault charge on a co-star, so who better to take it out on than his girlfriend?

•johnny pulls you away from the cameras and ogling eyes, slamming the door to the women's bathroom and locking it. almost immediately, he's towering over you, holding you by your shoulder against the door and pointing in your face with the other.

•"you're a fucking whore," he says with a nasty tone. "you enjoy getting men's attention, don't you? you just love pissing me off." he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks but it's nowhere near a cute gesture. "who do you belong to?"

•"you—" you muffle out, afraid to look at him when he gets like this. the sunglasses make it easier. that is, until he tucks them into the collar of his shirt to get a better look at you. his eyes are animalistic, wildly infuriated that you even bothered to give another man a smithereen of attention. "i belong to—"

•SMACK. johnny backhands you, the ring sending a nasty red streak across your face. you whimper, legs weakening. it's just a damn shame you're a masochist, huh?

•"speak up," he commands, now caressing that part of your face. "i'm only asking one more time. who do you belong to?"

•like some kind of sick and twisted game, johnny's hand lifts one of your legs, holding it up by your thigh. before you'd get the chance to use your voice properly, his hand expertly lifts up your skirt enough to swipe two fingers across your shamefully wet panties. you yelp out and grab hold of his sleeves to stabilize yourself. he chuckles breathily, momentarily forgetting to be angry.

•he watches your face contort as he applies pressure with two rough fingers on your pulsating clit. it's like he's trying to make responding difficult. you put a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises of protest, but johnny removes your hand and pins it above your head. he uses his legs to divide yours, the closeness now intoxicating with his expensive cologne. you can feel his hot, hard cock on your thigh, but we'll get to that later.

•"not... not here–" you try to protest, but end up involuntarily moving your hips to relieve the pressure he's putting on your clit. johnny, still mad but now also amused, leans into your ear.

•"you wanna be a whore? i'm gonna make you one, whether you like it or not."

•johnny removes his hand from your panties and admires the shine on the pads of his fingers. he chuckles and forces them into your mouth, which you lick reluctantly, looking downward.

•"eyes on the prize," he purrs, making you look up at him through your lashes.

•"i'm sorry," you mumble out, a trail of saliva from his fingers dribbling down your lips when he pulls them away. "i belong to you, sir."

•"fuckin' prove it then," he replies in a deep grumble, one his other hand to push you to your knees by your neck and the other fumbling with his stupidly large belt. his cock springs free, and you swear that thing is never not hard. homeboy's probably gettin ED at 39.

•both good and bad johnny strike me as a 7.5 incher, cut with a pink tip and a slight curve. and yes, he waxes. of course he waxes, have you looked at the fucker?

•should also mention, when it comes to sex, he is entirely focused on himself. very rarely will he eat you out or rub your clit as he fucks you, unless he's trying to prove a point that he can treat you better than any other man. tragically, he's treating this instance as a need for a punishment, where you need to serve him.

•he holds your pretty hair together like a ponytail and pushes you forward, pressing his flushed tip against your pillowy lips. he doesn't even need to say "open," you do so willingly and hold your tongue out the way he likes.

•"you gonna take me like the slut you are?" johnny asks with a little groan as his tip smacks against your tongue. all you can do is nod before he thrusts, his shaft being caressed by the fleshy insides of your mouth. you curse yourself mentally for not fixing that gag reflex he hates so much as you do indeed gag on his dick while it hits the back of your throat. you silently wish he got into the habit of easing himself in rather than shoving full force.

•even though dark star!johnny is more dominant, he still whimpers, even if he hates to admit it. when the tip kisses the back of your throat, he lurches forward a tad, letting out a sweet whimper before composing himself again.

•also i'm so glad the mk fandom just all agrees he whimpers isn't that so funny

•"you gonna start sucking, or am i fucking that pretty face myself?" he asks through gritted teeth, thrusting a little deeper to warn you. you gag again and try your hardest to shake your head.

•"good girl, for once," johnny mumbles. "sit still."

•johnny removes his throbbing cock from your throat, only for a moment. still holding your hair back, he gently thrusts his tip repeatedly against your lips, shuddering when he feels the groove of the head pop in and out as it catches on your lips. his salty precum coats your tongue, which you kitten lick up straight from the slit. his lips part to let sweet moans drip out, eyeing you down and pleased with his actions.

•he pulls out fully for a moment, fumbling in his front pocket to grab his phone and hitting record with the camera aimed down at you. he smiles wickedly, biting his lower lip.

•"you better suck me off nice and good, doll, or the whole world is gonna see what a little slut you are," he growls, reaching down to grab your chin and angle you upward. you make eye contact with the camera and open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out. johnny places a thumb on your tongue and presses down, admiring the view. his hand moves back down to his cock, stroking it a couple times before smacking it on your cheek.

•"what if someone hears us?" you whisper out, eyelids fluttering. johnny scoffs and rubs himself against your warm tongue again.

•"then they'll know i own you," he replies with a smile. "open." and so you open your mouth even more, and johnny thrusts himself into you again, this time at a less than sweet pace.

•since it's not the first time, you're sure to look up at the camera as he uses your mouth relentlessly. johnny's hand pushes down hard on the back of your head, forcing you to take his full dick down your throat for a couple of seconds. you gag again despite your best attempts to hold your breath, and his head leans back as he lets out a long, breathy moan.

•"you're fuckin' killin' me here," he moans out, head still thrown back. "ohh, you know i hate doin' this to you, but you gotta know not to toy with me. gotta learn your lesson, yeah? yeah?"

•as he asks you, he places a crisp, firm smack on your cheek again with his dick still inside, making you yelp again. the vibration of your voice rattles his shaft and it makes him twitch, his thighs buckling inward. you have to hold onto his hips so you don't topple over.

•after some time of ruthlessly throatfucking you, you feel his thigh muscles tense up and his thrusts grow increasingly more staggered. his cock doesn't reach the back of your throat as rhythmically as it did and he was starting to lean over you, pushing his hands on the sides of your neck to keep him upright. his delicious moans and groans start turning into breathy whimpers as he desperately chases his release. you feel yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of breathing, only able to get gasps of air in between his cock stuffing your mouth. you look straight ahead for a moment and stifle a laugh at a ring of your lipstick painting the base of his dick.

•pocketing his phone momentarily, johnny uses a hand to pull the bottom of his shirt up to his teeth, biting down on it and revealing his gorgeous, glowing torso. his eyes clench shut as he leans forward again with the bundle of cloth in his mouth.

•"— ngh — 'm not having you ruin th' shirt, was expensive — oh, fuck —"

•all you can do is let out pathetic gurgling noises and gasps as you're used like a fleshlight. johnny starts to struggle holding the phone upright, so he hands it to you with shaking hands.

•"hah... you record," he commands breathily, shoving the phone into your palm. at this point too cock-drunk to protest, you flip the camera and angle it toward yourself like a high-angle selfie. you bat your damp lashes as prettily as you possibly can given the circumstances. johnny wipes your dripping mascara with his thumb.

•on a home stretch, johnny picks up the now brutal pace and you try hard to not scrape your teeth along his shaft but it gets increasingly difficult to angle your mouth properly. he bites down hard on the shirt, face scrunching up as he reaches his orgasm.

•leaning over your body, johnny lazily thrusts into your mouth and you feel his hot, sticky semen coat the walls of your throat. he lets out a little gasp at each pulse of his cock, and you take his moment of vulnerability to suck him dry, feeling him throb hungrily. when he's fully emptied, you remove yourself and swallow, confirming the action by opening your mouth and showing the camera. johnny's tip leaks even after pulling out, twitching upward as he rides the final waves of his high.

•johnny lets out a long sigh, running a clean hand through his hair and fixing what strands were stuck to his forehead. his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is agape as he catches his breath. when he feels okay to speak again, he doesn't even look down at you.

•"if... i catch you like that again," he lazily threatens, head tilted back and eyes on the ceiling. "i won't be so nice. are we clear?"

•you swallow the last bit of saliva mixed with his fluid and nod before replying with a clear "yes, sir." johnny looks back down at you, pleased by your once beautifully done hair now ruined from his doing. your mascara ran down your cheeks and your lipstick was barely clinging onto your lips.

•"brought your makeup?" he asks, stuffing his half-hard dick back into his pants. you nod and pull out the makeup you needed to touch up. "good girl. get yourself fixed up, we've been gone a while."

•you lean forward in the bathroom mirror without a word of protest, wiping your face with your fingers and reapplying your makeup to not raise suspicion.

•johnny towers behind you, smoothing down your hair with two hands as he admires you in the reflection. his hands wander a bit, squeezing your breasts from behind as he presses his hips into your ass. he was always uncharacteristically touchy and sweet after intimacy, as if it was a shitty apology for his roughness. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck and then your cheek.

•"you know i love you, right?" he asks into the soft flesh of your cheek. "nobody else can have you like this. i'll kill anyone that tries. you're mine, sweet thing."

•he wraps his arms around your waist and rocks you gently as you touch up your makeup. he seems pleased that you got your lesson of the night, even though johnny's co-stars were now scouring the red carpet to relocate him. you two just hoped that your flushed cheeks and damp skin disappears before someone started knocking.

•"if you ever try to pull anything with another man, i'm posting that video," he whispers with a sickeningly sweet tone, kissing your cheek and parting from your body. "now come on. i have an interview."

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

281 notes · View notes

revetahwsstuff · 5 months

Text

I haven’t seen much Mortal Kombat for male readers so I’ll do it myself.

Johnny Cage

With a (bottom) Male S/O who is basically similar to Nicole Watterson but reversed. Pt1

He first met you from afar during grocery shopping, usually he would just get groceries online but he decided to go out in the world to just get a little bit of fresh air, Johnny was in the condiment aisle when he suddenly saw a male scolding 3 children who were whining for the need of candy.

“But dad, we rarely have anything as a reward, can’t we at least get a bag for just listening to you.” C/N one said, he was pouting; hoping it would change his dad’s mind

“Look kids, we would if the government would lower the prices.” M/N said in a debilitated tone, he looked tired as his 3 kids kept whining. Johnny saw this and tried to ignore what’s going, but he couldn’t help to look back to see you struggling. Johnny lip bites in a nervous way before he turned around and stepped up to the family.

———————————————————————

-Johnny didn’t know what he was doing at first, but the sight of M/N exhausted and worn out makes him want to just come over and help him with the kids.

-M/N saw this and he looked up confused at the blond haired man. “Is there something you need from me?” M/N questioned as he looked up at him. He was surprisingly shorter than cage but that didn’t matter right now. “I was just wondering if you needed a little help.” Johnny asked before his lips turn into a small grin as he looked down, he never seen such a small yet delicate male in front of him that looks to be about in their mid 20’s.

“Ah- no I’m fine.” M/N shrugged off, his eyes were trying to go wide to seem like he was fully awake but the dark circles under them we’re putting him off, he was about to push the cart away with him and the kids when suddenly-

“Ninja mime?” A child voice was heard, Johnny cage eyes widen and they quickly adverted to the three children of M/N, they were staring at him with expressions similar to baby owls with interest yet shock.

“Ninja Mime!” They all screamed out in excitement and they immediately ran up to the Hollywood actor. “Kids, don’t be disrespectful!” M/O yelled out at them with a glint of firmness in his eyes. Johnny cage saw the three little children’s hopping up to get his attention before averting his eyes up to the male he hadn’t even met yet. This is where the story begins..

#male reader #x male reader #bottom male reader #mxm #male reader insert #male!reader #male mc #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #johnny storm x male reader #johnny cage imagine #johnny cage

376 notes · View notes

alarainai · 8 months

Text

'The world that we were busy building.'

non-magic, neighbour au. wc: 2200

James hates the man who lives in Apartment 23.

Remus likes to remind him that it's impossible to hate someone he's never met – never even seen. But James doesn't need to see him to know that his soul burns with anger just knowing that someone exists in that apartment who seems to be on a mission to make his life utterly miserable.

He wonders if he's done anything to personally offend the faceless, nameless stranger or if the mystery man is just a sadist who plans to drive James mad by pettiness and passive-aggressive actions.

It all started with a cat.

James is allergic to cats.

So when he found a Calico sitting on his balcony – a balcony three stories high, mind you – he was at a little bit of a loss on how to react. It scratched at the glass door and meowed loudly as James just frowned at its existence.

At the time, he believed the apartment next to his own was empty, and he wasn't close to any other place for it to have jumped from.

Except from the balcony above, which was completely possible.

For a moment, he ignored it and went to his upstairs neighbour to see whether or not they had a Calico cat. The denial confused him, and he returned to his apartment, ready to call Remus to collect the thing.

He came back to both his balcony and front door wide open. The cat was gone.

A note was left in its place.

Bring my cat back next time, asshole. Apt. 23.

He had knocked on the door furiously then, yelled through the wood that he didn't even realise anyone lived there – added that whoever they were didn't need to break into his apartment and 'How the hell did you even do it? Can you lockpick?'

James didn't get an answer that day.

But the war had begun.

----

The cat – James now knows her name is Isobel – became a frequent member of James' household. He's had to purchase a large quantity of allergy pills and a large bag of cat food.

He hasn't gotten any thanks for it, naturally. But James isn't mad about this development. He's grown quite attached to the tiny demon who causes his daily sniffles.

In retaliation for half the custody of his neighbours' cat, James has taken to loudly – and terribly - singing in the rooms that share a wall with the mystery asshole.

James knows the annoyance is working when he gets several angry knocks. It only makes James sing louder.

The revenge for James' singing is unwanted deliveries to his door. A choir, cold callers, religious groups, and even a mime once.

James responded by leaving eggs right outside his neighbour's door. He heard violent swearing and various threats, but when he looked out his door to mock, only broken shells and yolk were left in the hallway.

It seems to be a back-and-forth between them without an end in sight. James simply refuses to back down, even when he comes home from work one day to find a litter tray on his balcony from his neighbour once again breaking into his apartment.

He's half tempted to call the landlord; he gets kitty litter instead.

For a while, James wonders if this is his life now. Doomed in an eternal battle with an unknown entity.

It's a surprise then when Isobel is absent for a few days. The bigger shock comes from the knock he gets at 3 in the afternoon on a Saturday. He's not expecting a guest – although he half anticipates it being another prank from his neighbour.

If it is a prank, it's not a very good one. The man at his door is the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

He's staring at him with wide, desperate grey eyes, and his skin is lightly flushed around his cheeks. Black curls frame sharp cheekbones, freckles are scattered across his skin. His lips are slightly parted – breathless like he's been running. He's shockingly gorgeous and too good to be at his door.

It's only then that James notices Isobel in this man's arms. Realisation dawns on him.

"You're number 23," he breathes in awe.

23 ignores him, "Isobel is sick," he says. "And my car... it's – I need to take her to the vet right now."

James has half a mind to tell him to fuck off after the hell he's put him through. Another part of him just wants to ask him for his number.

But his rational side takes in his words, and his gaze drifts down to look at Isobel again. She's quiet in 23's arms, eyes closed with shallow breath.

"Shit, okay. We can take my car."

He quickly turns, grabbing his keys and wallet before leading 23 back out of the war and towards the car park. Isobel doesn't kick up a fuss while they're driving, nor when James hastily pulls into the vets his neighbour has led him to.

He parks up while 23 runs ahead, cradling Isobel to his chest.

James' heart aches. He has grown awfully fond of her.

As he walks in, he sees 23 at the reception desk. He looks frantic.

"I just told you. She has insurance!"

"I'm sorry, sir. But it says the insurance was cancelled by a Mr. Orion Black."

James watches' as 23's face falls, and he looks between the receptionist and Isobel with a lost expression. And James knows this man is a bastard; honestly, he does! But that Calico has always been well-loved, and his neighbour looks incredibly broken.

"Please... she-"

"How much?" James interrupts.

Both the receptionist and 23 turn to look at him. The receptionist wordlessly passes him the card machine. He tries not to wince at the number and scratches at Isobel's ear before entering his card and paying in full.

"Thank you, sir," the receptionist says politely, pulling the card machine back, "Please take a seat. Mister Dearborn will call you through shortly."

James nods thanks and walks over to the fairly empty waiting area, knowing 23 isn't too far behind. The plastic green chairs aren't exactly comfortable, but James doesn't complain. Instead, he looks as 23 sits beside him and cradles Isobel.

He looks uncertain. Uncomfortable.

"Thank you," 23 says softly, "You didn't need to do that."

James grins, "Eh, what are neighbours for."

Not for paying that ridiculous amount on Pet Bills, that's for sure. But James makes enough money. Besides, he's been looking after that cat for months. Might as well contribute to some health bills, too.

With the wait, he has time to look at the man from apartment 23. He can't be much younger than James is, although the dark circles under his eyes and his slightly dry skin suggest he doesn't know the meaning of good sleep and proper hydration. James thinks he might look like someone out of a Tim Burton movie at the right angle.

He shouldn't be that infatuated with it.

"I thought you'd be older."

23 frowns at him, "What?"

"With your attitude and obviously appalling taste in music," James explains with a hand wave, "I was expecting you to be a middle-aged Scrooge kind of guy. You're a surprise..."

He pauses, waiting for a name.

23 rolls his eyes, "Regulus."

"Good to finally meet you, Regulus. I'm James."

"Hi," Regulus says dryly, "And I don't have appalling taste in music. You're just a terrible singer."

James gasps in mock indignation, "You wound me. I thought they were beautiful serenades to my beautiful rival neighbour."

"Must you sing every morning, though?"

"Yeah. I need to make sure you're sufficiently irritated."

Regulus laughs. It's a slight, restricted noise – like he's not used to laughing out loud. His skin turns a darker shade of pink, and James finds him grinning. It's actually quite annoying. How can his opinion turn so quickly just because he sees a boy with pretty eyes?

He wonders if that makes him shallow.

He decides he doesn't care.

It seems like Regulus is going to say something in response when Isobel's name is called. Regulus stands, facing James with a small frown, as though he wants to ask for more but doesn't know how to do it. James thinks that his neighbour may simply lack social etiquette.

"I'll wait here," James reassures him.

And then he's gone.

James can't help but feel worried in Regulus' absence. He knows it's tough to lose a pet, knows that they just become an extended member of the family. It's a scary position to be in – and not knowing just makes it so much worse.

It doesn't take long, however. Soon enough, Regulus is stepping out of the room again. Isobel is still asleep in his arms, but Regulus doesn't seem as scared as before.

James stands.

"Well?"

"Feline upper respiratory infection. Nothing too serious or dangerous," Regulus says with a slight smile. He shakes a small box, "These are just for broader symptoms."

"Alright," James lets out a sigh of relief, "We'll make sure she's medicated when it's needed, then."

Regulus blinks, "We?"

"Of course. We are her parents, after all. Or did you miss the part where she spends just as much time in my apartment as yours? Come alone, Regulus. And lady Isobel!"

James turns and heads back to the car with Regulus behind him. His neighbour shuffles into the passenger seat, arranging Isobel on his lap and making her comfortable before he puts his seatbelt on. James notices Regulus looking at him – like he's a puzzle he can't quite work out.

He's content to let him stare.

As the drive goes on, the silence seems to be getting to him.

"I've been horrible to you," Regulus murmurs, "You didn't have to help me."

James hums, "What can I say? I'm a sucker for a pretty boy in distress."

Regulus opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again, failing to give any sort of retort. Eventually, he gives up, and they head home to the sound of a slight purr from the Calico on Regulus' lap.

----

Weeks past. Pranks and despising each other is a thing of the past, thanks to Isobel.

Fever and general illness doesn't stop the cat from switching between apartments whenever she pleases. James keeps his balcony door open, the food bowl full, and the litter tray clean.

The only real change to the entire routine is the presence of Regulus in his life.

He doesn't break in anymore. He knocks and waits.

More often than not, he stays for tea.

And Regulus Black is a wonderful person. James curses himself for not hanging around just to meet him sooner.

He's a student, recently kicked out of his family home with just the clothes on his back and Isobel in his arms. The place he's staying belongs to his brother, who is having an extended holiday with his lover somewhere in Europe with no desire to return.

He's been stressed and struggling – and the feud that James thought was from hatred was actually Regulus' equivalent to human contact.

Regulus is lonely.

Regulus is funny.

Regulus might just be the man of his dreams. But maybe that's because they're raising a cat together. James can't presume how the other man feels about him.

During the second month of knowing Regulus, James makes an error.

He wakes up with a heavy weight on his chest, a dry mouth and a stuffy nose. Blinking his eyes open, he sees Isobel asleep on his chest. He realises, rather quite suddenly, that he had forgotten to take his allergy pills before going to bed.

The rest of the morning is unpleasant, feeding Isobel and himself while trying to ignore the symptoms setting in.

He's ran out of meds, his fault, of course. When his door opens and Regulus steps in, James is relieved to have company. Even if Regulus sees him with tissues to his face and watery eyes.

Regulus frowns at him. "Are you sick?"

"No," James says with a laugh, blowing his nose, "I'm just allergic to cats. I forgot to take my pills this morning."

His neighbour's face turns carefully blank.

"You're allergic to cats."

James blinks, "Didn't I mention?"

Regulus tries again, taking several steps forward, "You're allergic to cats, but you're still doing everything for Isobel?”

"Well, yeah? What do you – mmph!"

Suddenly, lips are pressed against his, and he has a warm body pressed against his own. It's not a pleasant first kiss by any means, especially with the way James simply cannot breathe due to a clogged nose, and his lips are definitely too dry to be nice.

But the enthusiasm and desperation from both of them nearly makes up for it.

Regulus pulls back and gives him a small disgusted expression, "I'll get you some allergy meds, you absolute moron."

James grins, wide and adoring, "You love me."

An eye roll, "I guess you're okay. For a shit neighbour."

Regulus leaves to get him some meds. James refills the cat bowl. Isobel purrs at his toes and looks pleased with herself.

He has a feeling they won't need to share custody of the Calico anymore.

#only warning is maybe pet illness?#but it's fine #this is fluff #they're just being so silly #jegulus #drabble #is it a drabble? eh it is now

399 notes · View notes

milflewis · 6 days

Note

Soulmate AU

When Sebastian first meets Nico Rosberg — and his hair more specifically — again after the crash, he nearly pisses his pants laughing.

“I see you have a type, eh?” He asks Lewis. He runs a hand through his own blond hair.

“Tell me,” he starts, leaning forward over Lewis’s left shoulder. Bono is saying something in the seat beside Lewis. Lewis’s face is relaxed and calm.

“Did you jerk off to Michael too? Blond, German, very fast. He’d fit in your collection.”

Lewis’s face doesn’t even flicker. When he asks a question about whatever Bono is saying, his voice is steady and quiet. They could be back in their regular driver briefings. Something in Sebastian’s chest swells up, pushing at his heart and lungs, mean and sour.

“Don’t worry,” he tells Lewis. “We all did. Can’t have you thinking you are special, hmm?”

There are stories — old ones — that one hears over the years.

Stories of those who don’t meet their soulmates properly in life, and so join them in death.

Sebastian used to love stories.

When he opens his eyes after going into the wall too fast and too hard, he is standing beside Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis is talking to Ted, the camera on. His eyes are shadowed and his shoulders are curved slightly inwards.

When he sees Sebastian next to him, he startles, mouth falling open. “I — You.”

“Lewis?” Ted is frowning, concerned. “Are you alright?” He has a hand up as if to tell the cameraman to get ready to stop rolling. Or to zoom in on Lewis’s face. Sebastian isn’t sure.

“Um.” Lewis blinks, swallowing. He glances at Ted and then back at Sebastian.

Never let it be said that Sebastian isn’t ever helpful.

“He can’t see me, I think,” Sebastian says, and then mimes a blowjob with his hand and mouth, tongue in cheek, in front of Ted, who doesn’t stop staring at Lewis.

“Right, yeah,” Lewis says, as shakey as Sebastian has ever heard him. “Um.”

“Funny story,” Sebastian says, furious. He wants his dad. He stays looking into Lewis’s tired shocked face. He thinks if he sees his mom, he will never be able to stop crying “Turns out we are soulmates.”

“Lewis, you okay? Do you need a minute?”

Lewis inhales. Sebastian can see him visibly remember there is a camera on him. When he smiles, it is a thin slight of a thing.

“Sorry, man, what was your question again?”

Lewis gets more curled in on himself as the year goes on, face thin. Quieter too. Him and Nico snap and snap at each other’s heels. Toto nearly has a stroke keeping them from biting.

Sebastian is self aware enough to know that he is not helping. That his commentary — one sided that it is as no one other than Lewis can hear him and Lewis rarely responds, not through words nor expressions — is only making things worse for him.

He can’t bring himself to care.

It drives the cold away a little. That short spark of satisfaction and victory when he pokes and pokes and pokes and Lewis keeps a straight face through it all.

Sometimes, if Lewis breaks, either in a flinch or an aborted eye roll, or god forbid, a laugh, then Sebastian can even make himself pretend that he is still alive.

“I have a question,” Sebastian declares. He is standing over by the window, looking out at the paddock.

Lewis ignores him.

Nico is saying something in response to James Allison. He looks tense. The entire room looks tense. Sebastian rolls his shoulders.

“Did you stop fucking Nico before I died, or do you only not like exhibitionism? I could leave if you want privacy.”

This makes Lewis look at him. It is a quick glance, cutting and sarcastic, eyebrows slightly raised. He somehow manages to look pissed and amused and embarrassed, all at the same time.

Sebastian smiles sunnily at him. It is often exhausting to be around Lewis, especially when he is like this. Lewis might be quiet, packed in tightly, but he spills over most of the time. No one can ever accuse him of being small.

“You are right, I guess,” Sebastian muses thoughtfully. “I would not leave you alone. I would be too bored.”

Nico wins. Nico retires. Lewis disappears home for the break. Sebastian follows his brother around for a few months, chattering at him, even though Fabian doesn’t ever respond. It’s not that different from before if he is being honest.

There is a Lewis light in his chest, always pulling. It’s not that bad of a sore, Sebastian reasons. Only a little achey.

Formula One has started back up again when Sebastian follows the tug back to Lewis.

Lewis doesn’t say anything at Sebastian’s sudden appearance in the garage. His shoulders relax slightly though when Sebastian makes a quick quip about Valtteri’s blond — Seriously, Lewis, Sebastian thinks, half fond — hair.

He looks less like a scrunched up tissue someone used to blow their nose with. Sebastian tells him this. He catches Lewis’s badly smothered eye roll in the sleek reflective black of Mercedes’ desks.

He even makes Lewis laugh, startled, when he asks him if he managed to get laid while Sebastian was gone.

“So,” Niki says, sitting down beside Lewis in his motorhome. Lewis hums, pulling out his earbuds. Sebastian is slumped on the floor, back against the opposite wall. They’re waiting to be called for the post practise debrief.

“So.”

The half grin, all teeth and eyes squishing up, that Lewis sends Niki reminds Sebastian of Formula Three. His fingers itch for a steering wheel.

“Are you going to introduce me to your soulmate anytime before I die?”

Lewis goes very still. Stupidly, damningly, his eyes dart to Sebastian before he looks back at Niki.

Niki raises his eyebrows. He, eerily, manages to look Sebastian directly in the eyes. Sebastian waves. Just in case.

Niki’s expression doesn’t change.

Sebastian’s exhale could be a laugh.

“Well?” Niki nudges. “I am not getting older, you know?”

“Jesus, Nik,” Lewis says, automatically, like it’s rote. “I’ve told you. Stop making those jokes.”

“You’re the one who calls me ‘old man’.”

“It’s a term of endearment!”

Niki stares at him down. For the first time in Sebastian’s life — and death — he watches as Lewis Hamilton gives in.

“I don’t need to introduce you. You already know him.”

“Knew him,” Sebastian corrects. Lewis ignores him.

Niki watches Lewis for a moment longer. Lewis, resolutely, refuses to look away.

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian informs him.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Niki says, and for the second time in not even five minutes, Sebastian wonders if Niki can see him. He doesn’t bother waving this time but it is a little freaky.

“I hate you,” Lewis tells him, sulkily.

“Yes,” Niki says, patting him on the shoulder. “I know.”

“How did you know?”

Sebastian isn’t sure if Lewis is asking how Niki knew that Lewis had a dead soulmate or how he knew that dead soulmate was Sebastian.

“Hmm, last year, you were weird. Weirder after Sebastian. Not how Nigel was, with Elio, or Michael, with Aryton.” Niki doesn’t take his eyes off of Lewis. His voice and face is softer than Sebastian has ever heard or seen. “Just. Weird. And still too, after Nico left.”

Lewis swallows thickly. “Right.”

“Some of me hoped.” Niki stops. He looks over at where Lewis looked earlier, when he is steadily refusing to look now. “When James died, I looked out for him.”

He shrugs. There is something hanging heavy in his face. “We knew each other too well in life, maybe. Or that was all the time we were given. More than most.”

“Yeah.”

Lewis meets Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian looks back at him.

“And,” Niki says. He reaches a hand behind them and raps on the wall. “These are a bit thin too. I heard you talking to someone, once or twice.”

“Fuck off,” Lewis laughs. He scrubs an open palm down his face.

Niki reaches over to pat his cheek firmly. “You are sleeping better, this is good. Keep it up.”

“Aye, cap’n,” Lewis says dryly.

Jenson: you cheatying slag

Jenson: i knoiw 4 a FACT that you dont know all the wdcs off by heart

Jenson: usinh seb as your own fuckinh wiki is wrong

Jenson: always knew you were a cheater aty your core. fernando warned me about you LOL

Jenson: also. tell seb hes a nerd

#ok so. major character death. but like. also not bc ghosts are a thing here #i’ll tag it anyway just in case #tw major character death #sewis #five head cannons ask game #little fics #anon tag #niamh.asks

106 notes · View notes

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 12

Part 1 Part 11

Steve’s starting to like Eddie the Freak Munson. It would be a problem if he thought they’d ever get out of here. He can almost hear Carol’s derision and Tommy’s violence should Eddie deign to speak to him in front of witnesses. They’d snicker into their milk cartons about torrid love affairs and queerness being communicable, as if there was no other reason for Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson to be seen together.

It would take minutes for Carol’s whispers to grow sharp, teeth bared into listening ears until Steve joins Eddie as person non grata to the Hawkins populace. Tommy would find Eddie opening his locker and slam his head into it, using fists and nails and slurs to make his opinion known.

Steve misses them.

But, he has Eddie now. Eddie, who says what he means. Who’s bandaged Steve up, pulled him off bathroom floors and grocery store aisles, and vine-filled alleyways. And he’s so goddamn distracting, Steve sometimes forgets how scared he is.

“Dungeons and dragons is like, for the creme de le creme, Harrington,” he says, pacing the length of his shoebox living room, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other throws his fucked-up dice up and down with surprising dexterity. “While you jocks are playing your sports ball, the rest of us are learning the ways of the blade.”

Steve laughs. “No, fucking way, man.”

Eddie spins, waggling his finger condescendingly in Steve’s face, towering over him where he’s seated on the Munson’s springy couch. “The blade is metaphorical, my liege, but the mettle we test and the bonds we strengthen are not!”

Steve leans back in his seat, slouching away from Eddie’s closeness. “You’re such a nerd.” He means it as a joke, but the way Eddie’s mouth twists makes regret curdle in his intestines. “So how does this work?” he asks, gesturing to the die now clutched in Eddie’s palm.

Eddie smiles, still leaning over him, dimples popping, before dropping to sit crisscross in front of Steve with alarming speed. He holds his hand out, throwing the die into Steve’s lap.

“Now, we’re talking Stevie,” Eddie says, flapping his hands, before shoving them beneath his butt and letting his bent knees flap instead. “It’s easy.”

Steve looks down at the die. It’s white and translucent, the red of the light from the windows turning it a soft pink. The edges feel almost sharp as he turns it over in his fingers, counting the sides. The numbers aren’t like normal dice, with the dots. They’re just numbers, slowly counting up, 1, 2, 3, all the way to twenty.

“There’s a dungeon master, moi,” he says, gesturing with grandiosity toward himself, “who spins a tale for the rest of the party.” Steve nods along, like he knows what a party means, or what a dungeon master is. “Alright, you ready, Stevie?”

“What? Munson, I didn’t agree to–”

Eddie jumps up, making Steve startle back, barely keeping hold of the die. “Sir Steven, arrives at the front of a castle. It’s covered in vines, they’re trailing up the windows, making it impossible to see the glass that covers them.”

Steve glances at the windows of the Munson trailer, the way the vines have blocked out more of the light, leaving trailing shadows like vines to cast shapes across the stained carpet.

“Sir Steven unmounts his horse,” Eddie says, miming lifting his leg off an imaginary beast and jumping down to the ground. Steve can almost picture it. “What do you do?”

Eddie’s making an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact, eye’s shining with more life than he’s shown in what has to be days. “I go into the castle,” Steve replies, voice lilting in question. Is there a right answer?

Eddie claps his hands three times, quick and quiet, grinning as he drops back down, this time on the coffee table, leaning toward Steve. “Roll the die.”

Steve looks down at the die in his hand. He leans to the side, rolling it on the table by Eddie’s side. The clatter it makes as it bounces sounds loud in the absence of this world. It stops. Steve leans over at the same time as Eddie, Eddie’s hair tickling the back of his neck with the way it trails down.

“A nineteen!” Eddie says excitedly. “The door knob turns easily, both unlocked and well-oiled enough not to make a sound despite its apparent age. You walk into the castle. It’s dark in the foyer, but there’s a candle inexplicably lit, beckoning you up the stairs. Your armored feet clack loudly on the worn-down wooden floors as you walk up them. You reach the candle, what do you do?”

“I pick up the candle?” Steve asks.

Eddie picks up the die, putting it back into Steve’s hands. He rolls it. “Three?”

Eddie clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Just as you pick up the candle, it’s as if a breeze rolls through the whole castle. You keep a hold on the candlestick, but the flame goes out. You freeze. Sir Steven, you’re practically shaking in your boots! And then, a voice, dark and grating snarls out of the darkness in front of you, ‘who dares disturb my slumber??”

Steve looks down at the die, that damning three staring back at him. “So, low numbers make bad things happen, and high numbers make something good?” he asks.

Eddie waffles his hand back and forth, “sorta,” he says, pickup the die up off the coffee table and throwing it in the air again. “It’s more like, whether or not you complete that one action you list correctly. Like, a one is going to make you miss your target if you’re firing at something, yeah, but it doesn’t say anything about whether you should’ve been firing the gun in the first place.”

Steve digests this. “It’s kind of like sports stats,” he says, thinking aloud. “A high number of assists means you’re helping get the ball in the hoop, but it doesn’t say anything about how the game’s gonna go.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Eddie replies.

SIlence falls between them, the only sound the quiet slap of the die hitting Eddie’s palm. Steve waits. And waits. And waits. His impatience grows, “Well?”

Eddie snaps his eyes to Steve’s face, brow furrowed. “Well, what?”

“What happens with the sleeping dude?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide, more whites than pupil, as his mouth drops open, seemingly shocked by something Steve doesn’t understand. It takes him a second to continue, but he does.

Steve fights off some old magical wizard dude, destroying the castle and breaking the wizard’s curse in the process. He crumbles to dust. It’s kind of sad. He tells Eddie as much, only to get laughed at.

“He was tired, man,” he says. “All he wanted was for his nightmare to end, and someone to help him rest.”

Steve looks back at the vines crawling up the windows, and can’t help but empathize.

“I don’t know man,” he says. “Sports seem easier.”

Eddie laughs. “Sports are boring, Harrington. What’s there even to like about throwing a ball through a hoop like a bunch of cavemen?”

“It’s like,” Steve starts, before stalling out. Staring down at his knees. He’s still thinking about the wizard and how sad and tired he must’ve been. There’s something to be said about a game that doesn’t leave you in a moral quandary, wondering if assisted suicide is okay if the dude is tired and old enough.

“It’s like, when I’m swimming, or running the ball up the court, I’m so in my body that I’m out of it, you know?” Steve asks. “I don’t have to think about anything but the next step. Does that make sense?”

When he looks up from his knees, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy, and he’s holding a piece of hair in front of his mouth again. “Sure,” he says, voice almost squeaking out before he clears it, dropping it past his normal register, “That makes sense.”

Steve laughs. “Whatever, man.”

There are two feelings warring in Steve’s stomach. He’s more comfortable, here on a ratty couch playing a nerd game with Eddie Munson than he can ever remember being. He’s terrified of getting out, terrified of staying here, terrified of what waits for them outside these walls.

The feelings coalesce in his stomach, making him queasy. Or maybe he’s just hungry. He can almost smell the bacon frying on the griddle, can almost see Eddie in the booth across from him.

Maybe they can play his nerd game while they wait for a coffee refill. Steve sighs, not thinking of Tommy and Carol at all.

Part 13

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my fic #psa that i dont know anything about d&d #so we're headcannoning that eddie dumbed it down a LOT for steve it's really because wtf do i know

371 notes · View notes

behindthesoul · 6 months

Text

Johnny Cage Dating Edenian Royalty

Masterlist || Not proofread

Happiest man in all the realms - I swear!

Johnny and you are the epitome of “me and the baddie I bagged by being funny.”

No one, especially Edenians, know why you’re together. Your mother, Sindel, would rather you be with someone more noble but you don’t care.

You’re happy and you’re free.

He would definitely try to get you to be in one of his movies. His newest idea is about a fish-out-of-water hero who dates the Empress’ child at the end of the movie. Guess who is playing who?

You would most likely have to decline, you don’t want the royal court to dislike your decision to be with Johnny more than they already do.

You (un)fortunately get the pleasure to hear many of his royalty jokes.

Why did the queen go to the dentist? To get her crown checked!

What does King Santa fly with? Reign-deer!

If you’re not the type to laugh at jokes like this, he’ll keep making them in hopes that he’ll one day be able to get you to crack a smile.

The words your highness spill out his mouth often. Either as a cute and affectionate pet name or something he says when he’s trying to piss you off.

Probably parades you around Sun Do like “fuck yeah I’ve got a super hot royal holding my hand and you don’t.”

Gets super smug seeing any jealous faces.

He’ll take you to Earthrealm and have a movie marathon. Johnny will show you all the classics as well as his own movies. I hope you like Ninja Mime 1, 2, and 3.

Johnny also shows you around. You’ll see breathtaking mountains and the shittiest looking restaurant all in the same day.

He really does love you more than anything and wants nothing more than to show that love off, but it may come off as him treating you as a trophy.

If you tell him it makes you uncomfortable he won’t understand at first. It’s possible for him to be a bit defensive. He’ll get it sooner or later, though. You’ll just have to make sure to explain it in a way he understands.

All in all, if you are Edenian royalty, date a slightly washed up actor from a different realm. He just may treat you like gold. <3

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat fanfic #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #mortal kombat headcanons #johnny cage x reader

207 notes · View notes

fanficfanattic · 6 months

Text

Just watched the Wembley confrontation approximately 30 times so I could write down the exact dialogue. And to get more of the body language and gestures down. The scene lasts for precisely two minutes. (37:07-39:07)

James pokes his head into the room asking, “Are you decent?” Laughs as he crosses the doorway.

James walks past the security guard to enter the room, puts his thumb to his nose, before saying to the guard, “I told ya” and then to himself, “prick.” Laughs.

James is only a bit into the room before he says to the room, “Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen.” He throws his arms wide and mockingly groans before laughing again.

James is now fully into the center of the room and turns a bit to try and address all of the team. Says “Hey, it’s a tough one lads. It’s a tough one, but no shame to it.”

“Cause, you know, we only ever” pretends to tap his temple like he’s trying to remember something: “beat,” does a few feet bounces and fake little punches, “uh, everybody we play.” Laughs again.

James turns to Lasso who does the quickest fake Midwestern polite smile while Roy stands next to him stiff and angry. Will is looking over his shoulder, between the two coaches, stocking or taking out bottles from a mini fridge maybe?

“So you pups had no chance,” while once again spreading his arms. He finally looks right at Jamie and lets out a fake gasp before saying “Oh.” As though he is disappointed to see Jamie is actually standing there.

He points double finger guns at him while adding, “And there he is, my son.”

Says “My own flesh and blood” with mock grief in his voice. He stares at Jamie from half a room away, and bounces on his feet again.

“Poor Jamie, my son.”

He rocks his hips loose even as he brings his pointer finger to his nose. Does an exaggerated sniff. Then he goes back to addressing the room at large. Faces one way as he starts to talk.

“Now,” and he gestures with his right hand, then turns to take in the other side, “maybe I’m thinking his heart’s still in Manchester” and he gestures with both hands slightly towards his own chest “and that’s why he missed that sitter in the first half.” He points a finger into the air like he’s having a eureka moment.

Chuckles. Does another of his fake sympathetic groans.

“Oh ho ho.” And then lets out a little “Whew!”

Then starts tiny jogging towards Jamie while sing songing “You absolutely bottled* it.” He stops to throw his head back, arms wide, and then straightens up to slow walk closer. He laughs while saying, “You bottled it!”

Then he’s only a few steps away from Jamie and starts pantomiming some boxing moves. Ducks just a bit, has his hands in fists doing small jabs. “What were you thinking?”

Then he is right at Jamie and continues to do the small jabs, not hard, but landing like small pokes right against Jamie’s stomach. Jamie ever so slightly steps back. James pauses for half a second and then does an extra jab pushing Jamie another half step back.

James lets out a teasing “Ah ah ah.” Then “I’m only kidding, hey.” Before laughing again with a bit of a cough in the middle.

Ted does not look impressed and Roy has titled his head back a bit to squint at the man. Will is focusing on the mini fridge until James starts talking again. This time more quietly and just to Jamie.

“Hey, look, uhh…do us a favor…” and he comes back on screen as he moves his hand from his face, while sniffing, but like he’d just gestured Jamie closer or perhaps had gestured to his ear to indicate Jamie should listen to him. He continues “and get Denbo and Bug past security.”

James moves his right arm to indicate the stadium on the other side of the wall. “They wanna go on the pitch-” then he mimes raising a camera and clicking it. Jamie’s mouth turns down into a frown while his head gives the smallest shake. “-take a few snaps and all that, yeah?” Before licking his lips, letting out another sniff, and bouncing on his feet 2-3 times.

Jamie finally says something, which is to answer his dad with “I’d rather ‘em not.” He stares a hair over his father’s shoulder, not making eye contact with anyone.

James looks a bit to the side, not in embarrassment nor seemingly worried what people were thinking about his son turning his request down. More like he didn’t actually need to look at Jamie anymore.

“Yeah, they only want to look around.” And he looks back to Jamie again but it’s because he’s miming a guy jab with his left hand while saying “It’ll only take a second.” Then mimes punching him right in the jaw with a weird sound effect noise. “Doosh(?).”

James mouth drops open into a wide grin and chuckle.

Jamie repeats himself word for word, “I’d rather ‘em not.” But he is slightly louder this time and looks right at his father. He nods his head ever so slightly.

Offscreen James responds with, “What?” Then focuses on his face returning to mockery.

“What, you’re not gonna all go moody little bitch” while looking Jamie up and down, continuing, “just cause you got your arse served to you on a plate, are ya?”

Jamie is quieter again when he responds with “Don’t speak to me like that.” Jamie is back to not meeting his dad’s eye even as James starts bouncing on the balls of his feet again.

Then he pushes a little closer in to Jamie, face seemingly open to hearing what Jamie has to say, before going “ahuh?”

Jamie repeats himself word for word for the second time. “Don’t speak to me like that.”

James repeats his “Huh?” while pressing closer again, head tilted as though to hear him better. Jamie tries to repeat himself for a third time but his dad interrupts with his own third “huh?”

When Jamie finishes, his dad says “Huh?” a fourth time and then pulls back a minuscule amount to look Jamie in the eye.

James says to him “Okay, well,” and James lifts his right hand to flick up in the air. “-let’s see if you can hear this, hmm?”

Beard is shown in the background seething. James is still right in Jamie’s face, where he sniffs again, before leaning a bit closer as though to whisper.

“You know that ‘ickle tv show’ you made?” And makes broad gestured quotation marks even. “You just made it easier for Manchester City” He flicks the first finger of his left hand up like he’s about to count off things but instead uses it to point at Jamie while adding “to kick you to the curb!”

Then he leans back with a grin to continue mocking Jamie. He even adds a tongue waggle of his own.

“And look where you are now.” He laughs in his face. “Twaddling about with a bunch of…”

He spreads his arms wide and spins 180° to address the whole room. “…amateurs! No offense, no offense.”

No one responds to him, so he gives more of a belly laugh, and scratches the side of his nose with his right forefinger. Then turns around, leading with that finger pointing at Jamie. Who is not only not looking his father in the eye, he’s truly looking downwards for the first time.

Then he flattens his mouth and starts to turn away with his dad going “Huh?”

James grabs Jamie’s left bicep with his own left hand, to swing him back to face him yelling “Don’t turn your back on me” then pushing Jamie while finishing with “you pussy.”

Jamie pushes off from the foot he’d stepped back from his dad with to throw his punch.

James hits the floor, palms stopping his fall, with a groan. He pushes half up onto his hip and puts the back of his hand to his face.

Jamie’s face is in a pained grimace.

He pants out “Jesus god” while glaring venomously up at his son. Which must be when he notices that Jamie is wild eyed and terrified. The grimace is gone and instead he looks stunned.

James laughs before pushing himself up to standing, Jamie’s mouth parts while his dad is saying “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

Once standing, James says “You can have that one for free.” And gets one bounce in while readying his own fist.

Which is when Beard grabs him and says “Time to go.”

While being dragged towards the door, James is still trying to fight Jamie. “You wanna go, big time. Hey? Let’s have it, Jamie!”

Beard almost has him to the door when James screams “Don’t you forget where you came from!” Then Beard gives his “watch the door” warning while pushing James’ head against the door.

Edit 2: @kaph123 asked if James said “balled it” (what cc says and I originally posted despite some questions) or “bottled it” (a more common expression). I did a relisten and it sounded like balled BUT also like the accent might be in play. @itsjustpoopeh listened with better headphones and revealed there was a bit of a stutter which indicates its most likely Mancunian consonant dropping and should be bottled. I changed it above!

Edited to add the comfort we all needed at the reminder of our tender human hearts from @thetarttfuldickhead 🤣

#jamie tartt #james tartt sr #james loosens his hips to prepare to fight the same way jamie does to prepare to train #thanks i hate it #ted lasso #roy kent #coach beard #willis beard #will kitman #abuse of an adult child #child abuse #verbal abuse #self defense #trauma

178 notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

More Than Friends

Friends + Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Sequel. Set a couple of months after Are We Friends? After a week away, Anthony missed his girl a lot...

Warnings: 18 smut. minors DNI, handjobs, masturbation (incl. with shower head), vaginal sex, wall/shower sex, touch of edging/denial, unexpected feels in the heart area.

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: This is birthday request fill for @colettebronte for her recent birthday. She requested a sequel to Are We Friends? Sorry I'm a few days late, I hope you enjoy this enough to compensate. This didn’t go where I expected. I know it's Christmas Eve and this isn't remotely Christmassy. Sorry about that. Anyway please enjoy <3

You groan as the insistent buzz of your phone on your bedside table rouses you. You fumble to pick it up and squint at the name onscreen, reluctantly swiping to answer.

“What excuse do you have for calling me at…,” you pull the phone away from your face briefly, grimacing at the brightness, “… 2:13 am, and it better be because you are on fire or something,” you grumble.

“I love how grouchy you are when you wake up,” his baritone voice laced with amusement.

“Bridgerton,” your tone is a warning.

“I was hoping you’d let me in,” Anthony chuckles.

You sit bolt upright. “You are here? Now? Why?!”

“Yes, and yes, I figured ringing your phone was politer than your doorbell. To the last part, do I need a reason?” he drops almost an octave lower,

“Oh god, is this a booty call?” you mime brushing a gross substance off yourself even though he can’t see you.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He chides but with no heat, evading the question.

“If you answer these riddles three…” you begin, your spirited antagonism still there despite your burgeoning relationship.

“Let me in, weirdo,” he chortles.

“Okay, okay.”

You throw back the covers and shuffle to your front door on autopilot, still not fully awake. Opening the front door to find a suave, suited man with no tie and two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. You almost resent how debonair and put-together he is in the early hours. It's been a week since you saw him in person, and you are surprised as you realise how much you missed him, as he stands before you in flesh and blood.

“You look adorable,” he sighs fondly and steps over the threshold to embrace you.

It just dawns on you; you didn't even check your reflection on the way to the door. Your hair is probably a state, but at least you can usually pull off a spaghetti-strapped top and pyjama bottoms.

“Shut up, I do not; I look sexy and fierce,” you lobby as his arms wrap tight around your waist.

“Of course you do. Adorably sexy,” he placates with mock assurance, his breath warm on your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder, curling into you. On instinct, you hug him back and push your front door closed over his shoulder.

“So what are you doing here?” your bemusement muffled into the hair at his temple as he hunches over you. Up close, you can see a few greys, and it does something to you that you don't want to think about. There are traces of his cologne, but mostly he just smells like Anthony, and you breathe deep, the scent both comforting and stimulating.

“I missed you,” he says simply.

“I saw you yesterday on Facetime, weirdo,” you point out, parroting back his word but enjoying the extended embrace. He hasn't kissed you yet, which is unusual—this seems more affectionate than sexual.

“That’s not the same,” he argues, his lips brushing the sensitive skin under your ear, his hug even tighter. “My plane just landed; I had my driver drop me here.”

“Is that because Ealing is closer to Heathrow than Mayfair?” your query tinged with a touch of sarcasm.

“No, weirdo, it's because I wanted to see you,” he pulls away from your shoulder and cups your face. “But I'm glad it's closer; I'm exhausted,” he admits quieter, and you see the tiredness etched into the corners of his eyes, even in the muted glow of your hallway lamp. He moves in and kisses you, but it’s a gentle, chaste brush over your lips that makes your insides melt just a fraction.

“So, not a booty call? This is a use-my-bed-to-crash-in call?” you tease gently with a twisted pout, holding his hands and walking backwards towards your bedroom.

“If you don't mind, yeah, I just need sleep,” he says sotto voce, stifling a yawn and trailing you.

The fact that he has sought you out to sleep next to you, not sleep with you, seems like a rather profound step forward in your dynamic. But then, many things can seem consequential in the early hours, so you decide not to dwell on it.

“No suitcase?” you remark as you move into the darkness of the bedroom.

“Had my driver take my luggage home,” he explains, shucking his jacket and hanging it on the little chair you use as a clothes horse more than anything. The fact that he knows it causes a tiny flutter of something in your stomach.

“Want some help?” you offer modestly, gesturing to his hand now on his fly, testing the waters around if sex might happen despite his tiredness.

He shakes his head but with a look appreciative of the offer. Ok, no sex then.

“Why don't you get into bed? I'll just brush my teeth and join you shortly.”

You settle under the covers as he disappears into your bathroom, trying not to let your mind turn over too much about this different situation. Jetlagged and sleepy Anthony is a very sweet thing, not your usual sexy sparring partner.

After a few moments, there is a dip in the bed as he climbs into the other side behind you. An arm wraps around your waist as he shuffles into you and pulls you back into him in a spooning position. You feel a wave of body heat through the cotton of your nightwear and realise he is only in boxer briefs. His embrace is comforting, and he sighs onto your shoulder, dropping a soothing kiss there before fluffing the pillow and settling around you, his hand warm on your belly, his minty breath dusting the nape of your neck as he seems to bury his face in your hair and inhale deeply.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, almost into your skull.

“Goodnight,” you whisper back, knowing his warmth and weight will probably lull you back to sleep before you have too many errant thoughts about what is transpiring. When his breathing slows and gets deeper, you feel yourself being tugged under too.

—

Something doesn't feel right. Not in a bad way, not in the slightest. Something feels far too good, and it's distracting your slumber. Or maybe it's just a very vivid dream. Why you would be waking up within a dream seems like a strange point to focus on… Then suddenly, there is a zing of pleasure in your breast that races down your body to your core.

Your world rearranges as you dance the line between sleeping and waking. The sensation becomes sharper as a strong pull on your nipple hurtles you into consciousness with a sharp inhale.

“The lady awakens,” his bemused rumble skitters across your rapidly goose-pebbling skin. You are lying on your back, your top rucked up around your armpits, and there is a head of chestnut hair as you look down.

Anthony Bridgerton. On top of you. His mouth attached to your left breast, something hot and hard branding your thigh through his underwear, where he straddles it.

“Anthony,” your voice is rough-edged from sleep.

His lips pull off your nipple as his head tilts up—his brown eyes shining in the pastel morning light bleeding through the curtains.

“I thought waking you up this way might not be entirely unpleasant for you,” the smirk on his handsome face far too appealing. “An apology for the early hours wake-up call.”

“You are always welcome here, open invitation,” you answer truthfully, “but especially if this is your idea of an alarm clock. Please continue,” you quip, whipping off the top rucked up around your armpits and raising an expectant eyebrow.

He huffs a laugh and kisses your sternum before transferring to your right breast, climbing between your legs and settling over you in a wave of natural body scent that makes your mouth water.

He lathes his tongue wide over your nipple, lapping gently, then biting down with an edge of teeth until it is a stiff peak that he closes his luscious lips around and sucks hard. You can’t hold back the little staccato noises as your hands run over his muscular shoulders and into his luscious hair.

“Sadly,” his speech ghosts over your saliva-damp flesh, “I need to take a shower before this goes any further. I should have taken one last night, but I was too exhausted. Need to wash the journey off me,” he attests as he goes back to lightly kissing your breast.

You doubt that phrase carries as much significance for someone travelling first class as it does back in economy, where you’re usually crammed in, but you can understand the sentiment.

“I think you smell pretty good right now,” you voice without thought.

“I feel like I haven’t showered in 24 hours which, with the time difference, I probably haven’t,” he deadpans as he surges up and pecks your cheek, his chest hair tickling the stiff damp peaks of your nipples. “Care to join me?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye as he kisses over to your ear.

“Is this your way of telling me I smell bad?” You joke, but there’s a flit of concern on your face.

“Y/n,” his resonant voice uttering your name so close to your ear makes your pussy clench as he traces the shell with his nose, “of course you don’t; you always smell wonderful,” the casual compliment just slipping out. “Will you please just say yes to this obvious invitation to shower sex?”

Oh.

“Well, in that case….” you reply, running your hands into his luscious hair, “yes, Lord Bridgerton, I will shower with you.”

“Thank you. Was that so difficult?” he teases with a playful pout, pulling back the covers and hauling you out of bed topless.

His boxer briefs are tented in a delicious way, and part of you wants to just sink to your knees and take him in your mouth regardless of how much he wants to shower. In fact, something about him being a little less than fresh is a peculiar turn-on—just so very potently him.

“Why are you looking at me like you’ve never seen my erection before?” His bemused expression tracking your eye line and not missing your subtle lip bite as he moves towards the bathroom, still holding your hands.

“What? It’s an impressive one. You’ve been away for a week, and maybe I just need to remind myself,” you posit as he pulls you into an embrace.

“Oh, is that so?” His tone is light and taunting, arms encircling your ribcage. He stills in the doorway and surges his hip towards you, so you feel his rigid cock pressed into your belly. “Memory coming back yet?” Dropping his voice into a range that is sinful.

“Maybe…” you demure into his shoulder, then pull away, moving to brush your teeth before you act on the urge to kiss him senseless.

He crowds into your back as you reach for toothbrushes. There is something so casually intimate about the stolen glances in the mirror as you both brush, his chest hair tickling your shoulder blades as he spiders his fingers under the curve of your breast with a small foamy smile. As you rinse, his fingers untie the drawstring on your pyjama bottoms, and his reflection smoulders as he pushes them over the swell of your hips, falling to the floor. He presses the length of his body into your back, and you emit a faint moan as his heated flesh drags over yours; something rigid and hot nestles the upper curve of your bottom.

“Better get naked if you plan to shower,” you smirk at him in the mirror and feel a swell of triumph as he reaches down and pushes off his underwear. His cock bobbing up insistently. You whip around to face him, fisting him and squeezing reflexively.

“Fuckkk,” he stutters, and a hand rounds behind your head, grabbing with an intensity that surprises and arouses, fingers curling into the cords of your neck. “I’d almost forgotten how good it feels to have your hand on me rather than my own.”

The admission sounds like he’s not been intimate with anyone else since you last saw him. You’ve not discussed exclusivity yet, but he is a rich man travelling the world on business, and you have no delusions about the lifestyle that might entail if he so chooses. As you pump him gently in your hand, your breath catches at the mental image of him with his hand wrapped around his cock in some fancy five-star hotel room, sprawled in the middle of a plush king-sized bed.

“You should have called me; I could have talked you through my technique,” you jest, deciding to meet his statement with light humour, your hands moving to cup his balls as he hums contentedly, the hand on your neck squeezing.

“Noted for next time,” is the amused reply, and then he walks you back into the shower enclosure, flicking on the dial.

The warm spray hits your shoulder blades, and you sigh, pulling his arms to join you. He hums in satisfaction, his head tilting back as he luxuriates in the stream of water. You turn up the pressure on the showerhead, and his resounding moan of pleasure echoes up the shower walls; the deep, rich tone causes your nipples to pebble hard—you have to fight your urge to twine around him. Instead, you reach for your shower gel and loofah and scrub his skin lightly, starting at his neck.

“Mmmmm, please, can I have you in my shower every time?” his voice wistful, eyes still closed, almost swaying.

You gently and methodically bathe the skin of his arms and upper torso, enjoying swirling patterns into his chest hair as you buff him clean. As you move lower over his abs, you can't help but grab his cock with a soapy hand and squeeze lightly, cleansing it thoroughly as you tease with delicate motions. He moans and slowly opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with hooded desire.

“I'm just making sure you are thoroughly clean,” you tease, the hand still rubbing his cock long after it is sufficiently cleansed.

He grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss that is all tongues and teeth, biting in intensity. Your tongues roll over each other in tandem with the movement of your hand. When he finally lets you take a breath, you quietly ask him to turn around. He whines a little as you release his cock, but does as you request. Pausing to admire the sweeping curve of his back and the expanse of muscle tapering down to the trim bum that is so irresistible, you push your body into his back, nipples catching his ribs, and he growls as you teeth the upper notch of his spine.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper into the nape of his neck, and surprisingly he does so without retort. He’s usually the one who takes charge, but his silent obedience makes your breath hitch.

He groans softly, and you can’t resist a peek over his shoulder, his body curled slightly concave, cock fisted in his right hand, moving at a languid pace. Reluctant to look away from the delicious tableau, you run the loofah down his spine and lather his back before your hands land on his pert rounded cheeks. You crouch down to wash his muscular, tanned legs, kissing a cheek and enjoying the way his bum flexes as you do. You straighten back to stand behind him, listening to his huffed little noises, watching his arm speed up a fraction as your soapy fingers slide along the crack of his ass.

“All clean; you can stop now,” you offer into his skin.

There is a blur of movement as suddenly he grabs the auxiliary shower head and flicks the spray to a different setting, spins around and pushes it between your legs, the jet expertly pummeling your clit in hot pulsing waves. You almost squeal at the intensity—the switch of power back to him in a whiplash moment.

“How is that?” His voice is velvety as he bites your earlobe. “I need to hear all your delicious sounds, don’t hold back now.”

You attempt to writhe away from the intense sensation, but a strong arm holds you in place, pushing the shower head more insistently up into your flesh. You moan, and he encourages you, a wet slippery hand smearing down your back and spanking your cheek, making you jump and squeak.

“Get inside me.” The plea tumbles from your lips. You want, no, you need, to feel him invading you, his hands rough on your body, him making needy noises, you begging for more.

He drops the shower head, so it is pulsing aimlessly into a far corner, water pattering against the glass, and walks you until your back bumps into the wall. The tiles are cool and glassy upon your heated flesh as he grabs your left leg and loops it over his slippery arm, pulling you open. All with a devastating look on his beautiful face, droplets of water skating down his cheekbones, lips parted and plush; you just can’t take your eyes off him.

Then he nudges your entrance with his tip, requesting access.

“Did you sleep with anyone else when you were away?” your concern slipping out unbidden.

He frowns, and there is a minute shake of his head. “No, why would I?”

“I wanted to know before we do this again, unprotected,” you whisper vulnerably, closing your eyes, embarrassed. Except for that first heated night, you have been using condoms.

“I would never do that,” his sincerity makes your eyes fly open. “We are together; you are the only person I’m having sex with, the only person I've had sex with since that party, and the only one I’ve done it this way with in many years.”

You rest your forehead on his cheek. “Thank you,” you mumble quietly, him answering your lingering questions and erasing doubts in a few sentences.

“Don’t thank me; you should expect that of me. You have no idea what a gift this is, what we have—this connection, this dynamic. It’s very…. precious to me,” he murmurs into your jaw. It’s the rawest and most unguarded he has ever been. Your breath catches as he does so. Something glowing and fluttering under your ribs, like it wants to break free.

“Anthony Bridgerton.” you breathe lightly, your heartbeat soaring in your veins, “are we becoming more than friends?”

“I’m afraid so,” his laugh is a precious feathered thing as he surges into your body and steals all other thoughts from your head.

He stills buried deep inside you, filling you in a way no one else has. Just this has your clit pulsing from the stretch, heat and presence of him. He shoots you an affectionate, heated look before his lips find yours. The hand not around your leg cups your jaw and directs the kiss into something open-mouthed and greedy as he rocks into your body, swallowing your little noises. This languid slow pace feels like the start of something electric, like the patter of rain that arrives before an intense storm you can hear rumbling on the horizon.

Your hands band around his bum as his thrusts grow more intense, and you encourage the movement with a press of your fingers into the muscular round of his bottom. Your teeth skim the meaty muscle where his neck meets his shoulder, and it spurs him to push deeper, piercing your hilt and tugging on that invisible string that seems to run between your hipbones and makes your eyes roll back and your brain turn to static.

“God, Anthony, please, fuck me so hard,” your voice barely recognisable to you, needy and throaty.

The corresponding noise he makes has every cell of your body on fire. This man’s ability to invade your every sense is something that might typically scare you, but with him, it just feels like something primal and earthy—a meeting of bodies just as nature intended.

You gasp as he hooks your other leg over his other arm, pressing the length of your spine hard into the wall. You are entirely at his mercy now, held in his arms, pinned, sliding on the damp, cool tile as the warm swirl of mist from the rain-head shower curls around you.

“I’ve got you,” he assures against your temple.

You nuzzle his face until he pulls back a little, intuiting you need to see his face. There’s a sincerity in his wild gaze that feels so close to authentic that it's a dangerous fire, his eyes blazing burned umber.

You transmit your trust all you can with the sincerity of your expression, and his responding smile is like warm honey settling over your bones as he starts to move again. The solemnity of the moment you just shared rapidly morphs into something hot and desperate again. Him driving up into your body with a snap of his hips that makes him grunt and you keen, wrapping your arms tight around his neck as he fucks you with a blistering pace and depth, your breasts squashed across his pectoral muscles.

Curses and a chorus of yeses fall from your lips between panting breaths as he takes you with such force you slam into the tiles; you know your spine will be sore later, but you don’t care. You want this so much. Blinding pleasure licks at the corners of your conscience as you feel him hot and steely, pounding into you over and over, your walls clinging to him as he stretches you in that delicious way.

He is panting hard from the effort and exertion right in your ear. His occasional moans and words cause a spike of lust in your body, and you whisper encouragements and pleas to not stop, greedy for what you need to push you over the edge.

His arms hitch your legs higher, and he moves down the wall, so your bottom rests on a cool metal grab bar. His hands wrap around it; your legs held up and open even more. The change of angle and leverage for him makes the experience even more intense. He can drive much more vigorously now, and he starts to push up and hit that spot inside that makes you cry out, slamming against your clit as he hits your hilt.

“Fuck Anthony,” you grit out, your teeth clenched, jaw held tight and whole body going taunt as you dangle close to the edge of your orgasm so suddenly.

He slows his pace, and you groan in frustration, taking long, languid motions, using the grab bar to propel himself up and into you.

“I’m so close,” you grit out.

“I know you are,” his voice velvety and proud, “that’s why I slowed down; I want to take you to the edge so many times. I love it when you are mindless and drunk on sex.”

“Anthony, please let me come,” you plead.

“You will,” he vows.

“I want it now,” you pant, almost petulant.

He chuckles richly into your ear “it will be so much better if you let me do this. I’ll only do it one more time, I promise. Then you will come multiple times, and I will fuck you through it.”

So aroused by that little speech, you just nod and move a hand from around his neck to slide between your bodies and pinch your nipple.

“Oh yes, that’s it,” he goads, moving quicker, spiralling you higher again. Your clit and channel burning hot and pulsing. Just as you feel the first ripple of your cunt he stills completely, and you thrash hard in frustration at the denial. You desperately try to move, but he bears you so tight onto the wall that you have no range of motion. You are pinned and impaled onto his cock as he keeps you open to the top of your channel, throbbing and denied. You feel your scalp crawl and every digit on your body flex.

“Anthony,” your voice ragged, “please, please let me come.”

He pulls back, and the mischief and arousal over his face blow you away. He holds your gaze and tilts your heads together as he starts to roll his hips, surging into you almost in a wave-like action.

“Look at me,” he commands when your eyes flutter closed, and so you do, reopening them and meeting his intense stare.

Suddenly he is moving at a blistering pace, and you start to yell with every stroke, but he won’t let you look away. His nose on yours, your mouth panting the same air.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, and your hand slips between your bodies. The moment your fingertips brush your swollen clit, you yell, and you can’t stop the tide from approaching. Your whole body convulses in strong waves as you scream, cry, and writhe on him. Yet his pace doesn’t waver. He just hisses through his teeth as your body clamps around his cock. His lips find yours and slant over each other with bruising intensity.

He was right. Twice denied, you are so overwrought that his pounding action takes you repeatedly until you are floating somewhere far away from your physical self, going limp in his arms, your mind utterly offline. The blissful state is almost ethereal as you feel him grunting and stilling, emptying himself with a guttural moan as deep as he can be inside you, his whole being twitching, his mouth open over yours, gusting hot and cursing loudly. You feel the warmth of his cum running down your walls as he slowly softens and slips out of your body.

“Holy shit,” you whisper; nothing has been as close to that intense before, and your legs feel weak and stiff as a newborn giraffe as he gently lowers you to the floor with a bemused huff.

“I told you,” he preens, reaching to flick off the shower as you just slump against the tile, grasping the railing you were perched on for leverage.

“Anthony, I don’t think my legs work,” you confess, trying to move but unable.

“Good,” he laughs, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently over and over. “I fucked you so well you can’t walk, just like I promised on text the other day.”

“I thought that was a figure of speech” you shake your head disbelieving.

“Oh no, definitely not,” he counters with a smug but handsome smile. “I guess you’ll just have to lay with me in bed all day to recover,” he says playfully kissing your nose, “what a horrible shame.”

——

Later, entangled in bed together after a delicious brunch (where you had your usual sparring contest that somehow ended up making out roughly against the fridge), he pulls you under him and stares into your eyes.

“There is something I would like to give you,” he expresses, almost reserved.

He leans away and snags something from his trouser pocket on the floor beside the bed.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

“This better not be something where you put a spider on me,” you wisecrack as he unfurls your hand on the pillow next to your head.

“I promise it's not that,” he chuckles as he places something sharp and cold into your palm. “Open,” he orders softly, and you see a slim metal key in your hand.

You look up at him with a knitted brow.

“That is a key to my place,” he explains. “I would like you to use it whenever you want. Even if I'm not home, you are always welcome.”

You can’t stifle the gasp that escapes your lips at the significance of the gesture, and you push up and plant a kiss on his lips.

His voice turns even more delicate, as if talking too loud would break the moment. “I couldn't bear the thought of returning to an empty apartment after a week away alone,” he admits quietly. “That's why I came here instead. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I have known you most of my life, and I just… I like being around you.” As he finishes the sentence, his exhale has a slight tremulant quality. “There’s no one I would rather spar with on a lazy Saturday,” he adds with a winning smile that makes you huff a misty-eyed laugh.

“Anthony, I… I… I don't even have a spare key to give you,” you blurt out, a fretting look clouding your expression.

His hearty laugh at your response fills the room.

“I know a locksmith,” he shrugs with a modest smile. “But….” he elongates the last letter of the word as his hands slide down your sides and his lips find that sensitive spot below your ear. “I think that can wait until later. Don't you?” His tone turns silky and decadent as he rolls his whole body into yours, his hard cock brushing your clit.

Yes, it can definitely wait.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton

900 notes · View notes

brbsoulnomming · 8 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 10

-----

They're a restless group, checking weapons, going over the plan, bunching together in tiny groups of twos and threes that shift and change as they all seek something - distraction, comfort, anything to keep their minds off what's coming, he supposes.

After a while, Eddie finds himself alone, standing at the little kitchen of the camper and staring into a cabinet like he could stomach anything even if it wasn't all but bare. Erica and Dustin are sitting with their heads leaning into each other, discussing something that must be pretty important with how focused they are, though Eddie can't make it out. Robin's sprawled out on the couch, Nancy's reading through her notes again, one long line of tension. Steve sits with Lucas and Max, all loose limbs and forced ease, like he's done this a dozen times before.

He probably has, Eddie realizes, wondering just how many times this little group has sat together like this, waiting for their turn in the action.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve stand to rock up on his toes, miming tossing a basketball into a hoop.

"And the crowd went wild," Steve says, grinning widely and voice just loud enough to carry to where Eddie's standing. "I should know, I was in the crowd."

Lucas scoffs, says something that Eddie can't make out, though there's something like a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"Robin'll back me up!" Steve says, purposefully louder this time. "Right, Robs?"

"I know better than to blindly agree to anything just like that, not after last time," Robin calls back without even opening her eyes.

"What happened last time?" Eddie asks, too curious not to.

She opens her eyes now, sitting up so she can look piteously at Eddie. "He tricked me into going running at dawn."

"Ouch," Eddie says sympathetically, resolving right then to never let that happen to him. "Thanks for the heads up."

Steve looks between the two of them, nose scrunched up like he's not sure he likes them ganging up on him, which makes Eddie flash a wide, gleeful grin at him.

"You're backing me up that Lucas was awesome at the game," Steve says, waving his hand like he's waving off their previous conversation.

"Oh! Yeah, okay, that I'll back you up on. You were great, Sinclair."

"See?" Steve says, turning back to him triumphantly. "Would I tell you that you were epic if it wasn't true?"

Lucas ducks his head. "Yeah, well, you stood up to cheer for me whenever I even made a good pass, so your definition of what's epic might be a little suspect."

Steve makes another motion with his hands, though Eddie's not sure if it's supposed to mimic some sports move or is just a meaningless gesture. "Man, no one ever cheers at good passes, and they should! Getting the ball to someone is just as important as the one who-"

"You went to the game Friday night?" Dustin interrupts, sounding betrayed. "I thought you had a date?"

Eddie… didn't know that Dustin knew that much about what was going on in Steve's life, which. All right, maybe there was some truth to how much Dustin talked about the guy beyond their shared adventures in the Upside Down.

"I did!" Steve protests. "Brenda and I went to the game."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "…you took your date to a high school basketball game?" He doesn't want to agree with Dustin, but - he kind of agrees with Dustin, here. If that's Steve's idea of romance…

Steve scowls at him. "No, I took my date to a championship game where one of my-" He cuts himself off, jaw snapping shut with an audible click.

Robin immediately pounces on his unfinished sentence, gleeful. "One of your kids! Aw, Steve, you took your date to see your kid's basketball game."

"Shut up!" Steve retorts. "I took my date to see one of my friends play, because it was important to him."

Lucas and even Max are grinning at him a little now - though given the gleam in their eyes, Eddie suspects they're getting ready for a whirlwind of teasing.

Eddie glances over at Dustin, expecting to see the same gearing up towards mockery, but instead the kid looks - almost hurt. Before he can say anything, Dustin's speaking up again.

"What, so some dumb basketball game is good enough to make a date out of, but coming to Hellfire isn't?" he demands.

Lucas's smile drops, and Steve frowns at Dustin.

"We really doing this now?" Steve asks.

Eddie looks back and forth between Dustin and Steve, bewildered. "Why the hell would Harrington ever come to Hellfire?"

Look, Eddie may be beyond sold on Steve Harrington being both a badass and a good guy, but he still can't see him anywhere near Hellfire or Dungeons and Dragons in general.

"Because I asked him to!" Dustin shouts. "Because it was important to me, and that's supposed to matter, because he's supposed to be my best friend!"

Silence echoes through the camper. Even Nancy and Erica, who had stayed out of the conversation, are just watching them now.

A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches, and then he nods. "Right, yeah, okay, I guess we're doing this now."

He stalks over to Dustin's side, grabbing the back of his shirt and hauling him towards the door of the RV. Dustin yelps and bats at his hand, but he doesn't actually stop Steve from tugging him outside.

The door slams shut behind them.

The awkward silence lingers. Nancy just looks confused, Lucas won't meet anyone's eyes, Erica and Max have twin expressions that are some mix between defiance and guilt, and Eddie -

"Jesus Christ, does the constant world saving make you all this dramatic about everything?" he asks.

Robin and Max snort, then level him with near identical bitch please looks.

"Do I have to bring up the table speeches again?" Robin asks, at the same time as Max says, "Said the guy who threw a hissy fit about someone missing a session of his dumb little club."

Eddie slaps a hand onto his chest, clutching his heart as if he's just been shot, and lets himself drop dramatically onto one of the chairs. "I am wounded, the likes of which I may never recover from! Will no one defend my honor?"

He casts a glance around the camper, wide eyed and beseeching, gaze never straying to the window. From this angle, he can just see the back of Steve's head, and he'd rather keep everyone's attention away from whatever emotional warfare is going on outside.

"Don't look at me, fool," Erica says. "You are a dramatic little bitch, those're the facts."

"This is stupid," Lucas says suddenly, standing up and pacing across the camper. "I told Steve it doesn't matter. Everyone was right, okay, there's way more important things than a basketball game, and I don't even know if I still want to be on the team after all of this. It's not like it mattered to any of you before, so why are we all talking about this now?"

The levity that Eddie'd been trying to bring back is sucked completely out of the RV, which - yeah, okay, fine, fair enough, this isn't a time for levity. It's just that Eddie doesn't really know what to do without that, and he casts a desperate little look over at Robin and Nancy.

Nancy and Robin exchange a look.

"Lucas," Robin says, softer than he's seen her so far. "Did it matter to you?"

"I-" Lucas stops, looking miserably over at Max before his eyes cut away. "I don't want to answer that."

He doesn't want to lie, he means, or else Max will know, and he doesn't want to admit that it mattered. The way Lucas looks right now is like a kick in the teeth.

Eddie did that. Eddie made one of the kids feel isolated because of something he enjoyed doing, Eddie made the kid's friends find a fucking replacement for him, Eddie made sure that not only did he not get to participate in the final session, but that he was made fully aware that they would all choose Hellfire over him and his shitty basketball game.

Fuck, that Eddie guy is an asshole.

"I should have moved Hellfire," Eddie gets out through gritted teeth.

Lucas's head snaps up. "What?" he asks in disbelief.

"Look, if we're all going to ride off to our very probable heroic deaths soon, then I'm going to do it with a clear conscience and not feeling like I'm the one who made you look like a kicked puppy, all right? Your terrible choice in extracurriculars and even worse choice in new friends notwithstanding, I should have moved Hellfire. It wasn't fair of me to make you choose, or to make your friends choose between you and the campaign, or to hassle you all about it."

The door slams open, making Eddie and several others jump, and Dustin stomps back up the stairs with Steve right on his heels. Dustin's shoulders are hunched and his face is screwed up like he's still upset, but there's no lingering tension between him and Steve. Steve ruffles Dustin's hair, then grips his shoulder briefly as he passes him, so Eddie assumes they've worked whatever it was out.

Dustin stops next to Lucas. "Hey Lucas, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Lucas looks at him warily. "What about?"

Dustin sighs. "About me being sorry?"

Lucas raises an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"

"For making you feel like your friendship wasn't important and not being there to support you?" Dustin gets out, looking at Lucas pleadingly as he edges towards the door, clearly hoping not to have to keep going with everyone else here.

Lucas lets him squirm a little longer before nodding. "Yeah, okay, we can talk. I guess I'm sorry too."

The two of them tromp back down the steps, the door swinging open and closed again. Steve comes to stand by Robin and Eddie, raising one eyebrow at him when he sees how he's still just flopped over the chair.

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at him, grinning. "You tell him that you weren't mad, just disappointed?"

"Shut up," Steve mutters, which Eddie is going to assume means yes.

Nancy's smiling, looking at Steve all amused and a little fond, and even though Eddie was the one who encouraged Steve to go for it, that makes something twist in his stomach.

"Did you do the hands on your hips thing?" Nancy teases.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Little shit just needed a little reassurance, that's all. And a smack upside the head."

Max groans, bending over to rest her forehead on her knees. "I don't want my soulmate to come save me from stupid boys and their delicate feelings."

Eddie beams, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands. "Look, guys, we created a monster. A soulmate talking rebel."

Max chucks a candy bar wrapper at him without looking. He expects it to go wide, or flutter to the ground without making it very far, but it must have some candy remnants still stuck in it because it smacks him right on the forehead.

Which, well, means there's only one thing to do.

"Free snack!" he crows, opening it up to scrape melted chocolate and caramel off with his teeth.

"Dude!" Steve says at the same time as Robin yells, "Gross!"

"Oh my God, Eddie, if you're hungry we have food," Nancy says.

Max sits up enough to fix her gaze on Erica, gesturing at Eddie. "This?" she asks, judgment dripping from her tone. "This is the guy your brother and his stupid friends have decided is their new dork lord?"

"He's your soulmate," Erica scoffs. "He's your responsibility now."

Eddie grins at them both, hoping there's chocolate in his teeth, just so he can watch them make grossed out faces.

When he looks up at Robin, Steve, and Nancy, all three of them are clearly trying not to laugh, and oh, that's even better.

"Now!" Eddie says, pitching his voice a little in a muted version of his dungeon master boom. "Where is this food I was promised? Cause I gotta tell you, Wheeler, cabinets are looking a little bare unless we want to eat tomatoes or beans out of a can."

He's not certain what he's expecting - maybe for them all to look around at each other before he or Max sigh and start doing what every kid who's been left to their own devices before they're old enough to be able to grocery shop knows how to do. It sure as shit isn't for all of them to look at Steve.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah, sure, I'll see what they've got."

Eddie stares at him as he slides past to peek in the cabinets, pulling out canned vegetables and cream of chicken soup and probably expired spices, a worn looking pot and a can opener and a few half eaten bags of chips.

He leans over into Robin's space so he can whisper, "Can Steve actually cook, or are we all about to have food poisoning?"

She flicks him on the forehead. "Steve's a great cook," she says, and she sounds just a little bit irritated, which -

Not what he was going for, at all, and he leans back, hands up palms out to show he's backing off. Nothing that could be interpreted as talking behind Steve's back, got it.

"Just wary about the expiration date on all those cans," he deflects.

She raises one eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it - he did just lick chocolate out of a candy bar wrapper, after all - but she lets him have it.

Max comes up behind Steve, grabbing the can opener and getting to work opening up the cans he's set out. Robin leans back into Eddie's space, his transgression apparently forgiven, and rests her head on her hand, just watching them. It makes him feel like they've done this before, and there's a moment where he's not sure if he should feel out of place.

Nancy comes to sit at the table, looking a bit tentative. Erica's worming her way in there before anyone can say anything, immediately providing commentary on what Steve's doing like it's a cooking show, and something in Eddie settles in a way he's not sure he's ever felt outside of the trailer with Uncle Wayne.

Dustin and Lucas come stomping back in when Steve's got a mess of diced tomatoes and beans and corn and cream of chicken and spices in the pot cooking over a hot plate, all bluster like they think if they make enough noise no one will call attention to why they were outside in the first place.

No one does, but Eddie's pretty sure that's more to do with the fact that no one wants to talk about it than anything else.

"What're we having?" Dustin asks, while Lucas leans in to look only to get shoved away by Max.

"Taco soup," Steve replies. "There's chips to go on top when it's done."

There's not enough tortilla chips for everyone, but it doesn't really matter. Robin shoves handfuls of potato chips on her soup without complaint, and Nancy digs into hers without bothering with any chips at all. Eddie joins Dustin and Lucas in fighting over the bag of corn chips, only to have Max calmly snatch it while they're occupied and share it with Erica.

Both Lucas and Dustin turn huge, sad eyes on Steve - who'd clearly grabbed tortilla chips for his own bowl before anyone else - but he just gives them an unsympathetic smirk and shovels a big spoonful of soup and corn chips into his mouth.

The soup's good, tortilla chips or not, and Eddie actually kind of likes the salty crunch and extra flavor from the barbecue potato chips he'd put in his. Part of him wonders how - or why - Steve Harrington knows not only how to cook, but how to cook with whatever ingredients are left in someone's pantry. It's the first hot food he's had in days, though, and the mood is probably the lightest it's been in a while, so he doesn't ask.

He just eats his taco soup, hunched around a cramped table in a little camper with a group of people who risked their lives for him, who are all about to risk their lives more, and tries not to feel guilty for having a moment of contentment.

—

When Max suddenly jolts up, they all know it must be time.

I'm not ready, appears on Max's arm. It isn't time to move forward with the plan.

Eddie feels like a fucking live wire of nerves, stripped raw and bleeding. Part of him wants to nervously ask more questions about this girl with superpowers, what her plan is, how they're sure they're all on the same page, but the others have a focused air of grim determination about them and he's a little afraid to bring down the morale.

It doesn't really matter, he guesses, since he'd been on board with this plan before they looped in Max's magical soulmate.

Before he knows it, Steve is telling him and Dustin not to be cute, if anything goes wrong, and fuck the way that stupid boy is looking at them. He understands it with Dustin - as much as he hadn't gotten it before, it's obvious that Steve and Dustin think the world of each other, and Eddie's pretty sure that Steve would do just about anything to protect the kid. But Steve is looking at him, too, like he gives a shit if Eddie makes it out of this - like he gives more than a shit.

Eddie wants so bad it nearly overtakes his brain completely. If this is going to be the last time that they see each other, he wants Steve to know - to at least consider -

He chickens out just like he had the last time they were in the Upside Down together, scrambles to come up with something other than I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate - and tells Steve to make him pay instead of saying anything really important.

He's running on pure adrenaline after that, playing like his life depends on it - his life does depend on it, fuck, all of their lives do, and he pours more of himself into his guitar than he ever has before, all that bottled up terror and rage and grief, until he feels like he's all burned up with it.

It's not done.

Of course it's not done, of course the little shits found a way to get past their reinforced walls, and as he looks up at Dustin shouting at him, he knows there's no other option.

Eddie's not going to run this time. They all brought him in, made him a part of this party, relied on him, and he's not going to let them down.

When it comes down to it, anyway, he's the most expendable. He's been nothing more than an NPC for most of this, and yeah, he's been helping the party - flirted with one of its members, maybe thought he could be something more - but in a campaign, his death makes the most sense. A valiant NPC that the player characters will mourn, but they'll all survive onto the next campaign.

It was always going to be him.

There's been so many moments where he thought he was going to die during this last week that it seems fitting for it to finally happen, for it to be the demobats that get him. He makes it longer than he thought it would, but he can't fight them off forever, can't keep them from pinning him down and tearing into him like he's a fucking banquet on display.

And he thinks, one last time, that this is it. This is going to be how he dies.

But he doesn't.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bookworm0690

-----

Part 11

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #max mayfield #erica Sinclair #Nancy Wheeler #steddie soulmates au

276 notes · View notes