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whispereons · 6 months

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Oracle!Reader Part 21

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 20, Part 22

Warning! This series is SAGAU and Imposter AU so expect gore. Although this chapter focus more on mental distress rather then physical.

There's a soft light that shines in front of you, lulling you to open your eyes. Pure white greets you as you slowly come to your senses.

There's no feeling in your body, but it doesn't worry you. The boundless white space you exist in is comforting. The sky whirls around you as new colors burst into being.

The once blank canvas is now painted a dark sky on your left with stars sparkling like jewels. On your right is the morning sky, bright blue with clouds adorning it delicately.

It's silent but peaceful. Your relaxed conscious is stirred from its slumber by a voice echoing around you.

“Why have you returned?”

It’s commanding, yet graceful. A cold compassion or a warm hostility?

“The deal has been finalized, and your return was never meant to be. No, that's incorrect.” A pensive hum is heard before the voice continues.

“You were meant to return at some point, but… not now, not yet. Teyvat seems to have sped up the process. While that doesn’t break the deal, I certainly won’t tolerate it amicably.”

A darker tone is used at the end of their words, before the gorgeous sky is overcome by dark red blocks. The serenity you feel is replaced by panic. You’re helpless to stop it from taking over everything.

Your vision begins to swarm with the blood-colored familiar blocks. As crimson takes over, the voice finishes their words.

“I won’t let you back so easily.” The last bits of your vision is covered and your lungs wheeze from the pain of the panic-

“Gasp-”

You sit up in the bed as sweat dots your skin, your lungs burn, and your fingers tremble from the grip you have on the covers. Eyes darting around the small room you’re in, your brain is unable to process everything as it spins.

The dream lingers in your mind. The red blocks poke at the edge of your eyes, the voice continues to echo through your mind. Leaning back, you rest your head on the headboard, the cool wood is a relief on your sweaty skin.

Releasing your bruising grip on the blankets, you rest your palms on your chest. You do your best to pay no mind to how your hands shake. Closing your eyes, a breath is inhaled and kept in.

One… That painting like sky, where else could you see something similar?

Two… The voice that spoke about Teyvat and you so casually, as if knowing everything.

Three… A status similar to an Archon, or mage? No, maybe even higher.

Four… Those red blocks have only been seen once before.

Five… You know who it is now.

The breath is exhaled, and your eyes flutter open at your revelation. Not like she was meaning to hide it. In fact, you could be certain that she wanted you to know that she was Celestia.

Sunlight begins to stream past the edges of the curtain, the wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you get off the bed. Yanking the curtains and opening the window, you’re greeted with the sun barely peeking out and dew still present on the greenery.

The thought of how early you’ve been forced awake already sours your mood further.

It’s not anytime near 9 am, you would be lucky if it was half past 7 am. Sighing, you flop back onto the bed and reach for that connection between you and Teyvat.

‘Did you see that dream?’ You ask as you stare out the window from your spot. Silence envelops the room as you wait patiently. The soft beating of wings comes from the window, a Geo Crystalfly glides into the room before resting on the bedding next to you.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. What deal did Celestia make that involves me? What part did you play in speeding up my migration to this world?’ Staring firmly at the Crystalfly you remain in your spot.

The amber wings pause and the rocky outline stick together, keeping the wings closed. The crystal exterior body offers no answer to your expectant eyes.

‘Why won’t you respond now? You’re not Zhongli who is obligated to abide by a contract. Am I not your god?’ A bubble of frustration rises at the continued silence. The Crystalfly lowers itself further against the sheets, as if bowing to you.

But you didn’t want a useless bow. You wanted answers.

‘This situation fundamentally involves me. You, or Celestia, or whoever else is in this mess brought me here. And now I’m stuck acting out this stupid Oracle role and I can’t even get a single answer as to why?’

More Geo Crystalflies enter the room, all of them perch on the bed and mimic the bowing gesture. As if that useless, passive action could subdue your ire.

‘I’ve spent every day in this damn world fighting for my life! I just barely recovered from the brink of death! And yet when I ask about this strange situation and suspicious behavior, I get no response? NOT EVEN AN INDIRECT ONE?!’

Maybe it was all the stress you’ve been under, or the pain that still lingers in your body. Some would even say it was all the emotional hurt you’ve felt at having all the characters you treasured dearly treat you like this. But you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your hand in anger, rapidly coming down on the quivering Crystalflies that just refused to move-

Clink!

Your hand is abruptly stopped by the sound of metal hitting the table. You tore your eyes away from the Crystalflies to land on a weasel sitting on the table, a single mora lays at it’s feet.

Recognizing it vaguely as the weasel thief or mora weasels that treasure hoarders train, you stare at it unimpressed. It comes closer to you as the Crystalflies gently flap away to form a path. Beady eyes stare up at you pleadingly as the backpack on it jingles with all the mora inside.

Fingers unbuckling the straps, you remove the backpack and peer into the bag. The brown bag must only hold about 500 Mora, but mora is still mora, and you empty it into your bag. Once finished, you turn back to the Crystalflies ready to intimidate and interrogate more. You only refrain when the scurrying of multiple feet catches your attention.

What has to be at least 10 weasel thieves climbing through the open window, all carrying bags stuffed to the brim. Some hold 750 Mora, while others hold 1,000. Each time you unclip the bag and pour the mora into your bag. And each time you turn towards the Crystalflies, more weasels come through.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” You groan aloud as you ignore the assortment of weasels in the room, choosing to instead sit on the bed. The Crystalflies return to the bowing position as you gaze down at them with an unreadable expression.

Carefully, you scoop up the first Crystalfly that arrived into your hands, guilt of what you had almost done wraps around your heart like a vice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to hit you. Although this whole gatekeeping vital information is annoying, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me. Besides, you may be keeping quiet due to a threat of some sort that the divulging of information could pose.’

You could hear the sounds of the weasels returning with more and more gifts. No doubt a way for Teyvat to show its gratitude to your ‘mercy’. With pursed lips, you ignore the actions and speak to Teyvat gently.

‘I’m afraid, Teyvat. Afraid that Celestia will take drastic measures to keep me from ‘returning’ or whatever. I’m 99% that Celestia is the one who disabled my teleporting feature and why I was only able to telepathically teleport those few times. For all I know, it could be a permanent disability. I don’t want to be limited more than I already am. If it goes too far, then I may even lose those things that proved me as an Oracle. And if that happens…’

Trailing off, you close your eyes and let out a bitter sigh. Setting the Geo Crystalfly back down, its amber wings fluttering in response, you turn to the weasels. Bags of mora, jewelry, wild fruit and small gemstones are beginning to fill up the table.

Opening the flap of your bag, you point at it and then at the table. “I want you guys to put all of that into my bag. If you have bags for me to open for you, bring them to me.”

A resounding trill is heard from them before the horde of Crystalflies flew out of the window. Deciding to leave the window open, you grab the letters and gifts from your previous visitors and bring them onto the bed.

The pitter-patter of the weasels feet and occasional flap of the Geo Crystalflies wing is heard in the background as you prepare for the day. Exiting the room and crossing the silent halls, you get to what has to be the bathroom and finish your morning routine.

The shower you take was the perfect opportunity to examine how your body is after all the healing. The bandages are removed and disposed of as you look into the foggy mirror.

Small scars in the shape of slits are seen on your body, Yelan’s arrows were no joke. The ice from Shenhe’s attacks left lighter toned patches on your calves too. Minor bruises and cuts were still healing up, but the small sting from the water didn’t bother you. If anything, it was the jagged and uneven scars along your spine that brought your mood down.

You were lucky that your broken spine didn’t cut into your spinal cord and paralyze you…

Changing into clean clothes and wrapping some new bandages, you do it all with a sense of apathy. Wouldn’t the thought of nearly being paralyzed have more of an effect? Yet when you thought of it, you could only imagine a sense of relief…

Looking back at the now clear mirror, you reach up for your mask. The battered mask is slipped off and placed on the counter. Familiar eyes stare back, and a grimace plays on your lips.

A purple bruise makes itself known on your temple, and poorly cared for skin muddles your features. The bridge of your nose, the eyes that crinkle at your attempt of a smile, even the way your full face comes together is so-

Foreign.

It’s not yours, not anymore.

It’s the Creators. The God that everyone worships as the one and only bearer of gold blood and highest form of authority.

Y/N does not have a face.

You have a title and a mask to be known by. A manner of speaking that leaves all to be swindled and led by without a true clue as to what goes on.

Licking your cracked lips, you adorn the mask once more and return to the room. Both the weasels and Crystalflies have already left, leaving it bare of activity. Closing the bag absentmindedly, you grab the medication bottles left on your bedside table.

Following the instructions Baizhu told you last night, you drink the medication as prescribed and gag at the taste. Setting all the medication aside, you sit down on the bed again and stare at the pile on the bed.

The letters and gifts from everyone that tried to visit are quickly sorted into two piles. You dig into the designated gift pile first.

A small box is opened to reveal a pair of armored fingerless gloves. It’s not super hard to guess your size, but they fit perfectly. The second and cuter box is opened with a delicious scent imprinting its first impression.

No one else could make food that smells this good except for Xiangling. Taking advantage of the early hours AKA no Baizhu, you wolf down the meal without properly admiring it. The spicy dish won’t do your still sensitive stomach any favors, but at least you enjoyed it.

A folded up paper is the next gift. Unraveling it shows a crude drawing of a brown haired girl with a pink flower, a tall man with glasses, a boy with a color palette you barely remember and a masked figure that had to be you.

Yiran, the little girl that you saved, had to be the one who drew this. That’s who must have spread the word and why Baizhu asked you to be lenient. Only her father, Kuan, could afford to bring her here.

The uneven letters spelling ‘My Heroes!’ at the bottom of the drawing made you smile a little. It was good that she was not only healed enough, but also happy enough to draw this for you.

The boy next to her in the drawing brought a sadder feeling. You didn’t remember him, but you did remember his mother. Her gaunt face and pale complexion came to mind as you pocketed the drawing. You weren’t sure if you could handle facing her.

The next gift evoked a stronger sense of despair as a patchy pouch was opened to show various knick-knacks. Pretty rocks, a tin with a string, shiny coins and worn out dice. You were familiar with the nature of these objects.

Most would see it as trash, but you knew it to be toys that were just as much, if not more fun, than the toys found in shops. Bored kids with nothing to do and nothing to use will find ways to entertain themselves, and being impoverished only fuels their creativity.

Trying to push away those nostalgic melancholic feelings, you open the last gift. A simple string necklace with a dark blue stone hanging from it laid in the box. The icy blue engraved symbol on it reminded you of Chongyun.

After disposing the trash, you put the drawing and the pouch into your bag. You reached for the letters next and opened the first one that you touched.

It was from Kuan, not unexpected, but you were interested in seeing what he had to say. What part he played in your identity getting spread around.

Most of it was profuse thanks for your completion of the commission and that the Adventurers Guild had the payment. Then it was how once Yiran had woken up, she had sneaked into the room when Baizhu was working and saw you.

Apparently she hadn’t been able to heal properly and was stuck on bed rest due to her grief. The kidnapping, death of her friend and finding out that you were going to be punished by the Adepti from the other kids created a mental block preventing her from healing.

But after seeing you and that you were still alive, her pain was eased enough that she was able to finally recover. You felt bad that she was sick all this time while you were being chased down, but she’s better now. And that’s all that mattered.

The next letter was actually from Kazuha. It detailed the sights that he had seen during his exploration of the Lisha area. It quickly turned into how panicked he felt when the wind pushed him to return to Liyue Harbor. The agonizing pain he felt over the rumors of a masked person being rushed into Bubu’s Pharmacy.

As no visitors were allowed, he went to Beidou and relayed the news. She had already finished her business and was preparing to leave. So he left you this letter and the armored gloves from Beidou.

Folding up the letter with the red and orange patterned leaf, you put it back into your bag. A knock on the door caught your attention before it opened slightly to show Qiqi.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She stands at the door frame until you nod, allowing her inside. She ambles inside with a cart of food and medicine. “Please take your medicine with the tea and eat the breakfast.”

She leaves just as quick as she came. As you weren’t starving after Xianglings meal, you took your time with breakfast. The medicine even with the tea tasted pretty bad.

Grabbing the next letter, a faint scent of food lingers on it, letting you know who sent it. Xiangling’s letter was small enough to be confused for a note, but it still easily conveyed her wreck of emotions. It ended with her mourning the fact that she couldn’t visit after dropping off the letter due to a rematch with a Monstadter that she scheduled long in advance.

A letter with a fancy wax seal was next. Opening it, you found the most horrendous handwriting you’ve ever seen. No matter how many times you rubbed your fingers on it, hoping that Tevyat could translate the mess of a letter, it just wouldn’t get any better.

The most you could make out was that Xingqui and Chongyun tried to visit but were denied. That the amulet was a gift from Chongyun that had a spell to protect you from evil spirits. And finally, that they're going to visit sometime today.

Didn’t Xingqui have some connection with Albedo? That would be an easy way to be innocently introduced into Mondstadt.

The next one thankfully did have eligible handwriting, it was a mix of bold letters and graceful strokes. Yun Jin and Xinyan both came to visit, but only Yun Jin would have time to come today.

The thought of having to entertain all these guests with Baizhu still waiting on the explanation of your Oracle status was not improving your desire to just vanish from Liyue. You forgot how tiring it was to constantly string up webs of lies that make up a cohesive story. It was like being constantly at work with the threat of danger on a brand-new level.

That letter is quickly dismissed and you grab the final letter. The paper is stained, and the edges are worn, opening it a strange set of words are found inside it.

“Hello, do you remember me?”

Frowning, you continue to read it as you search through your memories. The words make little sense until you come across a line that summons a wave of needless guilt.

“Those children enjoyed choosing those gifts for you. They remind me of my son.”

You don’t really want to finish this letter anymore.

Despite your internal feelings, you continue to skim through the letter. It touches on how they’re all adjusting to life back on the streets.

How the kids work together more but wail even louder in the night. The people that curse them out for coming back, the few items they had left swept away by the government as ‘trash’. The empty and hollow feeling she carries now that her son is gone.

She wished that she had given him up at birth like she was advised. That maybe at least then he would still be alive.

She mentions her son at least once every line into the letter.

It’s only when you see the curves of the ink spelling out his name that you scrunch up the paper. The paper crinkles as your teeth grit together, the sounds perfectly in tune with each other.

The anger is confusing. You don’t know the kid, so why should you feel guilty? Why should you feel guilty that she chose to share her anguish with you? Why does the thought of being even more aware of that boy make your heart race?

Slowly, you open the now wrinkled and slightly torn paper and skip straight to the bottom.

“I know you probably don’t care. You never promised me that you could save him or deliver him alive to me. But it’s easier to share these feelings with someone separated from this situation than the people who are already suffering with me.”

“I should take these feelings to the Creator and beg for some relief from my pain, yet I can’t even muster the strength to care for the tongue I ripped out in my mourning. How could I possibly keep this pain to me and the Creator alone? Don’t fret about helping me. I leave that all up to our God.”

That end soothes your racing heart and warped feelings, it’s clear to you now.

You’re beginning to feel the guilt from being their God but unable to actually help with anything. Celestia somehow limited you, none of your acolytes would ever believe you to be the Creator, and the powers you do have access to now are useless.

Was it your fault? Could you have been faster and given that boy some food to have saved him? Can you speak to some form of authority and have them help those victims?

Mindlessly, you begin to tear up the letter. It’s therapeutic to watch the scraps fall onto the tray. Each ink stained paper is ripped with shaking fingers, almost like you’re ripping apart the physical manifestation of your guilt.

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You’re not their God, you’re just the Oracle.

The truth doesn’t matter now. If this world can’t accept you wholeheartedly as the human you are, then why should you work to be seen as the God they cherish so much?

As if on cue, ruby droplets fall onto the worn shredded paper on the tray from the paper cuts you gained from your actions. The new gloves you got from Beidou are threatened to be stained as the red begins to trail down, but you quickly swipe it away.

Cursing yourself internally over the mess you made, you fumble with the drawer next to you for some bandages, not even hearing the repeated knocking on the door. It’s only when it’s opened and the pitter-patter of steps nearing you make you look toward it.

Cold, small fingers wrap around your own as magenta eyes stare up at you past the talisman hanging down from her hat.

“What happened?” Qiqi drawls, her signature zombie-like tone makes shame bubble up within you. Hanging your head, you don’t respond as you avoid her eyes.

You don’t feel normal.

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

The pharmacy is noisy as people frequently pass by the door to your room. Humming a catchy tune, you drum your fingers on the window sill as you watch outside the window. You imagine the wood of the sill must be cool, but you can’t tell under the bandages wrapped around your fingers.

Baizhu had visited you not too long ago to check on your leftover wounds and apply the topical medication. The cool moisture of the herbal medicine cooled down your body and prevented your apparent fever from worsening.

The room is clean aside from the bag you have left sitting on the bed with your belongings safely tucked away.

A small bag lies inside with the bloodied paper remains sitting inside it. You still aren’t sure if you were better off keeping it or throwing away. The series of knocks on your door bring your attention away from the scenery outside the window.

Staring for a second to be sure if you heard correctly, softer rapping follows up.

“Come in.” You call out before moving closer to the middle of the room. It swings open to show a girl with a shiny pink flower hairpin and a tall man wearing glasses. The smile on Kuan’s face is such a stark difference to the dark circles and sullen expression he wore when you first met him.

Yiran has bright eyes and a smile that could rival match the sun. Propufse thanks leave them both as Yiran keeps her fingers wrapped tight around her father’s. She’s still pale and clings to her father's hand when he moves to give you a handshake, but you gracefully ignore it.

“-Oh, and I’m so sorry that you’re being talked about by so many people. I really didn’t expect it to spread so far when I let her tell those other children that you saved that you were alive and recovering.” He looks kindly down at Yiran before gently urging her. “You too, Yiran, you have to apologize.”

Her eyes droop a little, but she still bows her head slightly as she apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted my friends to know you were okay.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the drawing.” You smile at them with ease and maintain small talk with them both a while longer before they leave. The door swings close, and your expression flattens at the same time.

Turning back to the window, you sit again and stare outside. The fluffy white clouds roll past in the blue sky as you allow your mind to go quiet. You just want a brief reprise from the stress you’ve been under all this time.

Time to just exist without having to worry about proving why you deserve to live in this world or your old one. Especially with Ningguang and your travel to the next region so close.

Maybe you took a nap or just dozed off, but the strum of a guitar brought your hazy mind back to awareness. Lifting your head from your arms crossed on the windowsill you see Xinyan taking steps two at a time as she runs from Millelith soldiers.

She quickly jumps off the top step onto the concrete so far below as she continues to play her guitar. It’s impressive, but you can’t help but be irked that soldiers had enough time to chase Xinyan but not help find kidnapped children.

That spiral of thoughts is interrupted as Yun Jin walks up the same set of stairs to Bubu Pharmacy as the soldiers disappear deeper into the city. Outwardly, she’s perfectly maintained, but the slight fidget of her fingers are like a warning sign.

The first and last time you spoke to her was the day of her ‘Lonely Chameleon’ performance that you vaguely recall had her promising to clear up the misunderstanding with Keqing.

What a bunch of good that did.

Yun Jin leaves your sight as she enters the building, and you move away from the window to crack the door open. Sitting on the foot of the bed, you patiently wait for Yun Jin to arrive. The biggest thing you relied on her about was her conversation with Keqing. So at least the situation with the Liyue Qixing can’t get any worse.

A polite knock sounds on the door before you call her in. Yun Jin steps in and closes the door behind her with a graceful smile that you return pleasantly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you Y/N. I’m unsure if you read the letter but Xinyan and I were incredibly worried. Are you feeling any better?”

It’s not small talk, she’s genuinely concerned, but you have to force the undeserved annoyance down. “I’m feeling way better, and I’m basically almost back to normal. I’ll be discharged today, so don’t worry. Thank you for your concern.” God, you haven’t felt this fake in a while.

Yun Jin walks closer before stopping in front of you, polite as she is, she's not going to ask for a seat so you pat the spot on the bed next to you. Small talk is needlessly exchanged for a few more minutes, but you’re beginning to feel antsy from being stuck in your worry over how Keqing reacted.

“What performance did you do the day after we met? I remember you mentioning how you would speak to Keqing on my behalf after that play.” There it goes again, her fingers twitch before she tightly clasp them together on her lap.

“The performance went well. Thankfully nothing like the Geovishap hatchling accident happened so it wasn’t as stressful. I-I did get to talk to the Yuheng, but I’m afraid she didn’t put much trust into my words.” Just as you thought.

Her eyes squint slightly as she stares down at her lap, the little tremble of her lips and crack in her manners surprises you. You didn’t think she would feel this guilty over it.

“The questions she asked me about how or even just proof of your oracle status were troublesome to say the least. I genuinely didn’t have an answer for most of them and the ones I did weren’t very in-depth. I apologize Y/N.”

Placing your hand on her shoulder, your head shakes softly to deny her words. “Don’t worry about it, Yun Jin. I have a chance to personally refute some of the suspicions on me today. Thank you for at least trying, I just have one question.”

A part of you feels bad that you’re unintentionally displaying your frustrations on Yun Jin but not enough to stop you from asking your question. Her shoulders tense under your hand, and her face freezes when she hears your question.

“Did all those questions make you question whether I’m actually the Creator’s oracle?”

You can only force your lips into a smile that threatens to dissolve into a scowl with every fiber of your self-control at her body's reaction.

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

It’s disappointing, you think to yourself, as Yun Jin basically flees the room. The excuses she gave you and topic changes she tried to pull were pathetic, but you weren’t surprised considering how you went straight for the throat.

Yun Jin was a beast when it came to stage affairs and directing in arts, but there’s little to nothing she has to counter your precise attack. In a way, it’s smart for her to run rather then stand her ground and try to answer.

Standing up, you stretch your body, enjoying the absence of pain. The sly grin you wear is so much more comfortable than the bitter frown you’ve worn these past few days. Yun Jin was simply a good warm up, a nice way to get back into the ‘Oracle’ headspace you’ve developed.

It didn’t matter if you were their God or the Oracle.

Money, shelter, food, and a sense of security were all you needed in life. That is what you’ve focused on to survive all these years, and Teyvat will be no different. If playing along to the cult’s belief of the Creator being the Almighty guarantees your survival, then you’ll happily do so and benefit from their obsession.

Smiling with renewed vigor, you relax on the bed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The hissing of a snake and the muffled words of a man could be heard steadily arriving.

If Yun Jin was a warm-up then Baizhu was your practice. Tonight you had to face Ningguang and that required all your skills to be in top shape lest you end up being killed by her hands.

The door swings open without warning as yellow snake eyes and fushia eyes meet your own eyes hidden beneath your mask. Smiling without a care, you call out to the contracted partners.

“Nice to see you again so soon Dr. Baizhu and it’s nice to meet you Changsheng. You’re here for the scar tissue sample and to ask some questions about my background, right? Come in! Just be sure to close the door behind you…”

Still alive, surprisingly… It's hard to believe that my last update on this story was Nov 14. If you want to hear my excuses as to why it takes long, it basically boils down to school, sick, holiday, and family lol. Plus money but when is it done a problem? But I came back and was working on it very slowly throughout all this time! The next update will take long too as finals are till the 22nd. And then the next semester on the 17(?) of Jan so yeah, little to no break. Thanks to my editor who got it done quite fast which is why the chapter is up now, Sunday night or rather early Monday. I hope it gives you all a good start to the week. To actually talk about about the story, I gotta say that it's longer then I thought. There's still a few leftover tasks to complete before Y/N can truly leave. As well as a hint to the overarching threat now that we got this Celestia hint. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the series! If your name is in italics that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason. If you are missing from the taglist and I didn't respond to your comment or ask to be added to the taglist, leave a comment here so I can check it. Taglist: Open as always!

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f0point5 · 13 days

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Omg pleaseeeeee do max and very very drunk Emilia. I feel like she is a very funny, dramatic, uncoordinated, extremely uncooperative drunk Lolol

Andddd we’re back. Because that quali deeply upset me and I needed a bit of comfort. It’s just Max being an absolute cutie really. I hope you like it!!!!

✨Set in the summer of 2022✨

You eyes are liquor, (your) body is gold

Max jolts awake to the sound of his phone buzzing. He’s purposely put it in the ashtray on his beside table so that it would make noise. You said when you’d headed out ride the night that you would get a cab home since Lando would be in no state to drive you, but Max wanted to keep his phone on just in case.

He looks down at the screen. 2:37 AM. It’s a text from Stan. Maybe you’re home already and he didn’t hear you come in.

As if by some metaphysical connection, his phone starts buzzing with a call. Lando’s face lights up the screen.

“Hello?” Max says when he picks up, surprises by how he still sounds asleep. No response comes, only the deafening beat of some pretty aggressive remix of some song he doesn’t like. “Lando?”

“Mate,” Lando shouts, though Max barely hear him. “Thank God. Come and get your girlfriend,”

“She’s not-“

“I don’t care,” the background music quiets down some, Max guesses Lando has made it to the bathroom. “She’s wasted and I’ve just met a Lithuanian gymnast,”

It must be the exhaustion from a full day of sim practice and three phone interviews, but Max’s brain cannot connect the dots in Lando’s sentence “What?” He asks through a yawn.

“Come and get your girlfriend so I can get laid. Now.”

******************************

Max is in the car in five minutes. In fifteen, he’s pulling into the nearest parking spot to the club he can find. His body is still heavy with sleep, not even the can of Red Bull he drank in the car has helped. He gets out and heads towards the door, craning his neck to look for either you or Lando among the hoards of smokers lingering outside.

You’re sitting on the edge of a potted plant outside the building. You’re wearing a gold mini dress covered in crystals, so you’re not exactly hard to notice. A thin sheen of sweat covers your exposed skin. Your hair is a mess. Illuminated by the light spilling from the building behind you, you’re glittering.

When you look up and see him, a tired smile spreads across your lips and you wave.

“Maxy!”

He waves back awkwardly. He can tell even from where he’s standing that you’re wasted by the way your eyes are unfocused and your head is lolling around on your neck. He’s glad he kept his phone on, he wouldn’t want you in a cab in this state.

Beside you is Lando, standing with a blonde bombshell of a woman so perfect looking she must have been designed by a very famous surgeon. Lando catches Max’s eye and winks just as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“Maxy,” this time it’s more of a sigh, a hand running through your hair as your shoulders slump. You look around with a frown. “What are you doing here? Were you here the whole time?” You wave your arm in the direction of the club but the effort seems to tire you.

“No,” Max says, smoothing your hair for you. “I was at home, and now I’m here to take you home,”

“I don’t want to go home,” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. “I want to go to the beach,”

Max frowns in confusion, looking over at Lando for answer, who just shrugs. Max shakes his head and pulls you to your feet, hooking an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Thank you,” Lando says, rolling his eyes at you. He holds out his fist to Max.

“You,” Max says as he bumps Lando’s fist with his own, “are welcome,”

“Goodnight, my dear,” Lando says, leaning over to give you a sideways hug and a kiss to cheek.

“Tip her well,” you say to Lando, patting his chest as his eyes bulge.

Max coughs to hide his laugh. “Come on, let’s go before you mess something else up,” he says, bracketing you to his side as he begins to steer you towards the car.

“What did I mess up?” You ask, words slurring as you teeter on your heels, legs crossing with every step. “Did I mess up your evening?”

“No,” Max says, squeezing your waist. His night wasn’t ruined, just his sleep schedule.

“Were you like,” you lean closer to him, your voice dropping to a whisper, “masturbating?”

Max chokes on air. “No!” He rasps out, struggling to keep walking. He almost lets go of you out of sheer awkwardness before he remembers you likely need him to remain upright, especially if you’re talking like this.

“Just asking,” you say, and Max has to imagine your eye roll because he absolutely cannot look at you right now. “That’s what I do when you’re not home,”

Add this to the long list of things I did not want to know, Max thinks to himself. He thinks he might never be able to keep sane while out of the house now.

“Your showerhead has this amazing setting-“

Max is almost glad when you trip while stepping off the pavement as he leads you to the passenger side of the car because it makes you stop talking. He knows you prefer the showerhead in his en-suite, he’d been planning to get your bathroom redone so you could have the same one. Oh God. How would it look if he does that now after you’ve said that? How would it look if he doesn’t?

He resolves to never think about that comment ever again.

“Up you go,” he says, guiding you up into the car, one hand on your head in case you don’t duck. Your body flops into the seat and Max tucks your legs in for you. He finds himself a little annoyed with Lando for letting you get in this state.

He peels out of the parking and down the street, yawning as he drives. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you sink down in the seat and turn on the seat heater.

There’s a surprising amount of traffic on the road. But summer in the Petri dish that is Monaco is always too busy.

“Are we going to the beach?” You asks, sliding up to look out of the window.

“No,” Max scoffs at the idea.

“But I said I wanted to go to the beach,” you drawl, a pensive look on your face.

“It’s night time,” Max explains.

“Um,” you narrow your eyes at him like you’re doubting something. “Since when do you not do what I want?”

Max isn’t sure what to say to that. Sure, he can’t remember the last time he said no to something you wanted but that was circumstantial. He wanted you to be happy, and god knows he owed you for all the space he took up in the world. But that didn’t make him a pushover. No, it just made him a good friend.

“I don’t always-“ He starts, but then your hands pull one of his off the steering wheel, and he watches as you rest it in your lap.

“Whoa. Your wrist is big,” you say wondrously, trying to touch your thumb to your middle finger around Max’s wrist.

When you can’t, you trace the veins the slightly swollen veins in his arm, your fingernails grazing his skin. It tickles, and Max fights the urge to move, even when you bend his fingers back with yours to opens his palm. He keeps glancing over at you, wondering what you see. You’re looking at his hand like there are words written on his skin.

“I need my hand,” he says after a while, only because there’s a vague thought in his head that if there were something written on him, it’s not something he’d want you to read.

“Nope.” You say simply, slotting your fingers into his and turning to look out the window.

My God, this woman.

He drives the rest of the way with one hand, using your linked fingers to turn on the indicator at every turn.

By the time he parks up in the underground garage, you’re half asleep, blinking awake only when Max turns off the car. He gets out and goes round to your side before you’ve even moved.

“Are we home already?” You rub your eyes, adjusting to the harsh lighting.

“Yeah,” Max says as you slide out of the car. One of your ankles bends in your heel and stumble into Max. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m good. I’m-“ you try to stand straight and immediately wince. “Ow,”

Max rolls his eyes and crouches down. “Sit down.” He instructs, and for once you just do what he says, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the car floor while Max busies himself with sliding your heels off your feet. He hears you mumbling about a headache but he doesn’t respond.

One thing at a time, please.

“Better?” He asks you, and you nod. That is, until you try to stand again.

“Ow,”

Watching you hop on one foot, Max lets out a loud sigh. It’s only when he sees tears pooling in your eyes that all his irritation evaporates.

“Come here,” he sighs, and when you hobble into him, he grips your waist and lifts, chuckling at your startled squeak. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,”

You wrap your legs around his waist, and he struggles to find an appropriate place to hold you without touching you. He settles for placing his arm all the way underneath you in a way that is extremely painful for him but decidedly the least inappropriate.

Not that it seems like you would care. You’re mumbling nonsense into his neck, swinging your shoes so that the heels poke into his back, blissfully unaware as Max carries you into the lift, straining to push the button for the penthouse.

You lift your head from Max’s neck mid sentence, just as the lift starts to move. “…but I just hate cheeseboards and so it would always be doomed,” you babble, leaning back a little so you can look Max in the eye. “You know?”

Max doesn’t know. He has no idea. He’s missed the whole story that’s got you to talking about cheese and even if he had heard, he can’t really concentrate with you wrapped around him like a koala.

“Uh-“ he stammers, forcing himself to maintain eye contact while he tries to think of something to say. You stare at him blankly, “I don’t-“

“Your eyes are so…” you trail off, head tilting as you stare. Max watches your lips part, waiting for something, anything. “Blue,”

He husks out a laugh, and you just keep staring at him, unaware of what you’ve said.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath. “It’s a weird feeling,” you say wistfully. “Is this what it feels like in the car? Like you’re flying?”

Before Max can ask what you mean, he feels you curl in on him, you arms gripping him tighter, and the question dies on his lips.

A few seconds later the lift opens into your apartment, and Max gently eases you to the floor.

“You’re on your own now,” he says, but you’re already stumbling into the hallway, tiptoeing past his trainers and padel bag as Jimmy appears to greet you.

“Kitty!” You squeal, heading towards him. As if he can sense your altered state, the car turns around and hightails it towards Max’s bedroom. You turn to Max with a pout. “Ew. Why does he hate me?”

“He doesn’t-“

“I’m hungry,”

Of course you are.

“I don’t think anything is open right now,”

“But I’m starving. Look, you can see my bones,” you whine, and before Max can even process your words you pull your dress straight over your head.

“Oh, fuck-“

Max slaps his hand over his eyes so fast he hurts his nose. He turns around for good measure, and even that doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t even feel like he should be in the room.

“Sweater,” is all he manages to say as he shrugs out of his zip up hoodie. He holds it in your direction, one hand back over his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Sweater,” Max repeats, violently shaking the hoodie in your direction. “Sweatshirt. Please put on the sweatshirt,”

“I’m wearing pasties, you pervert,” you say through a laugh, but Max still doesn’t uncover his eyes because he’s not sure that nipples would be the entirety of the problem.

Eventually he feels you tugging on the shirt and he lets out a sigh of relief when he hears you zip it up. When he opens his eyes and turns around, you’re smiling at him in a way that is so patronising he wants to crawl into a hole.

“I’m still hungry,” you huff out, crossing your arms.

Sometimes Max remembers why he used to dislike you.

He sighs again. “Sit over there,” he says, nodding to the couch. “I’ll heat something up,”

You flash him a toothy grin and now he really remembers why he used to dislike you.

He watches you flop down on the couch and turn on the tv, flipping through channels while takes a container of mushroom tagliatelle out of the fridge and sticking it in the microwave for you. You make weird sounds of displeasure - something akin to a depressed goat - at everything that comes on tv, and Max fights the urge to comment. He picks up your dress while he waits for the food to hear, so that the cats don’t get to it, and leaves it folded on the hall table.

He perversely relishes the moments where he gets to be the grown up out of the two of you.

Eventually the microwave beeps and he put the pasta in a bowl before joining you in the living room. You look up at him from under the hood of his sweatshirt, a smile splitting your face.

“I love you,” you say as you take the bowl, and Max smiles. Maybe your drunk personality isn’t so bad.

“I love you, too,”

You giggle. “I was talking to the pasta,” you tell him, giggling again at the look on his face.

Max settles onto the couch beside you, the exhaustion finally taking over his body. He doubts he’ll make it to bed tonight. He can already feel his eyelids getting heavy.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” it’s a whisper into the nonexistent space between you, and Max just makes a sound of acknowledgement through the haze of fatigue. “That was for you, not the pasta,”

“Thank you for clarifying,” he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, though he doesn’t remember closing them.

“And I do love you. Like…like coming up in the lift,” your voice seems further away now, and he can’t tell whether the gentle lilt is because he’s tired, or you are. He can’t understand what you mean, and once again he wants to ask, but his lips don’t move. Maybe he doesn’t need to know.

All he knows is that he can feel the heat of your skin next to his. You’re home. You’re safe. He can rest now.

#max verstappen x reader

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killersandqueens · 10 months

Text

When the Percy Jackson movies first came out, I complained about Annabeth’s casting, mainly for the lack of blonde hair- it was my main point of contention, and if you asked me what was wrong with the movie I would have pointed to her hair color first.

I am now thrilled for the tv show’s casting of Annabeth, and I couldn’t care less that she doesn’t have blonde hair. Why the change of heart?

Because I was 12 when the movie first came out. I didn’t have the vocabulary to articulate why the movies disappointed me, and I was too stupid to connect the dots myself.

I didn’t know why it was important to me that the characters actually look like pre teens and not like they were in their mid 20s.

I didn’t realize just how many plot points and characters didn’t make it to the movie from the book.

I didn’t know how to articulate that it was obvious that the movie didn’t care about the books- the only thing my tiny, little, preteen brain could put together was that they couldn’t even get the hair accurate.

If the movies had made Annabeth’s hair blonde from the beginning, it still would have sucked.

Just based on what Rick has said, the tv series will not be making the same mistakes.

So, you can either stop complaining about the lack of blonde hair, or be honest that you don’t want Annabeth to be black.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #grover underwood

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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

Note

*pops into your asks*

How would Nikolai, Gaz, and Price react to their darling being older than them (being in their 40s?).

— 🎂 (cake anon)

*leaves your asks with specs of flowers*

— Yandere Nikolai, Gaz, and Price with an older darling

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about reader being older, and slightly NSFW.

A/N: I apologize this is short, I'm having bad migraines. Enjoy :)

Nikolai:

Doesn’t see the issue with it; instead, he actively loves it. He definitely has a thing for aged-up people, mostly older than him, and that comes with a prize ticket of you.

Finds your wrinkles and aging hair gorgeous. Comments on your different clothing style, and tries to make you understand that you are pretty, despite the obvious age-gap.

Undoubtedly a pervert at times, but isn’t that the Nikolai you know? Sometimes looks at you, and you can almost tell what he’s thinking of. His brain is quite the wreck. But, he often challenges you to weird

Isn’t afraid to swoop you off your feet in public, laughing at your surprised state. One of his enjoyable things to do to catch you off guard.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

Kyle, being the youngest, is a bit embarrassed. Not at you, but at what you’d think of him; maybe finding him odd, or slightly juvenile because of his age. But regardless, he doesn’t have an issue.

He’s used to hanging out with older people, the team and Laswell, so he doesn’t see why you or anyone should matter. He feels wonderful with you, so it’s considerably natural to him.

However, Kyle loves to tease you. Being incredibly smug when he pulls your buttons, whispering in your ear on how ‘you could be my parent’, and soon enough, you see heart-pupils forming in his eyes. His hands grasping at your hips, asking for something more.

Honestly, he forgets your age and whenever you mention something nostalgic, his eyebrows squint, before connecting the dots as his mouth gaps like a fish; understanding that you and him have an ‘age-gap’

Captain “Price” John:

Doesn’t give a damn that you’re older than him, John doesn’t even blink at it unless someone asks. You’re his spouse, his darling, nothing more, nothing less.

Reminds you how breathtaking you are on a daily basis, and that age doesn’t associate with how you look. Enjoy looking at you, especially from afar, and chuckles at himself when you’ve caught him.

Adores the nights where the two of you can have really deep, and intimidate talks. Enjoys them completely and never wants to stop talking to you.

Doesn’t understand when people see a difference or have an issue with the age-gap. You’re still his, right? That’s all he matters.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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sooniebby · 11 months

Text

ఌ 𝐂𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐎𝐘

Yandere! Camboy x perverted! GN Reader

Warnings › reader is only mentioned to have a cock (AMAB). No pronouns/gendered terms (i.e baby girl or baby boy) are used this time.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

🐰𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚! 𝘾𝙖𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙮 who is a star student at your university. He’s universally loved by many—teachers, staff, students, you name it! But no one really knows him—but they heavily thirst after him. You included.

🐰𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚! 𝘾𝙖𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙮 who at first doesn’t even look your way. He’s a year older, too focused on himself most of the time. But that’s fine with you, you love watching his ass when he walks away.

🐰𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚! 𝘾𝙖𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙮 who finally notices you when he catches you staring at him at the library. His perfect Cupid bow shaped lips turned up into a snarl of disgust but you were too focused on how cute he looked in glasses to really tell.

🐰𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚! 𝘾𝙖𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙮 who’s voice sounds a bit familiar to you. But you could never figure out why. Not until your favorite cam boy came back from his month break. It didn’t take you long to connect the dots when he started speaking on why he had to take an hiatus… he started uni last month.

ꕤ

Despite his white rabbit mask that covers half of his face, you recognize those lips. The Cupid bow lips that you’d stared at for a full on month now. A fuller bottom lip with a smaller top lip. His voice was certainly that of your sunbae, that’s for sure.

Fuck, how could you luck out like this? You’ve been watching your sunbae fuck himself with dildos and vibrators for awhile now.. but now that you know who he is, why shouldn’t you try to get with the real deal?

The next time you came across him, you quickly pulled him aside into an empty classroom. He looked so perfect right now. Head tilted in confusion with his lips furrowed into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at your fidgeting.

“Sunbae, are you a cam boy?” You held up your phone, showing the website of his page.

You kept your distance—he was taller than you. He could very easily just hurt you. I’m hindsight, this was a bad idea and you were just now realizing that when your brain took over for your dick.

But much to your surprise, he laughed.

“My little pervert finally found out?” He grabbed your phone and began to scroll around, humming to himself. “Which stream was your favorite?”

“Huh? Oh, I like all of them but I really like you in uniforms..”

He hummed in acknowledgment and gave you your phone back, a smile on his lips. “You know you’re lucky you’re cute, yea? If you were anyone else I would’ve killed them.” He laughed.

But it didn’t feel like he was joking. The deep feeling of panic began to rise up in you again. Okay, maybe you should leave now.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone, Sunbae… I was just curious..”

“I know you won’t. Now that you’re finally mine.”

“Excuse me?”

A smile appeared on his lips as he inched closer towards you. You pushed up against the door behind you—hoping he’d keep his promise on not hurting you. And he did. Because he kissed you.

The kiss was short but sweet as he pulled away with both hands on either side of you, effectively changing you in.

“Since you know my secret… you’re mines now, okay? I’ll treat you well, baby~” he whispered in your ear. Your brain desperately tried to send signals that you were danger but your cock was twitching at the prospect of dating a man you’ve seen deepthroat dildos on streams.

Damn, can he do that to you?

“If you try to date anyone or have sex with anyone but me, I’ll kill them. And then I’ll punish you.” He smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away.

“Understand?”

“Yes…” You were confused on why you agreed so easily to his demands. Is it because he was pretty?

Yeah, it was. But who could say no to a man with beautiful lips like that?

“Do you have classes soon?”

“In an hour.”

“Good,” he squatted down right in front of you, his hand reaching over to your sweats and pulling it down to release your cock. You cried out in shock but waited to see what he would do. Hey, you haven’t had anyone suck your cock before—why would you turn him down?

“Wanna see how I suck real cock?”

Yeah, you certainly did.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

My first dive into yandere OCs and headcanons.. yo, headcanons are so hard, I hope it was decent enough lol I wanted to try writing a perverted reader who’s kinda creepy but the character likes it.

He’s also my first ever switch character!! Time to test my skills with a top male reader (reader will also bottom too). I did it GN here cuz there isn’t much gendered terms here so why? Next time I’ll probably be more specific to male/masc readers tho, I’ll see!

You’ll learn his name later, for his actual post! He’ll also get full on yandere in future posts, he’s kinda a slow burn. Coming soon! Feedback on him is greatly appreciated! Tell me anything you love about him or anything you think would be cool to add for him!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo

(Special shout-out to @kaeyasslxt who helped me create him!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼)

#bottom male reader #x male reader #male reader #oc x reader #original character #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x male reader #yandere x you #top male reader #male yandere x reader #yandere nsft #yandere scenarios #gender neutral reader

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gogomatthew · 8 months

Text

You’re mine

KINKTOBER DAY 2: Mutual masturbation

PAIRING: SPENCER REID X READER

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST HERE🎃💗

warnings: stalking • mutual masturbation • semi public sex • humiliation • phone sex • paranoia? • mentions of violence • let me know if I missed any •

A/N: sorry about the KTOBER delay.. this ones a little dark but ill make up with a sweet one next week! reminder english isnt my first language but feel to correct any grammar mistakes

summary: Spencer fears he is being stalked after receiving gifts from a secret admirer only to fall for her • MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+

“Hey whats wrong?” Morgan stops Spencer as he rushes into the BAU frantic with an orange envelope at hand “Gather everyone in the conference room please” he gets out of morgans grip and makes his way there. “Whats this about?” Hotch walks in confused on the whole situation, raising a questioning eyebrow at Spencer “Ive been on edge the past month and yesterday I received this..” he hands the envelope to Hotch. Inside theres a handwritten letter with the words “I know you were thinking about me” and multiple photographs of Spencer jacking off in his room.

Truthfully he didn’t want to show anyone but this was getting out of hand. In the photograph his room was illuminated by warm toned lamp, his mouth hung open and anyone with half a brain could assume he was letting out sounds of pleasure, his head was thrown back and his eyes were shut tightly, while his hand wrapped around his leaking dick as he lazily sat on his desk chair with his trousers hanging around his ankles. Hotch’s eyes go wide for a second as he quickly puts the pictures away only making his subordinates blush grow a burning pink. The team share a few glances and connect the dots in an instant. “Morgan you have experience in obsession crimes.. what do you think this is?” Hotch asks after analyzing the letter he spoke up “Are these the only “gifts” you’ve gotten? any other notes we should know about?” morgan glances up at him making sure to put emphasis on the word “gifts”

“I-I mean theres always a lingering feeling im being watched and I got a bouquet of flowers last monday along with a letter every other day from a “secret admirer” but I didn’t think much of it.. I just assumed some neighborhood boy was playing a prank on me..” he says running his fingers through his silky brunette hair, clearly stressed out “looks like you’ve got a groupie” spencer looks back down to morgan “HUH?” morgan hands the letter back to spencer “The writing is clearly written by a female, its dainty and not aggressive.. almost as if to show her love and devotion to you instead of threatening you. That isnt to say she wont get violent later on.. it may trigger her to see you with another woman around her age maybe something set her off and decided to finally make her move.” hotch lets out a breath “Morgan, Reid, you stay here and find a motive, Prentiss and I will go to the scene and try to get more geographical information on how they even managed to take these photos.. wheels up in 30” and with that everyone’s getting to work.

They made a geographic profile, retraced steps, came up with a profile and even a plan on how to catch the unsub. “We think our unsub is a female in her mid 20s, if you were to cross her path shed blend right in, shes not very confident or careful but she is smart, if you bumped into her she’d apologize even if it wasnt her fault, she has an obsessive personality though she probably doesn’t even realize it odds are if she were to go through a psychotic break she would only go after Spencer or people close to him so we don’t have to worry about civilian safety” after notifying the local PD they develop a plan.. Emily was going to pretend to be Spencers girlfriend, holding hands on the subway, walking him home, spending time in his apartment ect, to get a rise out of the unsub, it was a long shot that youd even buy it if youve been stalking spencer but it was worth a try “you sure you got this?” she looks up at Hotch as he adjust her mic pack and silently nods as Spencer copies her movement.

That afternoon he and Emily walk out of the subway station hand in hand making their way to his apartment, god Spencer wasn’t lying.. Emily could feel eyes on her but couldn’t pin point where they came from but they managed to make goosebumps arise from her. That night there was no love letter at his door. This was either the start of a psychotic break or you backing down. Morgan was stationed at the location they assumed the photographs were taken, assuming you’d come back. Emily spent the night at spencers place and left during the early hours of the morning to make it all the more convincing. After she left Spencer did his morning routine like usual, a shower, setting the coffee pot, changing, grabbing his satchel and heading out but he was stopped by a piece of paper that was stuck between the front door and the frame, falling onto the ground. The note was different, it seemed messy and rushed. It read “Im still here” a shiver ran down his spine. His gut told him to just get on the subway and go to work and develop his highly intelligent team but his brain told him to take matters into his own hands. He stormed out of his building and made his way onto the sidewalk hoping to be able catch you before you got too far. He had the profile now all he needed to do was find you and he knew just how to do that. He stormed into the subway station proceeding to walk a little faster than usual. He felt eyes on him and immediately he turned around and met your eyes by sheer luck. He kept his eyes on you and you stayed frozen in place looking away from his gaze but not moving an inch.. could it be you? He knew morgan always trusted his gut and maybe it was time he did the same. As he started approaching you your eyes went wide and you sped walked away. You fit the profile, the only thing they didn’t mention was how attractive you were. He caught up to you quickly having the advantage of long legs “hey” he puts a hand on your shoulder giving you goosebumps “im meeting my girlfriend for coffee but I dont know which track to take.. do you think you could help me?” he give you a nice smile that you return but he notices your demeanor going cold at the word girlfriend.

“yeah totally! where are you meeting?” your fists are clenched at your sides, this was almost too easy “Virginia coffee house” he says simply “you’re gonna want to take the 53, it should get here in about 10 minutes.. that’s actually where im heading too” he smiles a little wider “I don’t suppose you mind waiting with me then?” you nod “not at all!…” you fidget with your fingers “actually im gonna go to the restroom” you turn to rush off with him hot on your heels, he wont forgive himself if he lets you get away.. he has to trust his gut when it’s screaming right at him he needs to know more. He follows you into the bathroom at the station which is thankfully empty and locks the door behind him “Spencer what are you doing?” you say and quickly realize your mistake as his expression falters “I never said my name was spencer..” your eyes widen as you start to back up into the sink “sorry I- my brains all scattered” you try to play it off with a laugh but hes not laughing. He starts to get closer and closer to you as you continue to step back “heres what I think and feel free to correct me if im wrong, but just know ill know if you’re lying, I study human behavior for living but of course you already knew that” your backed up completely into the sink and have nowhere to run as he continues to get closer until he finally towers over you face inches apart “I think you’re my little groupie.. I think you watched me get off and took pictures to touch yourself too.. I think you leave love letters at my door.. I think you’re jealous of my fake girlfriend and I think..” he whisper the next words right into your ear “you’re desperate for me” he hates to admit it but some animalistic part of him just wants to take you right there in the bathroom and make you scream his name to humiliate you just as you did to him. You’d proudfully admit that his accusations made your panties soaking wet, having to squeeze your thighs together for any friction.

Just then a loud knock at the door interrupts you both breaking away “whys the door locked?” you hear through the door “you’re right” you say before speeding off and disappearing into the crowd as soon as the lady at the door gets it open. Spencer rushes out ignoring the strange looks he gets but ultimately looses you. He lets out an exasperated sigh and with that hes on his way to work.

Coming back to an empty apartment was never fun but he couldn’t shake his head off with what happened just a few hours prior in that bathroom. He starts palming himself through his trousers and groans wishing it was you. He unbuttons his jeans and pull out his dick, stroking it as it fill the room with the wet sounds of his precum smearing all over his shaft “fuck” he sits at his desk and there he sees you. You’re on the balcony of the building across the street. The complex next to the one morgan was previously situated at the day prior. Camara leaning next to you, phone in one hand as your other hand starts to glide down your abdomen between your thighs successfully getting a whimper out of Spencer.. hes never been this exposed. He hears his phone ring and you mouth at him to answer it and he obeys. You let out breathy whines as you start to circle your clit matching the pace of the hand wrapped around his dick. His eyes are open staring straight at you, he dosent want to miss a single second of this. His own morality not even bothering him anymore, not when he feels this good and has this view. “Fuck” He stands up from his seat and walk closer to the window, he starts to glide his hand faster even teasing himself by running his finger through his slit “mmm” he knows you can hear him but he cant hold back his sounds god hes never felt this good under his own touch, he thinks it’s pathetic he has to imagine its your even though you’re only a few feet away. “faster” he demands. His ty is loosened but his shirt is still on and how you wish you could just see all of him, you insert 2 fingers into yourself struggling because theyre not long enough to give you as much pleasure as you need, you lean over the edge and hold on to the railing of the balcony giving spencer a better peek at your tits “you’re fucking c- crazy” he says with heavy pants inbetween every word “me? im not the one stroking my dick to my “stalker” god you hated that word but you heard him refer to you as that before, he lets out a deep growl “yeah well im not the stalker” the call is filled with whines and moans from both ends, you start nearing your climax “im gonna- hah-“ your words are cut off by your loud whimpers “aww cmon baby- you can write someone whos never even seen you heartfelt love letters but cant- ah finish- mm your own sentence” hes teasing but in reality hes in the same position as you “fuck- you” his open mouth turns into a smirk “bet youd like that” thats it, something in you snaps and your practically screaming and writhing in place as Spencer delivers his final pumps to his cock before he’s leaking cum onto his own chest with heavy whines as he tries to catch his breath with his eyes closed.

When he finally opens them to see you shock is evident in his face when you’re already gone and the line is left ringing. He buttons his pants and runs to his front door trying to catch you but instead his eyes land on another envelope. He opens it expecting it to be another love letter and pictures of him jacking it only to be met with photographs of YOU touching yourself, your mouth dropped open, hand on your pussy, only showing the bottom half of your face, the note attached reads “you have my phone number now.. id appreciate going on a date with you before you turn me in - your dearest Y/N” god this was going to be fun.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #dark fanfiction #criminal minds

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dira333 · 2 months

Text

The sky is everywhere - Hawks x reader

A/N: requested by @misfit-megumi - Prompts are: "the sky is everywhere" and "I'm tired of love songs"

Warning: heavy angst to somewhat fluff. I just let my brain take the wheel

“I′m so tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love…” You’re swaying a little as you sing, almost miss your mouth when you bring the bottle of wine back up to your lips.

To call the last few months “rough” would have been an understatement.

Something in you is begging you to go home, but that place doesn’t exist anymore.

Your formerly shared apartment feels more like a trap now. You don’t want to be in there, yet you just can’t move out.

“Hey,” your friend’s grip is soft, cautious. Like you’re one of those hurt animals that might lash out. She thought it would be a good idea to party, try and meet somebody new. But two months is not nearly enough time to forget about someone you loved so deeply.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“I’m fine,” you argue, but you both know that’s a lie. You haven’t been fine in weeks. Not since…

“Can we do some shots?” You ask, dreading the moment you have to leave this place and face reality yet again. If you get hammered enough… maybe it will buy you some time.

They say Grief comes in stages. If that’s true, you’re still stuck in denial.

There is no place on earth where you’re free of the memories.

Even when all the blinds are closed and you’re lying in the dark, you can clearly see the twinkle in Keigo’s eyes. Hear him whistling low at your sight. Feel the caress of a single feather.

He left a few months ago.

It wasn’t the first time he had to leave for an undercover mission. Not the first time he didn’t give you any information.

“You’re too clever for your own good,” he said often, kissing your temple when you connected the dots yourself, came up to him with what you thought he was going to get into. You had been right every time.

So you knew to be scared when he packed his things this time.

Because he was going to infiltrate the League of Villains.

“You should stop doing that,” he said, but there was no twinkle in his eye when he said it. He sounded tired, resigned to his fate. It should have been a warning.

You should have locked yourself in the spare bedroom, put your hands over your ears, and pretended you didn’t hear him.

But you didn’t. And he broke up with you.

Two days later he went officially missing. Some think he’s dead.

You don’t know what would hurt less.

The light is hurting your eyes.

You close them and sink back into the pillows, no more willing to face the day than you have been yesterday.

The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol. If only you could fall back asleep but now that you’re awake, all the noises seem to increase by a tenfold. The clock is ticking so loud it feels like your head is vibrating. Someone in the apartment above you is showering and the water trickling down sounds like rainfall. Then there’s the smacking sound of your fridge door being closed-

Your eyes fly open but you blink against the pain as you try and regain your memories.

Did you bring someone home last night?

You wouldn’t, right?!

But there’s someone in your apartment, footsteps coming closer and closer.

You grab your pillow and push yourself up, the room spinning. The blinds are only partially open, leaving the doorway in the shadow. But what you can see is black and glistening, like leather-

Your scream cuts through the silence like the pillow soaring through the air.

Your invader catches it with ease. When he lowers it and steps into the room, your breath catches in your throat.

You know those eyes.

“Keigo?” You ask, your voice scratchy. He’s wearing a black mask that covers almost all of his face. Bandages cover the rest of his head, but some of his hair is still peaking through, confirming your guess.

He nods slowly and drops the pillow to the floor. In his right hand is a bottle of water.

You want to ask, yell, beg him to stay… but all you can do is lean forward and empty your stomach.

It’s unnatural for Keigo to be this quiet.

It’s unnatural for you to be the same.

But if this is a fever dream, you don’t want to end it with your words.

Wordlessly he cleans the floor. Wordlessly he urges you to drink water and take the painkiller he found in the kitchen cabinet.

Wordlessly he slips into bed with you and holds you, and you pretend that everything is okay.

It hurts even more when you wake up a second time and he’s gone yet again.

When he returns, almost a week later, after a press conference that shook the world, he’s no longer wearing the mask. His face is scared and the room painfully empty of his wings, his presence. He seems to have shrunken in on himself.

“You’re too clever for your own good,” he tells you, feet planted on your doorstep. You step aside to let him in, hoping that he will. He does.

Neither of you talks about the topic at hand. To someone who doesn’t know your history, it might look like nothing ever happened. You cook dinner together, your hand raised to stop him from stealing the noodles out of the pot, plucking the chicken out of the pan before you can serve the food. You sink into him whenever he’s close, but neither of you addresses the question that needs to be asked.

At least until the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean and your body heavily sinks into the mattress, your heart longing for him to stay near.

“Would you take me back?” He whispers, quiet enough that you might have missed it, had you not been waiting for it.

“Would you?”

He shakes his head. You can feel the motion where his chin dishevels your hair.

But isn’t that why the two of you have always been so great together? Because you do what he wouldn’t and he does what you never will?

Your hands find his arms, take hold of him in the only way you can.

“If you ever break up with me again, I will make you regret it,” you say, though it’s an empty threat. He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amused.

“You already did.”

You’ve always been too clever for your own good.

Does it soothe the hurt to know he only broke up with you to keep you safe? No.

But it makes it easier to take him back.

One day, hopefully, he will realize that you’re safest when you’re with him.

But until then, you will try your best to hold him close.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #hawks mha #hawks angst #hawks fluff #mha angst #mha fluff

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obsessedelusional · 1 year

Text

Bella’s Streamer Girlfriend

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader

summary ✦ Bella is exhausted from their constant travel for work. As her partner who just so happens to be a famous streamer you suggest they move in with you. What happens when Bella accidentally goes live showing you streaming? this is a request

word count ✦ 2,202

authors note ✦ hope y’all enjoy appreciate everyone one of you ilyyyyyy

masterlist

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

“Why don’t you just move in with me?” You suggest, a thought you’ve had for several months now just now finally making it out into existence. Bella had been fretting over how tiring all the travel has become.

“What?” Bella asks.

“Well we’ve been dating for two years and you’re always here anyways so..” Your voice trails off thinking you’ve said too much.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I mean there’s not much room but we’ll figure it out. We can move my stream set up into the guest bedroom.” Bella doesn’t respond fast enough causing you to panic. Before you can ramble some more or even worse take it back she responds.

“Yes.” Bella says nodding her head.

“Yes? Like yes you want move in with me?”

“Yes.” She grins softly realizing what she’s just agreed to. Bella closes the distance between you two throwing her arms around your waist. Hugging you, slightly elevating you from the ground emitting laughter from you.

“How wicked? I get to live in LA with my beatuiful streamer girlfriend?”

—

Bella was the first to make a move two years ago. After finding out they got the role of Ellie in The Last of Us tv adaptation they poorly attempted to play the game. After failing the first part several times they opened YouTube. Your video of you playing the original game long ago is the first one.

Their attraction to you is immediate. Binging your videos lead to a follow on instagram. No idea who Bella Ramsey was but you followed back anyways seeing they were verified. Finding them attractive and your beliefs aligning with theirs so proudly displayed on their profile. Bella is silent with their crush on you until one fateful day.

An interview after Bella’s announced to play Ellie:

“Fans are so excited to see this iconic game come to life on television. Did you know anything about the game before your audition?”

“I knew of it. Like I had heard about it before but I never played it myself.” Bella responds to the interviewer.

“Have you played it yet?”

“No. I tried to but I’m not really a gamer. I played the first twenty minutes before giving up and watching gameplay.”

“Gameplay?”

“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N. Shout out to her cause I watched her play the game. She’s a twitch streamer. She was so good at the game and she’s really…” Bella’s stops talking mid sentence as they realize they’ve said too much.

—

It’s an late night as you live stream. Just chatting with viewers before you hop into the lobby when your feed gets flooded with comments about Bella talking about you.

“Bella Ramsey? Sounds familiar. What did they say?” Your busy scrolling through chat and racking your brain trying to connect the dots.

“It’s Ellie Williams in the tv adaptation.” You say out loud reading a chat. One of your mods sends you the link so you can react to it live on your stream.

“Should I watch it? Everyone’s saying yes. Okay I will react to it.” The link opens up to a YouTube video of a zoom meeting type interview. As the video plays you recognize the short haired brunette as the random famous person that followed you on instagram months ago.

“There’s no way. I didn’t know they were playing Ellie.” You smile watching your screen not paying much attention to chat. It gets to the point where Bella mentions watching gameplay instead of actually playing the game.

“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N.” Bella says in the video.

“That’s me!” You shout, pausing the video. Pressing play when you’re done freaking out.

“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N. Shout out to her cause I watched her play the game. She’s a twitch streamer. She was so good at the game and she’s really…” Bella doesn’t finish their sentence, eyes go wide and their the one to quickly change the subject.

“And really what? What am I Bella?” You pause reading chat. People letting you know all the things you are.

“User2643556 says I’m beautiful, sexy, and amazing. Am I Bella?” You tease, your tone innocent yet flirty.

“Oh what about this Justin says I’m a stupid wanna be gamer. Plus a few other bad words I won’t be reading.” You laugh, watching as your mod kicks them.

“But seriously Bella! And what? What am I? I must know.”

The next day you wake and first thing you do is check your phone, a daily morning ritual. The first notification is from an instagram dm from a verified account, you have to rub the sleep out of your eyes just too make sure your reading it correctly.

Bella: I was gonna say cute but beautiful sexy and amazing works too xx

After your done freaking out you respond with a thank you and a winking emoji. To your surprise Bella continues to message you, you two communicate for a week over instagram dm before Bella gives you their number. The conversation usually flirty filled with getting to know each other. Empty promises to meet in the near future.

—

A handful of die hard The Last of Us fans who all had fairly large followings were invited to the premiere. You being one of them, which came to you as a surprise because you had played the game but there were far more bigger fans out there. You were excited for the opportunity nonetheless. A large part of you more excited at the chance to see Bella.

“We’re so glad you could make it.” The shows social media manager, Victoria who had initially invited you says.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Bella they were adamant on you being here.”

“Oh okay, will do.” You smile, ignoring the fact that if it wasn’t for Bella you wouldn’t be here. Anxiety growing at the thought that Bella wanted you here. How at any moment you’d finally meet her.

After the viewing of the the pilot you are sat with the rest of the influencers invited in the panel room. Cheers notify you that the stars of the show arrived, Bella and Pedro. Your watching Bella as people converse with them. They’re not paying much attention eyes are wondering around the room hopefully looking for you, you think. Smiling ear to ear as they make eye contact with you. Bella had wanted to greet you on the spot but they weren’t aloud to veer from the schedule.

The cast make their way to the stage. Craig and Neil are the first to speak. Thanking everyone for coming and supporting the whole project. Then the cast are asked questions. Too enamored with Bella you don’t touch your food, too nervous to eat. They often sneak a look towards you smiling when they catch your attention.

To your disappointment you don’t get a chance to see Bella. She’s rushed to her table where she eats with the main cast. Then when it’s over she’s guided to somewhere behind the scenes your not aloud. You wait longer than you should have before deciding to book an Uber to take you home.

Your stood outside the building waiting for your Uber, sulking in your own sadness. The night not going how you imagined at all.

“Uber for Y/N?” Your driver speaks breaking your thoughts.

“Yeah sorry.” You walk towards the car ready to just go home and crawl into bed. Before you can open the door your phone vibrates, it’s Bella.

“Where are you?” Bella says as soon as you pick up.

“I’m getting in a Uber right now.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s over. I’m going home.” You hear heavy footsteps, looking back you see Bella running towards you phone up to her ear.

“Then I’m coming with you.” Bella says into the phone only a few feet away from you.

“Are you inviting yourself over?” You laugh.

“Oh fuck I didn’t mean to come off like that I just didn’t want to-“ Bella hangs up on you, now talking to you instead.

“Can’t believe you’d hang up on me.” You cut them off, laughing at the fact that the two of you were conversing over phone while stood so close.

“I feel like a real dick head. I tried so hard to get away from tonight’s responsibilities but they wouldn’t let me. You have no idea how badly I wanted to get away from it all and be with you tonight. I want to make it up to you.” Your cute moment gets interrupted by the Uber driver telling you he’s going to leave if you don’t get in already. When you go to open the door Bella assumes the worst.

“You coming?” You ask, returning the smile to Bella’s face as she climbs in with you. The drive to your place is filled with apologies and sneaking glances at each other. Bella doesn’t leave your apartment till the next morning, up till 4 am just talking. Feelings grow and laughter is shared. Bella is the one to kiss you before they leave making plans to meet again.

—

Bella moving in has been great. It’s only been a week but waking up and going to sleep next to the person you love every night is better than you could of possibly imagined.

You stream five days a week, leaving the weekend for yourself and Bella now. Originally your set up is in your bedroom, using your bed as your backdrop. Moving into the guest bedroom has been great. Creating a whole new look for your stream and having a lot more space. The other half of the room filled with Bella’s miscellaneous boxes.

Bella has yet to get used to your work schedule. Normally when they visited you’d take a break from streaming or do it while they were off working. Now that you live together, you had to work. So often Bella would interrupt unknowingly. Apologizing quietly as they walked back out of the room. Your chat taking quick notice of your smile and lovingly stare as you told Bella it’s okay, wondering who it could possibly be.

—

“Can you hear me?” Bella asks turning on her instagram live.

“Uhh yes it is I see your comments now.” Bella gets comfortable, reading comments out loud. Shouting out people as they asked.

“Ok the whole reason for this live. I just wanted to give some life updates. First I uhh moved to California.” She admits reading chat for a moment before responding.

bellaramzeee13: I thought you hated la

ramseyfantlou: NO Bella’s gonna change ):

thelastofbella: the uk will misss you

“I promise I’m not going to change. Some things just happened and I decide it’s best for me to live out here. Ya know? Closer to opportunities and other things… anyway thought I’d come on here and unpack with everyone.” Bella stands up from where they’re sat thinking your out for the day with your friends. Heading into your steaming room, switching the camera to the back camera ready to show the giant pile of boxes.

“This is where all my stuff is,” Bella is going on not realizing your sat in your desk live as well.

“What’re you doing?” You ask startling her so her phone lands on your just long enough for people to realize it’s you. Bella’s quick to stuff her phone in her pocket live still going.

“I’m sorry I thought you were with your friends already.” Bella’s panic has your worried.

“It’s okay that’s not till later. I’ll be right back guys.” You say to your chat switching to your I’ll be right back screen. You follow Bella out of the room into the living room.

“I was on instagram live.”

“Did you show me?” You ask.

“I dunno.” Bella pulls their phone out it now on the front facing camera, you laugh seeing your reflection on insgram live.

“Bella it’s too late your still live.” Your laughing harder than before. Bella’s worried faced fills the live and your laughter in the background.

bellsram01: YOUR DATING HER???!!

sarabeez: NO WAY

elliewilliams22627: wait why do I kinda ship it

justbellaaaaa: bella I think I actually want your girlfriend more

“Should I get off?” Bella asks you.

“If you don’t want to. It’s okay.” Bella sets their phone down using some clutter on the kitchen counter to created a diy tripod.

“Guess it’s out,” Bella laughs. You move into frame, leaning closer to read more comments. Laughing at all the funny ones, reading them out loud. Answering a few questions about your relationship.

“Well I got to go attend to my steam I was so rudely interrupted.” You sigh dramatically.

“If y’all want more of me I’m on twitch right now.” You smile for the camera.

“Are you trying to steal my viewers?” Bella looks at you shocked.

“Absolutely yes babe.” You tease, before planting a small kiss on their cheek before leaving bella alone in the kitchen. Bella reads more chat as everyone freaks the fuck out.

“I guess you all know the real reason why I moved to the states.”

#bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey edit #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey #bella ramsey tlou #bella ramsey imagine

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stevebabey · 1 year

Note

hiii ruby !!! congrats on ur milestone i think ur so cool and funny and ofc so so deserving :D for ❤️‍🔥 can i request forehead against forehead from prompt list 5 bc i am a sucker for it <33 thank u ily !

ahhh!!! anna you are so lovely <3 thank u sm for picking this one it opened pandoras BOX in my brain and i think this is by far my absolute favourite i've written this whole damn celebration & its bcos its, of course, friends to lovers <3 - 1.7k+

The wish is far-fetched.

You knew that from the beginning and yet, like wishes were stackable, like wishing for something over and over would improve its odds of happening, you couldn’t help yourself. Every eyelash, every time the hands of the clock line up at 11.11, you wish desperately.

Eyes scrunched closed, you wish for Steve.

You have him, of course, just not quite as you want him.

It feels selfish, the hungry feeling that rises in your chest when you look at him too long, eyes drinking in every detail you adore. Long lashes, hazel eyes, lips so pink it wasn’t fair. You want him all to yourself. These are not the usual thoughts of a best friend.

Sometimes, the yearning seems to carve out every part of you til you feel hollow inside; because you’d offer it all out to him, every piece of yourself between your cupped hands, his if he only wanted it.

You want him to want it. To want you. Badly.

So, you wish. At this point, it feels more like a habit than anything — the clock hits eleven minutes past 11 and you send a little prayer out to the universe to give you this one thing. You don’t notice how Steve notices.

He can’t quite connect the dots in the beginning, can’t see the pattern that strings together all the things he’s noticed. How from time to time, you’ll close your eyes and squint just a bit— but then, quick as it happens, it’s gone. You’ll open your eyes, look over back at him, and continue on as if nothing has occurred.

Steve doesn’t pry, even though he really wants to — the first time you notice him watching you, he raises his brows, a silent what was that? with a hope you’ll clue him in. He wants in on all your secrets. But in an instant, he can see the embarrassment creep across your features, so he drops it, waving his hand, and resumes talking, eyes back on the road ahead of him.

After a month of subtlety catching the habit of yours that he's come to cherish, the sweet scrunch of your eyes and gentle clench of your fists at your side, Steve notices the clock.

You check the clock, most of the time, before your eyes flutter closed. It happens late in the morning and close to midnight. But then again also at random intervals, at times he’s not expecting. The frustrating pattern evades him even though he’s noticing. Noticing is, infuriatingly, not enough.

It takes another month for Steve to realise you’re wishing.

He’s enamored with the habit now — especially, now he knows you’re sending little hopes, blowing on eyelashes with the fervor of a little kid. The craving to know your secrets, to be trusted with your wishes, has grown ten-fold since he first noticed. Steve notices just about everything about you now.

It’s hard not to. What started as trying to comprehend your peculiar pattern, has become... something entirely different. Steve feels helpless to do anything but admire you now. His feelings for you have become startlingly fond, borderline sappy.

The sound of your laughter and how it threads gold into his days marvels him. The colour of your eyes in the morning light. How you curl up in his passenger seat like it’s the comfiest place you’ve ever known, like you could sit there all day with him. If he asked.

He’s pretty sure his heart strayed from best friend territory the moment he figured out the wishes. Maybe, he’s fooling himself and it’s always been this way.

It’s on his mind, even as the two of you sit at the back of the Hawk theatre, some garbage Sci-Fi film flickering on the screen. Normally, the back of the cinema was unofficially reserved for couples that wanted to make-out — Steve had pulled that move on a dozen dates. Picked a cheesy romance and the cozy darkness of the back of the theatre.

This is not the same, he knows. It’s not a cheesy romance film, you’re not quite at the back, and most importantly, this is not a date.

Steve really wishes it was.

“Hey,” Your whisper shakes him from his thoughts. Steve’s gaze moves from boring into the back of the chair in front of him to your concerned face. “Y’okay?”

You’ve turned towards him, shoulders hunched over like you might disturb other people in the cinema if you’re too big. It’s silly, there’s barely anyone else in here but you and Steve. A couple people a few rows forward.

Steve nods, throat dry. You don’t look convinced, eyes narrowing for a moment as if you’ll say something when your expression shifts. You focus on something below his eye.

“What?” Steve whispers, too aware of your fixed stare. His nerves creep up, feeling a bit flushed beneath your attention. Your hand comes up, reaching out to graze across his cheek and Steve forces himself to stay still. To not melt into the touch.

“S’just an eyelash.” You whisper, still focused. Thumb moving gently as you can, you sweep the eyelash beneath his eye off his cheek. It moves an inch but remains stubbornly on his skin. You huff silently, turn his way a little more, and lean in closer to try pinch it. It takes a moment as you try your best not to pinch Steve at the same time.

When you finally snag it between your fingertips, victory comes in the form of your pleased smile. It takes another moment to realise just how close you’ve gotten to Steve. Leaned over, his breath fans over your face and you can see the film reflected in his eyes, action sequences playing far, far away.

Faintly, you think that if you had your wish already, you could lean in a few inches further and steal a kiss. You think of the eyelash in your fingertips.

The thought knocks sense back into you, blinking hard, but just as you go to pull back Steve’s eyes flash down to your lips. He licks his own, then swallows, looks back up at you. A wretched thread of hopes keeps you from pulling back just yet — desperately praying you’re not reading into nothing.

Steve doesn’t pull back. His heart has hiked so far up his throat he’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all.

“What are you wishing for?” He croaks, too quiet. You hear it anyways.

Surprise shows on your face, lips parting and eyes widening just a moment. Steve wants you to give back the eyelash just so he can make his very own wish right now.

“How did you... know?” The last word is meek, only audible because Steve is so close. He wants to be closer. He moves an inch, recalling every single time he’s gotten the signals right in the past to keep him from losing his nerve. Tries not to think about what he might lose should he be wrong this time.

“You,” He huffs a little laugh, searching your eyes, trying to see if it’s the same hope he feels inside that he’s seeing in your eyes. “You close your eyes and wish on every 11.11. And— and eyelashes and dandelions too. You do this little squint, like you’re thinking real hard about what you want.”

Unable to help himself, Steve steals another glance at your lips as your tongue darts out to lick them nervously. His chest rises and falls a bit fast, nerves urging his pulse to run faster, faster. God, he’s nervous. Steve can’t remember ever being so nervous at the mere chance of just a kiss.

“So, what're you wishing for?” He asks again, in a whisper just for you two.

The film illuminates the side of your face, shadows dancing across the lines of your cheek. You’re beautiful, Steve thinks, achingly so. The silence twists his heart painfully. He doesn’t know you’re merely gathering your hopes to spit out the honest answer.

“You.”

You whisper the word quickly, knowing if you have a moment to think about it you’ll tuck it and all your selfish desires back away into your heart. But you ache for this moment — hunger devouring your insides with how much you want to kiss the boy before you. Enough that you’ll risk it.

It’s worth the risk.

The single word sets Steve off and he closes the distance between you in an instant, lips against yours. It’s gentle as he can manage while his heart works overtime pumping molten-hot affection into every part of his body. He feels giddy. He nearly forgets to memorise the curve of your lips, the warmth of this against his own, it feels so deliriously good to be kissing you. He thinks he’s been missing this his whole life.

You look a little dazed when Steve pulls back, lips with a sheen that catches the flashes of the cinema screen. You don’t speak, just blink and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, mind miles away. Your lack of a smile worries Steve; he feels like he could burst with how he wants to beam if this is what you want too.

He gathers his courage and presses forward again, til his forehead against yours. Tells you what he knows to be true, what you’ve been dying to hear. “You have me.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his and you give Steve a flood of relief, lips pulling into a smile. A small laugh of disbelief titters out of you, your smile transforming into a grin that betrays your utter happiness. This close, you let the want take over you and lean in to steal another kiss off his lips. He gives it to you sweetly and oh-so-willingly.

You stay this close, nose nuzzling against his, both your heads bowed to meet each other in the middle.

“I’ve been wishing on you for months,” You admit bashfully, your whisper wobbling in your embarrassment. You’re worried the enormity of your want for him will scare him off. Steve’s grin somehow gets wider, eyes somehow fonder. His voice comes out a bit scratchy, all sticky with affection.

“I think you’ve had me the whole time.”

It’s the honest truth. You’re not even mad about lost time because when he kisses you again like that, there’s no doubt that now? He’s all yours.

#DELICIO #two mutual pining besties sitting in the back of the theatreeeeee #k i s s i n g #this. i want this. i need this to happen to me #somebody SMOOCH me in ze theatre STAT #ruby writes steve #ruby's very own tour of hawkins #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington blurb #stevie blurb!#honestly might tag this as a fic lmao #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #wahooooo

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planerot · 9 months

Text

This is a very silly idea, but it refuses to leave my brain so might as well put it here (This is set sometime after Cars 3 by the way):

Lightning picks up a new game he’s interested in (the exact type/genre of game doesn’t really matter, it’s just some multiplayer game) and starts to play whenever he has time or needs to unwind after a long day.

He intentionally picks a username that is so generic/weird that there is no chance anyone would guess his real identity since, as much as he does love his fans, he really just wants to be able to play normally and not be treated like a celebrity for once.

After awhile of playing, he eventually notices a certain player he plays alongside/against a lot and decides to strike up conversation via the text chat. The other player is a bit prickly at first, but the two actually start getting along and friend each other in the game.

Whenever the two are online at the same time, they team up and play together, slowly becoming close friends as they get more comfortable with each other.

Lightning is completely unaware that the person he’s playing with is, in fact, Jackson Storm, who is also doing his best to stay anonymous.

Both of them are completely blind to who the other’s identity and thus shenanigans ensue as they try and not give away who they really are, not wanting their accounts to be linked to their real identity.

So they would both try and lie in the most believable way possible, neither picking up on the fact the other is also lying, thus leading to conversations like:

Lightning: if you don’t mind me asking, what do you work as? you seem to travel a lot for your job

Jackson (literally sitting in his trailer after a race): …

Jackson: accountant. wby? you seem to travel a lot for work as well

Lightning (typing the first thing he thought that sounded believable): trucker :)

Just the idea of them HATING each others guts in real life but being best buddies in game, venting to the other person in game about something said person literally did/caused in real life but NEVER connecting the dots about each others identity is very funny to me.

#lightning(venting about something Jackson did): yeah my coworkers a real dick #Jackson(completely oblivious): sounds like a real asshole idk how you put up with him #this is intended to be platonic but I don’t care if you tag as romantic #jackson storm #lightning mcqueen #pixar cars #cars fandom

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hellfirexhoe · 1 year

Text

The Pool Boy - Eddie Munson x BoredHousewife Reader

@likedovesinthewnd thank you for being the real brains behind this filth <3

Warnings: 18+ content, minors this isn't for you so fuck off, cheating, bored housewife x poolboy trope, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v sex

3,278 words

Masterlist

The hot sun beats down on you, lounging in a sun chair, dark sunglasses obscuring your eyes. An open book rests at your thighs, you look as though you are deeply engrossed, but your eyes are elsewhere, shamelessly ogling the pool boy your friend had recently hired. Tall and slender, with long dark curls and a few tattoos dotted about him, honestly, if you looked up pool boy in the dictionary a photo of this guy would be the last thing you’d find. And yet, the way he moves so confidently as he cleans the pool floor, the way his muscles flex and relax under his vest, it all just looks so right.

Eddie, you were told his name was, with a nod of your friend’s head towards the figure by the pool as she handed you an icy margarita in the kitchen.

“Never seen him before.” You comment, sipping at your drink, relishing the coolness of it.

“Yeah, well, he’s cheaper than what the other guys charge and so far hasn’t urinated in my garden, so he’s a winner.” Your friend had joked as you both stepped out to the sun loungers.

She left you alone to fix more drinks, so you had pulled out your book, not comfortable to make conversation with Eddie, nor do you have any idea what you’d even say, ask him his favourite brand of chlorine? Please. You struggle not to bite your lip and give yourself away as you watch droplets of water running down his soft skin, and then as though he can hear your thoughts, Eddie turns around, a devilish smile on his face,

“Whatcha reading?” You snap out of your trance and shake your head slightly, almost disorientated,

“Um, what, sorry?” You squeak out the words as he sets down his net and strolls over to you,

“The book. You’re so engrossed in it I figured it's either a really good book, or you’re straight up reading porn.”

You cough a little, caught off by his brashness and quickly grab for your glass sipping down melted ice, you hold up the book so the cover can be seen while Eddie tries not to laugh, he reads the cover and nods,

“The Shining? Wouldn’t take you for a horror fan, considering how much I make you jump. I’m not that scary am I?” The only jumping you want to be doing right now is jumping his bones, and it seems like he’s flirting with you. You push that thought aside, he’s not flirting, just wants me to hire him.

“No, you’re not scary.” Sexy, perhaps. “Who doesn’t love a good scare?”

“I don’t love a scare.” Your friend re-emerges from the kitchen, sunglasses on her forehead showing pale skin around her eyes where the sun has not hit, she looks pointedly at Eddie and back to the pool. Eddie nods and gets back to work without another word.

“You don’t have to be so rude, he can take a break for a few minutes.”

“I’m paying him to clean my pool, not host a book club in my garden. You want to pay for his conversation? Be my guest.” Your friend grabs her bag off the floor and rummages until she finds a business card, it's fairly plain just a phone number and the words “Munson Landscaping”. You plush the card from your friend’s manicured fingers and settle back with another drink. Careful to not let your gaze wander back to Eddie.

When you get home, it’s late and yet still you’re greeted by an empty house. You’d married young and for money. And now you are left with the distinct feeling that you might be wasting your best years on someone who deep down you share no meaningful connection with. Your parents of course had been delighted, it was a step up in the world for you and meant they could look forward to a comfortable retirement since you were their only child. You wander into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you stare out of the window to the pool. A woefully immaculate pool. One that definitely does not need a pool boy to attend to it.

Maybe it's the slight buzz that does it, maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis. But you step out into the garden and find the waste bags the gardener would be collecting in the morning. Dumping all of them into the pool would be ridiculous. So you settle for one, the heaviest, mind you. You cast a quick look around and quickly rip the bag open, tossing the contents into your pristine pool. You look over your handiwork as you dispose of the bag.

“Yep. I’m losing it.”

You walk back into the house, shutting the cool night air out and shivering slightly, you’re still only clad in a bathing suit and cover-up. You rummage through your bag and locate the business card you were given earlier this afternoon, you practise speaking a few times, trying to sound casual and not desperate and once your semi-confident you can talk like a person you dial the number, twisting the cord between your fingers as you hear the dialling tone. Your heart sinks into your stomach when an older voice answers,

“Munson Landscaping, Wayne speaking, how can I help you?”

“Oh, uh um hi. Is Eddie available?” You hear a changing of hands and a muttering from the older voice identified as Wayne.

“Eddie speaking.”

“Oh, hi Eddie, this is Miranda’s friend from today.”

“Oh hey, Miranda gave you this number?” You nod, and then remember that’s not how phone conversations work.

“Yes, listen I just got home and I think my gardener’s check might have bounced or something because it looks like he’s dumped a load of garden waste into my pool. I was wondering if you would be free tomorrow to come and sort it out for me?” You hope you sound casual and lighthearted.

Eddie laughs, “So, a quick tip when you’re calling people to do services for you, don’t mention checks bouncing. I’ll be over at 10am tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver, I’ll make sure I have cash for you.” You’re kicking yourself right now, why on earth would you mention a check bouncing? You could have said the wind this evening blew it into your pool.

“Relax sweetheart, it's just a pool. See you.” The line clicks and you lean back against the cool kitchen counter, you swear you can feel your skin sizzle from how hot your whole body feels, all this just from a phone call?

You sleep fitfully that night, your dreams nothing short of vulgar, that leave you waking up multiple times wanting. It’s almost a relief when your alarm finally rings, freeing you from the relentless lewd scenarios your brain is able to come up with. You take a cold shower, trying to calm your mind down, trying to rationalise that you’re not going to fuck the pool boy. You’re not that much of a cliche. You just want to ogle him. Oof. You’re not sure that’s much better. One thing is for sure, you can’t start fights with your husband for visiting strip clubs ever again.

You rummage through your swimwear drawer, throwing bits of fabric over your shoulder until you land on a dark red set you'd bought for your honeymoon, hoping to jump start your husband’s libido. You’d stood at the foot of the bed, striking a pose and your husband’s response had been to peer over his newspaper and inform you it was distasteful and to get changed before returning to his crossword. You doubt Eddie’s reaction would be in even the same realm as your husband’s. You slip into the bathing suit, grabbing the black sheer wrap and wedge sandals you had left on the floor from the previous day.

Eddie is perfectly punctual, knocking on your door as the second hand ticks to 10 and greets you with a disarming smile, the pool vacuum resting over his arm, he looks you up and down before he can help himself and quickly forces his eyes back up to your face, clinging to a veneer of professionalism that is dangerously close to slipping. As you turn around and lead him to the back garden you hear a sharp intake of breath. As expected, an infinitely different reaction than your husband’s. You unlock the back door and gesture to the pool, filthy now from the garden waste being left in overnight.

“Damn, I’d get a new gardener. You clearly pissed them off.” Eddie whistles as he takes in the damage that your “gardener” caused. Eddie gets to work straight away, pulling his sweatshirt off over his head and giving you a glimpse of more of his skin. You head inside the house and return shortly with glasses of lemonade, you gesture to Eddie, indicating which one is his and he gives you a thumbs up in thanks.

You settle yourself into a sun lounger, this time determined to read more than 3 pages of your book in between glances at Eddie. You can’t just sit here staring. Eddie is a quick worker, you look up from your book after 20 minutes and find he’s almost cleared the branches and leaves. Maybe I should have used all the bags… The thought enters your head before you can stop it and you force yourself to look back at the book, certain your knuckles are white from the grip you have on the pages. You refuse to allow yourself to look back up at Eddie, not even when you hear him approaching and taking a seat on the sun lounger opposite you and chugging his lemonade.

“Okay, honesty hour. Did you dump all this into the pool so you’d have a reason to call me?”

You still don’t look up, “Really, why on earth would I do that?”

“I don’t know but either you made this mess or your gardener has an expensive taste.” You look up at him quizzically and immediately your eyes settle on a glittering bracelet that Eddie is dangling in front of you, reflexively you grab for it and give yourself away. There’s no way you could lie about this being the gardener’s based on the way your magpie hands grabbed at the shiny object.

“Wanted to see me again that badly huh?” Eddie smirks as you reattach the bracelet to your wrist, then as quickly as he came over he strolls back to the pool, continuing to work, the smirk never leaving his face as he continues skimming, the gentle laps of water against the side of the pool the only sound that breaks the silence between you two. You decide to ignore it, turning your attention to your book, a resolve that lasts for all of 30 seconds before you’re staring at Eddie again, watching the way his body moves, eyeing that tattoos that peak out from his vest, while you try to work out the shapes your questions are answered when he pulls the vest top over his head and wipes his forehead with it before throwing it to the side. You blindly reach out for your glass but the condensation makes the glass slip out of your hand and shatter on the ground. You curse loudly and Eddie looks up at the sound,

“You okay?”

You nod, “Fine, just clumsy. I’ll grab a pan for this.” You head to the kitchen and are followed by Eddie, insisting he can help. You grab the pan from the cupboard and start slightly when you see Eddie immediately behind you.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He all but purrs at you, stepping into your space, but slowly, giving you an opportunity to push him away. You don’t, you step towards him and before you can register what’s happening your lips are locked in a searing kiss, Eddie pushes you against the counter, pinning you between it and him, meaning you can feel his cock as it hardens through his thin shorts, you gasp for air as he pulls away,

“Is this okay?” He asks, cheeks flushed and breathless, you nod, pushing him away just enough so that you can slip down to your knees. Screw it. Fuck the thought of being a cliche, you banish all those thoughts from your mind, this is something that you both want and need from each other.

You pull his shorts down slowly, and can’t help but lick your lips as you take in his length. He's bigger than your husband, not just in length but in girth too. You run your tongue up the underside of his dick, eliciting a deep groan from him, you might be rusty but you haven’t completely forgotten how to give good head. You take his tip slowly, barely sucking but enough to have Eddie gripping the counter behind him for dear life, you work your way up, gradually taking more and more of his length until his tip is nudging the back of your throat, you use your hand to squeeze and stroke along the length that you know you can’t take,

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mumbles as you take his length as deep as you dare, until your eyes are misty with tears and then come back up his length, over and over until his cock is coated in your saliva and he’s barely able to speak,

“Sh-shit you need to stop or I’m going to cum right down your throat.” You grant him reprieve, letting his length go with a sordid pop as the tip leaves your mouth. Eddie leans back on the counter for a second, appearing to catch his breath before a devilish smile spreads across his lips,

“Your turn.” and before you can speak he’s pulling you to standing, and lifting you onto the counter with a surprising amount of ease, he’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“This,” he plays with the top of your bathing suit, before unclasping it and throwing it to the floor,

“Is,” now he yanks down the bottoms, leaving you bare on the counter, “So fucking hot.”

“If you like it so much why did you take it off?” You tease him, trying to cover yourself, unsure of why you’re attempting to preserve any modesty.

“Because as sexy as you look in it, you look much better like this.”

Before you can come up with a smart retort his head is between your legs and he’s alternating between sucking on your clit so harshly it makes your hips buck and tracing letters on it with the softest brush of his tongue, it’s maddening sensation that has you racing towards your peak before being slowly brought back down to earth. You whine in frustration and Eddie comes away, kissing at your thighs and rubbing circles into them as though anything other than an orgasm could calm you now.

“Let’s play a game, if you can guess what I’m spelling I’ll let you cum.” You nod, breathing hard, only focused on winning the game so that he’ll stop tormenting you. Eddie’s head dives back in, the tracing of his tongue now going much slower, allowing your head to clear enough to think. The first letter is E - easy enough. Then the second and third letters are the same and form a slow circle around your clit then a quick upwards flick - d.

“Eddie!” you cry out panting, praying to be right, you hear a quiet chuckle before Eddie is eating you like a man starved, shaking his head and moaning against you, your hands become tangled in his hair and your hips start to twitch entirely of their own accord, it's been what feels like an eternity since you last felt this desired, this kind of bliss. Eddie keeps his actions consistent, wrapping his soft lips around your clit and wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you close until he has your whole body in spasm from orgasm.

He wraps his arms around your body as you cling to him, coming down from your high with breathy sighs and unconscious twitches. He helps you down from the counter and holds you steady, waiting until your legs are able to take your weight before his hands leave you,

“Think you can keep going?” A hungry smile forms on his lips as he speaks and you nod, desperate for more. You bend over the counter, sticking out your ass at him and Eddie hesitates for just a moment,

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” You shake your head,

“Just fuck me Eddie.” You’re practically pleading but it's not like you’d need to plead, he’s lining himself up and trying to bite back a moan at the mere sensation of your slick dripping onto the head of his cock. He shivers and slowly slides in, the stretch burns slightly and you make a noise somewhere between pleasure and pain and he stills,

“Everything okay?” You nod and he continues to fill you up, it’s almost a relief when you feel his thighs flush with yours, he pauses, allowing you to adjust to his size before he starts slowly pulling back and setting an almost torturously slow pace, like he has all the time in the world to fuck you and he’s going to relish every single second.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good.” Eddie groans against your shoulder and you can only nod dumbly and moan in response, as your body becomes used to his size he begins to pick up the pace, biting at your shoulder as he pounds into you, every thrust forcing a soft cry of pleasure from your lips. You lean back against him, pressing your back against his chest and he wraps an arm around you to toy with your clit, the dual stimulation making it impossible for you to focus on anything but the euphoria of this moment. Eddie sucks the skin of your neck harshly, you know its going to leave a mark but you don’t care, you cry out for more and then Eddie fucks you harder, nearing his peak, and thats when he makes you do something unexpected. Eddie makes you squirt, creating a mess on the kitchen floor.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Eddie grunts as he reaches his own orgasm, burying himself to the hilt inside you so that you can feel every pulse of his cock as he unloads inside you. Eddie pulls out slowly, as if he resents doing so. You lean forward onto the kitchen counter and try to catch your breath and control the shaking of your thighs, Eddie strokes your back soothingly, whispering words of encouragement to you. You hear cupboards opening near you and then Eddie presents you with a glass of water that you take in shaking hands.

“Fuck.” is the only word you’re able to say. Eddie laughs breathily,

“Right there with you.”

As you recover from your post orgasm haze you suddenly become hyper aware of your nudity and scramble for your cover-up from the floor. Eddie follows suit and grabs his shorts, hiking them up. You throw a kitchen towel over the mess on the floor, cheeks blazing at the sight.

“Well, I’d better get back to the pool.” Eddie bumps your shoulder playfully and then whistles when he gets a look at your neck, “Sorry about that.”

You sneak a peak in the mirror and gasp when you see the darkening love bites left on your skin, those can’t be explained. Then it thrills you a little. How far could you take this?

Eddie taglist: @hellfire-puppet @just-absolutely-feral @fangirling-4-ever @and-claudia @scrumptiouslyangrystarfish @quinndjarin @munsonsgirl71 @likedovesinthewnd @boomhauer @joejoequinnquinn @callmeloverr @dukesmebby

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