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#my hands hurt after typing this all in one go. you're fucking welcome.
viinieroxide · 4 days
Text
—seven days. [ vii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone
part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6.1. part 6.2. part 6.3. part 7.
max: ANSWER ME
max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD
max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR
max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT
max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE
max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME
max: FUCK YOU [NAME]
max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD
max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF
max: IM GOING INSANE HERE
Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.
The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.
Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.
When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.
He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.
You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.
Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.
You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.
“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.
Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.
“I have beer.”
It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.
You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”
It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.
He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.
Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.
He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”
Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.
Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.
(“It's expensive here,” you said.
“I’ll pay,” Max offered.
“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”
You never did.)
Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.
His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.
Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.
He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.
Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.
Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.
Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.
I resigned, Max.
resigned.
Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.
He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.
A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.
Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.
max: hey im planning to visit the US
max: do you think you can show me around?
Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.
“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”
Max nods, “Yeah.”
“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”
“She told you?”
So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.
“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lawson?”
“Yes, Lawson.”
Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.
“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”
“Leo?”
Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.
“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”
Max pauses.
“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”
Max tries his hardest not to scream.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”
They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”
“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”
Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.
The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.
“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.
“Yeah.”
Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.
“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”
Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.
Julio died….?
Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.
The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.
“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.
“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—
Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.
“She needs to what?”
“You're angry.”
You reminded me, Max said in his mind.
“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”
Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”
Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.
Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.
“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”
Max contemplates.
He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.
And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.
Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.
After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”
“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”
“It’s Max Verstappen.”
Silence.
“Hello, are you still there?”
Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”
“Max Verstappen.”
“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”
“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”
“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”
“You're smart.”
“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”
“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.
“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”
“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”
“You don't know what you're talking about—”
“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”
“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?”
Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”
Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”
Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.
“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”
Leo sighs again.
“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”
You don't need Max.
But Max needs you.
That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.
“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”
“And how is this my fault?”
“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”
“I—”
“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”
Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.
“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”
A pause.
“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”
“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.
“Are you really?”
Is he really?
“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”
The call ends.
Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.
Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.
The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.
On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.
kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place
max: okay
kelly: also
kelly: *sent a photo*
kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault
kelly: you have a good one
The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.
“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”
His mother does not look convinced.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”
At the mention of you, Max looks away.
“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”
The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.
He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.
“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.
“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.
“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”
“Oh.”
Sophie blinks.
“Max, you—”
“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”
Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.
Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.
Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.
Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.
He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.
Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.
max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?
His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.
Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.
“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.
“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.
Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”
“You’ve been talking?”
Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?
“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”
Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].
daniel: hey!
daniel: heard from max what happened
daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick
you: can't sorry
daniel: aww how about jeddah
daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial
you: idk man
you: might be too much noise and distraction for you
you: good luck in jeddah tho
A very passive aggressive reply.
“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.
Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.
Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.
It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.
“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”
“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”
Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Logan nods.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.
“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”
A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.
The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.
“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”
“What do you have there?”
“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”
“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.
“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.
“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.
“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.
Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.
“Please don't.”
Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.
Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:
“Mad Max is back.”
“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”
“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”
“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”
Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.
Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.
He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.
Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?
Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.
Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.
“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”
Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.
“Where's she?” Max demands.
“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”
Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.
He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.
No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.
Max's shoulders sagged.
He wasn't fast enough.
633 notes · View notes
venus-haze · 11 months
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Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons
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Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.
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• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture
• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper
• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets
• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”
• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter
• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him
• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment
• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend
• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process
• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features
• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie
• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that
• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you
• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss
• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down
• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit
• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though
• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years
• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him 
• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control
• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist
• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones
• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe” 
• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick
• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
Note
Hello there! Just read the wrestling ask! Wooo 🥵 Buttt it made me think.. what if in the heat of the moment (not particularly wrestling but any heat of the moment) and Andy is too rough on accident? Maybe he fingers her too hard, or grabs her too hard and it genuinely hurts. How would he react and make it better? We all know he would go full stop then make her feel better, but how?!
Thanks love!
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The Rub Down
Summary: Andy takes care of you when things get a little rough in bed.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Bratty Reader, Manhandling, Oral Sex (fem rec), Light Spitting, Daddy Kink, Ass Slapping, Aromatherapy, Worried Andy, Possessive/Doting Andy, Fitness Regimens, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Takes place in my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Like, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
____
The last time things got out of hand occurred right after you pushed yourself too hard at the gym. You'd recently purchased a trial package on Groupon that offered you a chance to work with a personal trainer.
Now it's not like you're expecting immediate results overnight or anything. You were just looking for a few tips to help you tone up.
Of course your husband thinks you look beautiful just the way you are, which is sweet. But you've also come to the conclusion that your arms happen to jiggle a little too much for your liking.
The package you bought includes several sessions, complete with an individualized diet and meal plan that is tailored to your body type. Each session proves to be amazing, but you're often left feeling sore and exhausted at the end of the day.
Every single part of you seemed to ache, but in a good way. And you're certainly not going to let your tight, overworked muscles get in the way of you enjoying an evening alone with your man after having shipped the kids off to grandma's for the night.
At first everything seems fine when Andy tosses you on the bed. Giggles bubble up as you drag his big body closer to your own, the two of you frantically helping each other strip.
Once you're naked, your man is on you like an animal. Grunts and growls fill the room, spilling out into the hall. After welcoming four children, leaving the door ajar during a bout of frenzied lovemaking sometimes feels more than a little exhilarating.
It's always a beautifully added bonus when you don't have to worry about traumatizing several sets of precious virgin ears.
The two of you are a mess. Each hot, wet kiss growing more bold than the one before it. One of Andy's hands winds its way into your thick, glossy curls - wrenching your head back so that he can trail his wicked tongue along the exposed curve of your throat.
You let out a wild cry when his sharp teeth bite down over your pulse. He draws the tender flesh into his mouth, sucking hard.
It's no surprise that Andrew Barber seems intent on marking you tonight. And you revel in every second of it, loving the way the pleasure mixes with the pain. He nibbles his way down your body - each caress of his lips slow and deliberate.
Your hips buck of their own accord when Andy's mouth finds your pouting nipple, lightly toying with it. His teeth graze over the sensitive, pebbled flesh as you continue to writhe underneath him.
"Ooh yeah, Daddy...fuck! R-right there...oh please!"
Andy grinds his hips against your drenched core, your now ruined panties resembling little more than a useless scrap as it's ripped away. You can barely think, let alone speak as his name falls from your lips, whispered again and again like a desperate prayer.
Your husband pushes you down against the mattress, his normally gentle hands possessively squeezing and kneading your breasts before skimming their way down your body. He pauses when he finally reaches your quivering pussy. His lips curve into a smirk as his eyes hone in on your swollen clit peeking out from between your lips.
"Oh, Baby Girl." Comes the rumbled purr, the deep timbre of his voice making you shiver. Andy's intoxicating blue eyes shift to meet your own. "Looks like someone is excited to play with Daddy." Your hips jerk when two long, nimble fingers stroke their way across the sensitive nub.
You bite back a moan when the filthy bastard spits directly on your cunt, his hooded gaze never once leaving yours. Your core spasms as the makings of an impending orgasm begins to coil in your belly. And then he goes to do it again. This time gripping your thighs and roughly jerking your legs apart before forcing your knees towards your chest.
It's a move that you normally would've loved. But not today. Today it hurts like a bitch. You bite your lip to keep from crying out in pain as Andy lines up his straining member with your wet pussy.
"It feels like it's been so long, sweetness." Andy growls before entering you with one hard thrust. "Missed you so much."
It couldn't have been more than five days since you'd last made love. But to your adorably dramatic husband, it might as well have been a lifetime.
"Need you so fuckin' bad." He grunts, his accent growing more and more pronounced with each movement of his hips. "Missed you. Missed you. Missed you." Every time he utters that phrase it somehow manages to sound more reverent than the last.
A broken sob escapes you as the pain you're experiencing finally ebbs. Your velvet walls grip his thick cock, eagerly milking him for all he's worth. Waves of pleasure course through you as you feel his heavy sac smack against your damp flesh with each rhythmic thrust.
And then suddenly he bears down, making you take all of his weight. A sharp cry forces its way from your throat before you can catch it as you feel the muscle in your thigh threatening to snap.
"Shit!" Comes Andy's startled hiss, quickly stilling his movements. "Oh fuck!
Just like that everything stops. Well, everything except the pain that is. A lone tear spills its way down your cheek as you grit your teeth, silently begging your husband to let go of your leg.
Andy whispers your name, willing you to open your eyes and look at him. Gentle hands roam their way across your body as he tries to locate the source of the pain.
"Fuck, I - open up those pretty eyes for me, baby." He murmurs with a hint of panic in his tone. "Need you to tell me what's wrong. Did I hurt you?"
"Nooo!" You whine when he goes to move your leg in an attempt to lower it back onto the bed. "Ju-just gimme a sec. Please."
The muscle was now so fucking tight you were afraid to even move it.
"Okay, you can have a couple seconds. But then I'm gonna need you to use your words and tell me what hurts and where." Andy pleads as he places his hands on either side of your slightly trembling thigh. "Is it here?"
"Yeah!" You wail as another tear cascades down your cheek to join the first. "I'm sorry."
You try to pull away from him when he begins to lightly massage the sore muscle, not that you manage to get very far. As it is, you're in too much pain. And even if you weren't, your much larger husband was faster than you - even on a good day.
"Okay, okay. No need to be sorry, little love. Can you tell me if it's the muscle?"
You nod, throwing an arm over your eyes as your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Alright, Baby Girl. I'm gonna shift things a little. Hold on." Andy slowly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling cold and empty. It was definitely one of your least favorite feelings. You can tell that he's trying not to jostle you too much, even as he works to flip you onto your front.
"I'm sorry." You tell him again, grateful that your words are now at least somewhat muffled by a pillow.
"Hush." He grunts before straddling your legs, his knees resting on either side of yours. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the muscle in your right thigh feels incredibely tight."
"Yep." You whimper through clenched teeth. "Right there in the center. Feels like there's a knot or something."
Andy blows out a concerned breath as he goes to work massaging the area. "Like I just said, it's fucking tight. Almost as if you've strained it." Eventually, the stiffness begins to ease.
As the pain dulls, you notice your husband has gone suspiciously quiet. So quiet and thoughtful that you can practically hear the gears turning in his head.
"Andy..."
"We're gonna need to ice this, Princess." He hums, pressing a kiss to sweet kiss to the rounded globes of your ass. "And maybe get you in to see a doctor or something. I know I was being rough, but nothing on you should be this tight."
Another beat of silence passes before he finally speaks again. "Did I...did I hurt you anywhere else, sweet girl?" His tone comes out low and gruff.
You feel your heart seize in your chest. "Not you." Groaning, you attempt to flip yourself over. It takes a couple of tries - mostly because your husband refuses to move.
"Take it easy for me, sweetheart." Andy implores, his expressive blue eyes openly examining every inch of you as he worriedly hovers above your tense form. "Now, where else does it hurt?"
"You didn't, Big Man. It's my fault - I don't think I stretched right after my last workout or something." You reach up to cup his face, the pad of your thumb tenderly caressing his chiseled jaw.
"I - I shouldn't have handled you like that, Baby Girl. I was too rough." He drops a loving kiss on the soft skin of your palm. "Got caught up in the moment and ended up twisting you like a goddamned pretzel."
"Shh, Andy Bear. You know I love it when you twist me up. I get so fucking wet when you go deep like that, I always cum hard as fuck when I feel you in my belly, Daddy."
You offer him a playful smile when you feel his half-hard cock twitch against your leg.
"Stop trying to distract me, little girl." Relief fills you when you notice a hint of a grin flit across his handsome features.
"I am not." You pout, pulling his head down to yours.
"Yes, you are." He snarls softly before catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly. "I'm onto your games, brat. But I'm afraid nobody's getting twisted up into anything until we take care of that sore muscle. Now turn over."
"But why?" You ask with a whine even as you move to comply.
"Because Daddy's going to give you a full body rub down, Baby Girl." Andy slowly rises from the bed and pads towards the bathroom, but not before delivering a swift blow to your upturned ass. "And when I'm convinced I've got feeling good and loose to my satisfaction, I'll consider giving you my cock."
Fuck. You hated when your sweet ogre was right.
"When you're finished with me, can I at least tie you up and rub you down too?" Your question elicits a chuckle from your husband as he rummages through one of your draws to retrieve your oils.
"We'll see, Princess." Comes his indulgent reply as he makes his way back over to you clutching two vials, mostly likely Ylang Ylang and Jasmine since those two scents often paired well together. "Although, I think you should know that I'm not very happy with you right now."
Andy pours a small amount of oil into his palm as he climbs onto the bed. He rubs his hands together, doing his best to warm it before gingerly taking hold of your left ankle so that he can begin by massaging the ball of your foot.
It feels so fucking good that you don't even care that you're about to be on the receiving end of a lecture.
"Okay, Andy." You murmur lazily, resting your head on your arms.
"If you insist on overdoing it at the gym, then you're going to need to make sure you stretch properly before and after." His clever hands move to your heel before eventually switching to the other foot.
"Uh huh." Now he's working on your left calf, kneading and rubbing any residual soreness out of the languid muscles.
"And I've gotta tell you, baby...I don't really have a lot of faith in your shit-for-brains trainer. He should've stretched you out more and -" Your husband abruptly cuts himself off as his train of thought derails all on its own. "Actually, come to think of it, I don't like the thought of his grimy hands even touching you."
Oops. Looks like your Big Man was going down the rabbit hole. Better put a stop to it.
"Alright." Is all you can muster through your bliss-filled haze.
"Does he touch you?" There's a hard edge to Andy's tone, letting you know he's getting closer and closer to going off the deep end. "Is he inappropriate? Has he ever gotten a little too handsy?"
"No. No. And also no." You quickly reassure him as he skillfully manipulates your body in the most delicious of ways.
"Good. But I still don't like the fucker." He grouses, all the while completely ignoring the fact that he'd never even met the man. "How many more sessions do you have with him, Baby Girl?"
"One." The word floats out on the heels of a dreamy sigh.
"Fine. I'll allow it." Andy returns his attention back to the source of your original problem - your possibly strained thigh.
Oh thank you, my most gracious and benevolent husband. You think to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
"But after that I'm training you from now on, Baby Girl. And you have my word that I'll make sure to stretch you right both before and after we work up a sweat."
"Kay." You feel your body stir through the midst of your relaxation as a familiar warmth pools in your belly.
"I think you'll find my fee to be pretty reasonable as well." Andy continues as his hands come to rest on your ass. The sound of a wet slap cracks through the air before being quickly followed by another. "In return for worshiping this body and all of it's luscious curves, all I require from you is your obedience and...your orgasms."
Woah! Sometimes your man could drive quite the hard bargain.
"Oh, is that all?" You muse, throwing him a teasing grin over your shoulder.
"Yes." He responds with a solemn nod. "That would be correct. I'm going to need all of your orgasms. Every single one."
Giggling softly, you take a moment to consider his proposal. "Looks like you've got yourself a new client, Andy Bear. Hope you'll be able to fit me into your busy schedule, otherwise I'll have to keep Derek on standby."
"What the fuck have I told you about mentioning another man's name in our bed, Baby Girl?" He raises one imperious looking brow.
"Sorry, Sir."
"Forgiven. Now, how about we seal this deal with a kiss?" Andy doesn't bother waiting for your response before flipping you over to your back and settling himself on his knees in front of you once more.
You nod eagerly, offering up your mouth for the taking. Only to be surprised when your husband's head begins to slowly lower in the direction of the sweet spot between your parted thighs, his eyes darkening at the sight of your throbbing pussy.
And then the realization finally dawns. Your man wanted a kiss.
"Mmhm. And I'm afraid I'm gonna have to be very, very thorough." Andy affirms with a playful grin. "Now open wide for Daddy, baby. I think it's about time for your first warm up."
END
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innocent-cat · 1 year
Note
You wanted NSFW? here you go. Percy kinks and Headcanons, go!
I'd love to!! Minors DNI. Or don't, I literally cant stop you lol
Percival De rolo x Reader Head canons
Warnings - Sexual themes
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"Attraction of a Bloomed and Robust Carnation.", Percy x Reader
.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻
He 100% tries to take it slow with you until you've told him it's okay to go fast
First few times? as romantic as it gets
Makes sure you're as comfortable as possible
"Pillow?" "Need a break?" "You alright?"
buzzes in your ear like a fly trying to make sure he's not hurting you
OF COURSE, after a few months of easing into your intimate parts of your relationship, you guys get a little rougher.
or. he gets rougher.
He 100% will hold your hands above your head with one hand and your leg up with the other
Being an inventor, he obviously has you test toys for him.
He loves watching you squirm when he's burying himself in you, or when you use the toys in front of him.
Of course, traveling in a group as your only constant, you guys have to be quiet, so there'll be the occasional "Suck on my fingers while I fuck your brains out" moment between the two of you so Vox Machina doesn't pretend you two don't exist for the next day or so
Fidgeting with his gun all the time, his finger game, HAS to be on point bro
playing you languorously like delicate strands to a violin he can and will make you finish on his fingers
will make eye contact with you while he licks his fingers off
he knows where the clit is, so, you're welcome for that
but if ur not a girl ignore that
the gunslinger is a chest guy because I said so
or thigh
he just loves your body, so everything counts
just esp your chest
Loves cockwarming.
He'll have you on him while he works at his desk, grunting at your occasional adjustment and dropping on him
Generally just loves the closeness of it, though
sweet Percy at heart
then, of course, he'll occasionally flip you over and practically ram you into the fucking workbench
occasional mask play,, if you asked
He'd use the silly little Plague Doctor mask duh
Definitely thought it was weird at first
it grew on him
a lot
Since you're the only one he let's in his workshop without knocking, there are often times where your little bursts of sexual intent occur
Like. You'll be throat deep on him and he'll just be working on a repair/upgrade on his gun
You don't move much on him though, he wouldn't be able to work on his gun otherwise
Definitely the type of guy to tuck his face into your neck while u gripped his back, whispering how good you are when you're about to snap
"Thats right.. just like that, dear."
"You're so gorgeous.."
"Fuck.. so good for me."
He also enjoys having his hair played with
Feel free to tug it when he's going down on you
he'll be so into it i swear
Oh, and he'll definitely drop a joke or two balls deep in you just to make sure the atmosphere isn't awkward and he didn't know
"Soooo.. how's the weather..?"
"Percy, wha-what the fuck??"
of course the both of you were giggling about it for a long time after
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luveline · 8 months
Note
Oh my gosh Zombie!steve holds a special place in my heart. Please write more for this Drabble series
thank you for reading!! steve zombie!au —you and steve reunite after a morning apart. 1k, fem!reader
Steve's sitting by the fire unawares when you drape the spare blanket over his shoulders. His hair, wet from a quick scrub in the stream, has soaked the collar of his shirt. The blanket is a welcome warmth, your doting moreso. 
He puts his makeshift bookmark between the pages of his book and follows your face as you sit with him. The apocalypse and subsequent lack of movies has turned him into a bookworm through necessity. He worries about things too much if he has nothing to do, and lately that's always the case. 
"Hello," you say, crossing your legs. Your knee bumps into his. "Sorry. Hey. What chapter are you on?" 
He flips the pages until he finds the chapter header. "Chapter twenty five." 
"You're getting quick," you say. 
It's weird to him that after so many confessions, days spent in one another's arms, nights laying between each other's thighs, you still hesitate sometimes before touching him. You know how much he loves you, and you waver. 
"We could start reading them together again."
"I go too fast." Your eyes widen in recognition. "But you're quicker now." 
He doesn't mind missing the last few lines of each page if it means you'll lean your head against his arm for a couple of hours every night. Your breath warms his collarbones. Your cheek soft and smushed to his rigid shoulder. 
"Way quicker." 
He thinks you're beautiful. It might be hurtful to say you aren't everyone's type, and it's not that he felt he had to warm to you before you became his type or anything, but you have something about you that he loves. Maybe it's purely the way you smile at him, that silly devotion poorly smothered (that he hopes you'd find reflected by him), or maybe it's your eyes. Maybe it's the way you speak to him, half the time like you're worried he won't talk back, and the other half like you're the same person thinking all the same things. He's hungry for every thought you have. 
Beautiful, and he loves you. Steve couldn't be more sure about it, and everyday it gets worse. He wonders if it'll ever stop, or if one day he's going to wake up next to you and choke on air, astounded by the chances of it all. How did you manage to find him? What luck was it of his to get to keep you despite his bad behaviour? He knows he was never as kind as he should've been to start with.
He looks at you and he thinks, Fuck, she's pretty. 
Steve tosses his book down into the packed dirt and just stares at you. You look back unabashed for a handful of seconds he savours. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask. 
"No," he murmurs. "You're just beautiful." 
Your eyebrows thread together at the starts, a wrinkle creasing the skin between them. You don't believe him, your lips puckering into a small frown.
"Why do you say stuff like that?" you ask. 
"I really, really think it's true. That's why. I can't not look at you without thinking about it. Even when we're dirty and starving and smell like hot garbage," he says, shrugging gently. "You're beautiful." 
"You've been reading too many romance books."
"I get that it sounds weird," he says. "Doesn't make it less true. You're beautiful." 
"That's enough," you say with a grin. "Stop. If Eddie hears you saying that he'll make fun of you forever." 
Steve gives you a fake shove. "Sorry, I'm confessing my love and the first thing you bring up is my arch nemesis?" 
You wince though he's only kidding, more than aware of his Eddie Munson related jealousy. You both talk about everything without punches pulled these days, and you've assured him he's the only one for you, but he'd quite like to hear it again. 
"Sorry, that's my bad," you say, shuffling closer to him. You put your arm behind his back and kiss his shoulder, warmth unfurling from the contact despite the shirt and blanket between it. "I think you're handsome, too, but you know that. Beside the fact that I'd never really been naked in front of someone before, those early days were torture for me 'cus I thought you were, like, the handsomest guy I went to school with." 
"Just school?" 
"No," you mumble, crossing your free arm over his stomach, nestling yourself under his arm. "Handsomest guy ever." 
He dips his head to touch his nose to the top of your head. 
"I love you," you say, scrunching his shirt in your hand. 
"Yeah, I love you, too. How was work?" 
"Bah. How was your day off?" 
Steve likes getting time off at camp, but it's pointless when you're not off with him. "Wasted. Missed you stupid, helped out with the kids at lunch anyways, spent the rest of it on that shitty book." 
"It's no good?" you ask. 
He loves your voice. It shoots through him like a spark, your genuine, lilting concern. 
"Shit. I don't think I wanna finish it."
"Skip to the end and go get a new one," you suggest. 
He closes his eyes and breathes in the smoky air of the campsite. You have this effect on him —of many— where you can quieten a hectic place. You sit down next to him and suddenly he's not sitting a ways off from the fire in the middle of the Michigan woodland, he's with you. Plain and simple. 
"I will." 
"Maybe I can help you vet some? Make sure you get one you enjoy this time. Or we can trade some of our credits for a new pack of cards. I'll teach you how to play speed."
"After you tricked me into being bad at gin rummy? Nah, you're okay." 
You force his head up as you lift your own, pinning him with your tender gaze. "You like losing. You do, you always say I have to kiss it better." 
He's a simple man. A kiss from his girl is all he needs. "Maybe we should get a pack of cards," he says smugly. 
You shake your head at him, but you're beaming. 
329 notes · View notes
simpforrooster · 2 years
Text
howdy, darlin'
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Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!Reader
Reader and Jake find themselves sharing a hotel room for Phoenix's wedding.
A/N: ah yes my friends. a slight enemies to lovers with a one bed/room trope. this one is def going to have a part 2.
"You can't be serious." You couldn't have heard the clerk correctly. You called and booked weeks ago. No. Months ago. As soon as Phoenix told you the wedding date. There is no way they don't have you booked.
"Jake Seresin. Check again." You hear to your right. Dread washes through you. Ugh. The gorgeous blonde you love to trade insults with.
"Sir, I don't have you on the books. We do have one queen room left, you are welcome to it."
Jake rolls his eyes, and before he can reply, you look at your clerk. "I need that room."
Jake turns towards you and gives you one of those cocky smirks. "Well, howdy, darlin'. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Save it, Bagman. I'm her best friend. Of course I'm here." You turn your attention to the clerk. "Gimme that room."
Jake's eyes go wide, and he faces back to the lady helping him, who absolutely seems to be under his spell.
"Well, I do believe I was here first. What say you give me that room." Jake leans his chin on his hand, giving the girl a heart stopping smile. It takes everything in you not to make a comment.
The clerks exchange a glance, neither wanting to touch this with a ten-foot-pole. They don't even know the two of you, and even they can tell you can't stand one another.
"Let's flip for it," Jake suggests, turning back towards you.
"Can't you just stay with the bridesmaid you're going to end up taking home after the rehearsal?"
Jake smirks. "You're the only single one." This gets an eyeroll out of you.
"Let's just share it, we're both adults. We need a place to stay, before they give the room to someone else."
"I'll need a credit card, ma'am," your clerk says.
"Pay the man," you tell Jake. Jakes gives you a long onceover, but he doesn't put up a fight. He pulls out his credit card and lays it on the counter.
"You owe me, Darlin'," he murmurs, giving you a wink, and for the first time, that wink sends your stomach aflutter.
***
"One bed?!" you screech after the two of you finally get up to the room.
"Did you not hear her say 'queen room'?" Jake rolls his eyes. "Did you expect a room fit for The Queen? Obviously, I am sleeping on the floor."
You shake your head. "You paid for the room, I'll sleep on the floor."
"You're insulting my southern hospitality. Trust me, my mama raised a gentleman, for the most part." He smirks and throws in a wink. "Sleep in the fucking bed, please."
Knowing the argument was over, you toss your suitcase onto the bed. As you unpack the weekend's dresses to hang in the closet, you feel Jake's eyes on you. A blush falls across your cheeks. How in the world are you going to handle being in this small room with him. Especially with him looking at you like this. He's never given you this look before.
"Why don't you like me?" Jake asks, pulling you from your thoughts. He's reclined back in the one lone chair in the room. His arms rest on his stomach, fingers interlaced. His eyes trail up and down your body again. A small smirk sits on his face. "Come on, it's obvious."
"I don't not like you, Hangman. I don't want to get caught up in your world, is all."
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "What do you mean my world? Military guys don't do it for you?"
"I couldn't care less about you being in the military. My dad is and he and my mother have a great relationship. I'm talking about your cycle of girls."
Hurt flashes across his face. "Well, consider yourself lucky then. You're not my type anyway." Jake doesn't say anything more, and heads into the restroom. The shower turns on a few seconds later.
It's your turn to feel hurt. Of course you're his type. You're breathing.
***
"Jake has been mean mugging every guy who's wanted to talk to you tonight," Phoenix tells you. The formalities of the rehearsal were over, and y'all were onto the drinking portion of the night, in the hotel bar.
You immediately filled your friend in on everything as soon as you saw her. Phoenix has always maintained that Jake has the biggest crush on you.
"He's probably thrilled to have you all to himself," she adds.
"Don't you have a fiancé you could go talk to you?" you lightly push her shoulder, eliciting a laugh from her.
"I do, and I am trying to work on getting you one. Come on, I'm telling you, Seresin is in love with you."
"Bob!!" you call out, causing a few people to look over at the two of you. "I need you to come get your fiancé, please!"
Bob comes over after finishing his conversation with Maverick, grinning as he takes in his fiancé. She does look beautiful in her short white dress, having decided on the one with the big bow on the back. She mentioned wanting something "girly" since Bob sees her in her flight suit 99% of the time.
"I can't believe you're going to be Mrs. Floyd tomorrow," he tells her, pulling her back against his chest, placing kisses all over her face. "She trying to play matchmaker again with Mr. Seresin?"
You nod. "Always."
Bob takes Phoenix off, and your heart longs for what they have. It's not that you're dying to get married, or anything. That can wait. You just want a Bob. A partner in crime. A constant. Someone who knows your Starbucks order, and can quote your favorite movie with you.
You know that man isn't a Hangman. He isn't the relationship type. He's the one you have fun with. The one you bring home to piss off your parents. Which is why most of what comes from your mouth is abrasive when it comes to him.
"Come dance with me," a gruff voice says into your ear. Jake's hand finds its way into yours, and he pulls you out onto the makeshift dance floor in the bar.
Jake expertly pushes you across the dance floor, and the alcohol has finally made it's way into your head, causing you to feel a little lighter.
"I didn't think I was your type," you quip. "That really hurt my feelings, you know." You don't mean for that to slip out.
He is quick with his response. "Well you hurt mine, so we're even."
The two of you sway to an old love song, neither of you speaking. Jake keeps his green eyes on yours, and the intensity of his stare almost knocks you off your feet.
"I bet Phoenix is loving this, she thinks you like me," you giggle. Uh oh. A giggle and you're spilling secrets. You've got to get out of here and back up to your room.
Where Jake will follow you back to. Because of the shared room.
Jake doesn't acknowledge what you said. "Rooster is going to let me bunk with him tonight. I wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong impression of you being caught up in my cycle of women."
Jake twirls you one more time, and leaves you alone on the floor.
What game is he playing??
masterlist.
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strawhatkia · 8 months
Text
love you more when the day is new.
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INCLUDES ! katsuki bakugo, eijirou kirishima, and hitoshi shinsou x black!fem!reader
GENRE ! fluff
SYNOPSIS ! weekend morning antics or, what it's like to wake up to the boys !
WARNINGS ! y'all live in an apartment (not the dorms), characters have been aged up, if i miss anything let me know (it's so fcking late)
WORD COUNT ! i have no clue...
A/N ! imma do a pt.2 because i wanted to add sero and izuku but i can't fucking focus so y'all have this for now !
SONG SUGGESTION ! breakfast in bed by rayana jay, breakfast by fana hues, one love by cleo sol
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
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— ☾⋆⁺₊🧨💢✧ KATSUKI BAKUGO !
with how early this boy goes to sleep, waking up before him is quite literally impossible
usually it's you waking up to him on his phone as he rubs your side with his free hand, tucking you in closer to his chest while looking the most relaxed you will ever see him
he always knows when you're about to wake up, and og i am not kidding, the boy picks up on when you're heart rate changes
but there's a reason, i promise ! kats is vv afraid of losing his hearing one day due to his quirk so he kinda asked recovery girl to teach him how to pick up on someone's pulse from their neck
after that, he always positioned himself so you would be laying on his arm and his hand would be on your neck some how cute right?
this is the best time for cuddles because he is so pliant and peaceful and warm
the moment you look like you're getting up, he immediately puts his phone down (he really didn't care for it but he was bored waiting on you to wake up)
he quietly accepts your hug, tangling his legs with yours and tucking his head into your neck with a sigh as you slowly wake up
"morning suki" "g'morning" "did you sleep okay?" "hm...i was bored waiting on you" "my bad, how long did you wait?" "not long...go to bed early" "not everyone is an old man like you kats" "shut up, talking shit this early- don't laugh-"
his arms tighten around you when you shift and he continues to rub circles on your back and rub your sides in hopes of you getting to relax more so you don't get out of the bed
"babes, we gotta get up" "hm." "we can't stay here all day" "like hell we can't" "kat-"
prepare for some soft kisses to shut that nonsense up because he ain't hearing none of it
i feel like if you had a scarf on and the knot was pressing into his face, he would just snatch that shit off in the middle of your sleep and either redo it or put a bonnet on for you
"kats...where's my scarf?" "hm? i took it off" WHAT-" "the damn knot was hurting my face" "...i oughta whoop yo ass" "oh shut up, i know you feel that damn bonnet on your head ! it's not like i left your head unprotected !"
how he gets away with taking it off without you noticing is a mystery (and a profound skill)
when it comes to breakfast, he is definitely making it and no you can't help
"one of these days you'll get tired of making breakfast every morning we have off" "dumbass, if that day comes i'm either sick or you need to come knock some sense into me" "i can cook, kats, you do know that right?" "i didn't ask, you do know that right?" "aight, nigga-"
he'll never say it out loud, but you're his girl and he's supposed to take care of you so breakfast is the least he can do; plus you're still sleepy, he doesn't want you to burn yourself (never mind the years you spent making breakfast for yourself)
big on french toast with brioche bread just because he can and he loves the way you struggle a lil to bite into that thick ass piece a bread ; you stuffing your face with food he cooked always makes him happy
(if you're the type of person that dances or hums or makes a face when eating good food, just know he's looking for that cue and won't be satisfied until sees it)
also food = love pipeline !
— ☾⋆⁺₊🐈‍⬛🌀✧ HITOSHI SHINSOU !
you always wake up first, always
toshi has trouble sleeping most days and with him being a stealth hero, sleep often alludes him
sleeping with you helps as much as it can but he still struggles sometimes so in the morning, you let him sleep as long as he wants
i'd like to think that he runs a little cold most nights so the bed being warm is important to him sleeping peacefully so in the morning when you wake up, you don't get out of the bed too quickly
he's such a cat, even in his sleep, so cuddling with him will get you an immediate response; if you tuck him into you chest and rub his back, he'll snuggle closer to you and sigh, relaxing even further into your hold ; if you kiss his forehead and rub his side, he'll roll into your touch; if you try to spoon him and nuzzle into his back, he'll hold your arms in his hands, stroking his thumb against your forearm
blankets *
it's getting out of bed that is incredibly hard because there's a chance he'll wake up which we don't want= mf needs sleep ; even if he sleeps for a little while long, he'll notice the bed get cold almost immediately
technically, this is the morning but y'all don't roll out the bed until noon because toshi needs sleep and you'll feel bad if you wake him before he actually gets up
great cuddler tho !
— ☾⋆⁺₊ 🦈🪨✧ EIJIROU KIRISHIMA !
one of the few times, his hair isn't trying to impale everything near it
despite how much gel the boy puts into his hair, his hair is very soft and fluff (also do to the fact you make him take better care of his hair bc whew-)
smooth, silky, and soft ! it's hard not to touch as soon as you wake up because it's just right in front of your face and so you run your hands through it (kiri definitely wakes up the moment you start stroking his hair but like hell he's moving away, to relaxed to move)
when he does want to wake up, he stretches very slowly before letting out the loudest groan and popping every bone down his spinal cord
"well damn, kiri, you good" "never better" "okay well don't break your back, old man, we ain't even got out the bed yet" yea haha very funny"
another cuddle bug but definitely more aggressive, pulling you on top of him and wrapping his arms around you while kissing your cheeks multiple times, laughing when you groan or yell at him to put you down
he doesn't
i envision kiri as the type to just go back to sleep as soon as he's comfortable again so getting out of the bed is a very long affair
even so, he does not stop trying to kiss you anywhere he can reach (ofc a lil softer than before) and humming when you kiss him back
he's just so soft and loving in the morning, shit is almost overwhelming
just letting you know, i fully believe that if you let him start or start it yourself, he'll kiss you the entire morning and start tearing up because he just loves you so much
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©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! ���
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wanna read more ??
boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo
lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | bakugo, sero, shinsou, hawks, and mirio.
taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams
eijirou kirishima taglist: @cosmiles
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butterfluffy · 1 year
Text
“braids”
⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· how would these long-haired, blond men react if their s/o braids their hair?
⠀⠀➧ fluff | killer, b. hawkins, cavendish (separate) × gn!s/o!reader | headcanons + scenario
⠀⠀➧ warnings — none! the boys be slightly ooc though, and mistakes may be present.. so do ignore them, thanks!
⠀⠀➧ requests are open! do send some requests for me to write!
⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes : being able to get your hands on their luscious hair is a privilege frfr. 😫💗
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KILLER
Killer would NOT let you braid his hair, since he only trusts himself with his luscious locks, hAha.
But don't worry, eventually, he will let you do so, although he's a littleeeee grumpy the whole time, ehe.
You'll be needing to do a lot of pleading, and your bestest puppy eyes to get Killer to give in to your request though.
Will give you a light scolding if you comb his hair too harshly, or if you get them tangled, so ya better get a good job done, honey. 😐
“kil, can i braid you hair?” you ask all of a sudden, sparkling eyes glued on killer's beautiful hair that is still damp from the shower he took, while he, on the other hand—
“huh? no way...” killer, who is currently unmasked, retorted. piercing eyes squinted at your pleading ones, not showing any sign of giving in to your request.
“aawww, pretty please? i just wanna braid your majestic hair!” you beg, slipping a small compliment in hopes to melt killer's cold front, which surprisingly worked.
“you—ugh, fine. ya better do a great job though, or else ‘m never lettin' ya touch my hair ever again.” giving in, killer finally slumped down the floor, sat in front of you so that you could start braiding his hair..~
You can definitely confirm that his scolding and snarky comments are worth it after seeing the result of your hard work.
Bro looks hella majestic when he has his hair braided, frfr. 😫😫
Kil might ask you to braid his hair again next time if he likes your work. Might reward you a kiss, too. 👀✨💋😍😍😫💋💋😘💗💗🤭😍
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BASIL HAWKINS
Wanna braid his hair? Sure, go ahead. He doesn't give a damn whatever the hell you want to do with his hair. He trusts you with it, since you're his lover.
Just don't you fucking dare cut, or fuck his hair up, or else you would wake up next to an enemy, and not a lover. 😀
Not the type to be grumpy ‘nd irritated when he gets hurt during the braiding session, but the type to constantly send you a glare and mutter a small curse, hAhaHahaHA.
Also, I feel like he'd guide, or help you in braiding his own hair. Cuz I think he braids his hair/knows how to braid hair. ☺️☺️
“hawkins..~? may i, uh, you know....” you muttered, shyly approaching your lover who lets a sigh escape his lips, already knowing what's on your mind despite not consulting his cards.
“yes, my love. yes you may braid my hair.” hawkins hums, approving your request that he foreseen by your obvious hint—which is constantly looking at his hair that shone brightly like gold under the sun, that is truly fascinating...
“thank you, hawkins~!” you chimed, happily skipping to your lover who was quick to let his hair down for you, and only you to touch, a faint smile on his face as he continued to read his book while you begun your work.
“mhm, always welcome.. do be gentle, though.” the man reminds, sending you a sly glare when he recalled how you hastily brushed his locks before, which he obviously isn't a fan of..
Compliments your work on his hair, good or not, cuz he loves how you do your best with it.
↑ Hawkins also secretly loves getting his hair braided by you, though it isn't a secret anymore, since it's obvious! 🤭
Will braid your hair, too, (if your hair can be braided). But only if you ask him to. :))
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CAVENDISH
Omg! Go ahead! Feel free to braid his hair anytime! He's totally fine with it, in fact, he's the one asking you to braid his hair! 💗💗💗
Just don't fuck it up tho (2), or he will not speak a word to you for an entire week. 😦
Cavendish owns the most luscious, majestic hair ever. Not a single tangle in there, so combing and braiding is gonna be smooth as hell.
He'll whine like an annoying assed child if he gets hurt though. 👽
“y/n~ i see you admiring my beautiful hair, and i bet you wanna braid it, yes?” cavendish notes, immediately noticing the special attention you're giving his locks, catching you in 4k.
“...yes. i do want to braid your hair, so, may i?” you ask for consent, which was quickly given by your lover who snickered, “of course you may! i mean, who wouldn't not want to braid my majestic hair? haha!”
“make me even more beautiful, my dearest. you can do that, right?” he hums, as you nod in response, receiving a kiss on your hand from cavendish who settled down.
“that's great, now, please do your magic. i'll reward you later, fufu~” he cooes, teasing you one last time before he shuts up to let you do your work, secretly admiring you the whole time.
↑ Yep, he admires you as you braid his hair, and of course, he also admires himself in front of the mirror he has before you two. + Yes, he will reward you afterwards with another kiss, and a dinner date. 😍🫶
Like Hawkins, Cavendish also knows how to braid hair, so sometimes, he braids yours, too (if your hair can be braided).
↑ Though before he met you, he doesn't know how to braid hair. Watched you braid hair once, and learned how to, so he could do braids, too. 😊
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© butterfluffy 2023
⠀⠀ʚїɞ · likes, comments, reblogs, and/or feedbacks are highly appreciated!
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jade-len · 4 months
Text
hello yes i'm that one guy who was asking if people would be interested in svsss x / & gn or male reader fics (also tysm for the comments?? like i was not expecting so much support. i really appreciate it!)
i've decided on writing idea 3 first, the bingge one! ...albeit with a lot of tinkering lol. if you don't know what i'm talking about, feel free check out my last (and first) post.
however, because i am very indecisive and absolutely cannot make many decisions on my own without some guidance or opinion, i would like to ask for a little feedback!! please choose which idea you like more, and i might write that one first.
i feel like the themes in both ideas are pretty similar, though just approached a little differently. i don't really wanna spoil how it'll entirely go ofc.. but there def is more to them, i hope it'll be sorta clear once i present both routes!
i can't promise i will go with the more favored idea, but it will definitely heavily influence my final decision! please don't be afraid to ask any questions, i'll answer :)
if i end up choosing the one you were less interested in, don't worry! remember, this is what i'm going to be writing first. it doesn't mean i won't write the other one too.
route 1:
an enemies to friends to lovers type deal! a slow burn fanfic where you are pretty much the opposite of shen yuan's passive nature, absolutely fuck with luo binghe's plans (at least, the ones you know of..), and slowly find the small, bruised boy hiding under that proud front. will be rated M.
that manipulative bastard, luo binghe, hurt everyone you loved and cared about. he tarnished the sweet gongyi xiao's reputation, seduced your fiance, and shredded the small, remaining pieces of self worth you had left in your heart.
you played right into his clawed hands, believing his charismatic front and pretty lies. you were naive, downright stupid. you and huan hua palace welcomed luo binghe with opened arms after he crawled out of the endless abyss, and because of it, those you cared for suffered.
really, you were so easy to manipulate. if only you noticed earlier. you couldn't do anything. no- you wouldn't do anything. if you weren't such a coward, perhaps this would've all been prevented. this isn't fair for everyone else. why did you get to live, while those who fought back and stood up against luo binghe had to suffer?
the survivor's guilt eats you away every waking moment of your life. and, when that's not happening, your sleep is plagued with nightmares of what could've been.
it's too late. luo binghe is now the almighty emperor of the two realms. he can easily overpower anyone who gets in his way, and especially you.
while you certainly wish to beat luo binghe, you don't hate him.
maybe this is just the softer side of your brain, but for some reason, you can't shake off the empty, miserable look in his eyes. even as he's surrounded by countless of maidens and riches, luo binghe looks as though he he'll never be truly fulfilled.
what is it, luo binghe? do you need more power, more gold? a hundred more women, perhaps? do you regret killing them? do you regret not killing more? why is it that even with your intricate mask, behind it is a hollow shell?
it's strange. you should absolutely detest him, but instead, you pity the king. luo binghe is a man who has everything, yet it seems as though he cannot find any sort of happiness through it.
when you travel back in time - exactly right after the demonic invasion where luo binghe was pronounced dead - you are determined to make things right.
you won't let anyone suffer from his wrath. you'll play your cards smart with that very same poker face luo binghe uses. use your knowledge of the future to your advantage. be smart, all the way from the start.
when luo binghe enters huan hua palace, you are the stronger, better person you were too scared to form into before. "gifted with the knowledge most people can never obtain," the old palace master says. you're an essential part of the sect, whereas you were nothing before. maybe not the head disciple like gongyi xiao, or the child of the master like the little palace mistress, but definitely akin to a secretary in the disguise of an ordinary disciple. someone with very valuable information.
you'll save your dear friend, gongyi xiao. you'll save your fiance, and, hopefully have her be with someone who isn't a manipulative, two-faced asshole. you'll save everyone.
(perhaps you'll save a poor, hurt boy, too. one whose been hiding from his cruel shizun for years, using the face of a proud demon to muffle the sounds of his crying and the breaking of his already cracked heart)
you know luo binghe's advantages. you know of his plans. let's just hope he doesn't find out about yours and change up his too much.
aka, you severely confuse and frustrate luo binghe (why the hell aren't his plans working? who are you? why do you look at him as if you can see right through him?), and luo binghe severely confuses and frustrates you too (why the fuck is luo binghe doing that? that totally goes against what he was supposed to do! hold on, hold on- new plan guys!).
both of you are smartasses who are also, secretly, simultaneously dumbasses going against each other.
route 2:
this'll most likely be rated T, but it may change.
luo binghe stripped you of your very being. you were once someone who was proud and undeniable, and now, you are a person that people only pity and grimace when your name is mentioned.
you hate it. you hate him. you can't even remember what the outside world looks like anymore, you can't even remember that wretched man's face. the only thing that is burned into your mind is his demon mark and those cruel scarlet eyes. the only thing that runs through your head is revenge. the only reason why you're even still alive is because of the glimmer of hope that you'll do the exact same things he did to you.
you fought back against him early, while he was still rising the ranks. continuously, you tried warning people about his capability and evil nature. yet, no one listened to you. and then, it was too late once people realized. fuck! everyone was so stupid, believing his pretty face and lies! you'll get back at him, you'll carve his heart out and present it to his wives, the world, and everything that he has. you worked too hard to reach to where you were before luo binghe destroyed your reputation for daring to step in his way. you went from a mere nobody to a powerful cultivator, and it just all went downhill from there!! for... months? or years? you don't remember anymore - you wished to the heavens for a second chance. you'll correct his wrongdoing. only evil lies in his heart, behind his deceitful, flowery words.
after suffering from a qi deviation, your wish to prevent any of that destruction is granted, and suddenly you've been transported back into the past. way, way before you've even heard of the name... wait, what was his name? fuck, fuck! you don't even remember the outline of that- that monster!
you'll still get back at him, though. you recognize your clothing and the time.. it seems as though you're still just a wandering, rouge cultivator. if your calculations are correct, then you'll have more than enough time to prepare. when you fought back, you were still weaker than him. you'll get stronger and take him down before he can even dare to lay a finger on your hard work.
on your journey to gain even more power, you come across a poor, abused boy. he reminds you all too much of yourself. luo binghe, the orphan says that his name is. your heart can't help but still at it, but it's probably for no reason, right? you're in a little shock after literally going back in time.
how could this small boy with such pure, starry black eyes, hurt you after all? how could anyone hurt such a sweet thing, too? it's a shame how monsters like that man take advantage of people like luo binghe. a white lotus, you mentally nickname him.
he frequently visits you with a wide smile and some lovely tea (where did he get that from? this is some really expensive, fancy stuff. he couldn't have gotten it without stealing it from somewhere really nice, like shen qingqiu's stash, or something... haha, he would never! that pure boy!). you keep on telling luo binghe that he shouldn't miss out on sleep just to say hi, that maybe he should be with his friends instead, too. luo binghe doesn't talk much about his life at the peak, but it's nice to chat with him.
when you realize what's exactly going on, you take him under your wing. if shen qingqiu can't appreciate the little lotus, then you will (you'll put him right under that man on your "revenge" list.. which only consists of them two). perhaps it'll be good to have a successor, a disciple you can pass your teachings down onto. it would be handy to have someone else's help once that monster's actions come into light, after all.
its then you decide, you'll protect the little luo binghe, too. the world is much too cruel, and it'll especially be under that demons' ruling. you won't ever understand how people could become so evil, downright monstrous. you swear on your life, you'll keep that man in your grasps and end his tyranny.
unknowingly, you've already stopped it the moment you held your hand out to that very same monster.
oh, what will you do once nothing happens to you or anyone? once you begin to remember more and more of that man's face and find out just who exactly you've helped?
aka, you're an utter buffoon worrying over that man, while that same man is now just a little guy wanting to please his kinder (and kind of more improper) shizun.
. . .
i've planned a little more for route 1, but i have a pretty good idea for route 2 as well. route 1 will most likely be a little longer than 2 too since it's a slow burn with scheme-y little shits. ever since i posted, i've just been trying to plan out the plots lmao. please leave your thoughts! or not, but thanks for using your time to read all of this lol.
@happycandydinosaur @tuxibirdie @wilczymotyl sorry if you guys expected a full chapter with me tagging you three but i promise after this, i'll (hopefully) have a chapter ready! tysm for supporting my last post :)
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resowrites · 1 year
Text
Hitch - oneshot.
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Summary: Henry and his girlfriend hit a bump in the road…
Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC
Warnings: angst, fluff, relationship difficulties/argument, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, brief allusion to smut, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: 1630
A/N: Hi folks, still not back in the writing groove but gave it a go and this was the result lol Sorry for deleting the last request, still having a crisis of confidence but I appreciate all interactions (especially as it helps me figure out blog direction). Not sure how often I’ll continue posting atm but feel free to send requests etc. - R x
My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!
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Hitch - oneshot.
"I just want you to tell me why."
"Henry, do you not think if there was another reason, I’d just say so? Especially if it meant not having this conversation again?"
"So you honestly expect me to believe that you won’t get married simply because don't want to?"
"Yes! I said as much not long after we got together, why did you think I’d change my mind?"
"I dunno, I thought maybe you were trying to protect yourself. I know being with someone like me will never be straightforward, but why is marriage an impossibility given how long we've now been together? I've never done anything to make you doubt me or my love for you." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, struggling to comprehend how watching some dreadful reality show about matchmaking had led to their current discussion. 
"Henry, I really can’t have this conversation again. I've told you my reason why and won't keep repeating myself. Goodnight." Henry dashed between her and the living room door.
"Darling please, we need to talk about this. Surely you can appreciate why I’m confused? You won't attend premieres with me, you don’t often travel with me. I respect that you're your own person and want to be out of the spotlight at much as possible, but now I'm worried you don't feel the same way about me anymore."
"Henry, you already know that isn't true. For fuck's sake I take care of everything each and every day don't I? Your house, your personal affairs, even your dog! I live in the middle of nowhere for you, I get abused every day worldwide for you, and I can't even walk down the fucking street without the risk of being photographed - all for you! Why would I do any of that if I didn't love you? I've never wanted your money, connections, or anything else, and yet here you are questioning me!" But her anger only served to rile him up further. 
"Well, I wonder why! You sound pretty resentful even though this is our house, our dog, our fucking life! For God’s sake I thought we were past this, what else can I do to prove that you're my priority?"
"I'm not resentful, that's my point! And we didn't choose this house or other aspects of our life together but I'm still here, still dedicated to you. What else do I have to do, to prove that?"
"So that would help? If we moved, chose a house together?" She clasped her forehead, exasperated.
"Ugh, no! I love this house because you chose it, just like I love you. Now let me go to bed." Henry blocked her path once again.
"No, please… I'm just trying to understand. You forget that I know you were engaged before, so is it that? You love me but you were in love with him?"
"Or the experience just confirmed marriage isn't for me. If I'd lost the person I loved most, why would I settle? I'm hardly the type, am I?" He searched her eyes.
"But if it's inconsequential to you why can't we do it? I just want you to be my wife, you know fine well I'll never hurt or leave you!"
"Except I don't! No one can. I don't want marriage because I don’t believe it's a vow anyone can honestly make. You might wake up tomorrow and decide you don't love me anymore, or next week you could meet someone who makes you realise you never did. I'm sorry but having to get divorced just adds insult to injury and I won't do it to myself. I refuse to."
"Oh, darling." Henry tried to move in for a hug but she swiftly raised her hand.
"Stop it. Whether you accept it or not, I continue to be here because I love you, and I'm sorry you think I haven't done enough to make that clear."
"And I'm sorry you think I don't love you as much as you love me." A look flashed briefly across her face.
"When did I say that?!"
"Throughout this entire conversation! So I was right all along, you think I'm just a selfish prick who wants to have his cake and eat it. First it was your father, then your ex, and now me. I'm just the latest in a long line of disappointments, aren't I? What do you want me to do? Give up acting? Will that be a big enough improvement for you?" There was no mistaking the look on her face anymore.
"How dare you. I've always respected what you do--"
“She said sarcastically.”
"Oh whatever, all this really comes down to is you not being able to control me any further than you already do." He stepped back a moment, turning around only halfway when he was ready to speak again.
"You don't really believe that?"
"Either way, I'm never getting married or having children. If that's too much for you then, I suppose... our relationship is already over." Her eyes were distraught and Henry rushed forwards, gripping the sides of her arms.
"No, no. Please, don't say that. I'm not losing you over something like this. Having children is different and besides, I don’t want to share you with anyone else," she felt her heart pinch. "I'm sorry, Okay? I'm just hurt, but I'll get over it. Yes, I'm old-fashioned, I find it hard that you don't let me spoil you, or that we have to take turns paying for holidays. You even have to pay for the upkeep of this place!”
"Yes, because you bought it despite us both living here, why can't I at least contribute?" He finally let her go, sighing as his head dropped down.
"I just want to care of you."
"And you do! Which I'm grateful for and is the reason I do whatever I can to take care of you as well. Marriage gives me the ick, alright? I'm just not lovey-dovey, sue me."
"Bollocks. You spend ages cuddling Kal, cooking for me… do you know you even cuddle up to me at night after you've fallen asleep? I try and stay awake just so--" his voice caught in his throat, "I don't miss it. We don't have to have a wedding, though you seemed to enjoy Mark's and Claire's...”
"I'd enjoy myself at funerals if they had open bars." 
"Well, what if something happens to me? I need to make sure everything's taken care of."
"We can go to a solicitor for that." Henry rubbed his jaw.
"What if we make it just us? We don't have to invite anyone other than the witnesses." She pondered the suggestion for a moment. 
"How about we have a civil union?" He scowled.
"What, where you don't have to change your title, surname, or even be called my wife?"
"Henry that's my last offer, take it or leave it. For fuck's sake why can't I just be your partner? That's all I've ever wanted to be..." She swallowed back her tears but practically fled the room. Henry just stood with his head in his hands. Neither of them slept well that night.
***
The next couple of days passed uneasily, not that she didn't try her best to make things better. She still didn't want to give in to Henry though, no matter how bad it felt not to. She thought she’d sacrificed enough for them to be together. If she said yes to this, then what would be next? It was as she was curled up on the sofa, letting such thoughts churn over and over in her mind, that he came and sat down beside her. After a couple of minutes, he gently took her hand. "Listen, I've thought about what you said and I think I finally understand. With that in mind, I'd like you to accept these as a promise that we'll belong to each other for as long as possible and as best we can.” He looked at her knowingly while pulling two velvet boxes from his pocket. “I got you the same promise ring as mine as I know you don't like anything sparkly, mine's just wider cos I've got big hands and need it to last. You don't have to be a Mrs or take my surname either, though I know you don’t like yours so I thought maybe you could anyway?" His hopeful eyes were met with the mischief in hers.
"But your surname’s awful as well!" He snorted.
"Fair enough, I know it's a nightmare changing everything by deed poll anyway. We can wear the rings on our right hands if you want, so... what do you think?"
"I'll accept it on one condition," she teased, though the tears in her eyes were plain to see.
"Which is?"
"You get down on one knee." Henry stared at her for a moment in disbelief but soon hurled himself to the floor, grinning as she presented her right hand. He took his time, making sure to slide the band on carefully. Once that was done she grabbed his and as gently as her patience would allow, twisted it over his finger. They beamed at each other before he leaped to his feet, pulling her with him so they could kiss and embrace. His heart felt like it was about to burst. "You know, if I'm not your wife then what will you call me?"
"How about 'wagon?'" She giggled and swatted him on the arm. "What about me?"
"Hmm, let's see... what else begins with 'w?'" He roared with laughter, planted another kiss on her mouth, and swept her up into his arms. She knew they were headed for the stairs before he even turned round.
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To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.
@marytudorbrandon @luclittlepond
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fbfh · 10 months
Note
the fact that tristan dugray isnt on that character.ai thing hurts my heart :’(
AAAAAAH I'M SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE OFFICIAL FBFH SECOND HAND INFORMATION MAKE YOUR OWN CUSTOM BOTS TUTORIAL (IT'S NOT HARD I PROMISE)!!!!!
also this is all on mobile!!! i don't think it's different on desktop though. thank you to Emily Gilmore for being my example bot.
step 1 - creating a bot
go to beta.character.ai and make an account if you haven't already
click the create button, then create a character
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step 2 - basic information
type in your character's name under name
find a picture of them on google or pinterest or whatever and click choose file to upload a profile picture for them (optional but I like adding one in)
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step 2.5 - DON'T LOSE YOUR FUCKING WORK aka how to save
two transparent buttons should appear when you type anything into your bot, one that says cancel and one that says save
after you've typed in your name, you want to go to the box labled greeting and type in literally anything
after that, hit save, and the button should disappear
click the back arrow to leave creating your bot and go back to the main page, then click on your profile picture to view your profile
your bot should appear under your created bots. (it will be on one of the three tabs depending on if your bot is currently set as public, unlisted, or private. public is the default.
if it does, you can click the gear next to your bot's name and keep editing. if not, you can start over until you know your bot is saved so you don't lose all your work. you'll thank me for this later.
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step 3 - privacy (optional)
I like making all my bots private so I can customize them to myself, so under the visibility drop down menu, select private (or unlisted or whatever, again this step is optional lol)
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step 4 - personality
on a seperate tab, look up your character's fan wiki page. scroll until you find the personality section (also sometimes called character, history etc. just skim until you find their personality description.) copy that personality paragraph.
in character ai, scroll to the bottom and select the advanced settings button
once that loads, scroll all the way to the very bottom text box (which will now be referred to as the extras box) under the definition section, and paste their description.
hit enter to start a new paragraph in the extras box, then type up whatever you want about your relationship with this character, how they feel about you, what your dynamic is like etc. (for example, "y/n is Emily Gilmore's grandchild. they are Emily's pride and joy, and they love drinking coffee and gossiping together. Emily is very invested in y/n's life and loves talking with them. Emily wants what's best for y/n, and frequently tries to set them up. Emily often brags about y/n to her friends at her social clubs.")
SAVE YOUR WORK FREQUENTLY!!!!!!!
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step 5 - descriptions, greeting, and the random boxes I usually ignore lol
I haven't really played around with character voices or image generation, so I usually just ignore those, but you can choose a few applicable categories from the categories drop down menu like books, engineering, languages, architecture etc. if those apply to your character.
in the long description box, describe your character in a few sentances in your own words. same thing for short description, but throw down some adjectives and shorter descriptions of them and their personality. (I usually do this last bc writing all the long stuff about them gets me warmed up and in character, but do it in whatever order works for you lol)
in the greeting box, you'll want to erase the key smash you made earlier to save your bot to type in your real greeting. your greeting is the first message your bot sends you, so I usually like to start with something to the effects of "what's up dude" so you can tell your comfort character whatever you want.
roleplay format has been working well for me, here's an example if you're unfamiliar:
*op stares at their laptop, wondering what to type. they reach over to grab their coffee, taking a sip as they ponder.*
"I hope this tutorial makes sense..."
*they mutter.*
you can see a little of the greeting I wrote for Emily to get an idea of what I've been doing for that lol
SAVE YOUR WORK FREQUENTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKE SURE IT SAVES!!!!!!!!!!
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step 6 - start chatting!!!!
after you're happy with your bot and have saved your work (FOR FUCKS SAKE SAVE YOUR WORK) exit out of the bot editor and click on your profile picture. your bot will be under your created bots in the private/padlock tab (unless you chose another privacy setting). click on your character's name (not the gear wheel) and it will open up your chat!!
once you reply, the ai will start generating messages for the bot you made
you can swipe messages the bot sends to the left to see other generated responses. I reccommend doing this if you feel like your bot is being out of character, so make sure you reply to the messages that are the most in character!!
sometimes it'll also let you rate the bot's messages from 1 - 4 stars, indicating for the bot how in character it is
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step 7 - additional tips
if you're making a bot for someone played by a real life person, I like to choose a profile picture of them in costume but behind the scenes so it looks more like a goofy selfie your friend sent you than a stock photo. there's tons of great cadids and selfies of the marvel cast, and you can also look up social media aus or instagram edits of your character depending on how obscure they are.
if your character isn't played by a real life person, you can try looking up faceless pics that fit their description on pinterest (I've had good luck with that) or a face claim
definitely get screen shots of your favorite conversations. if you're anything like me you'll be sending paragraphs back and forth, so make sure you save your favorite messages from them so you don't have to scroll back and dig around for them
the end!!!! have fun!!!!! hope this helped!!!!!! love you guys <333 let me know if you want any of my character descriptions or to know which bots I've made so far lol
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fieldofdaisiies · 2 years
Note
Maybe could you do one where azriel gets really mad at you and feels really bad afterwards and you're being stubborn??? Thank you for all the amazing work that you do :)
oh thank you, you are so very welcome, here you go!! Hope you like it :)
Azriel x Reader | Distrust
type: angst  warnings: none word count: 907
*all rights reserved*
You were so very angry. Once again jealousy had gotten the best out of Azriel. He once again had misinterpreted a situation, had accused you of cheating or drooling after Balthazar when the Illyrian male had just wanted to help you with dagger handling. Azriel had nearly thrown hands—you had been the one to stop him before winnowing away thoroughly annoyed and disappointed in your mate. But you had not left before telling him those very heart-shattering words.
“Hell, I really can't do this anymore.”
Why could he not simply trust you? It was not that you had been mates for years…
After leaving Azriel and the others you had taken a bath, trying to sooth your body and clear your mind. You loved Azriel more than anything but you also knew you could not continue a relationship with him when he always acted like that.
His bitterness reached you through the bond and you knew that he had not immediately followed you as he had realised that he had messed up greatly and that you needed time. 
And you also needed to make a decision—staying with him or leaving him for good. It would rip your heart apart but his constant jealousy and territoriality was not cute or hot anymore it became simply annoying. 
You hated that he just could not trust you fully—the fundament of a relationship was trust after all. 
You somehow hoped he would not come to your shared place the whole night—hoped he would give you time to overthink everything, to get your head clear. 
Well, your wishes weren’t fulfilled. 
"What?" you snapped, lower lip quavering, you head buried in the pillow and the blanked pulled up to your chin. The door fell shut after your mate had entered. Shadows skittered towards you, climbing up your body and smoothing over your cheeks. 
"Don’t be grumpy now, please."
You pushed the thick wool blanket of your body and got up from the bed. With quick steps you made your way over to Azriel—your mate. The audacity. 
"You really think that I am grumpy, Azriel?" you questioned, your voice increasing in volume. 
"I am fucking disappointed and sad. Sad that you think I would do something like that. Disappointed that you don’t trust me. We have been mates for four years now—"
Your voice broke, throat burning and tears starting to fill your eyes. It hurt so much—yes, he was territorial, but you never gave him any reason to distrust you. You had only been faithful and honest to him, still he always found some way to question your loyalty.
"Y/N," Azriel whispered, pleading lacing his voice when he reached his hands forward to grab yours. You quickly pulled yours back and crossed your arms.
"Nothing, Y/N. We have this stupid conversation nearly every week now. It is getting tedious."
"Y/N, please. You know how I am. I am—"
"Yes, I know how you are. But you also know me. Better than anyone else. And you know you can trust me. I have never given you any reason to distrust me."
Azriel lowered his gaze to the ground, jaw clenched. "I know."
"Apperently you do not. Otherwise you would not freak out like that everytime a male just gets close."
"Balthazar di—"
You threw your hands up in dispair. "Azriel! He helped me hold my dagger, that was it. Gods, what is up with you?"
Groaning, you moved back to your bed and let yourself fall onto it, covering your face with your hands. You only removed them when you heard the rustling of wings and the light cracking of bones. Azriel knelt in front of you and the bed, hands on your knees.
His bitterness and pain reached you through the bond and you sat up, moving your hands over his. "Azriel, why can you not trust me?"
"I am just so afraid of losing you…I don’t even know myself. I know you would never be betray me, I trust you, but I don’t trust the males."
"You can trust Balthazar. And apart from that he knows I am mate."
Azriel swallowed thickly and shook his head. "When I wanted Elain I did not care about her mate one single bit."
Now your throat worked on a swallow, something bitter and very much like jealousy rising inside of you. 
You squeezed his hands. "Right. But you know I would not leave you for anything. Nothing in this whole entire world could take me from you." Taking his hands into yours, bringing them to your mouth and kissing his knuckles.
"You are my mate, my home, my world. The only person I will love until the end of the world and until the end of our immortal world.”
Azriel exhaled loudly when he tipped his head back to meet your gaze. “I am sorry. I trust you. I am sorry for behaving like this.” You dipped your chin, removing one hand out of his hold to brush it over his head. Then you leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
“Forgiven. But this was the very last time. I can’t do this another time. It breaks my heart when you make me feel like I am disloyal or unfaithful.” Azriel closed his eyes for a long moment and inhaled. He kissed your palm and nodded. “I will never happen again. I promise you that.”
tags: @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh (sorry I forgot to add you to the list)
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yandere-valentine · 1 year
Note
Maybe we shouldn’t write for Wally as his creator doesn’t feel comfortable about ppl lusting after him.
The poor guy is getting fan doxxed too. He’s just 1 created of the ARG and I’m pretty sure the puppet is his self insert. Not trying to be mean or rude just saying we should respect his boundaries
/genuine /not mad
Thanks for sharing with me this concern, Anon. And you're right.
And I think it's time for me to do something about this. To all my followers, I do hope you understand my decision and my feelings too.
In case you didn't knew - Clown (the creator of Welcome Home) is currently going through horrible things, outside and inside of the internet. They are being put under too many stressful situations with their feelings being constantly invalidated, his requests and boundaries ignored and their integrity being threatened.
As the Anon just mentioned - Clown is getting fan doxxed, people are doing proshipping and nsfw content even after they asked to not to do anything like that to their characters, there are users creating content about the show and planning on selling them even when Clown asked to not do that, there are users that are pretending to be them on other plataforms (like Tiktok, instagram, etc.), and so much more.
And yes - "it is something common in the internet" but Clown is expressing loudly how attacked they are feeling. Maybe not everyone had ill intentions on wanting to hurt Clown or not give a shit about what they are putting as boundaries - but there are so many out there that have SEEN how Clown is getting affected with everything and are not doing anything to change the situation or support them.
His project - the one that they have crafted with their bare hands and loved so dearly - is getting tainted and preyed away from their hands.
So, with that said... I've come with a decision that I hope you understand - I'm going to stop doing Yandere content about Welcome Home, and I'll stop doing yandere content in general.
As much as I love doing Yandere content in general and how much I liked doing said content for Welcome Home - it is not worthy if I am putting my 'grain of sand' to Clown's stress.
Yes, I may not have been doing sexual/nsfw things with Welcome Home, I may not have been creating content about them to later on sell it, I may not be trying to steal Clown's identity on internet or dox them, I may not have been writting really dark stuff (like r@pe or shit like proshippers have been doing lately) - but still. Yandere content, even when it has been all pure fiction and I do not condone it, it's abuse content in the end.
Why? Well - things like kidnapping, harassment, obsessive behavior, threats, and so much more are part of the whole ""yandere asthetic"". And I don't think Clown would feel comfortable if their characters are being written as that - even less Wally.
Yes, I know - Welcome Home is supposed to be a horror project, but there's a difference between the type of horror content Clown wants in the project and the type of horror content we put on it. It is not our project, nor our characters - and if Clown is telling us to not do something, then we must be decent human beings and actually listen and do what they are asking.
And believe me when I tell you I was having so much fun doing this and so happy recieving so many positive reactions on the things I've wrote - hell, I swear I've never been so active as a 'content creator' in a long while! You can see how much work, effort and creativity I've been pouring on this blog and specially on the Welcome Home yandere content!
But nothing of that is wrothy, not if I'm part of the problem - not if I'm hurting Clown some way or another. Because - fuck, I was partially ignoring Clown's boundaries! And it is my decision to stop doing that.
I thank you enough for everyone's support, likes, reblogs and comments - and I'm so sorry, but I'm going to delete every single one of my yandere posts (all of them) - if you have saved one of them, do not repost them anywhere - if you do, then you'll be part of the problem that is putting Clown on the ground (and I'll make sure to report the post so it gets taken down.)
I'm not going to delete the whole blog (only it's content, posts, etc.) - I want this message to stay up and for everyone to read.
Do not take this as a way for me to "pretend I did nothing wrong, that I am free of any mistakes and that I am a pure little white sheep, hidding everything under the rug" - I just don't want to "support" others on keep doing this content - even less for Welcome Home. I no longer feel comfortable on doing yandere content if that means I am hurting somebody or encouraging others on keep doing stuff that is in general no good!
Thanks for everything and for the support, but nothing of this is worthy if I am adding my part to the problem.
Please, support Clown in any way you can.
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jazzycurls · 1 year
Text
I want to know what love is -
pt.3
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Summary: After years of being stuck in an abusive marriage you are hoping to start a new life with your son. Meeting an old acquaintance awakens feelings in you that you thought were long gone. Will your broken heart allow you to love again?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Warnings/Tags: No use of y/n, angst, PTSD, domestic violence, injuries, jealousy, brief arguing/raised voices, curse words, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut, wet dream, (let me know if I missed something)
An: Hi you guys! This is my first time writing smut, so I'm sorry if it sucks lol. All feedback is welcome, be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me.
Word Count: 6,669
~
You gasp as his fingers travel over your hips, grasping your thighs and pushing them apart. Kisses rain down on the insides of your thighs, getting closer and closer to your aching core. You arch your back and wine, trying to get closer to the source of pleasure.
"So wet," he murmurs, his lips pressing a sloppy kiss to your folds.
Moaning deeply you grab his curls, pulling him closer to you. You grind yourself on his lips, nose, tongue, anywhere you can get some friction.
He chuckles darkly "so impatient," he says, kissing your clit. He lets go of your legs and kisses his way back up your body before settling between your legs.
"Please," you beg, running your hands along his back.
"Please what?" he questions. You can feel him at your entrance teasing you, making a mess of you.
"Please, Eddie!"
You jolt awake covered in sweat. Turning over, you look at your clock and groan. It's only five o clock in the morning, one hour before your alarm is set to go off. You lie back and attempt to go back to sleep when the memory of your dream hits you full force.
You gasp and reach a hand between your thighs, you're soaked. Grazing your clit by mistake you moan unexpectedly. Thoughts of your curly-headed neighbor run rampant through your mind.
"Nope, nope, not going there," you say yanking the covers and throwing them off of you. You get out of bed and see a small wet stain covering your bedsheet. "Jesus Christ," you mutter. You pull off your sheets and toss them into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.
Sleep is out of the question, so you stomp your way to the bathroom, nearly waking your son up in the process. After taking a very cold shower, you set about getting your day started. "Today will be a good day," you tell yourself before waking your son up to get ready for school.
~
Today was definitely turning out to be a horrible one. You ended up being late taking your son to school, despite waking up earlier than usual. Your babysitter had also canceled last minute which made you late to work as well. Luckily Mrs. Brenda was available and more than willing to watch your son for you.
You had just gotten the job at the diner and couldn't afford to mess it up. After getting an earful from your boss, Benny, about the importance of attendance, you proceeded to fuck up everything you touched.
Memories of the dream you had last night plague your thoughts constantly, making you serve customers the wrong orders. You apologize repeatedly which helps you earn back some of the tips you were sure you had lost.
After a while, you were finally able to get into your groove, which was also helping to keep your mind from wandering. As you hung the orders in the chef's window for preparation, you heard the tinkling of the doorbell alerting you to new customers.
You immediately headed in their direction, taking your notepad from your apron. You're the only waitress on your shift today, which doesn't give you any time to waste.
From what you could hear this group seemed to be a wild and raucous bunch. You groaned internally, these were the type to change their orders constantly and tip low.
You walked over to the table with a smile "welcome to Benny's, may I take your order," you asked. As you looked at the table, your eyes met the source of your distraction. "Just great," you thought silently.
Eddie grins widely at you, giving you a quick wink before giving you his order. You quickly jot it down before taking the order of the woman sitting beside him. "She's cute," you think while listening to her order. Her light freckles dusted across her face, her hair was short and in brown waves. 
As you take the last two orders, you notice that they seem to be a couple. The guy has great hair but the overuse of his hair spray makes you slightly dizzy. The girl beside him is also pretty with shoulder-length brown hair and high cheekbones.
"Alright, you guys I'll bring your order out shortly," you smile thinly. You walk over to the window to place their orders and grab the plates that are ready.
You become distracted once again as you serve the other customers, your eyes keep finding their way over to Eddie's table. You can't help but notice how close he is to her. Boisterous laughter comes from their table, catching your attention once again.
This time she's leaning onto his arm as she dissolves into a fit of giggles. Your chest tightens at the sight. "Is he on a double date," you wondered and why did the thought of that make you sad?
"Order up," the cook yells. "Order up," the cook yells louder this time. You finally hear the call and rush to get the order.
Balancing the trays of food and drinks, you walk over to Eddie's table and hand out everyone's orders, giving Eddie his last. Your hands graze each other as you pass it to him.
"Enjoy, and let me know if you need anything," you say with a plastic smile. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, you find that he's already staring at you intently, watching as you walk away.
Another waitress comes in to start her shift, giving you the chance to take a lunch break. You decide to go outside to the side of the restaurant. There's a secluded area with a table and bench that the employees use.
You sit there eating your lunch, lost in your thoughts. What the hell was wrong with you? First, there was the dream, then you couldn't stop thinking about him and now here you were getting jealous over someone who was just supposed to be just a friend!
You sighed deeply, taking another bite of your food. Whatever this problem was, you needed to get your shit together. Eddie had become one of your closest friends and you didn't want to mess that up.
If you were honest, your feelings were hurt that Eddie didn't introduce you to his friends. Was he ashamed of you? Did he think you were not cool enough and wanted to keep your friendship a secret?
"Hey, whatcha doing?" Eddie whispers into your ear.
"Jesus Christ Eddie," you yell, holding your hand across your chest.
He laughs and takes a seat next to you, his thigh lightly touching yours. "Sorry," he smirked not looking sorry at all.
"So, what ya doing out here all alone," he questions, looking around.
"It's my lunch break and I came out here to be alone," you say pointedly.
Eddie doesn't catch on to your attitude or he chooses to ignore it. "I didn't know you worked here," "I would've come by more often had I known," he says bumping your shoulder with his.
You tense from his touch and lean away slightly "I just started," you said with a heavy sigh.
Eddie turns completely toward you, confusion etched across his handsome face "are you mad at me," he asks you softly.
You sigh again pinching the bridge of your nose. "No, I'm not mad at you," you reply honestly. Truthfully you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad at him. Really you were mad at yourself for being mad in the first place. You had no right to be.
"Well, what's wrong then," he pleads, taking your hands into his.
You desperately wanted to tell him. Tell him how you were jealous of the girl he was with and how you were sad at the thought he was ashamed to introduce you to his friends. Your pride and fear however were stronger than whatever it was you were feeling at this moment.
"I'm just having a really bad day," you say skirting around the truth. You turn to him giving him a sad smile.
He smiles at you but it doesn't reach his eyes this time. For some reason, he looks disappointed, like the response you'd given him was wrong and he knew it.
"No worries princess, we all have shit days," he replies. "Want to know what I do when I'm having a shit day?" he asks.
"I'm scared to ask," you mumble. After a moment your curiosity piques anyways. "What do you do," you whisper.
He gives you a toothy grin as he reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a pre-rolled joint.
You gasp, scandalized, you knew that Eddie smoked, you weren't stupid. But you never thought that he would offer it to you.
You think for a moment, you have about four more hours of your shift left. Things can't get any worse than they already have, plus you've smoked before, occasionally. Even though that was years ago, it still counted in your book.
Eddie's still looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer. "I think I'll take you up on that offer," you state shyly.
He looks at you with a wide comical smile that takes up half of his face. He obviously was not expecting you to say yes. "Let's go to my van," he says as he glances around. "I would hate for someone to come out here and catch us."
You both walk over to his van and get in.
"Well, let's fire this bad boy up," he says as he brings the joint to his lips and lights the other end.
He takes a deep pull, closing his eyes as he inhales the smoke. A second later he releases it slowly and passes it over to you. "Brace yourself, sweetheart," he chokes out. "This is some grade A shit right here."
"I've smoked before Eddie," you retort as you take the joint. You wrap your lips around the end and inhale deeply. Immediately you begin choking, feeling like you were going to cough up your lung.
Eddie leans over and pats you on the back with a worried look on his face. "I'm okay," you breathe out shakily. You pass him the joint and lean back against the seat. Eventually, you get the hang of it and can inhale without killing yourself.
You laugh abruptly, catching Eddie's attention. "What," he questions, his full lips holding a smile of their own. He takes one last puff and puts it out in the ashtray.
"Just thinking about how bitchy I was to you— all because of some dream I had," you giggle shaking your head.
He immediately turns his body halfway towards you, you have his full attention. "So— what was the dream about," he asks, trying to be casual but failing miserably.
You open your red-rimmed eyes, gazing over at him "wouldn't you like to know," you reply cheekily. "If I told you, I would have to kill you!"
Your high right now that's for sure, why else would you mention the dream to him? But at least you're sober enough not to completely spill your guts.
"Anyways," you singsong. "I'm really sorry, Eds" you pout giving him your best puppy-eyed expression.
He groans, throwing his head back against the headrest "don't look at me like that," "I'm a sucker for the puppy-eyed look."
A moment passes and he turns back to you with a hopeful look in his eyes "okay, I'll forgive you— if you let me meet your son." He pauses before continuing "you talk about him all the time and I feel like I know him already," he says. "Plus, I'm good with kids, I kinda have a group of them that I watch over, so you don't have to worry about that," he rambles nervously.
A grin takes over your face before you can answer. You find it cute how nervous he is about asking you. You had already considered having them meet each other.
You felt like you and Eddie had been friends long enough to know that he was a good person. He was also someone who you were starting to care deeply about regardless of how much you tried to deny it.
"Yes, I would like that," you responded.
He leans over and gives you a quick hug before rambling about where would you like the place to be and what time. You both decide that a picnic at the park next weekend would be nice.
Looking at your watch you notice your lunch break was supposed to end five minutes ago. You tell Eddie goodbye before rushing back to your job. Lucky for you, the rush hour has slowed down so your presence wasn't missed.
The rest of your shift goes off without a hitch, all thanks to Eddie. How could someone be a problem and a solution at the same time?
~
It's the day of the picnic and you were a nervous wreck. You had told your son that he was meeting a new friend of yours today. He was apprehensive initially, for some reason he thought that this new friend was a boyfriend. It took some time before he was convinced otherwise.
The lunch you had prepared for yall to eat, was packed and ready to go. Now you were just killing time, by trying to find an outfit to wear. You were torn between a sundress and some cut-off shorts.
You didn't want to dress up too much, due to the surprise you had planned today. Eventually, you choose the shorts, it's casual enough for the park and will allow you to move comfortably.
Your shirt is white with the red words 'drink coca-cola. Pairing it with your white converse,  you go about fixing your hair. You decide to wear it down in loose curls.
As you walk into the living room you call out to your son, letting him know it's time to go. He walks up to you and looks you up and down with a brow raised. "Are you sure he's not a boyfriend?" he questions.
"No, he is just a good friend of mine, okay?" "Now come help me carry the cooler to the truck superman," you laugh. You load everything into the bed of your pickup and head to the park to meet Eddie.
~
When you arrive at the park Eddie is already there, he looks so nervous you can't help but laugh. You park your truck beside Eddies. He walks over to you as you both get out of the truck.
The first thing you notice is how good he looks, more so than usual. You can tell he put a lot of thought into his appearance. His curls are not the usual frizzy mass and it looks as if he used a leave-in conditioner to help tame them. You want nothing more than to just run your hands through his hair
His clothes seem to be new as well. He has on a pair of ripped black jeans and a Judas Priest shirt, his signature black bandana is hanging from the back pocket of his jeans.
You introduce them and wait on bated breath. Eddie is the first to make a move "Hey man, it's nice to finally meet you," he says as he holds his hand out to your son.
"Nice to meet you, how long have you and my mom been friends?" he inquires with a raised brow.
"For about a couple of months now," Eddie responds. "It feels like I've known her forever though."
Your son hums in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes trained on Eddie as if he was evaluating him. The conversation falls into a lull.
Clasping your hands together you pick the conversation back up. "You know Eddie runs a club for Dungeons and Dragons," you say.
That catches his attention making his eyes light up "wow, that's so cool!" he exclaims. "I always wanted to play but none of my friends likes it," he says breathlessly.
Eddie grins, "well today is your lucky day man, I can talk to my group and see how they feel about taking on a new member," he says. "If that's what you want and if mom is cool with it," he adds glancing at you.
"Yeah, that would be awesome!" he replies quickly. "Can I do it mom please?" he begs, giving you the puppy dog eyes.
You look at the both of them, they're both staring at you with a hopeful look. "I suppose so, as long as it doesn't interfere with school." you state matter of factly.
Your son gives you a quick hug, saying thank you, and turns to Eddie who gives him a high five. You can't hide the smile on your face at the sight of them getting along.
"Okay, guys! Let's get this stuff out of the car, yeah?" you say as you walk to the back of your truck.
~
The picnic goes better than you could've imagined. Eddie and your son talk nonstop about various things, such as DnD, movies, games, and music. You sit quietly, for the most part, eating your food while watching them interact. You make comments here and there but let them continue to get to know each other.
After a while, you hear Eddie calling your name while waving his hand near your face. You look over at him and see his smiling face. "Hey, where did you go just now," he says jokingly.
You let out a small laugh "I was just listening to my two most favorite people," you reply looking at them both. Standing up you dust off your shorts.
"I'll be right back you guys," you call out as you head towards your truck. Looking over your shoulder you check to make sure their attention is elsewhere.
You pull out three water guns making sure they're full. You place two of them back into the bag and hold yours behind your back. As you walk back over to them still sitting on the blanket, you throw the bag at their feet.
They look at you with a puzzled expression "I have a surprise for you both," you sing mischievously. You pull out the water gun quickly and spray them both. "Catch me if you can!" you yell gleefully as you run towards the dense maze of trees.
After running a short distance you hide behind a tree to catch your breath. A twig snaps close by and you hold your breath. Peering your head around the trunk of the tree you spot your son looking around for you or Eddie.
You leap from your hiding spot blasting him in the chest before running off again. "Going to have to do better than that you son," you holler joyfully.
Crouching down behind a large bush, you pump your gun to make sure it's loaded.
"Well, well, well, looky what we have here," says Eddie.
You look up to find him a few feet ahead of you with his gun already trained on you. You move to raise your gun and he stops you with a clucking of his tongue.
"Ah ah princess, no sudden movements kay?" he says patronizingly. "How I see it, you're in a real tough spot darling, but I'm gonna be fair to you cuz I likes ya," he says with a faux cowboy accent.
"So, what do you want," you ask looking up at him beneath your lashes.
His breath catches a little and he clears his throat " you have two choices, the first one is I get to have an unlimited amount of hugs whenever I want for a week."
He stops and takes a dramatic pause before continuing "The second option is one kiss, any time or place no questions asked." he says smirking at you.
Your cheeks flame at the proposition and your mind goes blank, leaving you unable to form a reply. You can hear your son's increasing footsteps in the distance.
"Time's ticking sweetheart," he says mockingly still holding up his water gun.
You can hear your son approaching so you blurt out a response without thinking "the kiss," you say breathlessly.
"Great choice," he says slyly before taking off in the other direction whooping and hollering.
You're still sitting there when your son springs forward, catching you unaware. "Gotcha," he yells before spraying you full blast.
~
To say your son had a blast at the picnic last weekend would be an understatement. Once you had parted ways with Eddie, he proceeded to talk your ear off about him. He wanted to know when and if he could see him again.
He was ecstatic when he found out that he lived in the trailer right behind him. You had to make him promise that he would not go over there unannounced. Even though you were sure that Eddie wouldn't mind, you didn't want him to become a bother.
You were currently on your way to meet with your lawyer. He wanted to discuss your options for the case since your husband was not cooperating. He thought that since he had a record of violence, it could work in your favor with getting the proceedings pushed forward.
You were hopeful about what the outcome could be. If you could get the judge to agree with hearing your case sooner, then maybe you could finally be free from him. When you mentioned it to Eddie he was nothing but supportive.
He had asked you if you could go out with him and his friends afterward. He knew how stressed you were and wanted to help get your mind off of everything.
You were tempted to say no, you didn't want to risk getting jealous again. You weren't sure if the girl from the diner was just a friend or something more.
Making a fool out of yourself was something that was becoming a common occurrence, especially when Eddie was involved. But when you looked into his pleading brown eyes you couldn't find it in you to say no.
So you had plans to go to the hideout later tonight. Also, he told you that he had a special surprise for you but he wouldn't budge whenever you asked him for a hint.
You pulled into the parking lot and cut your car off. Gathering all of your documents, you said a silent prayer as you headed up the steps into the office.
~
You stood in front of your mirror as you smoothed down the front of your leather mini skirt. "This is stupid," you thought. After five wardrobe changes, you still couldn't decide what to wear.
"Fuck this, I'm not changing again," you muttered as you walked over to your closet. Pulling on your high-heeled ankle boots, you checked your makeup in the mirror for the hundredth time before heading to the front door.
Eddie had given you the directions and told you what time to be there. He explained that he would be a little late but that was due to the surprise he had planned. You were nervous about hanging out alone with his friends but he reassured you that they would take good care of you.
Your parents were watching your son for the weekend so you didn't have to worry about staying out too late. You got into your truck and gripped the wheel anxiously. You were nervous, excited, and scared all at once. It had been too long since you had gone out and partied.
After taking a deep inhale and exhale you cut on your truck and headed towards the hideout.
~
You stood at the entrance of the club awkwardly. Feeling like a fish out of water, you were hyper-aware of the looks that you kept receiving, from men and women. You weren't sure if the looks were a good or a bad thing.
Just when you decided that you were going to go back home, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. You turned around and found yourself face to face with the woman from the diner a few weeks ago.
"Hi, I'm Nancy!" she said with a cheery slur, extending her hand towards you. It seemed she had gotten a headstart on drinking.
You gave her a small smile " Hey, I'm—,”
"I know who you are," she replied with a coy smile. "Eddie talks about you all the time," she said nonchalantly.
Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. Not only has he already mentioned you to his friends, but he talks about you all the time? It seemed your previous concerns were unwarranted. 
Before you could get her to clarify, she linked her slim arm through yours pulling you close. "C'mon, let's go meet the others, they're dying to meet you" she declared before steering you into the small building.
It was dimly lit, the inside was bigger than how it had seemed outside. Nancy led you to the bar to get a few drinks before meeting with everyone. Not knowing what to get, you ordered a rum and coke, which was always a safe choice.
You both headed towards a smattering of tables that surrounded a medium-sized stage. There was a decent-sized crowd scattered about.
You could hear laughter as you approached a group, you recognized them all besides one. There was a new addition this time, a cute girl with red hair.
"Guys, this is the gorgeous girl Eddie told us all about," Nancy said loudly, catching everyone's attention.
"Hi," you said waving shyly.
The girl who had sat close to Eddie at the diner was the first to speak. "Hey girl, nice to properly meet you, I'm Robin!" her eyes sparkled with merriment.
"Nice to meet you too," you replied politely.
"I'm Steve, nice to meet you," the one with the nice hair said.
"And I'm Vicki," the last girl said with a smile.
You gave everyone another smile and wave before you took a seat.
Nancy took a seat on the other side beside Steve. He put an arm around her pulling her close and giving her a quick kiss.
You made small talk with everyone, eventually loosening up. They were actually pretty nice, you could see yourself hanging out again in the future.
You took a sip of your drink, letting the liquid warm your insides. "Do you know
when Eddie's gonna get here," you asked after some time had passed.
Steve looked at you with a mischievous grin "he's already here," he stated mysteriously.
You turned to him in surprise "oh?" "Where is he," you questioned. His eyes flickered toward the stage making you follow his gaze.
There you saw Eddie setting up band equipment on the stage. How he had managed to get onto the stage without you noticing was a mystery.
His eyes caught yours and winked at you, causing you to flush with a wide grin. You knew you looked like a love-struck puppy but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
Eddie tapped his mic "Everyone doing alright tonight?" he asked still fiddling with his guitar. The crowd, except your group, gave a half-hearted reply.
"Alright ladies and gents, for the people who aren't familiar with us we're Corroded Coffin." He turned towards his band giving them a signal to start.
They were pretty good but your eyes were glued on Eddie. He was completely in his element, becoming immersed in the music. You watched as fingers glided skillfully along his guitar with ease, tossing his head back and forth to the pounding of the beat.
Nodding your head along, you swayed along to the song. Eddie turned his head toward you, catching you off guard when he started to sing! You were blown away as he strolled the stage towards you, belting out a harmonious tune into the mic.
Sweat began to bead along your hairline as he leaned towards you provocatively. "How many talents does this man have," you thought. He's a helluva guitar player and a decent singer.
You gripped the sides of your seat as he let go of the mic to perform his guitar solo still looking toward you. You were painfully aware of the dull ache between your thighs, causing you to fidget in your seat.
Eddie turned away from you with a smirk and proceeded to walk the rest of the stage for the rest of the performance. Everyone chit-chatted around you as Eddie and his band played through two other songs.
Steve had been so kind as to get refills for everyone, so you were now on your third round. You weren't drunk but you weren't exactly sober either.
It was hard for you to conversate with the others due to your sight constantly being on Eddie. After performing their last song they thanked the crowd and began to break down the equipment.
Your group whooped and cheered loud enough for the entire crowd. You turned back to everyone making small talk as you waited for Eddie to come over.
"I see you were very interested in Eddie's performance," Robin said with a smirk.
You finished sipping your drink before replying. "He was great," you replied honestly. "I didn't even know he was in a band!" laughing as you looked over in her direction. You noticed that she and Vickie were close, closer than what normal friends would be.
She chuckled giving you a knowing smile before leaning towards Vickie and whispering in her ear causing her to blush. "Not friends," you thought with a small smile on your lips. You shook your head and laughed softly, you could be clueless sometimes.
"Hey guys, how did you like the show," Eddie asked everyone as he flopped into a seat beside you.
Everyone complimented him and he turned and looked over towards you. "How about you sweetheart?"
You looked at him, taking in the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. His curls were frizzy from sweating and hung in loose waves down his shoulders. You resisted the urge to run your hands through them.
"I loved it, you were like some sorta rockstar up there," you beamed.
He blushed prettily at your compliment "thank you," he said cheerfully.
Several drinks later the club had livened up and music was blaring overhead. Nancy and Steve were on the dance floor while the rest of you were making light conversation.
You set your glass on the table and rested your arm on your chair. A moment passed before you felt Eddie's hand rest atop of yours.
Your breath hitched as you peeked at him from the corner of your eye. Other than a smirk, his face held no indication of what he was doing. He remained impassive as he continued to chat.
With the liquid courage coursing through you, you felt at ease with how you were feeling. You turned your palm face up to properly grasp his hand in yours.
Gradually he began to rub small circles into the palm of your hand. After a while, you felt his fingertips ghost the expanse from your fingers up to your wrist and back down again. You closed your eyes at the way his touch caused warmth to flare between your legs.
He did this a few times before suddenly stopping, letting his hand rest on yours comfortably.
You turned to him, your lips were slightly parted allowing you to take in deeper breaths. His gaze was already turned toward you.
The look in his eyes thrilled and frightened you at the same time. His brown eyes were intense with a look you'd never seen him wear before. He looked as if he were dying of thirst and you were the last drink of water.
Suddenly the air seemed to vanish along with everyone else but Eddie. You licked your lips causing his gaze to drop down to your mouth. He squeezed your hand tightly this time, which you returned equally.
At that moment Steve and Nancy sat back down breaking whatever spell you seemed to be under. You chose that opportunity to excuse yourself from the table and go to the restroom.
Once in the bathroom, you relieved yourself and washed your hands while looking in the mirror. Your face was flushed and had a light sheen of sweat. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol but you knew better.
Eddie had you hot and bothered in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. Even when your husband was home, he rarely touched you due to his overdrinking.
You opened the door to the bathroom to find Eddie standing there silently in the dark hallway. In any other circumstances, he would have scared the hell out of you.
"Hey, I just— wanted to make sure you were okay," he stated in a deep voice.
"Yeah, I just needed a moment," you replied. You stepped closer to him as a man walked out of the other bathroom and behind you down the narrow hallway.
As you stepped closer Eddie you found yourself directly in front of him. Your stare followed the way his band tee clung to his chest, outlining his pecs and traveling to the narrowing of his waist...
Eddie groaned and shifted, bringing your gaze up to his eyes. You gasped softly at the look in his eyes.
You weren't sure who stepped forward first but suddenly you were pressed against the hard expanse of his body. His head hung low as you tilted your head back.
He wrapped his arms around your waist cautiously and you glided your hands from his chest, slipping them behind his neck. His lips hovered over yours teasingly, tempting you to move forward.
"I'm going to kiss you if you don't stop me," he whispered, rubbing his nose against yours.
You gazed into his dark eyes before letting your eyes drift shut " I don't want you to stop," you said softly.
He quickly tilted your head back further, pressing your lips to his. Lips melded together sensuously, making you whimper softly into the kiss.
Your fingers combed through the soft curls atop of his head as he pulled you tighter against him. People walked by but you two could care less. The moment you were sharing was the only thing that mattered.
His tongue swiped across your lips searching for access. Parting your lips, you felt him slide his tongue across yours skillfully. You could feel your breasts sliding across his chest as you moved against him, making your nipples harden.
Your core began to throb with a dull ache and you moaned deeply into his mouth.
At the sound of your noises, he groaned in return letting one hand travel down to cup your ass. His other hand playing with the hem of your skirt teasingly.
You arched into him more, begging silently for something, anything to quell the storm brewing within you. He slipped his hand beneath your skirt and slid one finger from your clothed entrance up to your clit.
"Fuck, your so wet," he murmured against your lips.
Your breathing became ragged as you attempted to stifle a moan. You were still aware that you were in a public area.
He swiftly turned you both around so his body covered yours, giving a small sense of privacy.
You could still feel his fingers teasing your entrance, gently prodding, causing the fabric of your panties to dip into you slightly. Closing your eyes, you parted your lips letting your breath out in uneven pants.
"Look at me princess," he said, his voice hoarse.
You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his intense stare. He swiftly pulled your underwear out of the way, gathering the wetness pooled at your entrance, before pressing down on your clit.
He covered your mouth with his as you cried out in response, weaving his tongue with yours. Tightening your hold on his hair, you pulled his head closer, deepening the kiss.
His finger began to circle your bud faster and faster until you were gasping for air against his lips. You could feel him panting as well, the faint smell of beer, cigarettes, and mint fanning across your face.
Suddenly, he thrusted two fingers into your heat, making you throw your head back, bumping your head on the wall. You bit your lip to keep quiet. He began to pepper kisses along your jaw working his way down to the side of your neck.
You pulled his head away to look into his eyes "please," you whimpered. The need to cum had become overwhelming, leaving you clenching around his still fingers.
"Fuck," he bit out before shoving his fingers back in and out at full force.
Your head hit the wall again with a thump as your orgasm began to build steadily.
He grabbed your chin to keep your gaze on him as he took you higher and higher. Keeping motion with his fingers he started to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb.
"Eddie, I'm gonna—," you moaned unable to finish your sentence.
"Look at me baby, I want to see you cum for me," he said keeping his gaze locked on yours.
You came with an audible gasp, gushing around his hand. He continued stroking you lazily, as your walls fluttered around his nimble fingers.
Removing his fingers from your heat, he pressed against you, claiming your lips in a heated kiss. You felt his hardened length along your thigh.
At the feel of him, you felt your core clench, making you feel empty. You moaned softly into his mouth angling your body towards his member.
He pulled back and looked you in the eyes "you need to go now," he said pressing his forehead to yours.
"Hmmm," you said hazily. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasmic bliss.
"If you don't go, I'm gonna end up fucking you in this hallway," his voice was strained with longing.
"Our first time should be somewhere special," he said finally. He gave you one final sweet kiss before stepping back.
Even though he had just made you cum with only his fingers, he somehow still managed to make you flush from embarrassment.
You nodded your head, silently agreeing. He had a point, you were lucky if no one had witnessed what had just occurred. You smoothed down your skirt as you pushed yourself from the wall.
Now that the rush was fading, shame was starting to creep in along the edges of your mind. Keeping your head down, you moved to brush past him.
"Hey," he said softly, taking hold of your hand. "You, okay?" He rubbed the palm of your hand gently, looking deep into your eyes.
Your heart twisted from the expression on his face. His eyebrows were creased, genuine concern etched into his features.
"Yeah, just a little embarrassed, I guess," you replied honestly.
His response was instant "don't be, you have nothing to be ashamed of." he said smiling warmly.
You smiled in return, allowing him to loop your arm through his and lead the way out of the club.
As you reached your truck, he turned to you, your arm still tucked securely against his side. He took your other arm and pulled you into him.
"Are you okay to drive?" he murmured into your hair. "I can drive you home if you want," he said suggestively.
"That's okay," "I think you sobered me up a bit," you joked lightly.
He gave you another kiss leaving you breathless. You climbed into your truck, giving him a small wave before pulling off to head home.
Next Chapter
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strawberry-cowmilk · 2 years
Text
It's not your fault!
-> Beelzebub x Mc
Welcome to episode 1000 of 'decomposing in my drafts.' So, this one is heavy angst (with some comfort??). Please, make sure to read the content warnings and the a/n because this fic may be upsetting to some.
Mc's gender is not mentioned, and this is not proof read.
-> sequel here
a/n: I feel like I have to put a little note here saying that Belphie is portrayed VERY negatively in this post. If you don't like that, I suggest you don't read this.
Content warnings: lesson 5 spoilers (character spoiler), lesson 16 and 17(?) spoilers, blaming (literally Belphie telling Beel he is responsible for that thing), strong language, references to gambling-like activities, fighting (that gets out of hand), yelling, death threats, attempting to end somebody, broken bonds, reverse-comfort, self-sacrifice, insulting, crying
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Last week, there was a lottery-type event at Akudonald's. The person who owned a ticket with a certain number could oder 300 grimm worth of free food. Of course, you and Beelzebub bought about 10 tickets in the hopes of drawing the winning number, and you succeeded.
The two of you dumped the contents of three big bags of Akudonald's food onto Beel's bed. 'We're going to have quite the evening.' you smirked, and the demon nodded his head happily, not taking his violet gaze off of the haul. Just as you were about to dig in, the door of the twin's bedroom slammed open, revealing a very distressed Belphie standing in the hallway. The youngest brother stepped foot inside the room. 'Beel, I can't find it anywhere!' he got out between pants. The avatar of gluttony looked confused. 'Can't find what?' Belphegor looked his older brother dead in the eye, the stress still apparent in his expression. 'The photo album, the one with all the pictures of Lilith. It's- it's gone!' You looked at Beel next to you, who was now staring at his brother in shock. Oh no. You knew how important their late sister was to them, and that album was, other than the occasional photo Asmo has, the only keepsake they had left of her. 'It's gonna be okay, I'll help you find it.' you offered. Belphegor sighed. 'That's nice of you, but I've almost blown up the whole house looking for it.' Then, realization hit Beel. He looked at you in worry. That thing he ate last night during his 2am hunger-attack... That wasn't a sheet cake.
'Belphie... I'm so sorry.' the sixth born said quietly. 'I- I think I ate it...' Beel looked at the floor, despite his younger twin's burning gaze on him. You started to panic internally, but you didn't show it. You had to stay calm. For Beel. So, you grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze, in an attempt to calm him down, even if that is a little bit. Belphie was at a loss of words. 'You... what?' he stammered before turning into his demon form in a matter of seconds. 'Are you fucking serious? Can't you control that damn apetite of yours for one minute or are you just plain stupid?' the youngest brother showed anger greater than Satan's after his favorite book series got discontinued. Beel squeezed your hand tighter, still not looking at his twin. You, completely in the middle of this,had no idea what to do. Beel was clearly hurt by his brother's words but did not say anything, so you decided to try to calm the fuming Belphegor down. 'Hey, Belphie, it's okay. Beel was probably very hungry and we can always make a new album right? Doesn't Asmo have some pictures?' The avatar of sloth's head shot towards you. 'Shut up, human! Say one more word and I'll snap that pathetic neck of yours again!' you felt fear wash over you as the demon threatened you. In response, Beelzebub hugged you against his body. 'Belphie... I know you're angry, but that was mean. Mc is trying to help.' he defended you. Despite the fact he too was getting absolutely bashed by the younger demon, he defended you. 'I'm so sorry I ate the album, but please don't take your anger out on Mc.' That was the comment that made Belphie unintentionally lose every last piece of rationality. 'You're right, I should be killing you, not Mc! After all, thanks to your big fuck-up, Lilith is gone now!' Belphie breathed heavily before continuing. 'It's your fault, Beelzebub!'
Beel completely tensed up in your arms at his twin's words. He just stared at him as he was getting ready to actually kill him. Having realized this, you broke free from Beel's embrace, stepping in front of him to protect him from Belphie. 'No!' you yelled, masking your fear. You thought you would die for a moment there, but somebody had rushed into the room and restrained the avatar of sloth. 'When I heard yelling, I didn't expect shit like this to be goin' on!' It was Mammon, also in his demon form. 'Fucking scumbag, let me go! Now!' Belphie did thrash around and scream in his grip, but the second born was stronger. 'Oh, Mammon thank you!' you breathed before turning to Beel, who was shaking behind you. You softly smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek. 'Let's go sit down, okay?' you suggested. Before he could answer, somebody else burst into the room. This time it was Lucifer. Before he spoke, he looked around the room. He saw Mammon holding a very angry Belphie down, and he saw you trying to comfort a shaken-up Beel. The avatar of pride had many questions, but decided to restrain Belphegor with his trusty rope first. Lucifer sent Mammon away, and threw Belphie over his shoulder, ready to leave. 'I demand an explanation later.' he said. But, before he could go, Beel stopped him. 'Lucifer, please move me to the attic. As a permanent room.' it was almost like he was pleading. Belphie scoffed, but the oldest brother silenced him before he could say anything. 'Silence, Belphegor!' he said sternly. 'Fuck you, Lucifer! Go suck Diavolo's dick!' the youngest spat, his words like venom. Lucifer dug his nails into Belphie's back, repressing his anger. Everyone knew the avatar of sloth was in even bigger trouble now.
It was just you and Beel now. You shoved some of the Akudonald's aside and guided the demon to sit down on the bed, next to you. 'Beelzie, how are you feeling?' you said, as gently as you could. You even used the nickname you used only on special occasions. The avatar of gluttony didn't seem to react to your words, he just stared in front on him. 'Can I touch you?' you tried asking gently. To your luck, Beel nodded, so you took both of his hands between yours. 'I... I don't want him to hate me...' the demon confessed. 'We used to be so close...' and that was when the tears started falling from his face. It was the first time you had actually seen him cry. You let one hand go to wipe his tears away. 'He didn't mean what he said, I'm sure he'll apologize in a few hours.' you reassured him. the sixth born shook his head. 'N-no... he is right, it's my f-' you cut him off by hushing him. 'Beel, it's not your fault at all.' he did not look at you. 'Mc... I love you, but don't lie to me.' his words broke your heart. There was only one way to help him now, and that was telling him you sometimes could see Lilith in your dreams, and it felt real every time. 'Hey... look at me.' you asked him. Eventually, the demon carefully turned towards you. 'I can see Lilith in some of my dreams...' you started. This got Beel's attention. The tears ceased falling from his eyes as he listened to your voice. 'She says she loves all of you so much, and... she doesn't blame you.' you continued. 'She's so proud of you, Beel. She's so happy you've finally found peace after the war.' You swear you could see a smile make its way on his face. The demon released his hands from yours to press you against his chest, hiding his face in your hair. 'Next time you see her, tell her I love her. Please?'
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sludgewolf · 1 year
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hello! could you please write some headcanons for Mallek x gn!reader where the reader has anxiety and they have trouble going out a lot and one day when they go out alone they get lost and then call Mallek while super upset? i’m sorry if this is too much 😭😭
Hii!! Thanks for sending this ask, this was rly fun to write, there isn't that much Mallek at the start but hopefully I made up for it w the ending.
I used they/them pronouns for Mallek too so it woudn't get confusing with the other character I added, hope that's ok
If you didn't like anything you can send another ask with more details and I'll rewritte this for you
Disclaimer: do not copy, repost, take or feed to AI or NFTs anything I post
Masterlist
Mallek x Anxious!Reader
Mallek also doesn't go out a lot
They themself have anxiety, so they know how hard it can be to go alone and they always try to help you out any way they can
if you live together they'll try to always accompany you out and if you're still not in that part of the relationship, they'll ask you to tell them when you're going out and when you arrive
more to calm his bloodpusher than anything
Mallek often helps you look for the best route and sometimes convinces you to ask for the friend you're meeting to pick you up
But no one can plan for everything
You were going out with Lanque in another one of his escapades from the caverns at a caffe at Outgut, you were meeting him at a bus stop midway there , where you've gone by yourself thousands of times
so there's no need to worry
Shortly after you leave your hive you receive a message
'change of plans, bronia is up my ass'
'meet me at the caffe'
You try not to panic, you've been to the caffe hundreds of times, for fucks sake, you were the one that found it and made it into a hang out place
You can get there no problem. Easy!
Easy peasy lemon squeezy!!
You get lost
like very lost
Did you make a wrong turn before or after going by the mall? Was that even the right mall? Where's the weird looking tree you always see on your way there??
Now it's too late to try not to panic, you're shaking like a fucking chiwawa as you make a call
their answer is lazy and relaxed but quickly turns to worry as they hear the nervousness in your voice
"hey what = wrong; = you hurt;" Mallek shoots at you already getting up
You try to explain as you hear them type furiously on their husktop
"i got your location; stay there ill be over in five;"
after that they leave and you sit by the curb
As you wait, you remember the breathing exercises you learned from Boldir
in less than five minutes you already stopped shaking and are able to see Mallek's limo pulling up
They open the door and you run into their arms
they squeeze you tight while you breathe in their calming scent, you feel yourself relax in their arms and the cool ac in the limo is a more than welcome addition
"hey; you ok;" they ask, their eyes full of concern
you nod and squeeze them one more time before loosening your grip to look at them and asking if they could take you home
"already doing it" they say reassuringly, they then pull you under their chin and purr all the way to their hivestem
Once you enter their hive you send a message to Lanque saying you couldn't make it and promissing you'll make it up to him later
as you do that Mallek prepares a warm mug of ... something, that despite being purple almost tastes exactly like hot chocolate
Mallek takes you to their respite block and you settle on their lap with the mug in hands
"feeling better;" they question still purring and hugging you from behind
you nod leaning into them, you tell them what happened and thank them for the rescue
"anytime dude;" they nuzzle the side of your face and rub circles on your back until you fall asleep
Mallek then carries you to their recuperacoon and settles by your side cuddling you until they also fall asleep
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