#so I decided to draw them smiling and eyeing each other instead
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#I am sick of the war#so I guess I just draw#I've never really finished any drawings rather than sketches so...this is as far as I can go#to be honest I don't even like to draw... but I can't get over their breakup...#the images of them in my head are constantly sad and melancholy#so I decided to draw them smiling and eyeing each other instead#Their hair🙈🙈🙈Real pain in the ass to draw#Sketch#Fanart#My fanart#barris#thomas barrow x richard ellis#thomas barrow#richard ellis
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can you write a smut fic with mike x reader where he eats you out?? thank you!!
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Eating In (It's good for you)
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: mike is a munch always why would i write anything else???
warnings: 18+!!! NSFW!!! MDI!!! oral sex (f!receving), fingering, squirting (kinda?)
word count: y'all already know 1.3k+
authors note: you guys really speak my language. the beginning of this got a lot fluffier than i was expecting lol still filthy though. 18+ content mdi!!! hope you love it anon mwah <333 also pretty sure i flipped flopped between perspectives sorry babies i'm dumb
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it's no secret that mike lives for eating you out. he could live between your thighs if it was up to him, spending hours drawing out those desperate noises from your lips when he does that thing with his tongue that you love.
the feeling of your hands tugging his hair and your thighs tightening around his head because you just feel so good make his eyes roll back in his head every time he thinks about it.
tonight was no exception, but it was a little different.
as soon as the two of you put abby to bed he was on you. pinning you to his bed as you lazily made out, grinding against each other in slow relaxed motions.
“baby,” mike breathes between kisses, “can you do me a favor?”
you hum in acknowledgement, not wanting to pull away from kissing mike enough to reply.
mike chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip teasingly at your lips. “i want you to ride my face.” he whispers dirtily, licking a stripe over your lips.
mike watched as his request sinks in, your eyes widening and mouth dropping open just a bit. “mike…” you whisper, he can hear the hesitation in your voice. he can’t have that.
“come on baby, please?” he pleads, moving his hands to rub soft circles into your hips. “you’ll love it, baby. i’ll make it so good for you.”
mike can see the moment your pupils completely dilate, fully swallowing your iris’. your chest heaving as your adrenaline kicks up.
after a beat, you nod slowly. your soft “okay” barely audible, mike grins like he just won the lottery.
“well hop on baby,” mike says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “we don’t have all night.”
mike pulls away, falling on his back on the bed. laying his laced hands on his stomach, waiting patiently for you to give him what he wants.
he waits as you take a steadying breath, gathering up the courage before you rise up and start to shuffle over to him. mikes hungry eyes watch you swing your leg over his lap, making your way up his body.
you stop short, sitting on his stomach with a timid look. mike places two grounding hands on your hips, squeezing them reassuringly.
“you have to tell me if i’m smothering you or something. i don’t need to accidentally kill you.” your hands fidget with the waist of mikes pants nervously.
“what a way to go.” he says wistfully, a dopey grin on his face.
you let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide your smile. “you’re such an asshole.” you reply, pinching his chest teasingly. your tone is too fond to hold any actual malice. mike laughs back.
finally, you start to shuffle higher up his torso, but he stops you holding your hips in place. “other way, baby.”
it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to understand what he means. you let out a soft moan, a shiver wracks your body. pleasure zings up your spine at how filthy this is.
it’s a little awkward, but you manage to swing your legs around so you're facing the rest of his bedroom, not just the wall. from this angle, you can see how his dick is tenting the front of his loose sleeping pants, a wet spot forming near the tip.
you still only hover over your boyfriend's face instead of truly sitting, scared of hurting him. mike decides not to say anything, too preoccupied with the view directly in-front of him.
“fuck,” mike whispers hotly, staring up at your clothed pussy makes his dick twitch. baby pink lace darkened by how wet you are. he leans up slightly, running his tongue over the rough lace still covering you.
"shit...mike," you shudder, legs trembling on either side of his head.
mike takes his time, laving his tongue over the soaked lace a few times, reveling in your familiar taste, but his patience wears thin. soon enough he's tugging your panties aside to get at what he really wants before returning them to your hips.
mike moans at the sight of your slick pussy, already so wet from his mouth. he can't help but softly run his pointer finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to circle around your clit.
you moan softly, trying your best to be quiet so abby doesn't wake up.
mike stops his fingers assault on your clit, too eager to chase the sight of your convulsing pussy with his mouth, the tip of his tongue sliding easily through your folds. he groans, rubbing his face between your thighs, no doubt covering his nose and chin in the copious amount of wetness leaking from your pussy. he quickly gets lost in the feeling of tasting you, of licking and sucking at your clit making you moan and whine.
"shit!" you exclaim, pitching forward to steady yourself with your hands flat on his chest. the rough feel of his stubble scratching your inner thighs, most likely leaving red marks on the skin there. you hope it'll leave marks, that you'll be able to feel it every time you walk tomorrow, a reminder of what the two of you did tonight.
by now you're white knuckling the front of his shirt as you frantically circle your hips against his face, the bed squeaking quietly under your movements. mike spurs you on with small smacks to your ass, groaning into your pussy with every pass of his tongue over your fluttering hole.
you can feel the vibrations in mike's throat as he fucks you with his tongue, guttural groans making your thighs shake in an attempt to stay upright.
but it's just too much, the onslaught of his tongue making you forget all about your earlier insecurity, and you fully lower yourself onto his mouth too caught up in your pleasure to even hold yourself up anymore.
mike's eyes widen in surprise at you seating yourself on his face, moaning way too loudly at how hot it is to see you lose control.
"fuck! feels so good, mike," you slur, head hanging down to your chest, hair falling around your face. "mph- mike - ah, ah, ah,"
you realize you're going to come like this, riding mike's face like you're starved for it. you can feel it, the warmth settling deep in your belly. flames licking there way up your body.
mike realizes it too apparently, because he latches his mouth over your clit and plunges two fingers into your clenching pussy, thrusting them in and out quickly.
the lewd squelching noises that fill the room make your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“holy fucking shit! mike fuck!” you moan, trying desperately to control your volume. “i’m gonna come, oh fuck.” mike moans in respines, speeding up both his tongue and fingers.
the combination of mike’s tongue rapidly flicking over your clit and thick fingers expertly hitting your g-spot every thrust pushes you over the edge. one final suck to your clit has you coming all over mike’s face. drenching the lower part of his face in your juices and soaking up the dirty groans mike makes as he sucks up every last drop.
mike pulls away from you clit, and takes his fingers out of your pussy to let you come down from your orgasm. kissing across the inside of your thighs as you shake and tremble above him.
after a few shuddering breaths, you lift up and off mike’s face to collapse onto the mattress next to him. the two of you lay next to each other staring up at the ceiling, panting out wet breaths as you come down.
you turn to mike, his lips are slick and red. lower half of his face shining with your come, eyes half-open and hazy. you lift your hand to trial your finger down his body, making your way to the waist of his sleeping pants riding low on his hips showing off his dark happy trail. your hand slides lower to the ever still present hard-on tenting his pants obscenely, rubbing over his erect dick with purpose.
“your turn?”
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taglist!
@yuenity @ebodebo @mfdxz
#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#fnaf#fnaf movie#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#micheal schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader smut#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#fnaf smut#smut
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm.
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them.
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth.
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana.
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?”
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him.
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face.
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you.
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .”
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you.
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.”
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow.
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared.
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been.
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?”
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.”
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off.
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind.
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill.
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping.
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.”
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible.
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ.
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it.
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body.
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor.
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words.
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack?
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him.
Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear, standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.”
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way.
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made.
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes, but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going.
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked.
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more.
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered.
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples.
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again.
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly.
Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying.
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together.
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile.
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded.
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it.
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own.
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes.
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her.
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic.
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head.
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock.
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away.
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle.
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.”
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
#dark fic#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron#outer banks smut#barry outer banks#rafe cameron x black!reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe fanfiction#jj maybank#kiara carrera
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notes on love
summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas
pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader
word count - ~1.5k
*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*
It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.
Sans a hat on his head.
After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.
“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.
Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.
“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”
You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.
“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”
“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”
Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.
“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”
“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”
“Never needed it.”
You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.
“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.
“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”
“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”
You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.
Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.
“You’re going to look so pretty.”
Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.
“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.
“Why, love?”
“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.
Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”
It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.
You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.
“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.
“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”
“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.
“Have you got your ring?”
You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.
“Always.”
“You going to wear it on the carpet?”
“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”
Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.
Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.
“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”
“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”
Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.
“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.
You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.
Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.
You pouted because you missed him a lot.
People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.
“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.
Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.
“I know.” You smiled to yourself.
“He looks like a sexy CEO.”
You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.
“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.
“Yeah, hang on..”
You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.
You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.
“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”
You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.
You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.
And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.
harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go
It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.
Then the face-time call comes through from him.
“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.
He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.
You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.
“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.
“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.
“Has the match finished?”
“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”
Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.
One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.
“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.
“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”
You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.
“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”
“True, true.”
“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.
“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.
“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.
“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”
You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.
You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.
You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.
“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”
“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.
“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”
“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.
Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles fic rec
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Co-Parenting with Suguru
AU where Geto didn't kill the entire village but adopted Nanako and Mimiko (I love mommy geto)
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Geto is able to adopt Mimiko and Nanako with your help, and how the girls with Gojo set you two up. Acquaintances to lovers, idiots who care for each other. (pure fluff, and i've tried to avoid using y/n)
You wouldn't say you and Geto were good friends, but when you were asked to testify on his behalf in front of the higher ups, you readily agreed. You were tasked to look after the twin girls he had brought back from the village and they were the sweetest little girls you had ever met. Even if Geto had killed those villagers, you couldn't blame him - they were torturing two innocent souls on problems caused by their own vices.
Shoko and Gojo couldn't testify to Geto's character - everyone knew they were practically joint at the hip - the three of them are always together. You were closer to Utahime your senpai, known to not like Gojo and Geto very much. With whatever casual conversations you had had with Geto, you hadn't really found a reason to dislike him. And hearing Nanako and Mimiko call him “Geto-Sama” in their sweet little voices only helped in solidifying your high opinion of him.
You heard their narration of the night and how Geto with his incredible bangs and magic powers stopped the evil people hurting them and took him away and dropped them into your arms.
“Do you really think any of those could be trusted with kids?” Geto asked. You snorted in response and gladly accepted to take care of the two lovely little girls.
“Your Geto-Sama will be right back with you,” you promised the girls while closing the buttons of your uniform. “I will be back in a bit. I've got dolls for the both of you,”
“Thank you,” they tell you, adding “sama” to your name. You blush but don't say anything, having already told them to not address you as such multiple times over the couple of days.
“I don't believe that Geto-San could have gone out of his way to hurt those people. In fights with curses, collateral damage is always there, and Geto had two little sorcerers to take care of. I think we can excuse him this time.” You said when you were asked to speak.
“I don't see anything wrong with letting Geto-San take care of the two girls. They clearly trust him much more than anyone else, after how horribly they were treated by the village. I pitch on his behalf, that he would take utmost care of the two sorcerers under his care.” You said when the question for their custody arose.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Geto said bowing in front of you once the elders were done with the hearing. They had dismissed everyone else to discuss the matter.
“You've got some lovely girls to parent now, Geto-san,” you say, returning his charming smile. “Are you sure you are ready to be a parent?”
“Not really, no,” He admits. “I will try my best though,”
“Oh they are such lovely girls, I have half a heart to keep them for myself,” You fawn, feeling suspiciously giddy. “If you ever need a babysitter-”
“I will definitely call you,” Geto nods with a smile on his beautiful face. He has always been beautiful, but today with his hair half-up, half-down, he looks especially charming. He rushes away on hearing footsteps and you walk the short distance to the dormitories.
“Hello girls!” You excitedly enter your room, holding out a bunch of cookies in your hands, thanks to Utahime. “The final decision of the higher ups will come later today, but Geto should be free to see you,” You give them the stack of cookies and then seeing the styled dolls add, “Do you girls like dressing up?”
You smile with the way their eyes widen with excitement and open your humble wardrobe in the dormitory, giving them access to everything they'd need to get dressed up. They decide to dress you up instead, and the three of you are full of giggles as they take your makeup and freely draw on your face - and be surprisingly good at it. You play some of your favourite music, which the girls seem to enjoy and then they paint your nails. They dress you in your best clothes and you love the way they've styled you.
There's still a long time left before the higher ups will announce the decision, so you take the girls out shopping to distract them. Fortunately, your income as a sorcerer allows you to have the freedom to spoil your girls - and you love it to an alarming extent. Mimiko and Nanako have got excellent taste, you'll credit them that - they pick out the cutest dresses for each other and coloured lip balms that compliments each other's hair well. You encourage them to change into their new clothes in the mall itself and take so many pictures of them and with them - and you are almost sad at the thought of letting Geto have them, but that's something you will be sad for later.
You've lost track of time at the mall, and when you get back it's already twilight. The girls had a lovely day, and they are still buzzing with excitement when you enter.
Geto is sitting on your bed, in a semi-clear spot with almost all of your stuff on it - from the whirlwind that dressed you earlier.
“Geto-Sama!” The girls scream with delight and kneel down in front of him with bows, showing how grateful they were to him - he motions them to get up and hugs them both simultaneously, but his foxy eyes hold your gaze as he says, “Mimiko and Nanako can live with me, from now.”
Your body reacts to the news faster than your mind, and you've already planted a kiss on his cheek and have your arms wrapped around him before you realise what you have done. A crimson blush colours his face along with your lipstick as he thanks you, his voice softer and breather than usual.
Your whole body heats up when you see the colour of your lipstick on his cheek and the way he makes no attempt to wipe it off his flushed cheeks as Mimiko and Nanako look up at him with glittering eyes.
You hear your name from Nanako’s mouth, noting the “sama” she had added yet again. Geto's eyes are affectionate as he hears them gush to him about you, about the fun they had with you.
While Mimiko is in Geto's arms, Nanako makes her way into yours and you feel silly for tearing up. You hug her close to your chest, feeling her little arms around your shoulders. “Thank you for bringing back Geto-Sama,” Nanako whispers to you. You pat her head and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek, now mindful of the transferring lipstick.
The sound of a camera clicking snaps the four of you out of the trance, and you find the Gojo Satoru standing at the threshold of your room, clicking pictures of the four of you. “Suguru, you get a girlfriend and daughters and you forget all about your best friend,” He tuts, dramatically putting a hand over his chest, his icy blue eyes peeking from behind his sunglasses.
Gojo gasps on seeing the lipstick mark on Suguru’s cheek and takes out his phone to snap even more pictures of a blushing Suguru. “You forgot to mention things were this serious!” He says, mock offended.
“Gojo/Satoru, shut up!” You and Geto speak simultaneously.
“You're even saying the same things now,” Gojo sighs like an old man. Mimiko and Nanako burst out into a fit of giggles. “You agree with your godfather, Satoru, right girls?”
“Godfather? Where did that come from?” You ask, scrunching up your nose.
“Well it was gonna be Suguru as mother and myself as the father but now you've taken in as their mother and Suguru as their father so I've got to take the next best thing-!”
You hit him upside his white-haired head, veins on your forehead popping out with irritation at his words. Gojo rubs the top of his head muttering something under his breath. “This is why I always stay with Utahime Senpai,” you say, making Suguru and the twins laugh.
“Get him, girl!” Geto cheers you on.
“I won't give you Nanako and Mimiko if you continue to be roommates with him,” you declare, narrowing your eyes at Geto.
“I'm renting a place outside Jujutsu Tech,” Geto confesses with a sigh.
“WHAT-?” You and Gojo both yell in shock.
“It's for the best,” He says.
“You’re taking my girls away from me!” You complain, hand on your chest. “This is so unfair, Geto-kun. How will I see them now?”
.
It's been a couple of weeks, and the twins have adjusted well to Tokyo. You've adjusted too, opting to spend your time with them rather than with anyone else. Gojo keeps teasing you relentlessly, not even bothering to stop when the teachers are around. You've grown closer to Suguru as well, spending most of your off-time with him. Shoko has become your refuge now, with Utahime leaving for Kyoto.
It's one of your lazy Sundays, and you wake from your and the twins afternoon nap. They are snuggled to either side of you, and it’s unbearably hot but you don't dare move; admiring their serene, sleeping faces. Your left eye twitched at the thought of the torture your girls were subjected to by those foolish villagers, blood boiling once again.
You reach for your phone instead, going through some old photos. You've scrolled down to when the girls were living with you, a picture of the three of you with matching white bows in your hair when the door quietly opens, and Suguru quietly enters with a pitcher of water and some glasses. He chuckles at your grateful face, pouring out some water for you. You gulp down the water, your overheated body giving out a sigh of relief when the cold water hits your stomach.
“It's time to wake them up,” He whispers, leaning down to your laying form.
“I don't really want to,” you whisper to him, pleading, not looking away from his pretty dark eyes. “Five more minutes?”
“Okay,” He relented with a sigh, sitting beside Nanako. You think of how different he is now, different from when he is exorcising curses and when he is with Gojo. You also find yourself liking this side of him, that only his girls got to see. And you, one of his girls.
“Have you thought about their schooling?” You ask, voice quieter than a mouse. Geto lays down, facing you.
“I’ll have them homeschooled,” He replies just as quietly, frowning.
“That’s boring,” You say. “How will they adjust to the outside world? We can’t always be with them.”
“I’m terrified of the curses getting -”
“Teach them to defend themselves, just a little.” You suggest. “You know they can’t rely on others, they will need to learn to keep each other safe.”
Nanako stirs between the two of you, mumbling a hushed “papa,” under her breath as she snuggles into Geto. You fawn all over this, his pretty eyes wide and looking at you, seeking assurance. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face as he caresses the girl’s caramel hair and you have to resist the urge to pull his silky hair out of the bun and run your fingers through them. You opt to lightly pat Mimiko’s dark head instead, and she snuggles into you mumbling, “mama,”
Admittedly, you’ve teared up a little and you excitedly turn to Geto, who is giving you his prettiest smile that you’ve ever seen. In this little moment, you can pretend to be a happy family, living in a rose-coloured dream.
.
Suguru loves spending time with his girls, and it’s even more delightful when you join in. He especially loves it now that you’ve practically moved in - the guest room slowly filling up with your scent and trinkets. He enjoys taking all of you out to different spots in the city - the parks, the malls, cute cafes and even back to Jujutsu Tech, occasionally.
Suguru wonders if the two of you could even be friends if not for Mimiko and Nanako - just adding to a long list of things that he was grateful for from that night. Your easy smile and sparkling eyes and the way you shower his girls with your love and care just keeps on adding to all the things he admires about you. He half wishes Satoru’s mindless teasing to become a reality, but he lacks the courage.
Currently, he’s sitting on the floor with Nanako behind him, brushing his hair out and Mimiko sitting beside her twin, acting as her inventory. He’s in pure bliss, and the only thing that can make this better is your presence.
Soon enough there is a knock on the door, and Suguru feels bad for hoping it’s you. Of course, he enjoys your company, but you deserve a chance to live freely and not spend every waking hour with him. Satoru and Shoko are there instead, with amazing takeout for Friday evening.
Satoru spoils his self-proclaimed goddaughters (Suguru wouldn’t trust anyone else, either) with the best of everything. Shoko loves teaching them new things, reading, maths, curses, the human body - everything watered down to suit their tender young age.
The four of them play board games while Suguru does the laundry, putting the clothes on the drying line. Usually, you would be here helping him with the clothes, words flowing easily between the two of you.
He's distracted from laundry when he hears Satoru call your name followed by a whistle, then yelling, “I can't really blame Suguru, you look so hot!” He hears your grumble something, and then Mimiko and Nanako’s excited cheers on your appearance. “You had a date?!” Satoru says again, his voice loud and surprised.
Suguru’s heart feels heavy, and he makes his way to the rest leaving half of the clothes in the dryer.
“It wasn't really a date honestly.” You complain. “That guy had no manners! Chewing with his mouth open and not even using the napkins properly! And he barely asked me anything, kept on boasting about himself - it was boring.”
Suguru feels half guilty for the way his chest relaxes, but his breath is taken away as soon as he sees you - you are always beautiful, but you look especially pretty with your brown leather skirt and black jumper. Your jewellery compliments your complexion, and your hair looks perfect. And he has to agree with Satoru- you look hot.
“Where's Suguru?” You ask, looking around.
“Right here,” He says, coming to stand beside you.
He loves the way your eyes sparkle - the lids decorated to match the outfit and a delighted glimmer in your eyes.
“So, I was at the mall and this reminded me of you,” you say, picking up the paper bag on the floor beside you. “The only good thing that came from today, to be honest.”
“You were thinking of me while out with another guy?” He teases.
You get flustered, but respond “Do you want this present or not?” You try to sound stern, but you hand him the bag regardless.
The bag feels heavier than he had expected, and glances in to see the professional camera he had been eyeing for a long time but didn't buy in favour of getting Mimiko and Nanako some limited edition dolls. His pretty eyes widened with delight. “How did you know?” He asks, unable to hold back his excited smirk.
“I am not blind, you know.” You retort, happy that he loved the gift.
“What is it?” Shoko asks. Satoru snaps the bag towards himself, taking out the box of camera and different lenses. “That is one expensive investment,” she remarks.
You chose to ignore her comment, distracting everyone with the little cake you had bought. “And I've got cake!”
“Is today someone's birthday?” Mimiko asks.
“No, baby.” You say, “It's okay to have cake without any reason,”
The little girls are delighted to see the half sky and half forest cake. Neither Suguru, you or his girls have any idea as to when the exact birthday is, so you have them cut the cake together, pretending it to be their birthday. When Suguru takes the cake to the kitchen to cut it up, you follow him, leaving the twins with Shoko and Satoru.
“Suguru, you should get dressed up fancy too,” You say. “Let’s take some good pictures with our girls. I’ll cut the cake up.”
“Okay,” He agrees.
Suguru decides to match you, consciously picking pieces that compliment your outfit well. He is inappropriately fancy dressed up for this photo session. He is thrilled to use the camera you’ve gifted him, and there is no better scene to be his first than his girls(you included) and his friends. He’s brushing his hair out, putting it up in a half updo before giving himself a once-over then leaving.
He’s surprised to see Mimiko and Nanako dressed up too, sitting on either side of Satoru as Shoko and you clicked pictures on the phones. His camera is sitting on the table, still in its box. He has a child-like excitement as he opens the box and checks the lenses with it - the excitement of setting up the camera is unmatched. Even though he enjoys spoiling his girls, he cannot deny that being spoiled is a nice feeling.
Once his camera is ready, he snaps a picture of the scene - you sit between your girls now as Satoru and Shoko click pictures. The flash from the camera distracts everyone, and his eyes find yours sparkling, looking at him with the sweetest smile on your face. He cannot help but wonder how your lips would taste. Suguru smiles at you instead as you wave him over, Mimiko and Nanako between the two of you. Satoru and Shoko give him a knowing once over, the deliberate matching not missing his best friend’s six eyes.
Your hand touches his - neither of you attempting to move as Satoru clicks a picture of the four of you in Suguru’s new camera. Satoru is grinning like an idiot seeing Suguru’s blushing face, motioning Shoko to click some pictures of their idiot friend in love with his daughters’ mother. It is stupid, Gojo thinks, the way that the two of you act like an old married couple but are too terrified to confess your feelings for one another.
“Mimiko, Nanako, come here for a moment, dears,” Gojo calls them. “Suguru, Y/N, please stand closer. You aren’t rivals.”
Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru, but doesn’t comment on it, too happy when you’ve pressed yourself at his side, your arm wrapped around his waist. He swings his arm over your shoulder and leans his head towards yours. His face burns with the soft warmth of your body pressed against him - but he holds his smile steadily, looking at the camera. He looks at your beautiful face for a moment, the serene smile on your face and he forgets all about the jerk who had taken you out.
He just prays that he gets the courage to ask you for a dinner date - perhaps before someone else snatches you out of this perfect life of his.
.
Satoru is at Suguru’s flat, spending time with the sweet little girls. Both you and Suguru had some unavoidable business to attend to - you with some curses and him with his parents - and he finally got the chance to babysit them. Satoru is currently sitting on the floor of the twin’s bedroom, with pink bows in his white hair and getting his nails painted in a pale blue colour by Mimiko and Nanako.
It's not his favourite thing for amusement, but he lets it pass. He does get why Suguru lets his girls do these things to him - they look just so precious with the little forehead creased in concentration. His mind is cooking up a scheme - a scheme which can only be fulfilled with the little one's help. It’s only with him that they address you and Suguru as mama and papa- feeling too shy to address the two of you as such face-to-face.
“Dears, do you think your papa and mama love each other?” He asks the little angels painting his nails.
The girls share a secret look with a smirk that tells Gojo everything that he needs to know. “I’ve seen papa look at mama the way Nanako looks at crepes, Gojo-sama!” Mimiko snickers. “He always has a big smile when mama is home.”
“Mama is also the same, Gojo-sama!” Nanako says. “She looks at papa the way Mimiko looks at ice-cream!”
Gojo laughs at their childish description of the two, wondering how blind you guys must be to not see that the feelings are shared.
“Gojo-sama!” Nanako jumps, excited, as she remembers something else, her caramel bob shaking. “One evening, when mama fell asleep on the sofa, papa carried her to her room. We brought her blankets and he tucked her in, but she held his hands in her sleep.”
“Yes!” Mimiko jumps up too, brown eyes gleaming with giggles. “Papa had turned so pink when Mama did that. He could barely speak.”
“That sounds familiar,” Gojo giggles with them. “Do you want to help me set-”
“Yes!” the twins shriek before he even finishes the question.
Once the three of them are done with the set up, Gojo calls Geto to let him know that he has some urgent clan business to attend to, while Mimiko calls you to tell you that Nanako had a bad dream and she misses you terribly. Both of you rush to return while Gojo and his goddaughters leave for the evening. Gojo leaves a little post-it-note on the fridge, with a brief message.
Geto has been running for 10 minutes straight, red faced and out of breath as he reaches the door of the flat. The elevator dings open and you step out, looking just as out of breath. “Did Mimiko call you too?” you ask, panting.
“No, Gojo told me he has some clan business - ” He says, taking a moment to completely process your question. “Why did Mimiko call you?”
“Nanako had a nightmare, she was asking for me only, apparently.” You say, standing beside him now. The enticing smell of your perfume fills his senses and he is grateful that his girls have you to comfort them. He too finds comfort in your presence - albeit it’s for different reasons than his girls.
When no one opens the door for a couple of minutes, you put your ear to the door and try to hear something. The house is quiet, devoid of any movements.
“I think they’ve fallen asleep.” you comment.
Geto then opens then closes the door as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb the girl’s sleep. He bumps into you standing in the hallway after taking off his shoes - only to gasp as he sees the immaculate set up in the living room. A sheer white canopy covered in fairy lights and seemingly all of the pillows and some mattresses of the house thrown in the tent - and some of his and your favourite snacks. There’s a movie paused at the beginning and red roses and candles and mild incense decorating the room. Geto blushes when he realises that it’s a set up for a date, heart pounding against his ribs in part-annoyance and part-excitement as he sees your shy face. He’s half mad at Gojo, but he can see the traces of Mimiko and Nanako as well - with the way the pillows are laid out and the flowers are placed.
Geto’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence. It’s Gojo. “Suguru! Put me on speaker!” Gojo’s excited voice says from the other end. He can hear his girls giggling in the background.
“Fine,” Geto sighs.
“Oh hey!” you turn around on hearing Gojo call your name, face hot and worrying your lip between your teeth. “Your little girls, they thought we should let you guys have an evening to yourself - relax and watch a movie. How did you like that set up?”
“You didn’t really have to-” You start to speak as Geto rolls his eyes, fully knowing it was Gojo’s plan. He knew Gojo well.
“Nonsense, you won’t let your daughters down by saying that,” Gojo says, and Mimiko and Nanako giggle louder. “Alright, bye! Enjoy yourselves. There’s wine in the fridge, Suguru.” He says before handing up.
“I’ll get the wine,” Suguru offers. You smile at him before sitting down in the fairy-light canopy, looking much like the woman of his dreams, like a princess waiting for her prince. His heart aches, for he can’t call you his, not outside of his mind. He smiles too, pretending that it’s date-night for you.
There’s a note on the fridge in Satoru’s messy scrawl which gets his attention first. Suguru, take one for the team and ask her !!! Your daughters and friends are rooting for you. She likes you, you blind idiot. A blush colours his face as he crumples the note and throws it in the bin.
His favourite wine is in the fridge, and Suguru is half surprised at Satoru’s thoughtfulness. He pours out two glasses and brings them to you, the bottle left back in the fridge. “Wine for you, ma’am,” he says, and you get the cutest blush on your face as you accept the glass, humming in delight at the taste. He follows your stead and lazily relaxes against the mountain of pillows under the canopy.
“What’s this movie?” You ask, fidgeting with the remote.
“I have no idea,” He says, praying that Satoru doesn’t embarrass him.
The movie begins with the main character, the girl getting ready to go work. It seemed like a cheesy hollywood christmas movie at the beginning, where the girl would be frustrated with her job and go to her small town and never return. That would have been better, in hindsight. Because as the movie progresses, and the love interest comes in - a single father, who had to send his daughter into foster care because he was wrongfully accused of embezzlement - the foster parent being the main character. The girl testifies for him in court while she lives with a new normal - caring for the love interest’s daughter as her own.
Suguru's face burns with how similar the movie is to you and him - he can barely even look at the screen. While the movie played, he subconsciously reached towards you, your warm cheek now resting against his shoulder. It’s hard for him to ignore it now that he realises that this movie was a deliberate selection, and the comment in the note about him being blind.
Suguru steals a quick glance at you, finding you looking at the screen with a little smile, cuddling one of the bigger pillows. You seem totally unaffected by the movie. “It’s so cute,” you murmur.
“Hm?” he prompts.
“The story,” you say, glancing up at him then back at the screen.
“Would it be cute if it were real?” he asks, heart pounding against his ribcage.
“Even cuter,” you nod, cheek moving against his shoulder.
His heart threatens to crawl out of his throat at the admission. He eyes the two hands, one his and the other yours - so close but not touching, afraid to cross that invisible boundary which has built over time. He dares now, for once to cross that boundary, to test the waters and puts his pinky finger over yours, interlocking them. He can feel your smile get wider as his heart nearly makes a hole in his ribs.
You take it a step further and intertwine your hands with his.
“I love the way your hand fits in mine,” he says after a long tense silence, sounding breathier than usual.
“You have nice hands,” you shyly say.
It brings him confidence, the way you say it. Emboldened, he turns to face you and wraps his free arm over your waist, pulling you closer. His nose touches your forehead and he inhales the smell of your shampoo, never tired of smelling it in the pillowcases of your room. He lowers himself to your eye level, stroking your cheekbone. “Would let me kiss you?” he whispers to your lips.
“Always,” you whisper, parting your lips to welcome him.
The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. It’s pure bliss, the way your mouth slots against his and the way to taste better than he could have possibly imagined. Of course, you have always been pretty, but he found you the most beautiful in this moment, in his arms, with your soft tongue fighting against his. His brain has short circuited and he fears that he might get addicted to your taste. He chases your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath, letting go of the intertwined hands that had sweat in the heat of the moment.
Suguru misses your lips instantly, scanning your face for any signs of regret or discomfort. You place one of your hands on his neck, reach the back of it and caress the delicate spot where his hair ends, and a gasp leaves his mouth at the sensation. You put your other hand on his collar and pull him close, his face dragging against the soft pillows and you kiss him. This kiss is much more desperate than the first one, with your teeth occasionally crashing and tongues exploring, the movie long forgotten still playing on the screen.
When you’re both out of breath, you pull back, still breathing the same air and noses touching.
“It was the best fucking kiss of my life,” Suguru confesses, sounding out of breath.
“Mine too,” you say.
He doesn’t want you to think that it was a spur of the moment thing, so he puts on his serious face and says, “Would you like to go out for dinner with me? As more than co-parents?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a giggle.
“Dress fancy,” He says. “Let’s go.”
“Now?” you ask.
“Why wait ?” he shrugs.
“I don’t have - ”
“You do,” he says, shy. “I had got something for you a while back, but never mustered up the courage to give it to you.”
You sit up, looking down at him with an excited gleam in your eyes. “You’ve gotten me an outfit for our first gate, it seems like you were prepared.”
“I swear to you that I wasn’t.” He says. “Just try it once.”
The dress Suguru brought compliments your figure and complexion well, and you’re surprised to see that it fits perfectly. You uber to a fancy place, and with the man on your side, this is the most perfect first date ever. The maroon dress hugs your figure in the right places, and you feel giddy knowing that Suguru had bought this lovely dress with you in mind.
He looks even prettier today, sitting in front of you as your date, dressed in an equally fancy maroon suit. You take plenty of pictures with him, distracted by his long silky hair in a half-up, half-down look. You can barely process the food, distracted by the beautiful man in front of you taking in the way he talks. The way he says your name, almost purring, has you wanting to throw your feet and giggle like a little girl.
Suguru isn’t better off himself. Of course, he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, but right now dressed in the dress he bought for you, sitting in front of him with flushed cheeks, the delicate smile never leaving your face as you speak has his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He finally has you with him the way he had been wanting for years, finding you pretty even when you were both mere acquaintances.
He cannot wait to call you his, but he supposes he’ll save that question for the next date - for you to give this relationship a name. In his head, he is already yours - heart, mind and soul - the only question bugging him is whether you want to be his. That’s a worry for later, he thinks, as he plants a delicate kiss on your lips as the long evening comes to an end.
#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto fluff#jjk fluff#jjk au#jjk x reader#geto suguru fluff#fic: co-parenting with suguru
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The Witch's Bodyguard
Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Bodygaurd!Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda is in need of a new bodyguard and you are called upon to fill in.
Word Count:
Warnings: None this is just a set up and establish chapter
A/N: I'm so glad you're all looking forward to this series!
Wanda Maximoff; sure you'd heard the name before. She was one of the top celebrities around. You didn't pay any of it much mind as you worked security at a gala. Your manager had asked you to work there since she'd be there talking about contracts with people. She had other bodyguards under her, but she always favored you.
“Y/N?” You hear your manager, Val, called out as you stand on the balcony making you turn towards her. Next to her was Wanda Maximoff, you'd seen her around talking with a handful of others like Natasha Romanoff and Kate Bishop.
“What's up Val? Everything okay?” You ask immediately going into guard mode. She chuckles a bit, putting a hand on your bicep.
“Calm down. Nothing serious. Miss. Maximoff here was asking about you when she overheard me speaking so highly of you.” You looked over at the ash blonde, you had seen earlier someone playing the trailer for her upcoming movie which explained the blonde instead of her natural brunette.
“Ma'am.” You gave a nice enough smile and held out your hand.
“It is very nice to meet you…” Her voice trailed off, leaving you to fill in.
“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” She smiles and takes your hand. You see her eyes rake over you, assessing if you'd be a good fit. Currently you were wearing black army pants and a tight fitting black short sleeve shirt. As she looked you over, you swear you see her bite her lip.
“You said she's available, right?” Wanda looks away, back to Val, as if you suddenly don't exist anymore.
“Yes she's open right now. We can draw up a contract for you to look over if you'd like?” Val suggests earning a smile from Wanda.
“That would be lovely. Can it be ready tomorrow? My last bodyguard had to take a leave so I am I'm need of one as soon as possible.” You wonder what could have possibly happened for only a moment before your presence is being requested elsewhere through your ear piece.
“It was lovely to meet you Miss. Maximoff, but I'm needed in the main hall concerning a matter.” You take your leave with a smile, getting one back from both women.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You had woken up at 5am, done your workout, showered, and had breakfast before you were being summoned by Val for this new contract. Standing in the at home office with Val, Wanda, and a handful of lawyers and other important people from Wanda's team all gathered. You stood at ease behind Val wearing much the same as you were yesterday. Only difference was an army green shirt today.
“We need your signature Mrs. Y/L/N, can we get your signature?” One of the lawyers asked.
“It's Miss and yes you can.” The lawyer looked at the paperwork and Val then went back to you. “I told you to fix that, Val.” you hissed as you signed and initial on the lines indicated. You were used to this by now. You'd been through dozens of contracts with Val. You knew every word in the contract by now.
Your eyes flicked up to Wanda, feeling her eyes on you as you signed. It felt like she wanted to say something, but decided against it as you finished your signatures, pushing the papers back to the lawyer.
When everything was said and done most of Wanda's team left leaving just Wanda, Val, her manager Agatha, and yourself. There was small talk mostly of what it would entail. One of them being you'd be a live-in bodyguard for her. Sure Wanda had other guards, but you would be her personal bodyguard and she needed you at all times of the day.
You couldn't complain really. Leaving the old stuffy apartment you'd wanted to leave behind for a while now would be good. You didn't have to pay rent or anything. Food would be provided and you'd still be getting a paycheck each week. It was probably the best possible outcome you could have asked for.
“Well hire some movers to get all your belongings and bring them here.” Wanda spoke as you followed her down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hardwood. You took in the different pieces of artwork she kept around the house. Her home is mostly filled with white, gray, and blacks. The only splashes of color are scarlet hues every so often mixed into things such as a blanket or an accent rug. “This will be your room here.”
She opens a door to show off a rather blank room at the moment, but it's bigger than your whole apartment had been and it even has its own bathroom. You were a little in shock. This was a first for you being 24/7 for someone so you'd never stayed in any other celebrity's houses.
“Once we get your stuff here anything else you might need we can go get or order whichever you prefer.” You honestly weren't sure what to say.
“Oh thank you Miss. Maximoff, but once we get my things here I should be fine. I don't need much, honestly if I didn't have anything besides clothes this room alone would be enough for me.” She let's out a bubbly laugh at your statement.
“A minimalist. I like that.” She responds and you turn to fully face her.
“I did four tours in Afghanistan ma'am you learn to live minimally.” You tell her. She pauses a moment as if unsure what to say as she just looks at you.
“Straight out of high school?” She finally asks, but you have the feeling it wasn't what she really wanted to say.
“Yes ma'am. Did four tours and then met Val through a martial art class. I was trying to blow off steam in a healthy manner after coming back. We got to talking and she asked if I wanted to work for her. The rest is history.” You explain without giving away too much. You didn't like any one person knowing everything. She simply nods.
“Well if you need to grab anything we can go do that. Clothes, essentials, all the big stuff we can worry about tomorrow.”
“We?”
“Yes. You're supposed to stay close to me and if you need to grab your things then I'm going with you.” She says with a smile. Guess you were stuck with her now. At least she's nice. You've had to work with some people who aren't and you couldn't stand being around them.
“We can go whenever you're ready.” she tells you, starting to leave the room as you follow close behind.
“Ready when you are ma'am.”
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @rroyale-109 @wandanat01 @scarlizziee @nixxnsworld @snoozingredpanda @mrsromanovaa @sweet--escape17
#ley speaks#ley writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#actress!wanda#beefy!fem!reader#bodyguard!reader#bodyguard au#The Witch's Bodyguard#TWB
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congratulations on 1k babes!! you deserve all of that and so much more 🫶🫶 ur writing is always so good and you always eat it up! 💗
🏵️; 𝐬𝐨𝐥 𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫 - send in any prompt from this list and a character and i’ll write a short blurb based around the prompt!
morning sex with jj maybank 🤭
thankyou soooo much!! it means the world to me you’re really the sweetest🫶 also this was kinda long i got carried away 🙈
you’re cuddled up to his warm chest, cheek smushed against his pec as you squint as the sun peeking through a crack in the blinds. stretching your fingers that had been laying against his toned stomach, mindlessly drawing swirls against the muscle as you get used to the light.
you’ve got one leg thrown over his, his warm thigh sandwiched between yours and pressing deliciously against your aching heat, no doubt still wet from last night. you sigh quietly, rocking your hips gently so the crotch of your panties catch against your clit, your toes curling at the sensation.
jj starts to stir next to you, nose twitching a little as he stretches the arm you’re not laying on above his head, a groan leaving his mouth as he looks over to you, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as you slow your movements, not completely stopping as you look him in the eye.
“‘y havin’ fun there girly?” he says lowly, in that grumbly morning voice you love, you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together over his, deciding to smush your face into his armpit instead of facing his knowing face. “a little.” you mumble into the flesh, a little smirk playing on your lips.
he nods his head slowly, smirk still adorning his lips “yeah?” he breathes out, you feel his breath tickle your neck and you laugh quietly, lifting your head. “mhm. would be more fun if you’d help me out though.” you smirk and he lets the grin settle on his face, canines showing as he flips you over, strong arms caging you in.
“whats’a magic word?” he smirks and you furrow your eyebrows in mock concentration. “abracadabra?” you giggle and he shakes his head with a smile, blonde mop shaking with the movement.
“hmmm.. please…?” you whisper, leaning up to whisper in his ear and you swear you hear him growl, low and deep in his throat before reaching one hand down to the waistband of your panties, eyeing you suspiciously when you whimper, even from the small touch.
he peels off your panties, throwing them to the side and immediately leaning down for a heated kiss, your tongues wrapping around each other, swallowing eachother’s moans, pulling away momentarily to drag his boxers down his thighs, his pretty length popping out and hitting stomach, little drops of pre-cum already dripping down his shaft.
“open sesame.” he whispers, as you widen your legs for him, barely even registering his words as he admires your cunt, soaking for him. your arousal dripping down your thighs by now, he was so done for. “yeah, that’s definitely my magic word.” you giggle as he stares, wide eyed and you cock an eyebrow at him, finding his antics cute.
“you’re actin’ like you haven’t seen my pussy before.” you state and he snaps back to reality, “oh- huh? oh yeah ‘s just…” he trails off, smirk returning as more arousal dribbles out of your pulsing hole. “please just fuck me jayj.” you plead, reaching up to grip his muscly shoulders, sliding your hands around to cup the back of his neck and bring him down into another passionate kiss.
“right.” he smirks, holding himself up with one arm, one hand gripping his cock as he lines himself up, you lean up on your elbows to watch where you connect as he slowly pushes himself inside, groaning loudly as he watches, completely enamoured by the way you swallow him whole, head dropped back against the pillows as you mewl at the all too familiar stretch, you’d never quite get used to it.
he drops his forehead against yours with a groan when he’s in to the hilt, sweaty blonde hair shadowing his forehead as you look into eachother’s eyes. “you doin’ okay baby?” he whispers, and you nod, genuine smile on your lips as you grip his tanned biceps.
“yeah.” he takes that as his sign to start, rocking his hips slowly in and out of you as you let out breathy little moans, right next to his ear, he swears he could live like this for the rest of his life. peering down to watch how your little cunt takes him so well, deciding against the idea quickly because he might just bust right now, he wants this to last, so he focuses on your eyes, the way they struggle to focus on him when he nudges that squidgy spot that makes you let out the prettiest moans he’d ever heard.
when you both finish, he cleans you up with his tongue, licking up everything he’d spilt inside of you, focusing on your clit and making you cum another three times until you were thrashing against the bedsheets, screaming “oh jayj!” grabbing on his hair and begging him to stop as he traces ‘jj’ over and over against your abused clit until he has you squirting all over his face. he could live in your pussy and be the happiest man alive.
#rubie’s 1k follower celebration! ₊˚⊹ᰔ#🏵️; sol de sur ⋆.˚#maybankskiss ᡣ𐭩#jj maybank blurbs#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank blurb#outer banks#jj x reader#jj maybank headcanon#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank fluff
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more than just an interview.
pairing. hayden christensen x female reader.
outline. your nerves are everywhere for your first big interview with hayden christensen himself, but things take an exciting turn when he asks for your number.
contains. fluff, reader being a fan girl, tattoos mentioned, workplace romance, anxiety nerves.
authors note. i've only ever written for hayden's characters but never for him :( so here's a little hayden fic!
your heart races as you smooth down your skirt for what feels like the hundredth time, nerves wracking your body while pacing the length of the small room. today marked your first big interview covering the much anticipated release of ahsoka, and the lucky subject chosen was none other than hayden christensen himself.
ever since the prequels first captured your imagination as a young teen, you've harbored a hopeless crush on the actor behind anakin skywalker. his smoldering screen presence and talent at bringing such depth to a complex character left you wholly enamored, fueling artistic pursuits like drawing and even getting a tattoo tribute on your 18th birthday.
glancing down at the familiar lines inked below your left wrist, fingers tracing over them brought both comfort and fresh butterflies. would hayden appreciate the sentiment behind such a permanent mark of fandom, or find it odd and off-putting? you couldn't decide which terrified you more in that moment, the impending interview or potentially showing him such an intimate secret.
before anxiety could mount further, a light knock sounded at the door. "they're ready for you y/n." with a final calming breath you nodded, steeling nerves as best able while trailing your guide down bustling halls. rounds of cameras and crew zipped to and fro in organized chaos, only serving to heighten your jittery state.
entering the room, bright lights and microphones came into view alongside your subject for the day. hayden sat relaxed in an armchair, striking features gently illuminated while conversing easily with staff. at your approach he glanced up, meeting your eyes with a warm smile that set butterflies aflutter once more.
"hayden, this is y/n l/n, she'll be conducting your interview today. make yourselves comfortable and we'll begin filming in 5." with that your guide slipped away, leaving you alone under his keen gaze that seemed to assess every minute detail.
stumbling through introductions you both settled into adjacent seats, closing the small distance between as a PA adjusted lighting and levels. "it's truly an honor hayden, i've been a huge fan of your work for so long. thank you for taking the time today."
he graced you with another genuous smile feeling heat rush your cheeks. "the pleasure is all mine y/n, i'm always happy to chat with fellow star wars enthusiasts."
you then launched into prepared questions relying heavily on note cards to steady shaking hands. hayden spoke eloquently of the joys in revisiting ahsoka and anakin's dynamic through animation, the creative challenges of lending voice without physical presence, as well as hints of where future stories may lead the beloved character.
absorbed in the discussion, you almost missed the lull signaling a natural break between topics. glancing down to reorder cards, hayden's eyes caught a glimpse of your inked tribute.
"is that...?" trailing off inquisitively, his gaze held yours in silent permission to explain. heart thundering in your ribs, you extended your arm stiffly for closer inspection with a sheepish smile.
"oh yeah, it's a little silly. but i got this on my 18th birthday as a sort of tribute to anakin. he's my favorite character in star wars thanks to you." chuckling nervously, you shrugged awaiting judgment on such a bold permanent choice.
instead, hayden gently cradled your wrist to examine lines tracing each curve with a focus that sent shivers through your veins. his thumb rubbed absent circles causing thoughts to short circuit, breath hitching slightly at the contact.
"not silly at all, i'm truly flattered. it's not often i come across such devoted fans, let alone marks of appreciation so meaningful. thank you for sharing this with me, it will certainly remain a treasured memory."
releasing your now flaming skin, hayden graced you with a look loaded with warmth that threatened composure. frantically you shifted topics back to the interview, desperate to regain threads of coherency spinning out of control under his gaze. thankfully he indulged without further comment, captivating the audience once more.
all too soon your allotted time came to an end, both of you graciously thanking one another while crew prepped for the next guest. hayden bid farewell with a lingering handshake, flashing one last smile that left you lightheaded long after exiting the stage.
leaning against the nearest wall, you attempted to regulate your breathing and pounding heart. had you truly just conducted that interview, seen that sweet genuine reaction to a silly fangirl choice that meant the world? pinching yourself proved no dreams, only solid reality awaiting further processing back at home with friends.
giddiness prevented focus for the remainder of promotional rounds, drifting through subsequent interviews on autopilot buzzing with endorphins. by late afternoon you found solace beside a refreshments table, quietly replaying treasured memories while nibbling on a giant cookie.
"y/n!" whirling at the call of your name, disbelief flooded as none other than hayden christensen hurriedly approached with a beaming smile. had he mistaken you for another, or somehow recalled you despite a packed schedule? politeness held your tongue awaiting clarification.
"i'm glad i caught you before leaving, this day has been a whirlwind. i hope i'm not being too forward, but i was wondering if i could maybe take you out for a drink sometime? get to know one another outside of work and such. only if you're interested of course."
heart ceased functioning at the implication, mind reeling to comprehend such an opportunity unfolding before your very eyes. hayden christensen, long-time crush and the subject of your teenage fantasies, was genuinely interested in you beyond surface-level small talk of the press circuit.
"i-i would love that hayden. um just give me a second," you said fumbling for your phone with shaky hands, exchanging numbers felt surreal akin to glimpsing behind intricate hollywood veils so seldom witnessed up close.
"wonderful, it's a date then. i'll text you later this week to discuss plans further. see you then y/n, take care." with a final radiant smile hayden turned on his heel, disappearing behind heavy doors towards whatever awaited beyond this magical day.
plopping onto a chair legs feeling like they might give out at any second, you simply stared bewildered at open phone grasped tightly in palm. had any of this truly happened, or had stress and fangirl aspirations finally sent imagination into overdrive? only time would tell where genuine connection may blossom if given proper chance to take root. for now, replaying treasured snapshots on a loop would have to suffice to quell your pounding heart until destiny worked her mysterious ways.
true to word, your phone lit up later that week with an unknown number. unlocking brought a message reading simply "hey, it's hayden. are you free saturday night?" giddy butterflies exploded anew seeing his name, fingers rushing to confirm eagerly while coordinating logistics.
#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker#star wars#star wars x reader#star wars angst#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin fluff#anakin angst#hayden christensen fluff#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x y/n#hayden christensen angst#hayden christensen x you
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Love ain't a Science!
Summary: Miguel takes notes on your dates. You just want him present with you.
Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Drabble.
Liking Miguel wasn’t easy. Well, it was, it’s just he made it hard for himself.
You sat across from him in a diner, milkshake in front of you while you sipped from the straw and stared down at Miguel while he scribbled in his notebook. His glasses slipped down his nose and he scrunched his face up to lift it back. His eyebrows were furrowed as he mumbled to himself and left his own milkshake unattended.
You sipped loudly from your cup with a deadpan expression, hoping to get Miguel’s attention but he was still in his own world. You began to think about the last ‘date’ you went on with Miguel. It went very similar to this.
Both of you went to the same diner as today, a step up from last time when he couldn’t decide where to go, but you had picked a different milkshake from today. He recommended one from the menu and you smiled happily and accepted it. Miguel seemed pleased at your response, gaining a bit of confidence and standing straighter next to you as you ordered and he paid.
Only when you got to your seats, the booth at the corner of the wall next to the window, he pulled out his notebook from his backpack. He began scribbling like he is now, just a little less tense. He asked you questions about yourself and even asked what you liked and didn’t like–if the milkshake was good. You responded to all of them happily, beaming he seemed much more interested.
Until today, where you went to the same diner and instead of ordering the milkshake Miguel recommended, you ordered a different flavor and paid for yourself. He snapped his head down towards you, baffled and not realizing you had paid while he was slack jawed.
When you go to your familiar seats, Miguel pulls out that damned notebook and looks up at you from his glasses, an unsure look on his face.
“Did you not like the one from last time?” He asked softly. You blink and look at your strawberry milkshake. You had chocolate previously.
“I did,” You nodded. “I just thought about trying something different today and to pay on my own as thanks for last time.” You smiled at him and took your first sip from the drink.
Miguel let out a sigh as he looked at you, still unsure. He opens his notebook and begins scribbling in it. Has been for the last twenty minutes. His milkshake had gone lukewarm, whipped cream slipping down the glass and cherry nearly toppling over.
Your sipping became loud and obnoxious as you finished the drink, chewing on the plastic straw in mild annoyance. Deciding you had enough, you slid the empty glass to the side and snatched his notebook from his hands.
Miguel gasped, his eyes meeting yours in a frightened gaze and tried reaching for his notebook across the table but you held it up and away from him with a frown on your lips.
“Just what is in this notebook that you bring it and ignore me every time we hang out?” You tsked and flipped open the notebook, Miguel letting out a strangled yelp when you did so. Miguel was rendered helpless, his cheeks growing warm since he was unable to be rough with you and fight for it back so, he let you skim through it.
Inside his notebook were various pages filled to the brim with messy writing about your past dates with him. All ranging from the very beginning, crossing out places you may or may not have liked so he could pick the best option to writing down your favorite foods to find the best meal he could give you. You saw your answers to his questions scribbled on the next page, crossing out ideas that didn’t fit what you liked. Other random spots were drawings of your face done completely out of angles, figuring out each angle and curve of your features to its perfection. His recent page was even more scribbled on why his ‘hypothesis’ of you liking chocolate milkshakes didn’t work this time.
Your frown broke into a smile, flattering blooming in your chest. You started laughing which prompted Miguel to sink in his seat, place his elbows on the table and cover his blushing face with his hands.
“Are you seriously using science on our dates?” You asked between laughter. Miguel grumbles, his face growing hotter by the second. “I’m not one of your experiments, Miggy.”
You close the notebook and tap it on his head that made him peek through his fingers. You smiled reassuringly at him with a few giggles escaping you.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized, dropping his hands to reveal the dark red on his cheeks.
You shook your head. “I’ll allow it this time, but I’m keeping this,” You waved the notebook before setting it down next to you. Miguel restrains himself from reaching out to take it back. “Just stay with me. Here. You won’t figure me out by studying me. I like you, You like me–let’s not make this complicated.” You explained and set your hands on the table. He sets his own hands on the table, awkwardly looking at the marbled surface. He glances at his melted and warm milkshake and looks at you. You give an encouraging nod to him.
Miguel takes his glass and brings the straw to his mouth, a sheepish grin on his lips as he looks at you. You don’t break eye contact as he takes his first sip and laughed when the taste registers in his mouth and he gags, coughing and desperately trying to swallow it down.
“How was it?” You laugh. He sputters a bit, his voice a little hoarse.
“Really, really stale.” He coughs and you keep laughing. He looks at how much brighter you seemed now and his heart skips a beat. Miguel pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose and smiles softly while your laughing died down to giggles. This was much easier than using science.
A/N: *grips shy nerd miguel in my grasp so hard his eyes bug out of his sockets* quieres?
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#atsv x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#Spotify
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creature comfort
“We won’t win today,” Cleo says, and Etho knows she’s right. Knows their time has been running out since the first secret was whispered to them in voices all too familiar, has known that this day was coming, has known that all this time, it’s not been a question of if–it’s been a question of when.
They’re going to die today. Distantly, Etho wonders if the domesticity they’ve worked for will die with them, or if it will follow them back home.
Will his home ever be a physical place again? Home is where the hearth is, where the warmth is, where the world is shut out and it’s just the three of them.
Home is where Cleo is.
“That’s alright,” Etho smiles instead of voicing all of that, wishing, of all things, that he didn’t still have that awful cough that Cleo had insisted he rest over for a few days. “We’ll be alright.”
They’ll be dead–and what are the dead, if not alright? The dead don’t have coughs, or pain, or fear. They’re just dead. Etho thinks he might not mind it so much, this time. He’s finally learned to spend his time wisely, and he’s built a home no flaming arrow could ever take down.
Just by the cow pen, there’s a stupid little porch Etho had built a while back. They’re nowhere near it now, but every night he and Cleo had watched the sunset, drank a final cup of tea, and turned in to sleep over gossip and giggles only they could draw from each other this time ‘round. Before, Bdubs had made him laugh like that–now, Etho wonders how long before there’s a sword at his throat.
Even so, while Cleo laughs and watches him set Scar’s porch on fire, Etho hopes he might have the privilege of watching the sunset from the porch one last time. He’d survive the day, if only for another sunset with Cleo.
BANG.
Tango’s gone–Etho knows it in his heart. Surely he should feel an ache for him, should ask how he went. Instead, it’s easy to accept it.
The wardens are fun. That’s all they are, now. Before, they had been terrors, then the answer to a desperate prayer he and Grian had made. The carnage of those terrifying beasts feel muted compared to before, but with the wind flying through his hair, the elated cries of Cleo in front of him, Etho can’t care. Not this time. They lead two clear to the middle of the server before they’ve decided to finish having their fun, and Cleo’s just stepping up some rocks when she says it.
“You’re my favorite, you know that? You’ve always been my favorite.”
He does know, he does know now. He’d guessed it that first sunset, when Cleo sat down with a giddy smile to recount their day. He’d thought it, when she’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders after his failures and rested her head on his shoulder without a word. He’d lived it, when she had shouted that she would kill him if he tried to kill her–but was reassured otherwise that night on the porch again, with the curse ebbing from his bones.
Today, he knows it in the blatant rebellion against what’s supposed to be the end, the dread, the fear.
“You’re mine too.” Etho grins back, and knows that they’ll see his smile even through the mask–knows they’ve come to recognize it in his tone and way his eyebrows scrunch together. .
They wind up in the sky base with Grian–Grian, who hasn’t quite reached the same conclusion they have. Etho knows by the shadows under his eyes he won’t give up, that he’ll fight clear to the end. Once upon a season, Etho had been the same.
Not this time. Never this time.
Around ten minutes to sunset, Etho and Cleo set down their dripstone and bows, and sit on the edge of the cobblestone wall.
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to our base for it this time,” Etho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Cleo’s. Cleo laughs, a carefree thing, and wrinkles her nose.
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for it any time, if we’re being honest.” She leans back, one hand half behind her to support her weight.
“I know,” Etho says. He brings his leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it. Behind them, cobblestone is placed–Grian, ever the survivor. “It was nice, though.”
“It was nice!” Cleo beams. “Are you alright with this?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Etho hums. “‘s not so bad. Dying with a friend.”
“It won’t be,” Cleo agrees.
Because that’s just it, isn’t it? Etho’s never died like this–he’s died at the flames of an arrow shot while protecting his king, he’s died in fights after his allies were killed. Hell, he’s died hand in hand with a soulmate hellbent on killing him now–but he’d been in a frenzy then, a rage-induced thing meant to burn up the place that had never been a true home to them.
He thinks he won’t mind dying with someone.
The sun sets in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and they sit together, this final tradition not lost in the face of inevitability. Just as the first star twinkles, Grian comes over, hoisting them back to their feet.
“They’re coming,” he says.
It’s time.
They shoot a few arrows, break some dripstone, all to no avail–but that’s alright, he’s got Cleo, and they’ve got him.
But oh, the games are never kind, are they? Etho slips, his foot landing weird somehow–and he’s whistling through the air towards the ground at a speed too fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs when he lands–does he hit the clutch? Stars, he doesn’t actually know, because there’s arrows shot at him, shouts of glee from the hunters, and suddenly Etho’s not Etho, he’s just prey–and prey only know to do one thing.
Run.
Etho flies forward, dragging his sword out. There’s not many safe spaces left on the server–stars, Grian had even mentioned their base was but a crater in the hill.
But the porch… the porch was intact. Supposedly.
He enderpearls, and enderpearls again, and it’s still not enough. The screams behind him are closer, and closer, and then further–and oh, Etho knows it’s time. He’s dead, he’s gone, he’ll be but a wisp of the wind in a few minutes whether he likes it or not.
And he won’t die by Cleo.
Cleo, Cleo, Cleo. Oh, he’d not meant it to be like this. He’d meant to die with a smile, right by her side–just as they were meant to die by his. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan. A sob claws its way up his throat, the beginnings of the blind panic he’d never meant to feel tonight. He’s going to die, alone, without the comfort of his Cleo.
Home. He wants to go home.
Home is in the air, a hundred blocks above him. He’ll never make it–but he can make it back to the porch, the one place of peace. Now, he can feel the twinge of something broken in his ankles, probably from the fall–and the cuts, the bruises, the blood scent thick in his nose. He’s so tired.
He wants to die at home, he wants to die at home.
“Oh, he sounds like a wounded animal… let’s put him out of his misery.” A voice said. Cold fear grips Etho’s heart, and he stumbles forward–the porch is in sight!
Let him die at home. Let him die at home.
A shadow fills his vision, and Etho’s not even had time to lift his shield before blinding pain fills his stomach, and it’s over.
He’s not allowed that creature comfort of dying at home.
#secret life#secret life smp#ethoslab#zombiecleo#cletho#secret life spoilers#my fics#tw death#I don't have an explanation at all for this#Is this cohesive?? i wrote it in a daze. in under thirty minutes#if it's not great OH WELL#this is how i am coping#god i'm never gonna feel okay again about them#never ever#i'm fucking insane#bursts into tears
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How about a Yandere! Monster Mimic, where falling in love with a human reader...
(The mimic is a shapeshifting monster that can transform into an object or anyone it has seen, of course it can revert to its true amorphous form if it wants to.)
another non-human of for my blog? yes, please.
MY NON-HUMAN HUSBAND IS PERFECT!
➽ context warnings: male! yandere but he can shapeshift, fluffy content, gn! reader, mentioned cheating but nothing happening, also there isn’t much warning in this one.
➽ word count: 1.8k
➽ synopsis: your monster husband is the best thing to ever happen to you and there is no way you could forget him for that.
➽ yandere! mimic monster x gn! reader
➽ a/n: so you know when shows/anime have small segments inside the same episode (like saiki kusuo and the way of a househusband)? if the answer is yes, then i can tell you that i have write this since i watch them recently and got in the mood for something different compared to my past works. also, shot out to me if there is any mistaken down here!
tv show!
a soup opera is at the tv and smash can’t take his eyes off the screen, not even hearing you calling him to eat. instead, he just keep changing his appearance every time a new actor show up at the scene.
“nash!” you called him, but falling to gain his attention when he doesn’t even bet an eye at you. “it’s time for dinner, remember?”
no answer, he keep watching the tv on his own as the show continues to show the leads going to a wedding between another characters. the humanoid creature returned to his original form when seeing the groom and the bride kissing each other at the altar, afterwards he turn to see you and it was easy to understand what he wants to learn about the scene.
“to make the marriage officially end, the groom and the bride have to kiss each other after promising to spend their lifes together.” you replied. “but something they don’t work together and split up after. it’s common to happen, just like it happened to my uncle and aunt.”
he nodded, taking your words to consideration before going back to watch the soup opera, but this time with a bowl of rice that he began devouring without hesitation. nash always acts like he hasn’t eaten in days, when in fact, he had breakfast and lunch not long ago.
decided that you won’t dry the dishes for now, you took a place next to nash on the couch, watching the tv with him in silence. without taking his many pairs of eyes of the screen, he pulls you closer by his crawl, making you rest your head at his arm.
a smile grown on your lips when he does that, not only that makes you feel safer, but also relaxes your mind. it’s a sweet reminder that nash cares about you, even though he never spoken a word to you and the fact of him being whatever he is doesn’t change how much you care about him.
the cat
it already the third time that nash ended with his face full of cuts and bruises after another failed attempt of petting the stray cat that comes around home. you would be laughing if the whole event wasn’t sad, well at least, to his eyes.
“don’t cry, baby.” the sniff coming from the creature has become a common scene since the first time the stray cat has visited you and the cat always left after making nash’s face their newest canvas. “i’m sure that one day, the stray will become more docile and let you pet their fur. maybe even entering our house to sleep with us.”
he continues to sob regardless of yours words, but he remains still under your care when applying another band aid to his face. it’s a unique scene to have a two meter creature full of colorful band aids on his face, like he has been a victim of children’s drawing.
after you finished taking care of him, nash move away from your touch and made his way out towards outside the cabin, where he began sunbathing and stare out into the sky. to make sure he won’t get in trouble, you took a seat at the couch from the front porch, watching nash resting the sun and not giving much thought to the the wild animals that live around the cabin.
the breeze hitting your body makes you drowsy and your eyes can’t hold much longer, not after working hours and hours to fix the roof before the winter comes around. a yawn escapes your lips before you start feeling tired and your mind begging you to fall asleep after working long hours, but another side of you is forcing your mind to stay awake to spend more time with nash. and speaking of him, the monster approaches you with something in his arms.
“what it is, nash? another worm or grasshopper?” you asked, but seeing his smile reaching both of his ears confirms that it’s something even better. “show me.”
and he does. in his arms rests the stray cat that has been visiting the cabin for the past few weeks, but today it seems friendly, showing no signs of aggression towards nash as it usually does. because of that, he looks happier with the cat peacefully sleeping in his arms like a baby.
the scene itself is an adorable one, something that could easily come out from a kids’ shows and you could smile at nash for finally befriending the cat. your husband look so happy when snuggling the small animal, almost like he wasn’t crying just moments ago from being rejected from said animal.
the smile on your face grown more on your lips when you patted the stray cat, seeing the tiny animal enjoying being on nash’s laps only made you relaxed more, specially when he sat next to you to let you pat the cat even more.
“do you want to keep it?” he nodded, enthusiastic about the idea. “then, we should get a few things for the little one tomorrow when going to the town. got it?” he nodded again.
another yawn came out of your lips, making nash ware of your tiredness and he adjusted your head to be the one laying on his shoulder. even with your eyes closing, you can feel his form shape into a soft fur that makes you wonder if he knows that you love when he does that.
“im going to take a nap, wake me up in a hour or so…” and with that, you began dreaming on nash’s shoulder and he couldn’t be happier to have you by one side and the cat in the other side of his arm. the two most important things to him in the same place.
the old lady and the store
“i know your secret, young blood.”
your eyes widen open when the old lady’s words reached your ears, it’s only seven in the morning and there is already a problem that you need to solve...did nash got in another trouble with the town people? you hope not.
“my secret?” you played like you didn’t know what she is talking about, pretending to be a fool is an easy job for you. “i think you are mistaken, lady. i am nothing, but a mere normal hunter that lives in the woods.”
she didn’t buy your words, not when a grin suddenly emerged at her thin lips, you could already guess the many words that she would say about nash and you can imagine how the townspeople will hunt down nash. however, you stood quiet in front of the balcony, pretending to be a normal hunter while the old lady just stared at you.
“don’t play the idiot, kid.” she got up from her seat, even being shorter than you, the lady knows how to make her presence known and scary. “i know that young hunters like you always have your dirty secrets inside those wooden cabin.”
you only stared at her, not saying any words as she walked closer to you to take a better look at how shaken you have gotten with her intimidation. it’s hilarious that a hunter would be a the mercy of an old widow lady like her, one that barely hits your shoulder, the others would laugh at this scene.
“tell me, young blood.” her voice is now like a thunder stomping inside your head. there is no other clients at the store, so she didn’t need to low her voice at you. “how many people are you sleeping with?”
.
..
…
….
“excuse me? i-i am not sleeping around!”
the old lady laughed at your reaction, not caring if her loudness would reach outside the market, everyone of the town knows better than spying at her. it’s clear to those who could hear outside that you have become her newest victim to her attention and curiosity.
“please, kid.” she patted your shoulder when returning to her seat behind the balcony, this time with the biggest smile you ever saw at her lips. “i know everything about everyone at this small place and i know that you have been *hanging out* around with different people by every week that you comes to the town to sell your goods.”
“you are mistaken, lady!” you tried to make her rethink about the subject, but you quickly realized that she won’t hear you, not when she already looks absolutely certain about your ‘affairs’.
“don’t worry, kid. i won’t tell your husband about it.” she winked, giving you an even big smile when referring about your so called ‘partner’. “after all, i was just like you during my young days. full of beauty and grace, ready to make anyone fall to my feet and trust me, i was good at it~”
her rambling gains an extra awkwardness when you remember that nash did took many humans forms when coming to the town for the past months with you. he would often take different appearances when accompanying you, sometimes he would resemble a bombshell girl from those old magazines or maybe a good looking man from those old spies movies that you often caught him watching instead of sleeping.
well, at the bright side of this situation. the old lady believes you are sleeping around, not that you share the house with someone not human…so things are going good for you, right?
“that’s nice to hear, lady.” your lips curves into an nervous smile when she hands the products and that you quickly put inside your bag, wanting to leave fast as possible. “but i got to go, you know, to meet one of my ‘contacts’.”
she stares at you, again with her classic smile that reaches both of her eyes, “don’t forget to tell me about it when you come back to shop!” and with that, you finally leave the market with your bag full of stuff for the incoming winter.
the path back home was a peaceful one, no wild animals has tried to approach you and the rain didn’t start yet, so nothing has happened during your walk. once you have arrived at the cabin, nash welcomed you with open arms and brought you to a hug and began acting so happy, like you haven’t seen him in years.
nash brings you inside the cabin to show that he didn’t mess with anything during your absence nor has the cat destroyed the interior like you would expected, the small feline is still asleep in the same place you saw before going to the town. showing that he did succeed with his goals, nash helped you organize the things you’ve brought around the house.
it’s always a nice view seeing him becoming taller than you to organize the higher shelves of the kitchen and the storage room. thanks to him, you don’t need to bring the ladder from the basement. and with his assistance, the two of you arranged the foods rapidly and efficiently, leaving time to the two of you relax for the rest of the day.
@moonit3 writings
#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere writing#yandere male#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x gender neutral y/n#x gender neutral reader#gender neutral insert#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#my oc nash#➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings
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Hey, would I be able to may a request for the Sentience ask?
Would I be able to request a female player who is torn between Leona and Malleus? Constantly going back and forth and leveling their cards and loving on both of them please?
Hi! I Hope it’s okay that I made the reader gender-neutral, because I’m more comfortable writing that way. Thank you for understanding.
Sentience presents:
Claws and Flames
Self Aware Leona x Malleus x reader
Tw: yandere, suggestive
The silence gets unbearable, sometimes.
Leona’s hand is rough. Hardened with callouses, scraping against your wrist like sandpaper. He holds you firmly, just like a shackle around your arm. Keeping you bound, right next to him.
Where you belong.
Shifting around, your lips curl into a straight line. Wiggling your arm ever so slightly. In an attempt to slip out of his grip as discreetly as you could.
A snarl stops you right in your tracks. It rumbles like thunder right out of the depths of his gut. A guttural sound that has your entire bloodstream run ice-cold. You freeze, before willing your arm limp once more.
That seems to pacify the beast beside you. Heaving a long sigh that weighed on both of your shoulders, Carmel locks of hair brush against the nape of your neck. Leona plops himself onto his side, leaning into your body.
An oversized house cat, you mused silently. Instinctually, your other hand reached for his mane, running your fingers through gingerly. Massaging his scalp absentmindedly.
“Soft..” You mutter, twirling a strand in between your fingers. Leona merely acknowledges you with a grunt, and a dismal swish of his tail. He seems to lean a little closer, despite his nonchalant attitude.
A beat of silence passes between both of you, before he decided to speak up. Leona straightens up, emerald eyes meeting yours. There was a certain intensity behind those eyes that made you shudder.
“Softer then that lizard would ever be, huh?”
A soft chuckle emerged from behind both of you. The amused laugh of one so assured of victory. Gloved hands caress the curve of your cheeks gingerly, fingertips lingering on the plush of your lips before they pull away. The warmth tingled ever so slightly, before vanishing into thin air.
A weight pressed itself into your other shoulder. Ebony hair spilled onto you, as glossy as raven’s feathers. Something sharp jutted into your face. A pair of horns, sharp as daggers.
One wrong move, and they might just draw blood.
Your lips move before you could even form a complete thought.
“Malleus…”
The sound of your voice seems to delight him. Nuzzling into the curve of your neck, Malleus beams at you happily. Lips curling into a bright smile, eyes looking at you and you alone.
A dry cough, choked out onto a clenched fist. Leona narrows his eyes at Malleus, gaze shape enough to wound. He speaks, each and every letter of his words dripping with venom.
“What are you doing here, Draconia?”
Tilting his head politely, Malleus opts to ignore Leona’s words. He instead contents himself with pressing his lips into the bare skin of your neck. It’s warm, like the cockles of a roaring fireplace. Giving you a little peck of… affection, so to say.
Satisfied with his kiss, Malleus glances up at Leona. The ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips.
“I don’t hear my darling complaining about my presence, Kingscholar. Perhaps I am favoured a little more then you… were.”
A growl falls from Leona’s lips, before you feel his grip on your chin. Pressing hard enough to bruise, he yanks you towards him, trapping your lips within his. By the time he’s done, you’re a stuttering mess, lungs desperately scrambling for air.
“Ain’t no complaints on this end too, coat hanger.”
Leona drawls, smugness radiating off his very being.
Both of them glare at each other, before their gazes fall on you. An unspoken question burning within both of their stares. This wouldn’t be the first time they asked.
Just who do you favour?
You’ve chosen silence time and time again. Being honest, you do care for them both. Investing your time and resources into both of their cards, cheering for them both in the story. It’s safe to say you loved them both… when you were still on the opposite side of the screen, that is.
Now, you’re caught between two walls of flame. Swirling passions lapping at you with forked tongues, hungry for every crumb of affection you could dispense. Choosing one over the other will surely send the other into turmoil. The resulting destruction wasn’t something you wished onto this world.
So you remain silent. The heat was still bearable… for now.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#malleus Draconia#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus#Leona Kingscholar#Leona Kingscholar x reader#Leona x reader#Leona#sentience#self aware au
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“the type to…” ; anemo boys
details — he’s really just this type of guy.
characters — heizhou, kazuha, wanderer, venti, and xiao (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, some of them could be platonic of romantic, no type of relationship stated, not proof-read ; headcanons/scenario
words — 1740
note — decided to let go of a longtime friendship (^^)/
;; 🐚
KAZUHA, the type to wake up in the morning before you and instead of waking you up also, he would rather prefer watching you sleep, admiring each of your features and memorizing the lines on your face, burning the memory in his mind. with the sun already rising, sunlight had seeped into the room, gently laying on the floor and your face like spilled honey. his happiness and peace came in the form of you, in the morning as he watches you sleep before you stir and open your eyes, smiling at him as soon as you see him—“why did you not wake me up?” you would say to him and what could he tell you aside from “i love you”?
KAZUHA, the type to kiss you on your forehead as soon as he sees you rouse up from your sleep, spilling warmth from his lips as he greets you, “did you have a good sleep?” with the most gentle of smiles. he seeps affection into your skin, burying into your bones, leaving traces of him in the crevices of your mind. also the type to often get up before you so he could cook breakfast and bring it to you on your bed as soon as you wake up; “how did you sleep, love?”
KAZUHA, the type to be extremely clingy and affectionate; the type to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you from the behind, burying his face on the skin of your neck and letting out a satisfied sigh with his worries dissipating along with it. but double the clinginess when he’s drunk or upset, he’s affectionately drunk in a way that he clings to you like a koala is to a tree and wouldn’t want you leaving his side—immediately grabs you and pulls you back to him when you try to do so. when he’s upset, however, he tends to be silent and would rather just have you hug him and listen to the sound of your heartbeat which puts him at ease.
;; ⭐️
XIAO, the type who fears for the day where he will yearn for your touch but will never get to feel it again; afraid that he’ll love you forever and will never be able to have you in the same room as him. nothing had made him sadder knowing that one day, he will never see you again. wouldn’t it be weird to say that loving you puts him in such a feeling of grief? he wished he had known you sooner, he wish he was given the opportunity to be by your side earlier, he wished he could have loved you longer than he had known you; “it’s a pleasure to be seen by you.” a mumble, a whisper of confession before a reply came, “thank you for letting yourself be known.”
XIAO, the type to always want to spend time together, whether it’s just in a peaceful moment of tranquility when the two of you are cuddling each other or while you two are doing their own thing while near each other—it’s more like wanting to be by each other’s side more than passing time together. he indulges in the serenity of the silence whenever the moment arrives, it’s like a breath of fresh air, the spring wind that makes the flowers sway and lulls his heart into a gentle rhythm.
XIAO, the type to always hold your hand everywhere, anywhere, even when the two of you are walking, sitting beside or across each other, or whenever the two of you are together in general. the moment he notices the lack of your hand on his, he will take an immediate action to rid of that absence—seeping the warmth of his hand on yours, locking fingers, and giving it a small squeeze. oftentimes, he’ll draw circles on your skin with his thumb. it’s just a subconscious habit that he does whenever he’s way too focused on something. the softness of yours eases his mind and seemingly, all of his problems disappear. there was no solace and meaning in his life but today there was and right now, comfort was found in the lines of your palm and the tenderness of your hand.
;; 🔍
HEIZHOU, the type to make you laugh a lot, a connoisseur of bad jokes, puns, and terrible dad jokes that will never fail to pull a chuckle out of your throat. he has a lot of things to talk to you about, a lot of things to tell you and occupy your ears—he’ll often blurt out trivias that he have discovered, quotes that he have heard and read, and everything. he just tells you so many things, fascinating or anything, and it feels like he’s a walking book of facts and information.
HEIZHOU, the type to notice the smallest things about you. he’s a detective, a man with a sharp mind and keen observation, how could he not notice the way you style your hair a little bit different than usual or the way sadness ghosted over your smile whenever you think of a distant memory—or perhaps it was something along the lines of nostalgia and yearning. he’ll catch on the smallest details of you, etches it in the crevices of his mind and burned in his memory; “isn’t that your favorite color?” he asks, pointing at a flower standing alone in a small patch of grass, and you knit your eyebrows for a moment before turning to look at him, “how did you know?”, which only causes him to shrug, acting as if it was just a lucky guess when it was all because he sees your gaze lingering over a particular shade or noticing the way your features soften at the sight of that particular hue.
HEIZHOU, he always seems to look after you, always there when you’re about to trip and fall, always there to open the jar that is sealed, particularly shut, always there to cheer you up and put a smile on your face, as if he’s meant to be there, as if he’s fated to be by your side; he’s just always there. “aren’t you tired of me? you’re always taking care and looking after me,” curiosity fell from your lips as you murmured, worry lacing your voice. “never,” he whispered back, tenderly, repeating: “not if it’s you.”
;; 🎧
VENTI, the type to dance with you, spinning you around as he watches your hair lovingly swaying along with the wind, and he adores the way butterflies flit inside his stomach as he admires you. moments like this just reminds him of the first time he met you or to be exact, first ever saw you: happiness fluttered around you in a similar way a flower would dance with the wind, and he knew by then he wanted to be around you, that he had to be beside you—your heart is just so full of warmth, it is difficult not to be distracted by it.
VENTI, the type to take you out on dates during the night, treating it as some sort of adventure even though he has everything laid out from his mind—from the time, from the things he’s supposed to say, and to the path you’ll take that will bring you to a hidden spot with the most impressive and stupendous scenery. he’ll have everything prepared there, the blanket, the food, and of course, the wine to which makes you wonder when did he plan all of these although you never raised the question to him.
VENTI, the type to compliment you a lot. never will there be a day that he doesn’t fill your ears with praises—it’s a variety, not sticking to one, and always different each day. he’ll tell you the color you chose for your clothing suits you, he’ll praise your cooking skills even if you think it’s mediocre, he’ll flatter you and the style for your hair, he’ll tell you that he adores your smile every morning and he loves waking up to it, and everything. he doesn’t hesitate in saying such things, is not afraid to convey his affections to you—if only you could truly see yourself in his eyes, breathtakingly beautiful, so. simply, you were just the type of person people would write songs about; “how could you always be so lovely in every single day? even the flowers would envy you.”
;; 🎐
WANDERER, the type of man who you wish the world was kinder to, you would have wished the past would have been easy to him but what can you do? it had already happened, it left scars and wounds on his skin, and all you could do was kiss and murmur words on it, and hope that it would make him feel a little bit better. you could do nothing about his past but only be there for him throughout it all, hoping to create a future that he can look forward to even if it meant you not being there in it; “why are you like this?” he says, seemingly confused and afraid of the gentle unfamiliarity of tenderness and affection.
WANDERER, the type to not credit for anything. he gave you something that you’ve been longing to have? he just happened to got it and thought you might like it. what about the party or celebration that was arranged for you? he didn’t do much, he just sprinkled a little bit of his efforts even when he was the one who handled everything. the blanket that was placed on you when you fell asleep somewhere that isn’t your bed? you’d look stupid with a cold, he wouldn’t want you catching it.
WANDERER, the type to not show his feelings through words but rather with actions instead, and oftentimes with gifts. however, the same goes for him. he’s not used to such words, often responding to it in quite a mean manner by brushing it off and rolling his eyes but trust me and just observe his reaction carefully—he would turn away from you but despite that, you could still see the way his ears redden. he simply doesn’t know how to take it, only knowing how to either ignore it or somewhat agree with it, stating that it is only a must that you love him and that you should stay by his side for eternity that will come. he adores you, he really does and it’s way more than you might think, he’s just unable to convey it in a manner that you will understand so he does it in his own way in which is not hard for you to grasp the meaning behind it.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin fluff#wanderer headcanons#wanderer x reader#genshin wanderer#venti x reader#genshin venti#heizhou x reader#genshin heizou#genshin kazuha#kazuha x reader#xiao x reader#genshin xiao#genshin x you#scaramouche x reader#azul.writes
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Can we get a yuta x fem!reader where he saves reader in Shibuya just in time after not seeing her this whole year?
sounds like a plan to me, let's do it hehe
Yuta saving your ass in Shibuya
Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,7k
Synopsis: You have enough. After fighting for multiple hours in Shibuya, you are the brink of giving up your life, of giving up the pondering about a future with Yuta. Little do you know he's already on his way to Shibuya...
Warnings: language, TW! reader accepts the threat of death (and kinda wants to die), angst but comfort, not fully proofread
„Fuck!“, you cry on top of your lungs, bruised fingertips digging themselves into the debris underneath.
You are so damn tired. Tired of the horrible things you had to endure on this cursed evening, tired of all the senseless fighting, tired of death crawling up your spine. Maybe you just have to realize that your time has come, that you’ll be next. After all those people losing their lives today, it’s finally your turn.
“I’ve done enough”, you mutter to yourself.
The countless creatures in front of you cry out while storming towards you again. The people behind you scream in horror, so scared of dying that it wrenches your heart.
Why? Why do you have to be so damn emotional about this, so wrecked by their helplessness? You shouldn’t bother about their fate at all, should just sit here and await your very own relief in silence.
But instead, you lift yourself back up and draw your sword. Again and again, you slash into their bodies, paint the town around you in purple. Every fiber of your being begs you to stop, to just run away and never return, to sit down and let them slice your head off to end this madness once and for all.
It was definitely easier when he was still around. Yuta Okkotsu, special grade, probably the strongest after Satoru.
And the boy you hopelessly fell in love with until he decided to leave you behind. It’s been a year since you’ve last seen him, a year since you really talked to each other. Damn, how much you wished to see him one more time before you die, to at least tell him about your unwavering feelings. Why the hell are you so attached to him after all this time anyway?
But Yuta Okkotsu isn’t enough. The unsaid words between you two aren’t enough motivation to keep going after you’ve seen Nanami die, after both of Toge’s arms got sliced off, after Sukuna almost killed you.
No. You are so damn tired of it all. Fuck your pathetic life, fuck those people you don’t even know.
“I…I can’t…do…it…anymore”, you huff out.
Like in slow motion, your bloody blades glides out of your weak grip, falling onto the ground with a loud clinking.
This is it. Your final moment on this earth. Maybe that huge curse will bite your head off and let it all end quickly. Hopefully you wake up somewhere nice, maybe at a beach or something. And maybe, just maybe, your brain is able to trick you one last time into thinking that he’s here, that he thought about you as well, that Yuta Okkotsu didn’t forget about your existence.
Just a single moment and it will be over. Just one last breath in this cursed place.
You allow yourself to close your eyes, the desperate cries for help fading into the background. The pain that holds your body, all the horrible things you’ve seen…You smile to yourself gently while sitting down. It’s finally over. Now you’re finally able to rest.
And so you wait in silence for their sharp teeth, for them to finally slice your head off. But something seems off…You furrow your eyebrows. What has gotten into this thing? Is it full already? No, these monsters never get enough. It has to me something else.
“Hey, are you alright?”
You hold your breath, eyes snapping open in an instant. That familiar voice, that white uniform…You glare straight into the stranger’s face.
But no, that isn’t a stranger.
This is Yuta Okkotsu.
“(y/n), is that really you? What were you doing here? That curse could have killed you!”
His words don’t fully reach your ears, cries of the curse who gets eaten alive by Rika ringing in your ears. This can’t be true. He…He wasn’t even on the continent. How did he get here? And why on earth is he standing right in front of you?
Suddenly thick anger rises up your chest. Anger because he your left without really telling you. Anger because he didn’t write or reply to your messages frequently, anger because Yuta never seemed to fully care about you after the year you’ve spent together, after the secret kiss you’ve shared. And now he’s standing in front of you with that single droplet of sweat running down his face, asking what you are doing here.
“You have some fucking nerve”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
You lift your trembling figure off the ground, pushing him backwards with all the strength you have left only to stumble over your worn-out legs.
“You disappear for a whole damn year, never really care about me and then you ask my what I’m doing here!? Do you want to know what I did? I tried to save these people, tried to justify the countless dead jujutsu sorcerers, tried to free Gojo-sensei! What were you doing all this time, why didn’t you even ca-“
With a swift motion, he gets down and wraps his arms around you, cages you against his body. No, you don’t want to be near him, you need to get away, you…
Can’t help but cry.
“Why did you leave me here without saying anything?”, you mutter desperately, fists banging weakly against his chest.
Fuck, why does it have to feel so comforting, why do you have to realize just how much you missed him and the way he holds you? Why does it have to be so damn hard to stay mad at him when all you need right now is a big comforting hug?
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all those things. When I heard what happens here in Shibuya, when no one could tell me that you’re safe…On my flight back here I regretted over and over that I didn’t have the guts to tell you how I feel”, he whispers against your bloody ear.
“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me I wasn’t too late”, he begs.
Gently, he lifts up your face, forces you to get lost in his blue eyes. Oh, how badly you want to push him away, tell him to leave this place and let you die. But instead, you just stare at him, watch how he scans your body, your countless injuries.
“How long have you been fighting here alone?”, he mutters.
“4 hours. Maybe a little longer. I lost count some time ago”, you mumble, tired eyes still set on him.
He looks so different from when you last saw him. How is it even possible to turn from a boy to a man in the matter of one year? His chest seems wider, jawline even sharper, eyes clearer than ever before. But what changed the most is the way he carries himself. The man in front of you isn’t insecure and fearful. No, he seems absolutely aware of his immense powers, killing of that grade 1 curse with ease.
“You look shocked.”
“I definitely am. After all, a ghost is talking to me”, you reply dryly.
What hasn’t change is the fact that his eyes seem to be the mirror of his feelings, instantly filling with sorrow by the sound of your harsh tone.
“I didn’t want to leave you behind. But…I had no other choice, (y/n)! I owed it to myself and Riko-“
“Oh, so now it’s Rika and you, huh?”, you bark.
Enough. You stand up faster than expected, shooting back up only to lose balance and falling back into Yuta’s open arms.
“Hey, slow down. You have to be exhausted.”
“Yes. Yes I am fucking exhausted. Exhausted from that senseless fighting, exhausted from hearing your excuses! What was the real reason you just left me in the dark? Was it because of Rika, because you don’t care about me like that? You should have thought about that before you kissed me the night before you went to different continent-“
“Trust me, I thought about you all the time, I loved you all the time, (y/n)! It was just as hard for me as it was to you. The last thing I wanted was to leave after that night, but I had no other choice. It was my only chance to train properly, to get the best of me. If I could, I would have taken you with me straight away. But I couldn’t. And I’ll probably never forgive myself for leaving you alone in this mess, for almost losing you!”
He grabs your face passionately, makes you forget how to breathe. Is this really Yuta Okkotsu talking to you? Is this really Yuta Okkotsu leaning closer, his lips only inches away from yours.
“I loved you through everything, (y/n). And I hope you did as well.”
“Are you serious?”, you breathe out, staring at him in sheer disbelief.
“You were the only thing on my mind all this time. You and…that I never told you that I love you”, you blurt out.
You aren’t even able to turn away from him. In the matter of seconds, his lips are pressed against yours. Just like the last time you’ve seen each other, just like he did at his dorm a year ago. Sparks fly, your heart shivers in sheer excitement. Oh, you’ll definitely not forget that he just left you, that he didn’t message you on a regular basis.
But at the moment, you just close your eyes and let the sensation of his hands caressing your face while his lips brush over yours so tenderly sink in. Just a few minutes ago, you were kneeling on the ground, ready to let yourself get killed here in Shibuya. And now he’s here. The countless nights you pondered when he’ll come back, how he’ll act, how he’ll look.
When reality is so much better.
“I promise that I’ll never leave you again. I’ll make it up to you”, he mumbles against your parted lips.
“I sure hope so.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi@weebotaku21@chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345
@polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez@belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk yuta#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#yuta x you#jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#jjk okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta#yuuta okkotsu#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk shibuya incident#jjk shibuya arc#shibuya incident#jjk hurt#jjk hurt/comfort#jjk angst#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk imagines
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i absolutely love the prompt you have "I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night" cause major swiftie and I will only read that like she says it in stay stay stay so can you pretty please to conrad x reader with that prompt when you get the chance tysm take ur time
Silly little one I forgot I started writing a week ago
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
The best relationship advice your mother ever gave to you was that you should never leave a fight unresolved or go to bed mad at each other. You and Conrad had been pretty good at doing that…until last night.
To be fair, the whole situation had everyone on edge.
After his exam, you and Conrad emptied his dorm and hit the road. He had slept less than five hours last night so you kindly offered to drive while he caught up on sleep. Everything was going well, until you accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in a totally different place. You tried to get back on the right road, but panicked when you couldn’t figure a way…then Conrad woke up, grumpy and still tired, and started criticizing your driving skills.
To add to the situation, rain and thunder decided to join you. A little rain and thunder didn’t scare Conrad, but they decided to close the highway, forcing the two of you to stay at a motel for the night.
You showered and changed out of your wet clothes, while Conrad did his own thing. When you came out, he was there, in his pajamas, taking out extra blankets from the closet and setting them on the floor.
Getting what he was doing, you stopped him. ‘’You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous.’’
You had a fight, but you weren’t that mad at him. He just struck a nerve.
Conrad's tired eyes met yours, but he didn’t say anything as he moved his pillow to the bed. He drew back the covers and laid down, his back turned to you.
A knot formed in your stomach, hurt, and you turned off the lamp, plunging the room in the dark without exchanges of ‘goodnight’s. Rare were the occasions where you and Conrad were sharing a bed and alone, but instead of taking advantage of it, you were caught in an uncomfortable silence where neither of you found sleep.
You tried to close your eyes, but couldn’t. So you listened to the loud rumbles of thunder and the tapping of the rain until your eyes couldn’t stay open.
Just as you were about to fall asleep, Conrad spoke.
‘’What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it,’’ he said in the quiet of the room, knowing you weren’t asleep either. ‘’I’m sorry. You’re not the worse driver I know.’’
A tired smile twisted on your lips...and you felt yourself drifting to sleep.
When you woke up, the morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the motel room. The rain from last night had finally subsided, meaning you’ll be able to get back on the road and go home.
Beside you, Conrad was still sleeping. You watched him for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. It might sound dumb, but you missed him.
You heard a muffled groan, getting excited as Conrad slowly stirred. His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the daylight coming from the window, and you chuckled. You didn’t think of drawing the curtains all the way last night.
‘’Morning,’’ you greeted with a soft smile, brushing hair from his face.
"I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night," he said, his voice a little deeper from sleep.
You rolled your eyes. ‘’You’re exaggerating.’’
Conrad sighed, looking up at the stucco ceiling. ‘’We had this big fight over something so stupid—’’
‘’Real relationships are not perfect, Con. Even the ones who seem perfect aren’t. They fight with their partners and that’s totally normal. We’re not gonna break up because I didn’t pay enough attention and took a wrong turn. That’s ridiculous.’’
There was a silent pause, then Conrad laughed.
—
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup
TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @bchindureyes @bellysbeach @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise
#conrad fisher#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher fanfic#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty
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eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number
call me if you need a groupie — e.m.
yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)
pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)
warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)
He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.
Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.
But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.
So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.
He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.
You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?
Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.
Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.
“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.
“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.
His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.
Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.
“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.
“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”
“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.
If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.
He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.
He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.
Until all he could taste was you.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.
“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.
And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.
His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.
He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.
His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.
Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.
He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.
“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.
“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.
“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.
Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.
“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.
Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?
Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.
Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.
But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.
Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.
“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.
“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.
“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.
“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.
“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.
You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"
There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.
“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.
He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.
“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you
“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.
"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.
“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.
The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.
Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.
“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.
You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.
“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.
Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?
“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.
But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.
“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.
“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.
“It's...perfect.”
“Really?”
“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.
You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.
You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.
Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.
Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.
“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.
He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.
He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.
Your sketch. On his arm.
You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.
You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.
You.
Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.
The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.
How much cooler were you going to get?
He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.
He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.
Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.
God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.
“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.
“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.
“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.
And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.
Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.
But this was more than that, it pained him.
It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.
His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.
He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.
“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.
“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.
“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.
Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.
And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.
“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.
And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.
“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.
“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.
You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.
He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.
'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.
His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.
He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.
Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?
His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.
“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.
“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.
“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.
“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.
“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.
“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.
“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.
“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.
“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x tattoo artist!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine
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