#These 4 are chaos gremlins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deadghosy · 11 months ago

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HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER

prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.

Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-

You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.

…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily

After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel

You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.

I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.

The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone

BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭

“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.

You’re just a little gremlin :D

Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.

“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.

LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”

I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.

“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.

The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.

“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.

Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.

“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.

Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.

Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.

“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.

You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.

Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!

You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.

Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.

“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round

Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.

I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.

Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.

Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.

Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.

“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.

Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.

Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕

Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.

Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.

Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.

“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.

You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭

“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.

Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you.

The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.

Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.

You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.

I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.

Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.

Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.

Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.

Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.

See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.

I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?

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evilminji · 2 years ago

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....Damian picked a REALLY good way to bond, ngl. I bet Danny is incredibly touched? Like everyone's always "oh you can't do that D:< " etc but here is his new brother looking him calmly in the eyes saying "he has hurt you? Torn your family apart and made your childhood hell? Then I will help you make him pay. I believe you when you say he deserves this." Like?? 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭 b-bro *is extremely touched* *new favorite brother achieved*

They aren't gonna WIN, mind you. Santa has canonical fought and delivered to both Satan AND Darseid, ANNUALLY. WHILE they knew he was coming. Plus he has the devastating surprise final attack that WILL absolutely win the day against Danny..... he's a genuinely, incredibly, unrestrainedidly Good & Kind old man who just wants to help people and make people happy. He WOULD let Danny destroy him, after giving it "his all" (for the children!), if that meant Danny could be happy again. Could be healed.

But it WON'T. And Danny's gonna know that, standing over the "defeated" Santa. It was his parents. THEY ruined Christmas. THEY chose to fight. THEY decided being right... was more important... then... he was... oh. Oh.

All he wanted was his family together. Santa can't bring that though can he?

But he CAN, and he points to the Bats, fighting along side him or to stop him from making a terrible mistake because they CARE. And Santa is sorry it took him so long to get him his present, families don't fit in boxes you see, and it took a while for him to make his case to Fate. He wore them down though~! *cheerful old man twinkle*

And GDI now Danny can't be MAD at him? Stop that! Cease and desist! I still hate your holiday! *trying to be upset and failing noises, mostly just old sorrows healing and general grumbles noises* And Santa's like, that's COMPLETELY OKAY, young man! Bouncing up like "lol, suprise, I actually LET you wail on me but I'm in reality completely fine! I did it to make you feel better AND IT WORKED TOO" to much outraged squawking and "You played me!" "Like a Cheap Kazoo! :D " (sassy santa?! Noooo now Danny REALLY has to like him!!! You bastard!)

Cause like? Santa doesn't care ONE BIT if you buy the tree or do the decorations or any of the commercialism bits of holiday. He cares if you are TOGETHER with those you love and are happy. Split a cupcake and call it a night for all he cares, as long as you do it together and tried to be/do good during the year leading up to it. Which Danny can't argue with. Stop being so Nice and Wholesome, Santa! He wanted to PUNCH SOMEBODY to get some catharsis damn it! He can't punch nice old men!

"Tell ya what," *gentle hand on the shoulder, cheerful eye twinkle ✨* "when it comes time to deliver? You want to come help me deliver a very special piece of coal to Darkseid? You can be my honorary elf for the day."

Danny learns the true meaning of Christmas.... Violence against parademons. Close enough? It's a work in progress.

Fade to credits on the Dc×Dp Christmas special!

Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa

Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?

So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.

Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).

And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.

And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.

Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:

“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.

“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.

Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.

“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”

Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.

“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”

Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.

He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”

Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”

Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.

#dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #batpham #batfam #danny hates christmas so fucking much #Bruce didn't know this kid was a half ghost god-king of an entire infinite dimension of death he just saw a sad kid in a bad situation #it wouldn't have changed anything if he'd known Danny had adoption bait written all over him #but he at least would have been able to better prepare for the kind of supernatural shenanigans that would pop up #Duke took one look at 4 of his brothers standing around a burning christmas tree at 3 in the morning holding gas cans & lighters & thought:#not my circus not my monkeys #he was the day shift vigilante he didn't get paid to deal with his family's shit in the middle of the night #he didn't get paid *period* he wasn't going to do volunteer chaos gremlin wrangling #Dick just wanted *one* day of relative quiet #he should have known that wasn't going to happen #Santa has been PLANNING this redemption arc for years #the Doctors Fenton be getting SO MUCH COAL #Naughty list for them #they had ONE JOB #Santa gonna save this kid from his anger and give him a healthy outlet if its the last thing he does #dc×dp Christmas Special

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ch4bby · 3 days ago

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I got excited by so many people seeing my last post ( 〃．．)

Soooo here's another one that I did some days ago.

AND YES, TIM HAS A RESTING BITCH DEFAULT FACE, EEEEPP

(Two of them can fly. Will they? Who knows- And THATS core 4 for me)

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year ago

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How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child.

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine.

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open.

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word.

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

…

...

By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend?

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.”

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies.

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up.

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison.

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place.

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

...

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.

#twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twst grim #lilia vanrouge #deuce spade #ace trappola #there will be more x reader stuff in future chapters #soooo #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #loosely inspired off of labyrinth and some other fae media; but very loosely #majority of this should be original with some tie ins from the movie #i wrote like 9 K in may for this idea and haven't touched it since; it took me like a week to rewrite this 4.6 K and i deleted some stuff #don't be precious; delete your art (from drawfee)#the length of this may be dictated from how much traction and interaction it gets #gilf enjoyers rejoice #twst labyrinth au #<- kinda but not really; we shall see #to clarrify; there is nothing in the brownies; the brownies are just run of the mill brownies #will be making a masterlist for this series; just so i don't break diasomnia's sooner than the others #there's also going to be a break in fic updates in october; but more on that later #btw everything grim did; my cats have done; the 'bat' was a mouse though and not lilia vanrouge from twisted wonderland #also labyrinth gave me nightmares as a child cuz i was terrified of puppets; and i had the same reaction as adeuce at his pants #first time posting a multi-chapter fic; let's see how this goes

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lefteagleblizzard · 2 months ago

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𝔖𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔶 Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend. Mike Schmidt works as Santa at a mall (not the one he punched a guy), with the reader getting flustered around him in the costume. This then culminates into Mike noticing and putting reader on his lap and asking if he's been a good boy this year with the obvious smut ensuing.

Tags: Part 11 of this series of Mike Schmidt x male reader but can be read as a standalone with no problems. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is annoyed by everything. Lots of teasing.Reader being called a good boy. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex. Riding.

Words count: 2500 words

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8 -Part 9-Part 10-Part 12-Part 13

The mall was alive with a symphony of holiday cheer, its corridors decked with vibrant garlands and oversized ornaments. Strings of twinkling lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd. The unmistakable melody of Christmas songs played softly over the sound system, blending with the excited chatter of children and the hum of shoppers. The centerpiece of it all was the large Santa setup. A throne flanked by candy cane columns and a towering Christmas tree.

You weren't particularly thrilled to be here, especially during the chaos of the season with little demons running and screaming everywhere (Mike did such a good job at educating Abby), but when Mike had mentioned he'd be filling in as Santa, curiosity won out over your reluctance. You had to see this for yourself.

And there he was.

Your grumpy yet irresistibly charming man, now dressed in a plush red Santa suit that seemed both too big and oddly fitting, complete with a fake white beard that looked like it had been yanked out of the clearance bin at the last minute. The white trim of his jacket framed his face, his scruffy jaw and tired eyes unmistakable even under the fluffy Santa hat.

He looked so out of place, shifting awkwardly as kids climbed into his lap, their excited squeals contrasting with his forced chuckled. His discomfort was evident, lips twitching in what was probably meant to be a jolly smile but looked more like a grimace.

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. He was trying so hard that it was both hilarious and endearing. As the line dwindled, you hung back, blending into the crowd while sneaking glances. But your restraint faltered when a particularly loud kid tugged at his fake beard and you saw Mike wince, a look of barely contained annoyance flashing across his face.

He looked up to see the line in from of him to calculate how much longer this torture will last and it was there that he spotted you.

For a moment, he froze, then a slow smirk curved his lips. You felt a warmth rise in your chest and your gaze darted away, feigning interest in a nearby display of ornaments. He waved the last child off with a hearty laugh that sounded suspiciously forced.

The line had finally cleared and with no more gremlins in sight, Mike stretched, the red jacket riding up slightly to reveal a hint of his toned abdomen beneath. He stood, shaking off the stiffness from hours of sitting, and caught your eye again. With a barely perceptible tilt of his head, he signaled toward the employee's room in the back of the big mall. It was the same signal he used at home when Abby was around, a subtle but unmistakable invitation. Your stomach flipped, and your feet moved.

The employee's room was quieter, away from the chaotic mall floor. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed above as you stepped inside. Moments later, Mike entered, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, trying to collect yourself as Mike closed the door. His red Santa suit creaked softly as he moved, the fabric brushing against itself with every step.

"So, this is what it's come to," you began, grinning as you looked him over.

He let out a low groan, tugging at the collar of the red suit. "This thing is like wearing a goddamn oven. I'm sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat."

You laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. "You pull it off quite well. Maybe a little too rugged for a jolly old man, though."

Mike rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in his expression. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly by choice. I owed someone a favor because of you, and they cashed it in big time."

"Me? What did I do?"

"When you came back a week ago," he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I asked for someone to take my shift for that day and now he asked me to take his place for this."

You laughed again, shaking your head. "It was well worth it, if you want my opinion. At least it suits you good. ‘Santa Schmidt' has a nice ring to it."

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, but his grin gave him away. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Can you blame me? You look ridiculous," you said, gesturing toward the oversized jacket, the hat slightly askew on his head. "It's like seeing a tiger wearing a bowtie."

"Yeah? That's why you've been staring at me like that?" He shot back, one brow lifting "Got something you want to tell me?"

Your face heated instantly. "I wasn't staring!" you protested, though the words came out too quick. The way he leaned against the couch with that cocky smirk made it hard to maintain your indignation. "I was just shopping. And you happened to be there."

"Right," he said, dragging the word out as he crossed his arms, the motion causing the red fabric to stretch over his broad shoulders.

"You're impossible."

"And you're a terrible liar," he shot back, his tone laced with playful challenge. "But it's cute."

He moved closer until he sank onto the small couch, the Santa suit rustling as he leaned back. The fake white beard had slipped slightly, revealing more of his stubble and you couldn't help but notice how the red of the suit made his eyes look even sharper.

Mike patted his lap, his smirk widening. "C'mere."

You blinked. "What?"

"C'mere," he repeated, his voice low, teasing. "You've been running your mouth all day. It's time for Santa to put you in your place."

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting at the implication. "Mike-"

"I'm still on the clock. So, technically, this is official Santa business. Now, be a good boy and sit." he interrupted, leaning back further.

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. "You are ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still standing there," he pointed out, tilting his head. "Too scared now? Didn't seem shy when you dragged me into your dorm room last month."

That did it. With a muttered curse, you stepped forward and settled on his lap, feeling the warmth of him through the ridiculous costume. His hands found your hips almost instinctively, steadying you as you adjusted. The position was intimate, the small space making it impossible to avoid the way his body pressed against yours.

"There,” you said, trying to sound unaffected. "Happy?". The fake beard he had was way too annoyingly long.

"Getting there," he murmured, his voice dropping as his eyes swept over your face and momentarily dropped to your lips. "Now, tell me. Have you been a good boy this year?"

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. The playful lilt in his voice and the way his hands tightened slightly on your hips made it hard to concentrate. "I guess," you stammered, unable to meet his gaze. Your hand shot up to wave down the beard he had after it went right under your nose.

"Guess?" he repeated, his tone mock-disapproving. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"That depends on your definition of good," you shot back, trying to regain some semblance of control. Your voice low as your hand slid up his chest. "And maybe you need to lose this beard, because it's itchy as hell." You replied, emboldened by the way his grip on your hips tightened.

You reached up and tugged the fake beard down, tossing it gently next to him and exposing more of his face. His stubble was damp with sweat, his jaw sharp and annoyingly perfect. He leaned in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smirk that softened into something far warmer, far more intimate, as his hands slid slowly from your hips to your waist, his touch deliberate and firm. "Now you're not going anywhere."

His eyes, sharp and glinting with a heat that made your breath catch, traveled to your lips. The humor and teasing were gone now, replaced by a focus so singular it made the air in the small room feel charged.

"I never did ask you what you wanted for Christmas." He murmured, his voice low and rasping, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke, his tone carrying more weight than the words themselves. His warm breath tickled your skin, the faintest graze of his lips along your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

"I-uh…" The words faltered, your chest tightening as he tilted his head, his nose grazing along your cheek.

"Go on," he urged softly, the corner of his mouth curling as he pressed closer. The heat of him seeped through the ridiculous Santa suit, his body firm beneath the plush fabric.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping lightly for balance as his lips trailed lower, ghosting over the line of your neck. You could feel every word he spoke, his voice rumbling against your skin. "I want to know, sweetheart," he continued, his hands sliding lower to rest on your hips again, holding you in place as you shifted on his lap.

The movement drew a low sound from him, barely audible but unmistakable, as the growing bulge in his lap pressed against your lower back. A flush of heat raced through your body, your breath hitching as you became acutely aware of how close you were, how little space remained between you.

Mike's lips found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly as he whispered, "can i try to guess, then?"

"Mike…" His name escaped your lips in a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders as his hands roamed, fingers curling around the hem of your shirt. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours as though asking for permission.

You nodded, your pulse racing, and his lips quirked into a small smile before he tugged your shirt upward, the fabric catching briefly before he pulled it free. His hands returned immediately, sliding up your sides, the calloused pads of his fingers a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

"You look so good like this," he murmured, his voice rough and sincere as his eyes roamed over you. The Santa hat tilted precariously as he leaned in again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened.

A kiss hungry, demanding, filled with a need that had clearly been simmering for far too long. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft sound that escaped you as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. The suspenders of his Santa suit pressed against your thighs, and with a smirk, he used one to tug you even closer, his other hand sliding down to cup your ass.

He shifted beneath you, the hardness of his erection pressing against you unmistakably now. He groaned softly, his head falling to your shoulder as you rolled your hips experimentally, the friction drawing another deep, guttural sound from him.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. "You keep that up, and this suit's not going to survive the night."

You grinned, emboldened by his reaction and reached up to tug the Santa hat off his head, tossing it aside. "Better make it worth it then," you shot back, your voice teasing but breathless.

His hands slid to the waistband of your pants, his fingers toying with the fabric as his lips found yours again, tongue parting your lips as his hands worked to free you of your clothing. The anticipation was electric, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through your skin.

He broke the kiss briefly, his breath heavy as he pulled your pants down, exposing your ass. His hands immediately returned, kneading the flesh with a reverence that made your stomach flip. "You're perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your neck as his fingers dipped lower, teasing along your entrance.

The first press of his finger was slow, deliberate, his other hand splayed firmly against your lower back to keep you steady. The stretch was intoxicating, his touch both careful and unrelenting as he worked you open.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softer now, though his eyes burned with unrestrained need.

"It's not," you managed, your voice trembling as you shifted against him, seeking more. "Please, Mike."

His control snapped at your words, his fingers moving faster, lips capturing yours again as he prepped you thoroughly. The urgency in his touch was tempered by his care, the mix of sensations driving you closer to the edge even before the best part.

When he finally guided you onto him, the stretch was slow and deliberate, his hands gripping your hips as he helped you take him inch by inch. The sheer size was overwhelming in the best way, and he groaned low in his throat as he filled you completely.

"God, you feel so good," he rasped, his voice rough as his hands guided you into a steady rhythm. The pressure, the friction—it was perfect, every movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His lips found yours again, the kiss messy and desperate as his hands roamed, gripping and caressing as though he couldn't get enough of you. His suspenders dug into your sides as he pulled you closer, his thrusts meeting your movements with an intensity that left you gasping.

"Mike," you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, the heat of him overwhelming.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice a low growl as he tightened his grip on your hips, driving into you harder. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

The tension coiled in your stomach snapped, pleasure washing over you in waves as your body tightened around him. He followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his release warm and overwhelming.

You collapsed against him, both of you panting heavily as the room spun around you. For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the fluorescent lights and the ragged rhythm of your breathing.

Mike chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you as he leaned back against the couch. "Guess I'll never look at a Santa suit the same way again." His voice still rough but laced with humor.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you shook your head. "Neither will I," you admitted, your body still trembling as you rested against him.

Note: If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3 Next thing I will now do is another 4 smut scenarios for all the until dawn men.

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motorsportbarbie13 · 4 months ago

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What's A Soulmate? Part 4

In which you finally come back home.

Warnings: alcohol use. angst. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Word count: 1.9k plus social media posts

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate - Part 3 - Master List

LittlestSainzSis honey, i'm home. user433 isn't it weird she's working for McLaren and not Ferrari??? >>>user3928 nope! hope this helps! user2918 press officer job right out of school? must be nice being a nepo baby >>>user328 she literally worked for Carlos and Lando for two years before going to uni at NYU??? And she has a double degree in PR and business??? >>>usesr322 just say you're jealous next time, it'll be quicker. McLaren So glad to have you back in the paddock!!

LittlestSainzSis fast cars go vroom OscarPiastri so you're who Zak was yelling at to get behind the barrier over the radio??? >>>LittlestSainzSis oops!

LittlestSainzSis that feeling when you wake up and realize it's race day!! user3928: face card never declines user298: blah blah, proper name, place name, back story stuff LandoNorris: don't let that cute face fool you, she was yelling at Oscar and I ten seconds after I took this. >>>LittlestSainzSis neither of you were listening!!! God, this is 2019 all over again, isn't it? >>>user992 ariana what are you doing hereeeeee??? >>>user9383 seriously the first time Lando's in the comments in literal years. tf??? >>>user938 so we're all just going to ignore him calling her cute??? okay???

LittlestSainzSis the boys are ready for race day!!! McLaren best press officer award goes to you bby! >>>user382 admin is unhinged today, I see user0392 i just love seeing Lando back on her feed. >>>user3938 seriously. i feel like mom and dad are back together again. >>>user3844 i'm so glad i don't have to be a child of divorce anymore.

LittlestSainzSis caught someone being a grumpy gills today during the presser. LandoNorris i was probably hungry >>>LittlestSainzSis i think oscar had just told you he was getting sushi with Lily tonight and you got all pouty >>>user948 not her selling out Lando in the comments user938 Chaos Gremlins back to terrorizing paddock! war is over!

Miami May 2024

“Fifteen times Lando Norris has stood on the podium, but never on the top step, until now! It’s a landmark day for Lando! Lando Norris wins for the first time in Formula One! It’s victory in Miami for Norris and McLaren! The British drivers dream is realized and at the 110th attempt, he’s done it! He’s won it! Look what it means to Zak Brown! At long last, Lando is your winner!”

Tears stream down your face as you listen to Alex Jacques call the end of the race in your headphones, his voice filled with glee and excitement that matches the feeling in the McLaren garage. After yesterday’s DNF for Lando, it had been pretty doom and gloom on his side of the garage.

Your heart had ached when you caught sight of him that afternoon, sitting in the glass enclosed conference room that the team used to go over race data. He had been all alone, spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs, face drawn and shuttered. You had wanted to go to him then but hadn’t worked up the courage.

Things were still…delicate between the two of you. After that first night in Australia, Lando had kept his promise to win your friendship back. You more often than not found your morning coffee order sitting at your desk waiting for you during the week with a silly note written hastily on a posit in his chicken scratch writing that only you seemed to be able to decipher.

A few treats and free coffee weren’t going to be enough to bring back that casual intimacy that you and Lando had though, you both knew that. The walls you had built up so high around your heart designed specifically for the British driver were still solidly in place and you refused to go running back into his arms so easily.

And then, Miami happens.

The hot sticky humidity clings to your skin as you watch Lando climb out of the car behind the black and white number 1 sign, the first time he’s been able to park his Formula 1 car right in the middle of parc fermi. You’re not entirely sure where the humidity of Florida ends and the tears still falling from your eyes begins, you’re such a mess.

If you were to think too hard about it, the fact that you were a complete puddle of jumbled up emotion would surely scare you a little. Those walls, they couldn’t be crumbling now, could they? They couldn’t be slowly tumbling down, allowing for the while possibility of allowing Lando back into your life like he had been before?

You don’t have time to get too lost in those dangerous kinds of thoughts though because soon after he hops off the car, he’s running straight over to the garage crew and leaping into their waiting arms. He’s waited for so long for this, so many poor performances, so many mistakes and problems with the car had sent him spiraling for so many years. There had been too many nights you had spent with him when he was barely more than a teenager, sat on the floor lamenting about how shit his car was, how shit his driving was, and if he was destined to be one of those midfield drivers that never won anything in their career.

All of those doubts are erased now and your tears are falling again as the weight of what he’s done settles over the paddock. His engineers and mechanics eventually place him back down on the ground and he’s hugging Zak next, the CEO of McLaren more of a father figure to him by now. Will gets a hug too, his engineer since he joined the team five years ago.

And then, icy blue green eyes snag yours and everything else falls away in a muted hush. He’s smiling at you, that megawatt grin making his eyes crinkle up at the corners. It’s one of those genuine Lando smiles that you haven’t been on the receiving end of for far too long. Your heart stutters to a stop when you realize you’re his next target. What is he doing? You think frantically, mortified that you’re about to be the center of attention if he does what you think he’s going to do.

And he does. He throws his arms around your shoulders and buries his head deep into the crook of your neck, a move that has camera shutters clicking furiously all around you. You, of course, instantly find your arms wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him to you despite the metal barrier between you.

“You’re here.” He sounds surprised that you’d miss this moment.

“Of course I am. My best friend just won his first Grand Prix.” You whisper into his ear as the crowd continues to grow louder.

Lando pulls back then, tears shining in his eyes. The weight of your words settle on his shoulders and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look at you the way he is now. He tucks a strand of hair that’s fallen out of your pony tail behind your ear, looking at you like you’ve hung both the moon and the stars in the sky just for him. “I’m so glad you got to be here for this, pretty girl.”

God, that nickname. It’s the first time you’ve heard it in years and it does significant damage to those carefully constructed walls.

You smile up at Lando, a little bashful that everyone is watching you two talk so closely together. He returns the smile before turning around to answer a question from one of the officials. He needs to take care of post race inspections, which he does but not before turning back and tossing a wink at you over his shoulder.

LittleSainzSis It has been a pleasure and privlidge watching you grow over all these years. Life may have taken us in different directions over the last few years but when I say there is no place I would have rather been this afternoon, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Your friendship means the entire world to me, Mr. Norris. I'm so proud of you. One win down, so many more to go. LandoNorris so glad you got to be there today, pretty girl xo >>>user948 WE GOT A PRETTY GIRL COMMENT. >>>user0383 i can die happy now user0832 i'm sorry but guys, she literally just friendzoned him so hard in that caption. >>>user9383 yeah, poor lando

LittlestSainzSis You're going to smell like champagne for weeks LandoNorris worth it user948 EXCUSE ME WHAT IS THAT FACE. explain yourself lando norris. user928 did we mean to post this on main ma'am??? user9482 @/littlestsainzsis giving us what we all crave: lando thirst traps. >>>littlestsainzsis don't say i never give you guys anything ever again ;) >>>user9482 omg hi queen

LittlestSainzSis find yourself a man that looks at you like Lan looks at that trophy user0382 LANNNN??? >>>user9484 I am unwell CarlosSainz He's sleeping with it tonight, isn't he? >>>LandoNorris who told you that??? user9383 i feel like i'm interrupting something here... user0309 this picture is...a choice...

The music of the Miami night club pulses through your body as you sink deeper and deeper into the VIP booth later that night. Lando hadn’t given you any room for arguments after all the media duties were done. You were coming out with him and the rest of the team to celebrate. You had barely tried to refuse, not giving him much of a fight because you secretly wanted nothing more.

Now you sat in the leather booth situated high up in the dark Miami Beach night club that had invited Lando out the moment he had crossed the finish line earlier in the day. There were what felt like thousands of people, most of them were there to celebrate with Lando, hoping to get a glimpse of the driver.

Alcohol burns at the back of your throat, blurring your vision nicely as you wait for Lando to return from the bar. You had insisted that he wasn’t the one who should be making drink runs tonight but he had insisted on getting you another one and hadn’t taken no for an answer. Carlos is sat next to you, nursing a drink while talking to Charles on his other side.

A small glass is set down in front of you, drawing your attention away from the DJ booth, where you had been starting.

“Vodka sprite for my pretty girl.” Lando murmurs in your ear, the words sending a cool shiver up your spine.

You desperately tamp down the way that being called his makes you feel. You cannot be going down that road. Not now when the friendship between the two of you is so fragile. You knew what it was like to lose him in your life and you weren’t sure if you were willing to risk losing him again.

The same worries you had back before it all went sideways worm their way back into your consciousness. He was too important to you, too integrated into your soul that when he disappeared, it left you broken in a million pieces. You couldn’t risk that again. This had to be strictly platonic between you if it was going to work. You couldn’t afford to lose your best friend again. Those walls around your heart needed to be reinforced and brought back into working order because there was no way you could let this happen.

“Dance with me?” The question is a husky one, whispered in your ear so no one else is privy to it.

You know it’s dangerous. You should say no. But the vodka already in your system convinces you that it’s fine. It’s just Lando. So against your what your sober self would consider the best judgement, you feel yourself nodding, allowing Lando to tangle his fingers with yours and pull you out onto the dance floor.

If you had been paying better attention, you would have seen the looks Carlos and Charles exchanged behind your back. They were well aware of the frosty relationship that Lando and you had over the last few years and this was a development no one had seen coming but everyone had been hoping for all the same.

The EDM beats are strong and sensual as Lando leads you out onto the floor, hand firmly gripping yours. He finds an open spot and pulls you towards him, the heat of his body radiating off of him in waves. His hands land on your hips, fingertips gripping at your skirt a little harder than really necessary. You shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want his hands on your hips, his breath mingling with yours, his curls so dangerously close that you could easily rake your fingers through them. You shouldn’t and you can’t because he’s left you before and he could do it all over again. He’s abandoned you and didn’t come back and every sane thought in your body is screaming at you that this man is dangerous. He is dangerous to your heart and your head is thrashing around so loudly but it’s drowned out by the music.

You simply can’t fight it when he pulls you impossibly closer, hands sliding from your hips lower, lower, lower until it’s almost indecent. The alcohol blurs the edges of your usually sharp judgement and it’s not helped by the fact that this man seems to have cast a spell over you. You can’t want this. Can’t love how the weight of his hands feel on your skin. Can’t adore how his lips tick up at the edges when he sees you walk into the garage during a race weekend.

This is Lando after all. Your best friend. Your best friend who abandoned you once and had only barely just come back begging for forgiveness. You can’t allow him to knock down those walls so quickly, can you?

His lips flutter over the damp skin at your temple, dusting the slightest kiss there, almost as if it’s a test. A test to see if you push him away or allow him in.

A test that you fail.

Because the moment his lips touch your skin, it feels like a bucked of ice water has been splashed over your head and you realize what the fuck you’re doing. Its too hot. Too close. Too much and you simply can’t have him touching you anymore. No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Panic races through you as you stumble back out of his arms, logic finally winning out over your own heart’s stupidity.

The delicate balance you had struck with him shatters in an instant because you both knew there was supposed to be more between you but you’re desperately scared and Lando is so wretchedly full of regret he can’t stand it.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you manage to choke out before fleeing.

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16

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#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #slow burn fic #friends to strangers to lovers

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paceprompting · 2 months ago

Text

the gingerbread incident

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Eddie was a disaster. He knew this.

His brain fired on all cylinders constantly and his mouth was hardly able to keep up, the residual energy coming out in gesturing with everything that he said. He bumped into everything, even in the trailer where he’d lived most of his life.

And, even with the best intentions, most areas he spent an extended amount of time in were usually left in chaos.

Especially with flour involved.

It’s not his fault he was left alone in Steve’s kitchen. There was supposed to be at least two gremlin children in there with him—he was only supposed to be supervising since it was their bake sale they were making gingerbread what-ever-the-hells for.

But the kids were still rough and tumbling outside in the first snow of the season, annihilating the older not-so-kids-anymore in a snowball fight.

Steve had already picked out a recipe from Joyce’s and Claudia’s cookbooks, opened and ready on the counter. He’d presumably bought anything he didn’t have, because gingerbread was apparently slightly more complex than Eddie would have expected.

So, Eddie took his best shot.

And now, everything was…everywhere.

But there was something that resembled dough, as far as Eddie could tell, in the mixer. It smelled like ginger, or maybe that was the molasses (and who knew there was fucking molasses in gingerbread). And there was supposed to be flour on the counter anyway when he “rolled the dough out,” so really he’s just ahead of the game.

Take that, Directions.

Eddie clapped his hands together, and a cloud of flour into the air, readying to lift his doughy child from the bowl with both hands.

“Holy shit.”

Steve had stopped just short of coming into the kitchen, his discarded gloves held in one hand. His nose and cheeks were still pink from being outside in the cold, but the warmth of his brown eyes were fixed directly on Eddie, standing half-covered in flour in the middle of his kitchen.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said pleasantly, standing up straight. He brushed a stray one of his curls away from his face, definitely getting flour where his fingers grazed his cheek and temple. “I, uh, decided to make the kids’ gingerbread.”

“And there was enough flour left over after you dumped it on the floor?” Steve said, tentatively stepping onto the tile floor, leaving bootprints in places where, sure, there was a considerable amount of flour where Eddie had knocked a full measuring cup off the counter with his hand.

But that would have happened to anyone.

“I was left unsupervised,” he defended. “While you were all gallivanting outside.”

Steve had the decency to look somewhat chastized, as he set his gloves on a miraculously saved counter near the fridge and joined Eddie on his side of chaos.

“Sorry we left you alone, babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He wiped flour off his lips, eyeing the dough in the mixer. “Can I try?”

“I suppose an integral part of the baking process is taste testing as you go.” Eddie gestured to his masterpiece. “Knock yourself out.”

Steve chuckled, stepping close into Eddie’s space to reach past him into the silver mixing bowl. He pinched off some of the raw dough between two fingers and his thumb, raising his brows as he popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Steve said, poorly holding back a puckered expression as he forced down the piece of Eddie’s dough. “You need to start over. Immediately.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “But I followed the recipe! I read it three times.”

Steve sucked on his teeth, trying to work whatever the taste was of Eddie’s cookie dough out of his mouth. “My best guess, you switched something with salt.”

“What are you talking about?”

Steve pointed his chin toward the mixing bowl, an unspoken, See for yourself.

And Eddie did. Just to prove Steve’ tastebuds, as much as he adored the rest of the man, irrevocably broken, Eddie tore off an even larger piece of his dough. And, purposefully holding Steve’s eyeline, put the dough into his mouth.

And…oh boy.

Barely two chews into it, the main flavor Eddie was getting was indeed what some people might call…salty.

“You might have a point,” he said, words muffled.

He couldn’t bring himself to swallow. He had to turn sharply toward the trash can and spit out the horrible, horrible crime against baking that he had created.

Good fucking Lord, what had he done?

He went next to the sink, sinking his head under the running faucet to wash the rest of the taste out of his mouth. He heard the thump of the rest of the dough following its comrade into the trash, courtesy of Steve.

Satisfied enough that he’d gotten the salt taste out, Eddie shut off the water and turned to face Steve, holding a hand over his mouth as though he could actually hide his smile at his own boyfriend’s suffering.

He should have just waited. Then he could have laughed at Henderson for inevitably making the same, or an even worse, mistake than Eddie had.

Eddie sighed.

“Will you help me with the second batch? So I don’t poison all the kids?” he asked, glancing mournfully at the mess that was going to get a whole lot worse now that Eddie had to start all over.

“Tell you what,” Steve said, opening a nearby drawer and pulling out a blue plaid apron. Eddie watched with widened eyes as he tied it on—looking way too fantasy-like for how many people were around to walk in on them. Steve bumped him out of it with his hip. “You can be my handsome helper. I’ll tell you exactly what I need, and all you have to do is hand it to me. Sound good?”

A front-row seat to Steve Harrington baking in an too-sexy apron? And he wasn’t in charge of the end result?

Sign. Him. Up.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie microfic #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie drabble #steddie fanfiction #established relationship #cute fluff

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