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seresinhangmanjake · 1 month ago

Note

Could we please get Feyd x reader where they have an arranged marriage with feyd and the House Harkonnen expects her to be replused by him . But instead reader is completely obsessed with him and finds him so hot because he is lol and he can do no wrong. LOVE YOUR FEYD STORIES 💌

Unexpected

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Notes/Warnings: None, i think. I mean, arranged marriages? That's not really a warning though. Anyway, i fear this kind of sucks. My writing has been messed up lately. Hopefully, you guys still enjoy it anyway.

Words: 2100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

They’ve been chattering for what has felt like hours—going on about dresses and parties, servant boys they find particularly interesting—and at some point, your mind could no longer take the dull droning, and so you drifted onto thoughts of him.

You know everything about him, read everything about his family. You saw his face in an updated textbook about the Great Houses, drawn in what you hope is a perfect likeness, because if it is, then he’s absolutely stunning. You’ve never seen anything like the Harkonnens, but then again, they look like no one else. They’re wholly unique and you want everything to do with them—well, specifically, everything to do with Feyd-Rautha.

“I can’t believe they’re marrying you off to him,” one of your friends—the daughter of House Wallach—says.

You snap out of your thoughts, wondering when the conversation turned toward you and your soon-to-be husband. You hum in question, needing more time to provide an answer that won’t induce raised brows and dropped jaws.

“Yes,” the other says—Duke Leto’s daughter, whose bedroom balcony you’re currently sitting on. “How can they do that to you? You’re their only daughter and they are giving you to a murderous House.”

“We’re all murderous Houses,” you quickly say, and from receiving the blank stares you’d hoped to avoid, raise your teacup to your lips to hide your blush. You take a sip, then continue. “What I mean is, history states we’ve all dealt with bloody hands. That’s how our families are where they are.”

“Well, the rest of us don’t kill anymore. Our families are praised, worshipped.”

“So are the Harkonnens.”

“Out of fear,” Wallach reminds you. “The Baron is vile, as if you don’t know, and he trained Feyd-Rautha to be just as insane.”

Insane. That word has been used a lot lately. Your mother shouts it at your father for his willing agreement with the Baron. Your servants whisper it amongst themselves when they think you cannot hear them. That boy is insane, they say. She’s doomed, they say. But you don’t see it that way. You’re not scared of Feyd-Rautha. You’ll admit you don’t so much care for the Baron, but that’s because you’ve heard of his treatment of your future husband.

People claim Feyd-Rautha’s a lapdog—you don’t believe that. From what you’ve learned, you see no puppy in Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You see a lion on the prowl, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike from below. You see a man hunting his dinner. You hope upon meeting, he gobbles you up as well.

“Aren’t you terrified?” Atreides asks. “Don’t you think about your first night with him?”

You certainly do. Another sip of tea hides another blush. “I’m not worried.”

Wallach blows out a huff of breath. “Maybe you’re as insane as he is.”

Yes, you think maybe you are.

—

Your mother struggles to hand you over. You’re the one who has to pry her gripping fingers from your arm so you can step forward and bow to the Baron. When you rise, you sneak a peek at Feyd-Rautha just to his uncle’s right. He’s as beautiful as his picture depicted. His eyes are just as glazed over with steel as you imagined. He looks at you, and the steel melts ever so slightly. His brow pinches. He swallows hard.

“I trust my daughter will be well taken care of,” your father says, a puff expanding his chest. It makes him look no more menacing than he is.

The Baron chuckles. “In the hands of my nephew, you can expect no less.”

You know it’s a lie. One corner of Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirks upward. He has plans for you—good. You like plans. You have plans of your own.

He steps down the staircase that has held him above you and your family and takes your hand in his. He presses his lips to your knuckles. Your blood zings throughout your veins. If this is all it takes for you to feel this way, you can’t imagine what more will do to you. The thought of his lips in new places, his tongue in new places, makes your eyelids flutter.

“My Lady,” he says. His voice is intoxicatingly low.

“My Lord,” you say back to him.

When you smile at him, the smirk drops from his face and his head jerks back. Cold, blue eyes scan your features for falsities, as if you wear a mask he can remove to reveal a frown. He watches that frown fall into place only when your mother comes up behind you.

“Oh, my sweet daughter,” she cries, whipping your body around so she can properly hug you goodbye. “Don’t let them change you,” she whispers in your ear. “You’re too lovely for them.”

“I’ll be fine,” you tell her. You’ll be more than fine. This is the most excited you’ve been in years. And you knew it would be. That’s what he brings out of you…already.

—

He likes you. Well, he likes you in a way—he likes the look of you—but it’s hard to say if he likes the rest of you yet. He sneaks glances where he can, but he doesn’t often allow you to be in his presence for long. He removes you from his training sessions when you peek in to watch. He leaves once you join for dinner, which you’re less than a fan of, considering it leaves you to his brother and uncle’s company. He does not come find you to say goodnight.

Don’t you have better things to do, he’s often snipped at you when he finds you close by. You’ve assumed he means in preparation for the wedding in a week, but you told your new servants and planners to do whatever they want. You don’t care what the damn wedding will look like. You don’t care what you’ll look like. You just want him. You want to be around him. Watch him fight. Watch his muscles tense and shift and strain in the war of death. You want to see his body shine with sweat and his eyes harden with a murderous glare. But he won’t let you.

The closest you’ve been able to get to what you want is by sitting in the stands of the arena, where you have to observe his skills from a decent distance. And while it is wildly exciting to see the man you’re going to marry covered in the blood of enemies, you wish you could be closer. You wish you were close enough so he could grin at you as men’s bodies fall off of his blade. You wish he wanted you close to him because it’s killing you to be so far away.

After days, you still don’t understand the separation. You figured your smiles at him would be enough to get the message across that if he likes you in any sense of the word, then he should be going for you as much as you would him if he’d permit it, but no. He keeps his space between you. Unfortunately for him, you’re sick of it.

—

“I’m tired of you avoiding me,” you call as you chase after him down the darkened hallway. You’d been waiting outside his training room for hours, hoping his keen senses couldn't pick up your unsteady breathing as you prepared yourself for this exact confrontation.

His steps stutter at your words and he pauses. He turns on his heel, and with narrowed eyes, advances on you. His form towers over yours, and in any other situation, you might detest the abuse of power, but here, now, you feel a sharp thrill. You try not to let his lack of shirt affect what more you intend to say, but it’s hard. You’re already swallowing saliva. You’re core is already throbbing.

“Do you have a moment?” you ask.

Feyd’s muscles tighten and bulge as his arms cross over his chest. He huffs. “I don’t understand you. You’re like a little rodent, you know,” he says. “Following me around as if I drop crumbs for you.”

A lump catches in your throat. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your arrival on Giedi Prime, and you know cruelty runs through the Harkonnen bloodline, but you didn’t know he could cut so deeply with words. “I’m not a rodent.”

“You’re as annoying as one.”

“Because I want to be around you?” you ask. “Because I like you–”

His arms fall away from his chest and your head flinches back from the finger pointed at your nose. “You do not like me,” he snaps.

His voice, though low, bounces off the walls of the hall, an echoey repeating of those words that you almost can’t believe you’re having to hear. You’ve not given any indication that what you’re telling him could possibly be a lie, so you don’t see how he could come to that conclusion. Unless there are whispers in his ear.

“Yes, I do,” you say. “I’m marrying you. I want to marry you.”

“You are not supposed to want that,” he spits.

“Well, I do!” you spit back.

“Then you don’t make sense!”

You don’t know what that means, so you just stand there, staring at one another as you wait for him to explain further. He doesn’t, and you tire of the waiting, so instead, you take a risk by stepping closer, and with cautious fingers, you raise your hand to his chest. Your palm plants firmly against his skin, and then you feel it. His heart beating rapidly. For a second you think it’s from the training. But then you look up at him, at how his jaw clenches and how he struggles to meet your eyes. And now you understand.

“I like what you are,” you tell him. “I like that you’re strong. I don’t care that you kill. I don’t care that you crave the feeling it gives you.”

“You should care,” he says, still avoiding your gaze. “You’re meant to be a precious little Lady. That’s what I was promised.”

“And that is what you wanted for a wife?” He doesn’t give you an answer. “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed–” he snorts, irritating you further. “I’m sorry if that ruins whatever fun you intended to have with me. I know the Baron has been eager to see what you’ll do to me once we’re married.”

His head swivels back to yours. “He found enjoyment from the idea that you’d be repulsed by me,” he says. “And so did I. So you shouldn’t feel so comfortable.” He latches his fingers to your wrist and jerks your hand away from his body. His hand leaves yours. It falls back to your side and you instantly feel a chill without him. It won’t do. You see a glimpse of your marriage—a loneliness, a cold side of your bed. He begins to turn away from you.

“You don’t now?”

He stops. “What?”

“You said you did find enjoyment in it,” you repeat. “Do you still?”

You can see his teeth grinding with the shifting of his jaw as he contemplates continuing this conversation. “They said you wouldn’t like me,” he finally tells you.

“But I do,” you say. “I read about you. I liked you before I met you.”

He groans. His hand runs down his face. He steps back to you, an iciness penetrating your stare. “I had plans for you. Ones you weren’t going to enjoy.”

A smirk curls your lips. “I had plans for you, too. Ones I fully intended to enjoy.”

He sucks in a breath, his chest puffing. His eyes narrow as if searching for your lies.

Without another thought, you reach up again and, placing your palms on his cheeks, raise onto your toes to press your lips to his. It might be idiotic of you. It might be the stupidest move you could make. He might gut you for the act, marriage alliance be damned. But the only interest you have is in getting your point across.

His lips are soft—probably one of the few soft spots on him—and they taste of salt from the sweat of his training. He’s frozen for a few agonizing beats, but then nails are digging into the skin of your hips, the fabric of your dress doing nothing to keep the sharp sting at bay. Lips move in tune with yours. You’re pushed backward. You hit the wall, trapped between hard surfaces of stone and body.

You ache for the man you’ve felt you’ve known for longer than you have. You ache for the heat of him. You knew it would feel like this.

When the kiss breaks, you smile. “You’ll like me,” you tell him. “I promise.”

He sighs in defeat and says, “I know.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #austin butler #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2 #feyd rautha fic

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diejager · 1 year ago

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Hiii I wanted to know if you could do a ghost x hybrid!bunny reader?

Where she’s unaware she’s going through her heat cycle (her first) an she’s giving off a dandrufflike sex pollen, so she goes around the base trying to find him. The recuites are following her like dogs an eventually when he finds her (cause she got lost) he realizes that’s what’s going on and helps her out with her problems ☺️

And honestly if you could do anything with ghost x hybrid!bunny reader I would love love looove it 💗💗

Thank you so much for writing! 💗🐰

Bunny

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Bunny Hybrid! Reader

Cw: non-con drugging (unintentional really), sex pollen, heat cycles, bunny hybrid reader, Wc: 1.4k

Fun Fact! Bunny was originally and still is a British term of endearment for girls and young women.

For someone who’d joined Price’s TF for months now, you still couldn’t find your way through these winding halls and sharp corners that made the British base. It was like a maze to your twitching nose and droopy ears, always sending you down the wrong hallway or turning the wrong corner simply because they looked identical, and there wasn’t a plan for the whole base. You’d know, you had asked Price for one after getting lost trying to find the Mess Hall and having the fortune of stumbling into Gaz after wandering the halls of your temporary base.

You, once more, got lost on your way to the gym, the last place you had to search to find Ghost. You had searched the armoury, jumping between soldiers (mostly recruits who’d been sent to your base to train. Most sergeants and higher-ranked soldiers were given their small batch to overwatch.) while looking for your lieutenant, ignoring the dark stares the recruits sent your way. Their pupils dilated and face flushed when you walked past them, bumped shoulders and talked to them.

While your search for Ghost in the armoury had been fruitless, the other - as equally flushed as the recruits when you spoke to them - sergeants and corporals about him, they advised you to look for the gym and training grounds, knowing the lieutenant would be there if he wasn’t in his room, his office or the armoury. With a grateful nod, you skipped down the corridor, having randomly chosen a path while completely lost. In your small, dazed mind, body heat skyrocketing, skin perspiring and cheeks flushed, you were oblivious to the longing stares people gave you when you walked past them and the number of recruits that had followed you.

They marched in synchronisation metres behind you, acting like a single-celled organism composed of many that followed its prey or another of their kind. Their hands were clammy, their skin heated to a burning red on their ears and cheeks, their hairline stuck to their skin, and their eyes were wide like lost puppies following a treat.

You lost your way, having to stop and catch someone for directions. Coincidentally, a fellow operator was heading towards the training area, having to meet a teammate for their next briefing. She led you down a familiar hall (was it? Every wall looked the same to you, every spot and crack looked the same on every wall, it had your head spinning in every direction. You were still confused as to why others easily found their way around the whole base.) and pointed out some rooms for you to use as checkpoints when you travelled these halls alone. You thanked her profusely when you found the wide doors to the area you were trying to reach, grasping her hand and giving her a sweet smile, ears flopping at your optimistic movement.

When you reached for the door, you peeked your head through the door, squeezing out when you saw how crowded it was. Ghost preferred solitude and quietness, such a busy and filled room would be a nightmare for a reserved man. He dreaded interacting with people unless he had to (or unless you were part of his loving Task Force 141). Your scent streamed into a wide area, urging heads to turn your way, glazed eyes landing on your head, nose twitching and ears framing your face. They fleeted the room when you left, head tilted towards your scent, ripe and sweet.

You turned to look for the gym, remembering that it was on the other wall, the words gym displayed in bold letters on the door’s sign. You smiled giddily, practically jumping towards it, knowing it was the last place you had to look at. You found him the second you pushed past the door, his broad back standing out around smaller figures around the room even if he seemed to curl into himself on his place on the bench. You went straight his way, the soles of your boots thumping on the slick, shiny floor. It gave you away to the lieutenant who’d heard you walk towards him.

“Ghost,” you smiled, stopping beside his turned body, his sinfully slim hips twisting his skin-tight shirt that stuck to his abdomen like a second skin. “I was searching for you, L.T.”

He muddled silently at you, dark chocolate eyes wandering over your body, over your plush thighs, your round hips, your small stomach, your pressed breast, your naked collar and your face. He flickered to the men that filed in after you, a group of hungry, happy trigger recruits after someone way higher than them. He reeled in the need to growl, watching the way their eyes craved you, fucking you in their mind in every position possible.

Then his eyes rolled back to you, seeing your flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and sweet grin. The scent that fell from your body was downright delirious, a sickeningly sweet musk that rolled off your body in waves of thin particles of your scent. The stare in your eyes was dazed, dream-like in the way that you gazed at him. It riled him, made him hungry and predatory.

”You’re in heat, bunny,” he greeted back, voice coming out deeper and raspier than he intended, the low vibration in his chest appearing by itself from his restrained hunger.

He couldn’t fault the recruits that followed you like lost, hungry pups. You were delicious in the haze of your heat (the first one you’ve ever had, he thought. You’d spoken to him once about never having felt the full brunt of heat, they were supposedly painful and made the hybrid needy from what he’d learned. That scared you.), your scent enveloping you in a cocoon of arousing odour, pheromones that attracted males of your kind of human males to satiate your needs.

He couldn't, doesn't mean he wouldn’t because he would. He was faulting them for staring at you so shamelessly, eyes hungering for you. He wasn’t a perfect man, he was far from it, he was the worst kind to be deemed a perfect model. He was imposing, dominating, possessive and deadly, he was a ghost, the dead that came back alive, having no name or face to call his own. Just like the recruits, he wanted you, to take you for himself in the privacy of his dark room. He wanted to bite into those, soft, fluffy ears of yours, always drooping around your face, but never restraining you in combat (you fared surprisingly well, nearly as merciless as him, in combat, tearing down men twice your size with a knife if needed. You were ruthless to your enemy or those that aimed to hurt your little TF.). He wanted to make you cry, to grab your round tail and yank on it until you begged him to stop. He wanted to bite into the scarless skin of your neck, a perfect place for his mark.

Bunnies liked marks, no? They loved affection and being taken care of, didn’t they? Although you were a hybrid - mostly human with some bunny genetics in your body - you still had some rabbit-like behaviours. He’d seen how you preferred veggies over meat, though you did eat meat on occasion to keep up with the growth of your muscles. He’d seen how you liked soft and smooth things, you had many blankets and personal items you were gifted or bought. He knew you liked jumping and scouting, a bunny's natural curiousity made it peek from beneath the tall grass at things that caught its attention.

He, however, hasn’t seen how you act in the throes of painful heat, would you submit to a needy, aroused bunny that would ask anything of him; or would you jump him and demand attention, using him as you like. He stopped himself from wandering down that dark path, or at least for now until he got both you and him to his room for privacy.

“C’mon bunny, let’s go,” he stood up, bag slung over his shoulder while his other hand rested on your lower back, the dip of your vertebrae and the start of your jerking tail.

He glared at the cowering recruits as he moved between them, they has separated to form a path for you and Ghost. Black-painted skin, dark eyes and a skull-drawn balaclava made them flee, tails tucked between their legs. He held you closer to him, your hip flush to his as he led you to his quarters. That would teach them who you belonged to (perhaps you would show them who he belonged to).

#cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #bunny hybrid reader #heat

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enmie · 4 months ago

Text

*♡∞:｡.｡ Just a Nap ｡.｡:∞♡*

➶ bllk's Sae, Kaiser, Rin, and Shidou and their goofy selves try to make you prove your love

➶ they fake sleep and you carry them back to bed

➶ poll results. cw: cussing. insults. implied fem reader

𓅪 first bllk fic lesgoo

𓅪 this took three polls. THREE.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sae Itoshi's

Each tick of the clock, each breath from your lips, each blink of your eye— you watched Sae's sleeping presence. He looked so peaceful you didn't dare disturb him, no matter how much of a trouble maker you were to him. There was something so off and comforting about his shallow breaths, in comparison to his usual stoic attitude, the one that pushes you away. But you stay anyway.

And he thinks he's such a little trickster.

Sae's eyelids flutter to to take a peek at what you were doing, his breathing shallow and soft to make the act convincing. Of course he's fake sleeping. He would never fall asleep in front of you.

He flinches. No, he doesn't jump, but he internally flinches when you attempt to stand him up from the couch, his one arm flung over your shoulder. It was one hell of a movie night, but every movie you watched was plain trash.

He could've spent the night practicing, yeah, but who was he to turn you down? All that's in his head now is fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to wake up—

— but everything's too good. He needs to know what happens next.

You struggled to lift him up. What was he, double your weight? You were tiny compared to this man, what the hell were you thinking trying to get him up? With a groan, you stand up, your weak knees trembling as you lift one side of his body, the other side hanging. But you notice he was on his feet. Maybe it was a reflex.

"Alrighty, let's get ya to bed," You say more to yourself than to him, each step excrutiatingly slow. Slow and shaky, your breath more ragged than his. Why were you even putting in this much effort?Effort wasted. Because you throw him onto the bed, hands on your knees as you panted. You thought he was a light sleeper, initially.

Vulnerability wasn't something he usually showed, yet here he was now, spread eagle on his twin-sized bed, hair in his face and his arm red from your tight hold. You did have a harder time.

And that's why you hated, hated him for opening his left eye, and he had his lips in a smug little smirk, that shitty bastard. You grumbled, throwing a pillow at him.

"What's wrong? You're surprisingly strong, y'know," He remarks, sitting up to fix his hair. Sae ran his fingers through the magenta strands, his eyes looking tired but accomplished.

"Lose some weight so I can carry you next time." You muttered angrily, sulky as you sat on the edge of his bed. "There's a next time?" He slips himself down the bed to sit next to you, gauging your reaction. And that goddamn smirk is still on his face, to the point where it seems his eyes are smirking, his ears are smirking, his cheeks, too. So annoying.

"Hopefully..."

"Not,"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"..."

"Fine." He eventually sighs. "I'll come over again, pendejo."

Michael Kaiser's

It was the first time you ever saw him asleep. Of course you wouldn't know this grown ass man still takes naps in the afternoon. The sun was up and blazing, glazing its color on Kaiser's undershirt, his muscles bare and exposed. You've never seen him like this, vulnerable, not teasing you, not absolutely annoying you. It was comforting in a way.

But Kaiser thinks he's such a clever man. He stifles a laugh, sensing how you're admiring his sleeping form, his fake sleeping form. He's supposed to be practicing with some people today, but he chooses to mess with you over anything else. It's just how he shows his love.

So it surprises him, really, when you start to stand up and grab his waist and back, supporting his body as much as you could. Were you really going to take him to his room? He lets out an audible groan, but keeps his eyes closed for convincing effect.

With every step you take, he drags his feet across the wooden floor, your grunts loud and strained. Why does he have to be so heavy?

You immediately let go of Kaiser once he was in his room, collapsing the supposedly sleeping body on the mattress.

Then this jerk starts laughing. Boisterously. Disturbingly. Honestly, you feel so shocked that you could only blink slowly and process everything that's happening, the man you thought was sleeping was laughing so hard it pisses you off.

"Jerk!" You exclaim. "Oh, you're such a comedian! You really do love me!" He says, sitting up to see that reaction he found so cute. "I was helping you, fucking bastard,"

"That's me," He says confidently, flexing his bicep. And it annoys you.

"Now, if you excuse me, I got to practice," He stands up, getting dizzy at the sudden adjustment. But before he even leaves, he wobbles to the drawer unexpectedly, pulling out a face towel with cute rubber ducks on it. "Here, saviour. For your sweat."

"I really can't tell if you're trying to be nice or pissing me off," You groan, wiping your forehead and your sweaty neck.

He looks at you with some sort of... admiration, in his eyes. And he laughs again, softer and more genuine this time. "I think you should come watch me practice." You roll your eyes. "After I tore all my muscles carrying you? You wish, asshole,"

Kaiser's never felt this way. Why was he finding your anger so cute? He puts on his jersey for practice, his long hair getting snugly stuck underneath the neckline. So you go and untuck it, getting dangerously close to this man.

Yeah. He thinks he's in love.

"You're so damn small, it must have been a miracle when you carried me here," He whispers. Kaiser doesn't whisper. He yells. A lot.

"Miracle, me?"

"... Yeah, you."

Rin Itoshi's

One turn of a head, and he's fast asleep? That was so unlikely of him, you think. Because, you're talking about Rin Itoshi here, asleep, beside you, so close you could feel the faint pitter patter of his heart and the even fainter breath. So deep into that slumber you felt bad even thinking of waking the striker up.And he doesn't usually mess with people.

But he wants to see that reaction that he finds ever-so-slightly, cute. When you scrunch up your nose in frustion, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids low. He loves it. It's one of the only things he finds himself looking for in every living moment he spends. But he doesn't quite know why, why he adores your long hair and every curve of your body he longs to touch.

He's cute, too. But Rin doesn't know that. Only you do. Or, at least, you're convinced you're his biggest fan, his best-est friend, or even something along the lines of.

That's why— he's currently trying to peek at you, while also trying to keep pretending he's asleep. Oh! He shuts his eyes tightly, once you turn to look at him. No, no, if he gets caught without saying it himself, it'll be embarrassing. So maybe... maybe he should just come clean already, and—

Panic, panic, panic.

You can hear his breath hitch softly and his eyelashes flutter faintly. Maybe he just does that. You take him by the arm, throwing it around your neck and over your shoulder to take him to his room, to let the pretty boy fall asleep. And oh, how you struggled.

But Rin thinks he's struggling more, trying desperately to stop himself from getting too flustered at the proximity he didn't expect. He makes himself lighter so you didn't have a harder time. He'd usually weigh himself down purposefully, or not fake sleep at all, but he found himself acting different around you.

Not too different. Only... less indifferent. You were more tolerable than the rest.

So once he plops down onto the bed, free from your helping grip, he feels this longing. This yearning. Your touch was too much for him, and now he wants more and more and more. You begin walking away, deciding to let him sleep, but—

"Sorry." Your head snaps in his direction. You'd almost gotten whiplash.

"Huh?! What happened to your sleeping ass?" Still half-lidded, Rin fiddles with the hem of his sweater, avoiding all form of eye contact with you. He just tricked you. And he was guilty. So unlike him. "I wasn't asleep."

You cross your arms with a smirk on your face, oh you knew well. That look on his cute face says it all, that he enjoyed how you were nice enough to accompany his heavy weight up the stairs and into his bedroom.

"You act better than I thought," You tell him. He just hums in agreement, coming back to his original attitude.

"Little trickster."

And when he looks up at you— oh, you think you're about to fold.

"I know."

Ryusei Shidou's

He's snoring loudly, smiliarly to an old man. Damn this boy. Was he serious or was he serious? You think it's very Ryusei Shidou of Ryusei to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, because not even ten minutes into the topic of leopards, he's passed out, his head facing the side. No wonder the idiot's snoring.

But it's all an act.

Ryusei is wide awake. He may have underestimated how hard closing his eyes for more than a milisecond was, but he is more than determined to see if you'd kiss him with a true love's kiss. Like a fucking Disney princess.

You groaned, standing up with your hands on your hips. You theorize that he's fake sleeping, since there's a goddamned smirk on his face, but you believe it anyway. "Holy shit, you fell asleep, you asshole." With a sigh, you decide to snap a photo of him before deciding to be a nicer bitch for once.

He accidentally opens his eyes and groans when you start lifting him up, but closes them tightly as to keep the act up. Where were you taking him? Upstairs? Ryusei hears your grunts as you desperately try to grab him. He falls back on you anyway, his back pressing against your chest and tensing up. Not like you felt it.

"Alrighty, here we go," This man is eighty percent muscle mass, and you were attempting to carry him?

Get this, he was so comfortable despite your struggle, that he actually falls asleep. For what seems like a mere split second, his breath shallows and his snores get quieter, and his muscles relax on you. You're confused.

The floorboards creak with every step you took, dragging the blonde by his waist weakly. Maybe if he didn't go to the gym so much. With a grunt, you throw him on the bed feeling strained as hell. "Fuck you, honestly."

Walking to the edge of the bed, you pull out your phone to see the picture, and there's this laughter. His laughter. You sigh as you shake your head, knowing your first thought was right after all. He wasn't really sleeping.

"What? Had a hard time?" Ryusei teases, the volume of his laughter baffling you. "Shut up."

"No, no, I'll sleep, I'll sleep," He makes a snoring sound again, but not before laughing his ass off. You're extremely annoyed. You regret being nice. But, you have to admit it, his laugh did bring a smile to your face, in some weird way.

He sits up to peek at your phone not-so-sneakily, chorting. "Ya even took my pic!"

You squeak, and find Ryusei immediately at your side, looking at his fakely asleep self on your phone. His hand is on your waist instinctively, as he stares with that smile, that grin you used to hate. But you love it now.

"You're so obsessed with me," He says. "You gonna make it a wallpaper like a lovesick simp?"

Turning your head and smirking, he blushes. Yeah, he might just be into every other girl, but you're the only one who made him blush that much.

"Maybe so,"

"... Fuck you."

ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ bllk fanfic

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enhalouv · 4 months ago

Text

park sunghoon - hush

a/n: hello!! this is my vvv first enha smut so i hope u enjoy,, easing in w a small drabble,, not sure if i wanna expand on this or not but we’ll see hehe

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral (f), slight public sex (not really just the thought), lil enemies action

w.c: 506

“Shh, baby, don’t want your friends hearing, do you?”

Sunghoon’s insufferable teasing makes you want to shove him back and leave. But the way his tongue feels on your cunt makes you think otherwise.

He’s got you pushed against the closet door, jeans at your ankles, and his face shoved between your thighs lapping up the wetness that trails down.

It would be best if you weren’t doing this. Your friends are mere metres away from the two of you. One wrong move, one measly sound, and you’d be caught. But the warmth churning in your gut makes you believe you wouldn’t hate the thought.

However, the idea of anyone catching you in such a compromising position with Park Sunghoon, of all people, was a less enticing thought.

Your hand slaps against your face as you try to control your breathing. The way the tip of his tongue flicks relentlessly against your clit, his fingers gripping the plush of your thighs to pry them apart to push his face in impossibly close.

“That’s a good girl, now bend a little more so I can fuck you with my tongue.”

The crude words almost push you over the edge. You arch your back and hear, no- feel the way Sunghoon chuckles at the lewd sight you make.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Sunghoon groans, a finger circling your hole, “so fucking wet for me. God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?”

Your face burns at the trail of praises that leave Sunghoon’s mouth, making you feel weaker and weaker. You twist around slightly to try and see him, and the view has you holding a fist to your mouth to trap the obscene moan trying to slip out.

Sunghoon’s glazed-over eyes never averted from your pussy. Like it was some magic fountain dripping gold. His mouth was slathered by your cum, the tip of his tongue poking out. His cheeks are flushed, lips red and swollen.

His mouth moves back to focus on your cunt, unabashedly moaning as he shoves deeper in between your legs. Sunghoon's eyes roll back as he buries his face into your pussy, uncaring of the mess he’s making, sliding his tongue against you to get every glorious drop of your cum. He only pulls back to peer up at the wreck he's made of you.

“So,” Sunghoon hisses at how tight you feel as his finger slips into your dripping cunt, “Fucking,” he refrains from biting into your thigh to stifle the moan at how good you feel just around his finger, “Hot.”

Lapping at your cunt like a man starved, fingers moving deftly to find the spot that makes your knees feel like jelly and your mind fuzzy. There’s not a single coherent thought going through your mind as Sunghoon slips his tongue into your hole and filthily fucks you dumb.

Your head knocks against the door with a thud, but you’re at a point where you don’t even care about being quiet. You can’t fathom what you would do if Sunghoon were to stop worshipping your pussy.

Die, probably.

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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago

Note

could you do Alastor and Lucifer with an Living! Adams Family! Reader?

A/N duh. this idea was so fun!! It's giving Beetlejuice in the best way

I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Reader x Lucifer)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of suicide in reference to Dante's Inferno. Bones. Art made from bones.

Word Count: 1,655

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n sat before the summoning circle as she lit the las candle. It was a Friday and she was bored, what else was she supposed to be doing besides following some probably fake spell she found in a book she'd thrifted? She took after her mother in that regard but had wound up with her fathers rather flamboyant personality.

"Now, what are those words..." she mumbled to herself, turning the odd slip of paper the spell had been written on over.

Her eyes glazed over them and she cleared her throat.

"Spirits from beyond, I call you Lucifer, who first cursed us, I call you to me. Lucifer, who commands the legions of the dead, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Lucifer, wicked, heartless beast, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you!"

Y/n looked up from the paper in excitement, a look which quickly dimmed as absolutely nothing happened before her eyes. She turned back to the paper, squinting to read the cramped letters.

"Okay, wait. Theres another name here. Uh, spirits from beyond, I call you. Alastor, keeper of the dark defeat, I call you to me. Alastor, demonic overlord, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Alastor, both hunter and hunted, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you."

Again, her work failed to yield any results. Y/n stayed seated for a moment, waiting. When it was clear to her that the spell had not in fact done it's job, she sighed and got to her feet.

"Well that was a waste of a half hour."

She turned on the lights before leaning forward and grabbing the nearest candle. With a short breath of air, she blew it out only, somehow, all the candles seemed to go out as she did this, even the scented one on the shelf that hadn't been involved in the ritual.

"Oh there is no way." Y/n smiled, anticipation bubbling in her chest, "There is literally no way!"

The lights began to flicker as she placed the candle she was holding on the desk. The minute it hit the table's surface, the room fell into a short spell of darkness. As the lights flickered back on, Y/n saw two men standing in the center of the circle.

Well, men was a strong word. They were both humanoid in shape but, neither really looked like people. They looked around the room in shock, taking in every detail before their eyes landed on each other.

The taller of the two demons, the one all in red and holding an old fashioned looking microphone, widened his already close to horrific smile. The smaller one, dressed in all white, narrowed his eyes.

"You." the man in white sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course I had to get summoned with you."

"There is literally no way." Y/n exclaimed, cutting off the red demon as he opened his mouth to speak.

Both men turned to Y/n, in her black dress with her wide excited eyes.

"Ah." the red demon hummed, his voice coming out like radio static as he straightened his jacket, "You must be the one who summoned us. I am Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Yes, quite the pleasure."

Y/n turned her gaze to the demon in white.

"So that means you must be Lucifer. It is such an honor to meet you."

"Huh." Lucifer smiled slightly, "Now that's more like it. Wait, you're not one of those freaks, are you?"

"Freaks?" Y/n asked, her head cocked slightly to the side and her brow furrowed.

"One of those oh! You brought evil to the world! You're my idol people." Lucifer imitated animatedly.

Alastor shot him an irritated look as Y/n's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No no no! They have it all wrong. You didn't bring evil, you gave us the greatest gift of all. You have us free will, self determination. The ability to be exactly who we are and want to be."

Lucifer turned to Alastor, crossing his arms over his chest with a self satisfied smile.

"Oh I like her. Pretty and she knows her stuff?"

Y/n blushed slightly, looking away. She clasped her hands behind her back. Alastor didn't like that.

"Yes, quite the charming girl indeed." he hummed through gritted teeth, meeting Y/n's eyes.

"And Alastor..." she put a finger to her lip in thought, "Alastor... I am really sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't think I have ever heard of you before."

His eye twitched and Lucifer's grin widened.

"Well, my dear, I just so happen to be one of the most powerful overlords in all the rings of Hell."

"Huh. Neat."

"So, what have you called us here to do?" Lucifer asked amiably.

"Oh, well, I hadn't really though that far. Um..." she looked around the space of her room.

There wasn't anything she really wanted. Y/n had a comfortable life, a loving family. Anyone she wanted revenge on she was more than capable of taking care of on her own. Mostly, she was just bored.

Nodding her head once, she walked up to the edge of the summoning circle and promptly sat down. Her legs crossed, she adjusted the long skirt of her dress over her knees.

"Let's just chat."

Alastor and Lucifer exchanged a confused look.

"You are going to have to ask us for something, my dear." Alastor hummed pleasantly, "Otherwise we wont be able to go home. That's how this little game works, after all."

"So, I am asking you to chat. Do you guys want any drinks or something?"

With a shrug to Alastor, Lucifer sat down on the floor with his legs crossed as well. With a reluctant sigh, Alastor followed suit.

"So, what is Hell like?" Y/n asked eagerly, "Is it dark and full of bugs? It can't really be all fire and lava pits like all the art says. I mean, Dante's version of Hell makes more sense than that. Oh my gosh, is there a suicide forest? I always loved that idea, that they turn into trees. That they get the most peaceful of the options, is it real?"

"Well, there are trees." Lucifer began carefully.

"But they are not made of people's souls. No, it's actually rather close to this world down below." Alastor finished for him.

"Really? You guys have like jobs and stuff?"

"Some of us do. I am actually currently involved in a project helping to rehabilitate sinners. 'Check out of Hell and into Heaven,' that's the whole idea of the thing."

"Like you actually believe in that." Lucifer scoffed and Alastor raised a hand to his chest in false ofence.

"You... are you questioning my motives?"

"Not cool man." Y/n shook her head, "That sounds like a pretty cool project, I didn't even know something like that was possible."

Before Alastor could reply, Lucifer cut in.

"It is my daughter's project, and we aren't actually sure its possible yet."

"You have a daughter!? Is she the antichrist?"

"We-"

"Charlie Morningstar is her name." Alastor interrupted Lucifer, "And she is quite powerful. Talented too."

Lucifer turned to Alastor, glaring at him.

"Don't start this shit again."

"It's not my fault I've been there for her more than you have."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Sure it is."

At a sudden peal of bell like laughter from Y/n, the demons stopped their bickering and turned to her. She held a hand over her mouth as she tried to calm herself.

"Are you guys always like this?"

Lucifer and Alastor exchanged another look before nodding. Y/n lowered her hand, still smiling brightly.

"Maybe I'll ask you to stick around."

"You... aren't like a lot of other humans I've met in my time." Lucifer admitted.

"Strange and unusual."

"What?" Lucifer asked.

Y/n shrugged.

"That's how most people describe me. Strange and unusual. Or wonderously strange, if you ask my dad."

"Well, there is nothing wrong with that." Alastor hummed, "Strange and unusual is the best way to be. Keeps things interesting."

"Oh, no. I know. I didn't mean it in like a sob-story way. Just like, that's how I am. I don't know."

"Not a lot of people summon us. Especially not just to chat." Lucifer stated and Y/n smiled.

"What can I say, I was bored."

"You summoned us because you were bored?" Alastor repeated, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah. My friends were all busy and I love my parents but I do not love being around them on their Friday date nights let me tell you. The dancing is cute but the sword fighting when some old flame of my mother's shows up as they do every couple months? Terribile. Nothing blocks out the clang of steel against steel."

"Sounds like you come from a rather interesting family." Lucifer noted.

"Strange and unusual. I don't come from nowhere."

"Well, aren't you a gem in this dull world." Alastor mused and Y/n looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed again.

"I don't know about that, but I certainly try. Oh! Do you guys like bones? I don't know, is that a dumb question? Was it rude? Racist? Wait. Hell-cist? No that feels wrong too."

Lucifer chuckled slightly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I have a pretty big selection. Mostly deer bones."

Alastor's ears twitched.

"Deer bones?"

"Yeah." she nodded, "We eat a lot of venison at home and ever since I was a kid, my dad let me keep the bones to do projects with and the like. I have a lovely wind chime I made using parts of a spine but, sadly, its at my parents house."

"Strange and unusual." Alastor hummed.

"Strange and unusual." Y/n nodded.

----

A/N I was lowkey not sure how to end this one, I am sorry about that. I hope you liked it!!

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fieldsofwriting · 7 months ago

Text

And so, the stars aligned. Pt. 2

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: Azriel knew you can't read. And he knows you would never admit it. So he tricks you into taking reading lessons.

Warnings: Slight mentions of nightmares.

part one part three, Part Four Masterlist Requests are open!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You had come into your room to grab something. And had lost every train of thought as you saw the note neatly placed on top of the book you carted around for show- not quite sloppy hand writing but it was clearly male and in a rush. A...stick figure drawing of you? Clearly Feyre had not drawn this. But there is an attention to detail, your hair is colored correctly, and your eyes also the right shade- or as close as you could get in crayon. Truthfully, it could have been anyone female but since it was in your room, it was safe to assume. And then a book- the library? Is that where this mystery would be solved. You were far too curious now to just not go.

And so, you folded the note up and put in into one of your pockets. Heading down there quickly. The only sound as you enter is the clicking of your shoes. Looking around you, and making your way over to Clotho's desk. The priest doesn’t look up at you but quickly writes, 'Ah, y/n to what do we owe the pleasure?'

You smile and pull out the note to show it to her. "It seems- I was summoned." Clotho's amusement oozes off her and she simple writes.

'Go down to level five and you should find what you're looking for.' Squinting suspiciously at her for just a second you debate listening. But that is your inner Nesta speaking, and as much as you loved your oldest sister you didn't want to be completely like her. So, complying with a general order wouldn’t be an issue.

Thanking Clotho quickly you make your way down to the fifth level. And you could have throttled Azriel as he looked over at you with a set of children's books, letter sheets and pencils. He was leisurely sitting there, legs crossed, his ankle resting on his thigh. Arms crossed as he looked at you. And knowing him, while his face remained neutral- he had a feline smirk just like Rhys’s on the inside. Stomping over, crossing your arms and glaring down at the Illyrian man you hiss, "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you how to read." He answers simply, not even slightly phased by your intense gaze. The shadows that normally linger around him aren’t there, instead- as if to mock how little of a threat you are- they pool at his feet like a dog. You'd have to talk to Nesta about getting that icy glare down pat.

"You're still on about that?" You scuff, turning on your heel to leave him with his silly ideas. But before you can get far, a gentle but rough hand grabs your elbow.

"If you can read, then I'll accept I was wrong and even buy you dinner." Azriel compromises. But he knew better, he saw the way your eyes glazed over when they looked at your book and there was no rhyme or reason as to when you flipped the page. Normally people had consistency when they were reading, You had none. Even when Nesta was reading smut there was consistency to it- albeit the page turns got faster but it was still consistent.

You were convinced you could do this. You didn't need him to know this about you. Not even your sisters knew- sure Nesta and Elain probably had inklings to it but you were just six when poverty struck. They were just kids too, it wasn't there job to teach you. Sitting down at the table you looked at the page. It was easy- just trace the letters. You could do that. So you picked up the pencil and started. And once you were done you slid it over to him. "See?"

He nods, taking the sheet and looking it over. Nodding as he examines the work. Then he sets it down and meets your intense eyes, but he doesn't shy away. He takes the first book off the stack. It was a young child's book- it should be a breeze for someone of your age. Prick. You think as he slides it over and folds his hands on the table. Watching the way your eyes widen. Your breathing hitches and there's a slight tremble to your hands as you take the book. He knows that look in your eyes- it's the one Feyre gets when she's calculating a plan. And he couldn't deny that he was slightly excited to see what you'd come up with.

Flipping open the book you know what he's probably looking for is some sortive consistency, so you'd let your eyes look at each word and then flip the page. And so, that's what you did. Finding it hard to keep up your little deception with his eyes focused so intensely on you. But you got to the end of the book and closed it with a triumphant smack. Looking back up at him- before you can open your mouth to speak, Azriel looks at you and asks. "What was it about?"

Shit. Fuck. You didn't look at the pictures! You quickly look down at the book and see a dog and a young boy on the cover. "Its about a dog and his owner." You say as evenly as you can manage for how fast your heart was beating. Azriel raises an eyebrow. Silently waiting for more. "When did you get so expressive?" You ask to quickly change the subject.

"I don't have to be on guard here. There is no one else around. And the priestess won't judge me for showing an emotion." He addresses your question simply, smoothly. Damn him and his stupid sliver tongue. He was the Shadowsinger! Of course he knew how to evade topics and questions to redirect to what he wanted! He taps the book in between the two of you again. And you look at his hands, scars running all along them, and of course you had know that. But it was the first time that you saw them this clearly. And as much as you wanted to get out of this situation- you knew that question was out of the question. "What is this about?" His voice remains gentle, but slightly stern.

Azriel watches you for any signs. He had seen many of them- you were a bad liar. Your emotions written all over your face. Your eyes, they showed everything. How no one else saw it astonished him. And for a second, as he watches how you look down at the book with apprehension and sorrow, that you quickly wash away once your gazes meet again...he sees your resolve break.

"Fine." You say quietly. "I can't read." Your cheeks heat at the confession- it felt so...so...mortifying that you were now twenty, an immortal High Fae and had no idea how to read. "Please don't tell the others." The last thing you wanted was for your sisters to look at you with that pitiful look they always seemed to give you when you mentioned something. Let alone, how awful it make you feel if Nesta fell back into her vices. Granted you knew Cassian wouldn’t let that happen.

He thinks his heart might just burst for a moment. Seeing you so somber. Azriel had watched you from the second you were dumped out of that Cauldron. Shaking, crying, gasping for air. The first thing you did was try and push it over so your sisters wouldn’t bare the same fate. And for the first few weeks after, when he heard your screams in the middle of the night. He'd make sure you were alright, given you the space to talk to him if needed. You rarely took the opportunity. Pushing him away despite him reaching out. Keeping him at an arms length for reasons he didn’t understand. Time, though. Everyone kept telling him with time, you’d come around. But you pushed him right into Elain. Not that he hated your older sister. No, far from it. They were good friends, they could talk for hours about anything and everything. But she wasn't you. She wasn't his. She had her mate, and Rhys has made it clear to him that despite his feelings toward her- they could never be. Lucian wouldn't accept it until she flat out rejected him, and even then they had no idea what the other male would do. Rhys didn't want to loose his brother over a girl. And while Azriel grumbled and snarled at him, deep down. He knew that he was right.

But watching you, moving through the Night Court with a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a grace that rivaled Elain's...Hearing your laugh in a crowed room and smiling into his drink. He knew that you made yourself seem happy, chipper, played the part of the sweet younger sister for everyone. So looking at you now, as your cheeks burn red and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. He'd do anything he could to make sure you'd never look like that again. Azriel gently takes your hand, letting his thumb swipe over your knuckles as you look up at him. "I won't tell a soul."

And you believe him. The sincerity in his eyes, he's got no reason to lie to you. But you can't help the smile that creeps up. "Thank you."

And a comfortable silence falls as you both continue to look at each other and let your thoughts run free. Before Azriel clears his throat- and you were about 87% sure that there was a blush creeping in. "I can continue to teach you, if you'd like."

Looking down at the book in between you, where your hand was still in his. Tracing the lines of his scars gently, you nodded. "I think i'd like that."

Azriel didn't bother to hide his smile.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: This got very long, very fast. But I hope you all like it! Let me know if there is anything else you guys wanna see! And if y’all wanna be added to the tag list, let me know! :3

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92

#azriel x reader #acotar series #acotar fanart #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #pro nesta #nesta acotar #elain x lucien #elain archeron #pro elain

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doromoni · 4 months ago

Text

The Tip Off | MV1 , LN4

Off Time : A Spin Off (Max’s Pov)

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Presenter! Reader, Lando Norris x F1 Presenter Reader

Genre : Angst

Subtags : Unrequited Love, Untold Feelings,

A/N : SURPRISE! bet you didn’t expect this huh? 🤭 pls do let me know your thoughts. Also, I’m sorry in advance 🥹🙏

Summary : Off Time - retold in Max’s perspective

Masterlist

Series : Off Time , On the Defence , Playing Offense

Max couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he started seeing Y/N L/N in a new and different light. Max always saw you around but he didn’t exactly pay attention to your presence. But now? he was hyper-aware whenever you were near or when someone said your name.

Max knew that nursing feelings for you was not smart, not at all. Everyone knew that you were Lando’s girl — even when Lando himself gave you no time of the day. Even more so he, himself was in a serious long-term relationship!

Maybe it all started a year back when the rain had been pouring in Silverstone and you were stuck in the Red Bull motorhome after your one-on-one interview together.

Everything was all smiles and the mood was cozy and warm, the two of you were just lounging waiting for the rain to subside. Till suddenly you looked at your phone, and your smile fell.

Max was about to ask what was wrong when you suddenly stood up, held his hand and pulled him up from the couch.

“Max come play in the rain with me” Max was taken aback. Not by your request, but by the amount of emotions that filled your eyes. It held pain, but your smile held courage and bravery.

To Max, you looked dazzling. He admired the strength you held. A strength that he wished he had when he was still a young boy.

Max indulged your craziness. As the two of you stepped out into the rain and the water soaked you both, Max couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your arms were spread wide as you ran circles around Max, then suddenly stopped and squatted down. It reminded Max of the ducks from his childhood; one of the few good memories he had then.

“What are you doing Little Duck?” Max couldn’t help but ask as he squatted down beside you. People were looking at the two of you weirdly — but that didn’t matter.

“ Max, would you date me?” Your question stirred something in Max. He knew that he shouldn’t entertain such questions or thoughts, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Max asked carefully examining you, while you still stared at the ground.

“Hypothetically, would you date me?” You asked again, now looking deep into his eyes.

“Never mind, don’t answer that”

Max was thankful that you cut him before he could answer because it scared him how much the answer was an astounding “YES”.

You suddenly stood up and looked up at the sky— feeling the rain pelting down on your face. Smiling at nothing in particular.

Max was once again mesmerized at the sight of you. His heart beating faster as you gazed down at him and offered your hand for him to hold.

“Thank you, Max… I needed this” You thanked the Dutch.

“Always, Y/N. Always” Max smiled back and it was now his turn to pull you back into the Motorhome — where soft and warm towels were waiting for you.

Or maybe it was during the FIA gala when you both came dateless. Max without Kelly because she was off on a photoshoot in Milan, and you… well, you were hopeful that Lando would’ve asked you.

Max saw you gazing at Lando and the date that he came with; you looked like a kicked puppy as you tried to smile through the pain.

Max knew that he needed to do something and take your pain away. Max stood from his seat and went to you. People were once again giving lingering glances at the man of the night, The year’s World Champion who was looking determined as he pushed past the crowd.

When Max offered you a hand, your eyes drifted up to meet his. Your eyes were glazed with unshed tears and your brows scrunching up with confusion. Max only smiled and offered his hand once more, which you reluctantly took.

He led you to the middle of the room, as the live orchestra started playing “I See the Light”

Max saw how your eyes shone as you recognized the song. A soft smile gracing your face as the two of you swayed together to the beat as Max held you gently.

“Thank you, Max. Really” You whispered as your head tilted up to look into the blue eyes of the driver.

Max was awestruck with you. Your dress made you look even more beautiful under the dimmed lights. You were an angel sent amongst mere mortals here.

“ He doesn’t deserve you” Max had suddenly voiced out, surprising you both. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but he did and Max stands by what he said.

“I-, I know, but I can’t help it you know?” You said as you gazed at Lando once more. Max felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut, but paying it no mind as he focused on you. Only on you

Max then twirled you out and back to him, successfully distracting you from the British driver.

Max Verstappen knew that what he was doing was dangerous and he was asking for heartache — it was clear as day where your heart lay. But he did not care because having you in his arms now was more than enough.

The night ended with Max dropping you off at your hotel door. You gave him one last smile, bid him goodbye and thanked him for everything — then laying a peck on his cheek. It was meant to be friendly— but to Max that was a sign that he needed to confirm to himself. Max Verstappen had fallen for you.

Max’s drive back to his hotel had him all over his thoughts. He needed to end things off with Kelly— it wasn’t fair for her when Max knew that someone else held his heart.

And break up with her, he did. But not before the news of his dance with you during the gala caught Kelly’s ears. She was furious, but she saw it coming … she did know Max; their years together allowed her that. Kelly knew that she was losing him even before Max knew himself.

Even then when Max was free to pursue whoever he liked, he chose to wait for you. Max had hope that you’d give up on Lando. Yet he would never pressure you to move on from the British driver who was also Max’s closest mate on the grid. Because it was your happiness that was the most important.

But Max was only patient when it came to you. When it came to other matters — Max was his usual assertive and hardheaded self. If he can’t rush you… he had other ways.

“Mate, are you not interested in Y/N?” Max quizzed Lando.

“Even you mate?? Why does everyone ask me that? No, I don’t like Y/N. I’m seeing someone else. Happy?” Lando could only shake his head in denial.

Happy? Indeed Max was happy. Lando was out of the picture and it was only up to Y/N. And the heavens had heard Max’s prayers— when Y/N had then started to distance herself from Lando.

Yet that only lasted for a while, because just like the rest of humanity — Lando finally saw Y/N in the same light that Max saw her.

Max knew that Lando was still the same person he knew, he was still one of his best mates— but Max couldn’t help but hold grudges against him.

Lando had now started being possessive with you— as if he owned you. It was as if the past where he didn’t care for you was erased into nothingness. Max remembered every tear you shed for the British driver.

Yet, Max’s heart was set on whatever you decided. You held his heart even though you didn’t know. It was yours to crush. Max was ready for you to break his heart into pieces just as much as you’d like.

And break it you did, even if you weren’t aware that you did — Max’s heart broke nonetheless.

You were late for your interview with Him and Checo. Although it has only been minutes, Max was worried about you; much so that he looked for you himself.

And there you were, In front of McLaren’s Motorhome. Max felt his heart crack — but he smiled nonetheless as he went near you.

“What are you doing, little duck??” Max asked. But he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I came looking for you, dummy! you’re late. What are you doing here just standing” Max lowered his head by bending his waist— leveling his eye with yours.

Max pretended to act dumb for a second, as he glanced at the glaringly orange motorhome.

No matter how much control Max had, he was just a man whose frustration was impossible to avoid.

“Oh, I see. It’s Lando again. Oh…Y/N. I wished you weren’t this blind. Others’d love to have you” Max muttered — it appeared that you didn’t hear the last part that he said. Max wasn’t sure to be thankful or annoyed.

“ What?? speak up, dude! I don’t know how Kelly puts up with you.” You asked. Max felt like he was punched in the stomach. Not from hearing the name of his Ex — but at your lack of awareness. Here he was offering you his heart, and there you were thinking that he was committed to someone else.

“Y/N. Kelly and I broke up months ago.” Max could only say; as he forced his face to put up a casual facade — and it came easily from the years of practice he had.

“What?! how?! why?!” You could only ask startled by the revelation.

BECAUSE OF YOU! Y/N L/N. YOU! FUCKING HELL, I LOVE YOU! Max wished he could scream it to the world. Max wished that he could scream it to you.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said “Never mind that you nosy little thing. We’re late!” and he pulled you in the direction of their motorhome.

Apparently, Lando wasn’t as ignorant of Max’s feelings towards you.

“Mate, do you like Y/N?” Lando asked without any added words.

“Yes, I do” Max replied directly to Lando not holding anything back.

“What?? What the fuck Max… how could you?! I love her!! I was here first” Lando was suddenly all up in Max’s space - demanding an explanation.

Max could only scoff as he pushed the McLaren driver off of him and away from his space. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

“ Bullshit! you were only there because you were afraid that someone else wanted her!” Max exploded, as the memories of you crying because of the man in front of him.

Lando was speechless for some time; he knew to himself that was true. He only saw you when he lost you.

“ That may be true, but I love her now! and she loves me. You and I know it! Don’t make things harder for Y/N, don’t make her choose … because I’m not backing down.” Lando shouted his monologue then left right after — not even waiting for a reply from the Dutch Driver.

Max knew that his love for you was true and he couldn’t bear for you to be in pain. So if choosing between Him and Lando would do that — he was willing to give the chance up just to see you smile even if it wasn’t with him.

Max says that, but he didn’t expect just how much it hurts to see from afar. Max saw everything and he couldn’t look away because even if you were with Lando … at least he could still see you happy. Even if it wasn’t him who made you smile.

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rainrot4me · 19 days ago

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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 10

Kagekao x Female Reader - Stalking/CNC

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Stalking, consensual non consent, teasing, cunnilingus, blood and gore, depictions of murder, gross pervert man, semi-public, cat and mouse, blood smearing, begging, pleading

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.6k

Wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck, Kagekao scanned the busy roads and overcrowded bartops bustling with all kinds of people. Drunk bastards and flirty couples shoveling their way through streets and stoplights, cars honking and people shouting with excitement. He liked to watch, to examine just how different each one was. The rooftop view was nice though, out of sight from any curious eyes so high up.

The chilly night air was comfortable, leaning casually on a beam holding up a larger advertisement sign, the bright luminescent colors flashing obnoxiously above him. The demon could’ve stayed there all night, the stout smell of cigarettes and alcohol floating up to his perch and easing his excitement.

But he had a pretty girl to look for.

Every once in a while, when Kagekao grew bored of his usual games and repetitive forms of entertainment, you both would agree on a little cat-and-mouse routine, something to spice up the late nights when he grew restless. You would leave for the night, and Kagekao would follow discreetly, your oblivious mind never knowing when he would decide to swoop in and snatch you up.

You would dress up, harboring some skimpy clothing that revealed just a little too much and grabbed all the wrong attention, flaunting yourself in busy bars and crowded restaurants. Nasty men would circle, wrapping their arms around your waist and asking if you needed a ride home, buying you all kinds of fruity drinks and things you didn’t really like. Kagekao was there to watch it all, hopping from rooftop to rooftop as the breeze ruffled his dark hair, keeping a close watch on his precious woman.

You always promised you wouldn’t be a flirt, unaware that the demon was watching your every move, following along and catching your every sly smile and intentionally roaming hands on their chests or arms. Such a tease, such a minx. And he ate it up, too.

He watched you jump from bar to bar, hanging on to one guy after another. He hung on every step of the way, his excitement growing, waiting for the perfect moment to infiltrate your fun little night. It always ended the same, you just had to decide who.

It was late, far after midnight when you and some unnamed drunk stumbled out of a nasty dive bar, his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you leaned into his touch. The demon knew you weren’t unfaithful, far from it- this was all your ploy to get his breathing spiked, claws scraping against the concrete of the building as he watched you both saunter into a dark alleyway. Kagekao could feel his heart thump in his chest, each moment he watched this disgusting man press you against the rough wall, stupidly kissing along your bare neck and tugging at your tiny skirt, it just made his blood boil.

People walked by unknowingly, the darkness of the cramped alley covering any suspicious activity, but he could see it all. Every place his hand touched, every time his lips pressed against yours, every inch his fingers moved closer between your thighs- every action reflected with a sickly sweet smile on your face just to piss him off.

“Well played, angel.” Kagekao stood straight, adjusting his mask, the stark glow of his eyes flickering and sucking in the light around him. Tapping his feet off the edge of the rooftop, the demon gave just another moment of enjoying yourself before he dropped. It wasn’t incredibly high, unsurvivable for a human, but lucky for him landing on the ground was nothing more than a slight sting.

The loud thump of his arrival in the alley alerted you both, the drunk guy going to town on your neck glancing back, his eyes glazed over from the heavy amount of alcohol. Kagekao stood there, feet away as he smiled, clapping his hands slowly.

“Kage-” You breathed, pressing your hands on the man’s chest and shoving him off, pressing back against the wall. The guy was stunned, his confidence staggering as he looked the demon up and down, thrown off by his unusual attire. “Hello, pretty girl. Good show, really.”

“Wait a min- You know this guy, hun?” The drunk guy slurred, his use of a nickname nearly cracking Kagekao’s demeanor entirely, his claws aching to get a hold of him. You don’t answer, the man puffing up his chest and crossing his arms, some show of dominance that was futile. “Hey man, finder’s keeper, a’ight? Won’t you jus-”

You had already turned your head, looking in the opposite direction down the tight alley by the time Kagekao was on top of him, thick claws sinking deep into the meat of his neck. The demon’s eyes were piercing, staring, unblinking as he watched the man sputter and choke on globs of his own blood. “Aww, guess that means I get to keep her then? Ain’t that right, angel?” He chirped up, smiling under his mask at the satisfying pop of the man’s tendons snapping off of his spinal cord. He was gone, half-dead from the impact of his skull hitting the hard concrete ground, but now his eyes were already lulling back. Blood pooled onto Kagekao’s claws, thick globs running down to the ground and staining, the sour smell already thick in the air.

He was so lost in it, glaring with bloodlust intent that he almost missed the sound of you coughing, choking at the sight. Your heels clicked as you tried to shuffle away, pressing tight against the wall like you were trying to disappear into it. Kagekao flexed his claws out of the neck, the poor guy’s body shaking and flinching with the last efforts of life before going limp, a satisfying end.

Focusing his attention on you now, Kagekao’s eyes shone bright, the fiery irises burning a hole in you. Taking several steps back, you held your hands out, shaking your head as slowly as you could to not alert him further. “Kage… Listen, I- You’re not thinking right-” You’re stumbling over your words, looking for the right things to say as your gaze flickers from the demon’s mask to the mangled body feet away. “You’ve never- Oh, God… Kage-”

Maybe he had gone a little too far. The usual routine was to knock the guy out and tease you around a little about being such a flirt before swiping you away for more fun. So what if this one had been a little too cocky for his liking, and a little too touchy… It didn’t matter. Kagekao was itching now, body wracked with so much pent-up energy he had to expend it somehow.

“What? We’re having so much fun and now you don’t wanna play anymore?” He mocked you, taking heavy steps closer and closer, laughing every time you took another inch back. You were cornering yourself, shoving deeper into the dark alleyway like it would be safer. You were shaking your head, skirt riding up your pretty thighs just enough to make him groan. He couldn’t blame the dead guy, you were so easy on the eyes it was hard to even look away.

“Angel. Don’t be runnin’ now…” He chuckled, closing the space between you two as your back connected with the back wall, panic creeping in as his eyes nearly glowed in contrast to the shadows. He snaps forward, a yelp as Kagekao’s claws wrap around your cute face, blood smearing across your skin and snaring into your hair. It felt hard to breathe with his chest pressing against yours, the rumble of his words shaking you as he playfully smeared dark red across your rosy cheeks. “Please, don’t…”

You try to push away, hands clawing and ruffling his clothes with anxious breaths, shaking under his weight. The demon smiles, swiping the blood on his claw across your puffy lips and smiling at how nice it looks. You were whimpering, tears welling in those pretty eyes. Kagekao could feel his cock getting harder by the second.

“Angel, fuck- y’look so gorgeous like this.” He snarls, dipping his claws lower to snag around your throat, tightening his grip just enough to make you gasp. “What- Oh ngh- Fuck-” You’re gasping when he nudges his knee between your thighs, separating them and pushing that skirt up further, your plump ass barely staying hidden. “Gotcha.” Kagekao smiles at the feeling of your clothed cunt drooling, seeping onto his pantleg, excited already.

“Don’t go acting like this wasn’t your intention. That’s alright, girl, I get it.” Letting off of your face, the demon drops to his knees, dipping his claws between your plush thighs and pushing them apart further. He wastes no time, pushing his hood back and nudging his mask up to his nose, his sour smile sending waves of anxiety through you.

Snagging his claws under your skirt, he shoves the fabric up, pushing it to your waist. Your panties are next, the damp fabric tinted with your arousal, and quickly being hauled down to your ankles. You settle your weight on the wall behind you, reaching forward to tangle your fingers into his hair, the dark strands being tugged uselessly as he presses forward.

You can’t see his eyes anymore, mask covering them, but you can see his smile- so sickly sweet as it disappears against your cunt. He licks a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, your pussy gushing its arousal and soaking your taste onto the muscle. Oh, how Kagekao loved this little game, the pathetic little whimpers leaving your mouth as he teases you, hot tongue going all the way up from your base, just underneath your swollen clit. He doesn’t fuck into your sloppy hole yet, he wants to hear you ask for it.

You moan out, doubling over as he abuses your clit, “Quit! Kage- not here, not now!” You’re so shy, so ashamed of the way your body reacts to him. You might’ve enjoyed it if every time you glanced up, you weren’t met with the body of the poor bastard you dragged out here. Kagekao wasn’t sane right now, wouldn’t listen to you. It’s so useless when you try to push his head away, shoving at his mask while he sucks heartily on your clit, completely avoiding your sopping entrance. “Stop- please, stop-”

“Keep cryin’, it jus’ makes you wetter…” He drooled, lapping at your throbbing clit as it pulses and jerked, heavy with your panic. You sob, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you push against his head, trying desperately to shut your thighs but he's so much stronger, pushing them even further apart like it’s nothing. “Yeah, jus’ like that.” He groans, tongue rubbing obscene little circles on your poor clit.

You hiccup, face burning at how unreasonable he was being. “Kagekao- I don’ want this- No!”

The full use of his name had him shuttering, wasting not another minute on your feeble clit and shoving his tongue into the warm pool of your entrance, shoveling his way past that tight ring and into the gush of your taste. “Oh, yeah?” He teases, voice muffled around your swelled cunt, so deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Hard to believe when you’re nearly dripping…”

His lips and chin are smeared with your juices, tongue lulling in and out of your cunt, pressing all the right spots. You can’t help that your hips jerk with the feeling, grinding down onto the muscle like you weren’t pleading with him to stop, to just wait a minute-

You’re dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his face, his tongue fucking you with such reckless abandon, like this is the reward you get for participating in his sick little game. “You make me so fuckin’ hard, angel. Y’know that? Little pussy is soo tight-” He slurs against you, nose bumping your clit and dragging a long, agonizing moan from your throat. The demon hopes each oblivious passerby can hear, each one glancing down the alley and getting a full view of you falling apart just from him.

“Maybe I shoulda kept him alive, s’like you wanted me to fuck you right here. To have him watch how I’m gonna fucking ruin this pretty pussy on my cock.” You’re scrambling to grab at his hair, biting into your puffy lips until it hurts, his tongue flicking with intent across your clit. You’re too distraught to even think of a reply, sobbing as you will your eyes not to look up at the body feet away, keeping them trained on only Kagekao’s nasty tongue. “N-no- I didn’t wan-”

“You’re right- Poor bastard… Look at what ya did to him… But look at what I get to do to you…” He claws against your thighs, blood smearing across your skin and glistening an ill reminder. You want to argue, to fight something pointless, something that can’t be changed now. “No, no, no-”

The demon is practically pussydrunk, blatantly teasing you for every sorry excuse for a plea as you ride his tongue, groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds. He smiles against your lips, smearing your arousal across his lips and licking them obscenely, chuckling into your warmth. You’re so close, gut so heavy and knotted you could cry. Kagekao can feel it, the way you flutter and clench onto his tongue, his lower lip collecting all of your sweet taste with the mess of your juices and saliva. “Kage- quit, I’m gon-”

But he doesn’t let you, sultry tongue stalling just long enough to have you rutting your hips down and physically begging for it. He’s taunting you with that sick smile, tongue smearing long, nauseating stripes between your folds, but refusing to brush your clit. “Tell me.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, now, angel. You’ve been asking me to stop all night, go ahead an’ tell me you want it.”

You sob, sniffling as you rut your hips, giving in to whatever restraint you had before. “Kage! Fuck- m-close- So, so close- Please don’t stop!”

Snagging his soiled lips onto your throbbing clit, he’s sucking like his life depends on it, wracking your body with jerk after satisfying jerk. You’re barely managing a strangled moan before you finally cum. All you can do is tighten your hold on his hair as wave after wave of such intense ecstasy hits you. With each flick of his tongue, he jolts you, sending flashes of light behind your eyelids as he crushes your hips down lower. Satisfied, Kagekao lets you have it, smearing your soaked cunt across his devilish tongue as you ride him out, shuddering.

Finally tugging away, you’re panting, sniffling the last of your tears down your cheeks as Kagekao stands, tugging his mask down so his eyes gleam a hearty white at you. You’re shaking, cunt still wracking with waves of pleasure, knees weak from standing.

You glance at the body behind him, cringing before the demon takes a step in front of your vision, blocking the unsightly view. You stare up at him, whining softly with each panicked breath.

“You’re so cute when you try to play victim, angel.” He’s cupping the side of your face, free hand easily unbuckling his belt, the cold metal sounds enough to have your cunt pulsing between your tired legs.

“Now, let’s see just how loud you can get before somebody comes looking…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

#rainykinktober2024 #creepypasta #smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta kagekao #kagekao #kagekao creepypasta #kagekao x female reader #kagekao smut #kagekao x reader #kinktober #slenderverse

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eddiernunson · 10 months ago

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Selfish | Steddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: Reader is torn as she wants two people at once, and she figures it's impossible...in the sense that they would never want her. She is proven wrong after making an accidental audience with Eddie one night...

Warnings: voyeurism, perv!Eddie, public smut, masturbation (f + m), a little bit of Steve x reader, double penetration...and lots of self indulgent writing.

Authors' Note: Yeah this is just self indulgent. That's all. I'd want them both. <3

Word Count: 10.8k

Selfish.

On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. There’re a million different voices in your head telling you to make a damn choice. Not just telling, but begging.

Not just in your head, but in your life. Your friend and confidant, Robin is one of the many voices telling you so.

You can’t help it, it started so innocently. During the course of the school year, you happen to start thinking that Eddie Munson is damn fine. Your paths barely cross, only seeing him across the cafeteria at lunch or the occasional party to sell. Something about him drew you in. His hair, his hands, his strong forearms, his lust for life, that slutty little waist… He is enticing, hypnotising.

It’s not like you’re ever going to get with someone who you’ve never spoken to unless you somehow drag him into a hallway closet. Oh, isn’t that idea ever tempting?

It’s an uneventful day at school, save for the random graffiti anonymously placed on each class room door. There were several suspects, the perpetrator found but not announced, much to the entire school’s dismay.

When Robin meets you at your regular table, she has a litany of complaints up her sleeve. If you don’t stop her, she can talk for hours about any given subject that passes through her brain. At this point, from an entire summer and autumn working with her on top of spending many hours shooting the shit with her, you’re ridiculously used to it. You might even call it charming.

As usual, you listen with an empathetic, yet distracted ear. Your eyes flicker to Munson every now and then, appreciating the way his muscle shirt shows off his toned arms. Usually, they’re engulfed by his large leather jacket, but on this unusually hot autumn day he is taking advantage of the warmer weather.

Oh, and so am I, you think to yourself, eyeing him up and down appreciatively.

Your eyes flicker back to Robin, holding back a giggle at her expression. She knows about your crush of course, not that you’d tried to hide it. Robin would come up with schemes to set you up with him, but there’s one little obstacle.

“You’re shameless, you know that?” She accuses, a half smile on her face. She’s being playful, as always. “One of these days, you’re going to have to make up your mind.”

This conversation is repeated, always on replay. It’s one of your little games. “I mean,” you start cheekily, “who said anything about talking to them?”

She shakes her head, quiet laughter leaving her lips. “You are impossible.”

See, Robin knew your secret. Not only were you infatuated with Eddie, but with your coworker as well. Steve.

Steve is a bit more realistic; you suppose. After all, you work part time with him, up to 25 hours a week. Most of the job is spent moving tapes from place to place, categorizing, and talking shit. Lately, even more than normal, you’re hypnotized by him, your eyes sometimes glazing over as you take in just how pretty his brown eyes are.

Man, do you have a thing for brown eyes.

This usually eggs him on, thinking his words must mean something. They don't, really. You don’t take in a single word of what he’s saying. You’re just admiring him, his pretty lips, the freckles decorating his skin…

See, your problem is that you can’t decide on which one you’d want more…not that there’s any part of you that remotely thinks you would have that luxury. You’re not possibly conceited enough to believe that you would have a choice. Really, if it came down to it, (emphasis on if), it would be which one would choose you.

And they have so much better to choose from.

So, you let yourself imagine it. There’s certainly no harm in the what if.

“Not impossible, just horny.” You laugh, winking at the way she chokes on her water.

Steve pushes the cart of returns around, tapping his hands rhythmically on the plastic. You are on rewind duty, using a rewinder to go through each returned tape quickly and effectively. It’s a weekday, so business has been slow. Weekdays give more leeway on the display tvs, topics of discussion, and finally, to fuck around.

“Hey, Robin isn’t working today, right?” Steve asks, looking back at you.

You’re invested in the movie playing, leaning against the counter. “Hmm?” The question registers. “Oh, no she’s off on Wednesdays, remember? Band rehearsal after school.”

“Right, right.” He nods, something clearly on his mind.

“Something going on in that pretty little head of yours, Harrington?” You ask, switching the tape out for a new one.

He looks over his shoulder, licking his lips. “Pretty, huh?”

You roll your eyes, completely missing the way his eyes trail down your body. Your disregard of any possibility for a mutual attraction really is your blind spot. “You know you’re pretty, Harrington. Don’t play dumb.”

He shakes his head, pushing the cart along towards the romance section. “If you say so, sweets.”

You lick your lips, tasting the cherry ChapStick that deepens the shade of your lips into a darker red. Something about him is different today.

On the computer is a sticky note asking if the back room filled with unlabelled tapes could be organized and categorized. With the lack of customers, list of chores completed, and plenty of time left in your shift, you end up being bored enough to follow through. It won’t be done in one shift, but at least you’ll get it started. It’s a damn tedious process.

Not even twenty minutes pass by, a pile of marked and labeled tapes already to your left when the door to the back room shuts. You suspect for only a second that Steve needed to grab something, until you feel a pair of hands on your hips and hot breath on your neck. You freeze, gulping as you stare dead ahead at the tapes standing in a row. Your throat dries up like a drain unplugged, every limb freezing in place like you’re glued to the spot.

“Steve?” You ask after a moment passes.

He hums, thumb swaying up and down your hip, gently brushing past the hem of your shirt onto your bare skin. The other hand curtains your hair from your shoulder, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck. As a reflex you relax into it, sighing as you lean into his warm, wet, touch. The sensation flutters throughout your limbs, turning every bone, every muscle, into gelatin.

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his teeth scrape across your skin decorated with goosebumps. Your relaxed disposition is short lived, freezing up when your mind catches up to what the hell is happening. “Wait—” you protest, head snapping up in a frenzy.

He holds your face, turning it towards him. Eyes are hooded, looking tired, but from his dilated eyes you can tell he’s anything but. “What?”

“We-we’re at work, Steve, someone can come in at any moment…”

He listens, partially, barely. His eyes flicker down to your lips, all shiny and tugging him in. “Is that your only protest?” Your heart races, feeling as if someone is pulling at the corners of your mouth as you hesitantly nod. “No one has come in for over an hour, and I locked the door and turned the sign around. We won’t be bothered.”

“Oh.” A gasp leaves your lips as he leans in for a kiss, mouth deliciously open against yours. He demands full control, his fingers spreading across your neck. Your body turns to face him, grabbing onto the collar of the polo shirt he wears under his green vest. You can barely keep up with him, giggling out of pure, absolute, giddiness.

His hand runs up your torso, shaking yet demanding. Your vest is pulled down your arms, his hand pulling you against him. He starts kissing down your neck, pushing you so his arm and your back collide with the shelf behind you. A startled gasp fills the small room, your feet shuffling as the mixed sensations create a pool in the bottom of your stomach.

“Look at you, so pretty, you feelin’ good?” You nod, a hand twisting under his shirt and grabbing at his bare torso. His voice is dripping in husk, gorgeous in a way you’ve only ever pictured.

“Uh huh,” you manage to choke out.

He doesn't falter at his multitasking, his expert tongue working against yours as his hands work the button of your jeans open and the zipper down. “Let’s see how soaked you are...” The joints where your jaw is attached to your skull feels as if they vanish as your jaw drops open and Steve places his hand on your thin, cotton panties.

“Shit, honey, you are soaked.” He mutters, a sly half smile on his face.

“Jesus,” you whimper as he gently teases you.

He wastes no time, pushing your pants down your ass, watching as he exposes you with a stupid level of intrigue. “Baby, you know how pretty your pussy is, just dripping wet, jus ‘for me?”

He slips a finger in, reaching the deepest depths, somewhere yours never fucking could. He’s so fucking good at it too, watching your face as his thumb rotates on your clit, the pleasure from it more than you knew was possible. “S-Stevie,” you whimper, fingers clutching onto his shirt. “Oh, my god.”

“Wanted to see you like this for weeks, honey.” He adds another finger, his face watching and listening for every reaction you feed him. He eats them up like he’s been starving for you.

This information simply didn’t process, because there is no possibility this is true. None. “R-really?” You ask, leg moving up to get better access to your pussy.

Steve smirks, relishing in how you tighten around his digits. “Of course, honey.” His voice is like velvet, tender and smooth. He starts to move them faster, pumping them quickly, watching the breaths from your mouth grow shallower, your head falling back onto a shelf. “You think I don’t notice you watching me?”

Steve loves the reactions you give him, watching how you melt into putty in his hands. “You did?” It’s so close, he’s only started and you’re already being hurtled towards the edge.

“The way your thighs tense up, your eyes watching me, those pretty lips parted…” he explains, you have to give him credit for being much more observant than you had pegged him for. “Wanted to put my thumb in your mouth so many times, darling.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, tensing up as you get close to your climax.

He laughs. You’re almost offended by his nonchalance. Is…is he not turned on, too? “We were surrounded by people, sweets. I have some self control, yunno.”

The reminder that you’re in the back room with him at work is on your mind, a hint of cockiness floods your head. “Evidently, not-not that much.”

He works his fingers harder, you’re not sure if it’s a reward or punishment for your words, but the orgasm is abrupt, overflowing your senses completely as you shake against the shelf. “There she is,” he mutters, fingers working you through every sensation he so expertly provides you.

He smirks as he watches the afterglow take over your face, biting his lip when your head finally lifts up to face him. Just when you think he couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he proves you wrong. You don’t doubt he will prove you wrong again. And again.

…and again.

You barely take a second to recover, hands fumbling down for his jeans button. “Kay, now I need you.” You urge him, grinning at the way his cock pops out against the fabric of his shirt. A hushed swear falls from your lips when you take in his size, bigger than you even thought he was.

And you thought he was huge.

“Yeah?” He asks, a droopy smile on his face when your eyes peer up at him.

You nod, wrapping your hand around him, jerking him off. He’s thick, the head flushed red and a vein wrapping around it. When his face crumples, a crease appearing between his eyes, you’ve already proven yourself right in your theory. “Please, Stevie.” You urge him, pulling his cock towards your entrance.

Your ass sits on an empty shelf, where it’s been resting since he fucked his fingers into you. When he slaps his cock, already leaking with precum, against your clit, you whine impatiently, silently begging for him. “I like when you ask so nicely. Do it s’more, will ya?”

“C’mon, Stevie, I want your cock, so fucking bad. I’ve pictured this so many times, I fucking need it. Please.” You don’t mention anything about a third party usually being present, but that could come up, maybe…

Steve grins, marveling in the way your voice is so pathetic for him. It’s even better than he imagined, by more than a million miles. A part of him is greedy for you, greedy for even more proof of how badly you’ve wanted him, despite the clear evidence from the first time he clocked it.

At the time, he wondered if he was picturing it, the way your eyes were unfocused and shifted down at his arms. He was barely flexing them, when he did experimentally, he watched your breath literally hitch, eyes hurriedly switching back to his face.

It took a few more days of experimentation, but he finally confirmed it when the evidence was too congruent to think otherwise.

He’s even more greedy for you, having spent many nights thinking about you bent over, on your knees, on your back, riding him, you name it, he’s thought of it.

He can ask you to continually beg for him another time, right now he’s just desperate for you, so he ignores the call to ask you to beg even more and pushes the head in.

The gasp, your jaw dropping, the swears that fall from your lips and invade the quiet room, the way your pussy sucks him in, everything about your reaction is perfect to him. The feeling is likewise, watching in real time as his eyes darken for you, and for you alone.

He’s huge in a way you can’t even comprehend, frighteningly so. Still, he starts thrusting, gently as he can muster, still stinging, regardless. He knows he should wait, he has to every time he’s with someone new, but god damn if your pussy wasn’t the best he’s ever felt in his life. His hips move wondrously, rolling them in a way that feels like magic.

You can’t help the yelps and the whines that fill the room, watching and combing your fingers through his famous locks. They’re so soft, despite the constant hairspray and hair products he uses. While the pain mostly overshadows the pleasure, the combination is beautifully laced together.

Boy, can he fuck better than you had imagined. While you have thought of some things while imagining him, nothing has ever even compared to all that he’s giving you.

The moans that pass through his mouth, the roll of his hips, the crumpled expression on his face…all things that your brain could never come up with. Sure, you thought he could talk dirty, imagined his long fingers instead of yours, maybe picturing the way you so desperately finger yourself; this wasn’t remotely close to what you imagined.

Hell, it wasn’t anywhere near what you had imagined.

It’s so much better.

You whimper, stuttering on the S of his name, unable to finish it, too blissed to care.

“S-s, what, honey? What’s that you were saying?” He chuckles deeply when you tighten around him. “Oh, you like being talked down to, huh? Like being put in your place?”

You nod, pulling him for a needy kiss, losing any sense of concentration when his hand lands on your clit, rubbing it in the exact way you needed him to.

“I fucking knew you would, little whore getting fucked at work, taking his big cock like you were made to, fuck.” His thrusts get stronger, harder, faster, gasping wordlessly at how fucking good he is at it.

“Fuck, Stevie, you gonna breed me? Gonna cum in my pussy? Need it so fucking bad, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

The smile that invades his face is cocky, watching you crumble under him. “Listen to your pretty voice beg for me, you really want me that bad, huh?” You nod, wondering how his hips hit harder. How was that possible? “Gonna breed you, honey, just keep being a good girl f’me, and I’ll fill you up, mmkay?”

You nod, watching the beads of sweat slowly coat his reddened face. One hand curls itself into the hair by the crown of your head, gripping tightly and watching the intense pleasure that takes over your face. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, no longer aware of any existence outside of this room, you’re here, only here, and will only be here.

“Shit, gonna fill you up, honey, need to feel you cum all over my cock, won’t you, please, sweets, need it—” while he thinks your begging is beautiful, his is just the thing to put you over the edge. The fluttering of your tight walls around him pulling the cum that fills you up beautifully.

His cock thrusts through the collective orgasm you feel together, the force of it pushing his load out of your pussy, you watch it leak past his length and down your thighs. It’s a sight that almost makes you cum again.

He smirks, catching his breath in time with you. He places kisses up your throat, taking in the way you tighten around him. Finally, you come back down to earth, the smell of sex in the room from your tryst overwhelming it. How much febreeze would it take to hide it? Your jeans are barely down to your knees, shirt ruffled, and hair a mess. Man, did you get caught up in him, his kiss, his scent, his cock.

A shy grin cascades across your face, watching as a piece of hair curls its way into his eye. “Hi, beautiful.” He greets, hand plastering itself onto your cheek.

“Hi.” You whisper, still pulsing around him.

“Did you enjoy it as much as I did?” He asks, biting his lip as his eyes look bored into yours.

“Probably more.” You admit, grinning cheekily. “You did all the work.”

He laughs in answer, placing a kiss on your cheek as he pulls out. The loss is stark, you suddenly feel so empty.

Oh, he did manage his entire length. Fuck.

“Was it everything you wanted?”

You flick an eyebrow up at him, tilting your head. “I don’t know, Harrington. You tell me.”

He laughs, winking at you. “Yeah, whatever.”

You wouldn’t exactly call yourself his girlfriend at this point because that certainly didn’t feel like an invitation for such. In fact, when Steve mentions his date coming up that weekend you don’t exactly feel heartbreak, just jealousy.

Whatever weird relationship you just started with him, coworkers with benefits or whatever, you are down for it. You're immediately wondering how often you’ll be in the back room with him, sharing cheeky looks across the room when he winks at you.

When he’s that good, it’s hard not to be.

Despite the urge to, you actually don’t tell Robin over the phone about your hook up with Steve. Something about the secrecy just makes it that much hotter. You lie, telling her the night was boring with customers appearing for their late returns.

The store is reopened, Steve grinning at you manically as he continues with his work. Well, if you can call putting the returns away “work”.

Your mom is at work for the night, taking a double at the hospital. She left twenty bucks on the counter for supper, leaving a note to order some take out. Well, pizza it is. You order the vegetarian deluxe, rolling your eyes at the wait time; forty-five minutes to an hour. Apparently, they are very busy tonight. Whatever.

You decide to kill time, running up to your room and jumping on your bed, kicking your panties off, keeping the sweatshirt you wear on. Your fingers happily dance themselves onto your clit, using some of the gift Steve left you as lubricant.

Sometimes, the person you imagine takes over for you, sometimes they simply put their cock in you, disguised in the form of a dildo. This time, they merely watch.

“That’s right, let’s see those fingers touch your pretty clit.” You imagine his voice, Eddie, picturing him watching you. “Little slut can’t even be satisfied with Harrington’s cock, huh?” He asks, and yeah, maybe you are a desperate slut ready for either man to take advantage of you. But who fucking cares, at this point? Your hand moves up to touch your tit, sneaking past the hem of your shirt, when your own imagination stops you. “No, you can touch yourself over your sweater, I’m letting you touch your pussy, isn’t that enough?”

Somehow it makes you moan desperately, massaging it pathetically. You shake your head, feeling a bit like a brat for the moment.

“No? Feeling greedy, huh?” He asks, you picture his dark brown eyes fixated on your pussy, fingers itching to touch you, just able to prevent himself from doing so.

You grin, nodding. “Please let me, I’ll be so good.” You take full advantage of no one being home.

“Hmm. Don’t think you will be…” He muses, and man, did you know what you liked. You desperately hoped he would know, too. “You already had Harrington’s cock today, and now you want someone else?”

“Yeah, she is quite a slut, ain’t she?” Oh, there he is.

The idea of the two of them here, watching you with dark eyes, both breaking at the seams at resisting the want to touch you, creates a new stir in you that feels nearly impossible.

“Look at how greedy she is, desperate for us, ain’t she?” You picture Eddie agreeing, squatting right in front of your bed to get a closer look.

Suddenly you forget about the urge to beg them to let you touch your tit and move on to begging for them. Begging for one of them, at least, to finally take pity on you and just fuck you already. Why is this so enticing to you? Why does it draw you in so, like a moth to a flame?

Well, you suppose if the flame was two hot, gorgeous, capable men, you’d be drawn to it just as a moth is, despite how badly the heat burns you.

Your fingers grow faster, gasping more intensely as the scenario furthers in your mind. You’re about to push yourself over the edge, the whines from your throat loud and desperate, when the doorbell rings twice, one after the other. Fuck, the pizza’s here.

You completely forgot you even ordered food to begin with.

You rush to put a pair of sweats on, petting your hair down desperately as you pick up the 20 from the counter. The bell rings twice more, you yell “I’m coming, I’m coming!” at the impatient driver. Well, you would’ve been if they were just five minutes slower.

The door opens to face Eddie Munson, holding a pizza in his hand and wearing a dorky delivery driver visor. Huh, the last thing you ever expect him to wear is a bright yellow visor, the shade of American cheese, with a dripping piece of pizza on it, that’s for damn sure. Well, the last thing you expected was to see Eddie Munson, especially with what you were just doing, what you were just picturing. Well, this is awkward. For you it is, for him you guessed it was just another delivery.

You smile awkwardly, tossing him the 20 and trading for your pizza. He asks how much you want back as the order and the delivery fee only cost you 10 dollars in total. You insist he takes the ten-dollar tip, grinning when he blinks in disbelief.

As much as you want to stay and talk to him and get a better handle of his voice, you were so close, and you can feel it starting to drift away. You close the door with a frank thank you and slide the pizza on the counter, running up the stairs.

As the door slams in his face, Eddie’s eyebrows raise, finding the whole interaction peculiar. In fact, when you opened the door, he clocked the scent right away. With how wet you are, both your arousal and Steve’s cum dripping down your thighs, it flooded his nose. Eddie knows the smell of pussy and knows it well. You were in such a rush to get back to your own imagination, you didn’t notice the way his jeans started to tent at the crotch.

Eddie starts to shrug it off, accepting the tip and taking the hint that you wanted alone time, but a sound, enticing and wonderous, floats into his ears. He thought he was hallucinating, did…did he just hear his name?

He wanders past the gate to your backyard and looks up to an open window, not seeing you, but hearing the moans that leave your throat as you continue your mission. His jaw slacks open, listening to you beg for him, beg for his cock. God, now knowing he has such power over you is driving him insane.

His cock throbs in his jeans to the point of hurting, he grabs himself just for the tiniest bit of relief, slightly stroking himself to the sound of your voice. Eddie’s legs are restless, like he wants to go back to your front door and ask if you want his help. He nearly carries himself there, ready to devour you, his career as a delivery driver be damned.

He only makes two strides when the second thing that freezes him into place comes out of your mouth. The first was you openly begging for him, but the second one is hearing you add someone else’s name in the mix. Eddie mistakes it for the wrong name, but as you intertwine his with Steve’s, it becomes clear to him that he wasn’t the only one you were currently begging for.

Your voice gets higher, more urgent, the begging transitions from begging for them to fuck you, which, jesus, to letting you finish. Man, he loves the way your mind works. He slips his cock out, unable to resist relieving himself any further. His eyes flicker to your neighbors’ lights, he hopes no one would be nosey enough to peer into your backyard for the night.

Come to think of it, he’s actually not sure he would care all that much.

The symphony of strings of swears and whimpers that float down from your window only adds fuel to his fire. “Oh, baby, just letting anyone listen to you, if they really wanted to, huh?” Sometimes being vocal is his Achillies heel. He should shut up, especially perving like this, but it’s nearly impossible.

You beg his name, imagining him and Steve refusing again.

“Listen to you beg like a little slut, hmm?” He muses, regretting that there’s nothing for him to clutch on to.

“Eddie, m’ so close…”

“Not yet, doll.” He chides, hoping you’ll play along.

A miracle happens, as if you know exactly what his intentions would be. “Stevie, please?”

“Hmm, don’t you dare, Harrington.” Eddie threatens, and now he really does want to join you.

“Please, I’ve been so good…”

Your insistence, your sweet voice begging for him, God, Eddie’s already so damn close himself. “Let’s hear it, baby.”

The stars align, because from the sounds of your whines that come from your window are just enough for Eddie to spill over his fist, spurts of his cum dripping onto the grass beneath him. From the sounds of it, your orgasm is something that makes your every muscle spasm, the kind that lingers for minutes after. While your mewls, and whines, and whimpers are practically perfect, Eddie really wishes he could get the visuals.

He sees a shadow move; he wonders if you just remembered you have food waiting. He’d better move from your driveway before you realize he’s still there.

On his way to drop off a pizza that is also waiting to be delivered, one he knows he will have to pay for himself after the wait, (worth it), an idea forms in his head that is just too good for him to pass up or call it like it is…insane.

When you feel a repetitive tap on your forearm at lunch the following week, you believe Robin is trying to annoy you. You ignore her, focusing on the novel you’re reading while you shrug her off. At the clearing of someone’s throat, you finally look up.

Oh, shit.

Eddie stands in front of you, hands in his pockets as he nods to the seat right next to you. All you can do is nod, out of breath as he sits in the seat right next to you.

“I’ll uh, just get going.” Robin mutters, shooting you a smirk as she gathers her backpack and takes off.

You shoot daggers at her, anxiously twisting your hands under the table, gulping as your nerves flood your senses.

Eddie rests his jacket leather covered arms on the table, head turned towards you. “Enjoy your pizza?” He asks, a twinkle in his eyes you can’t quite place.

Your brows furrow, confused until it dawns on you. He was the one that delivered it. “Oh…it-it was good.” You smile, sighing nervously.

A lopsided smile takes over Eddie’s face, he watches as the wheels turn in your pretty noggin. Knowing what the confusion meant when they furrow until the realization hits you. It’s a breath of fresh air, really, knowing he didn’t need to worry about rejection, knowing how secretly desperate you are for him.

He nods, licking his lips. “Good, good.” The way you sit nervously, the subtle tensing of your thighs, you’re sweet, amusing, even. “You going to Harrington’s party this Saturday?”

You blink, taking in the sentence. “Huh?”

He chuckles, and the smile on his face is gorgeous. “Harrington. Know him?” You nod, eyes wide. “You going to his party?”

Steve literally invited you the day before, suggesting he might drag you into a closet or something. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna go with me?”

Yes. Yes, you do. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “Sure.” You accept, leaning on your elbow, a shy smile on your face.

“Pick you up at 10?” Somehow, Eddie has the ability to make you feel breathless, and his skin hasn’t even grazed yours yet.

Hopelessly, desperately, you wait for Saturday. Over the week, Eddie has caught your eye across the cafeteria, shooting his cocky grin that continually melts you into a puddle.

That same cocky grin he gives you as he drives over to Steve’s. While Steve knows of your crush on him, he also was aware of how much you like Eddie. Honestly he’s just rooting for you, seeing the excited glint in your eye when you give him the news.

Every little part of you is wondering how it is possible that you might have the choice…when weeks ago you thought you had no possible chance with either of them. There’s a slight part of you wondering…wondering if you’d slipped into an alternate universe where the world is starting to work out in your favor. It feels plausible until you wondered why the hell you’d be going to work or doing homework in your perfect world.

Eddie’s hand rests on your shoulder as you enter, the music blaring from Steve’s living room. A crowd of sweaty teenagers jumping, grinding, dancing, filled to the brim with far too much alcohol. You’d barely said a word to him, stuck in your head as you accepted a red solo cup from him. He makes his own mix, a brown liquid you don’t recognize with some coke. Yours is a vodka-sprite mix, hoping the extra shot you pour will loosen you up a bit.

Or…a lot.

“Dance with me?” He asks, pointing to the living room as he takes a big swig.

You squint at him, already in the middle of taking a big gulp, wincing at the burn. “You dance?”

He shrugs, fingers tapping on the red plastic of his cup. “I do when pretty girls dance with me.”

You take another big gulp, already feeling the effects. What can I say, you are a lightweight. “Better go find one.”

Well, it seems the alcohol is doing its thing.

Eddie’s arm easily wraps around your waist, pulling you up against him. The look in his eye excites you, gulping as his hot breath is on your neck, enticing a shudder. “You little shit.” He mutters, a smug little grin on his face. “I was already asking a pretty girl for your information. I was giving you the privilege of asking, but now you have no choice.”

The cup nearly collides with your nose as he takes another swig, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand easily intertwines with yours as he tosses the cup over his shoulder, tugging you to the living room.

You follow him, hypnotized by his siren’s song. Eddie doesn’t have an inch of patience left in him, already antsy from the show you put on for him. He lets his hands wonder, holding you close to him and going everywhere, your hips, your thighs, your ass, even trailing under your tiny skirt. You don’t protest, inhaling his scent. The mix of body wash, cologne, and just him is mouthwatering.

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to from the way you melt in his arms when his lips finally land on yours. The reward of your moan vibrating into his mouth is just what he needs, the very reward he was looking for. You don’t have it in you to pretend you aren’t eager, your lips searching for his as soon as it registers. The kisses are urgent, fervent, and just the right amount of messy.

His knee makes its way between your legs, already mapping how easy it is to make you fall apart, even in the middle of a crowd. And do you ever fold in his arms even at the subtle touch of his hands on your skin, tongue on yours, the adrenaline in your veins… it’s enough to make you forget you’re in a crowd.

When his tongue lands on your throat, sending ripples of pure ecstasy down your spine. The moment he feels you start to grind on his thigh, he has you right where he wants you. His mouth dives into your ear, heated breaths sending a chill through you. “I’ll be right back.”

Confused, you catch his eye, faltering as his knee leaves where it’s stationed.

He winks, walking across the living room, feeling pretty smug at how he feels your eyes on the back of his head.

Now for his plan.

Steve invited a girl over for his party, deciding he’d do exactly what he had insisted he’d do with you. Instead, he’s mesmerized by how you and Eddie are grinding across the way from him. No matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the two of you, now wishing you were following through on said plans with him.

When Eddie’s lips met your neck, he feels entirely too restless, forcing himself not to place you in the middle of a sandwich he’d very much like to be a part of.

Now the girl is off with another dude having sought out a different sex buddy when Steve backed out, making out with some jock on his couch. Not that he cares, he’s barely noticed her. He’s far too busy being captivated by you and your date.

Speaking of your date, he attempts to look busy as soon as Eddie starts crossing the room, to where Steve assumed was the bathroom a few feet behind him. Boy, was he wrong. As Steve crowds into the wall, pretending to be staring off towards anywhere else, Eddie stops right next to him, observing Steve with a smirk.

Eddie started keeping track of Steve as soon as he got to the party, keeping mental tabs on him. It wasn’t hard, Steve’s eyes were glued the two of you, and it made Eddie’s plan ten times easier.

“Hi, Harrington.” He smirks, watching Steve’s shallow breathing and shifty eyes. Wasn’t very often he’s seen him lack confidence, and it’s almost too easy to get the two of you to dance how he wanted. “Enjoying the show?”

Steve falters, batting his pretty eyelashes as he processes it. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with his arms crossed. It certainly doesn’t help that Eddie had used every one of the tools in his belt. Shown off his arms, put some care into his hair, wore a shirt that was just a little too short for his torso…

As planned, it was working like a charm. “C’mon Steve, those pretty eyes of yours were burning a hole into the back of my head the entire time. Or…were you not watching the way she grinded on my leg?”

Steve’s eyes flicker to you, having now moved back into the kitchen to get another cup of alcohol. His eyes meet Eddie’s again, gulping, not able to find it in himself to deny any further. “Okay, so I was. It’s basically impossible not to.”

Eddie’s smile grows, his teeth just barely peeking through. “Isn’t it?” It really falls into Eddie’s favor that Steve was already against the wall, hand landing right next to his face. “Well, I gotta be honest, from the look on your face it almost looked like you wanted to join us.”

Oh god, is Steve hallucinating, or did Eddie just invite him to do the very thing he so desperately craved? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes again, amused at the hesitance Steve displays. “I’m not. I’m inviting you to one.”

Steve’s breath hitches, Eddie affirming exactly what he was afraid of. “Think she’d be down for that?”

The genuine laughter that leaves Eddie’s lips is a bit startling, to say the least. “I can say, Steve, with 100% certainty, that she would be.”

“Well, shit, Eds.” Steve laughs, already hard from the mere thought of it. “Let’s go get our girl.”

A part of you starts to worry, tipsy as you stare into your drink while sitting next to who you thought was Steve’s date but is all over some football jock. Despite your date being Eddie, you were glad. Your jealousy can start simmering down. You catch Eddie’s jeans ripped at the knee, eyes raking up to his face, noting Steve trailing right behind him.

Eddie ignores your confused face, offering his hand for you to take. Yours lands in his, and it wraps around yours as he effortlessly tugs you up to him. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” He waits for you to acknowledge Steve standing by you, eyebrow quirking up. “Oh, Steve’s joining us.”

You are not protesting. That's the last thing you'd be doing. If anything, it’s just sudden. All you can do is let out stuttered breaths, attempting to ask how, or why, before getting to the what.

Eddie pretends to falter, brow furrowing as he condescendingly tilts his head. “What, I thought this is what you wanted?”

Okay, how could he possibly know that? “Y-yes, yes, I do, but-but how--?”

“You should probably close your window next time you decide to order food and have a bit of fun, there, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot open wide, immediately understanding why Eddie approached you when he did. Your window. He leans into Steve, laughter sitting under his voice. “Stevie, should’ve heard her, she was begging for us both, sweet thing had no idea I could hear.”

Steve’s mouth turns into a smirk, watching the many phases your sweet face goes through. “That true? You thinking of us both at the same time?”

By this point, your eyes haven’t even stopped switching between the two men as they leer over you. You wonder how many times this exact scenario has crossed your mind, giving you eyes as they proposition you to be the delicious middle of their sandwich. It’s everything you want, everything you crave.

Then why the fuck is it so damn terrifying?

“You got words, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, catching Steve’s eye, who has his hands on his hips, his eyes curtained by those glorious locks.

No words come to mind, except how fucking wet their gazes make you feel. You let your action speak for itself, turning on the spot to run up the stairs.

You’re halfway up when you hear the thumping of two sets of feet behind you vaguely over the loud music, giggles bubbling up your throat as you turn around the corner down the hall. Not panic, but pure excitement fills your chest as the sounds of footsteps invade the upstairs. A hand grabs yours, yanking you back to the door that Steve opens, his own room.

Sometimes it’s occupied by some random hook ups, he usually tries to lock it for a big party, but honestly if there were someone in his room, he would’ve kicked them out. He’s already hooked up in his mom and dad’s room, as barf inducing as it is, and he refuses to do so on this particular night.

Eddie is right behind you as you enter, hands already making their way under your shirt. He’s eager, his hand hooking under the hem and lifting it over your head and your arms. The cold air meets your skin, gifting it goosebumps. Your shirt hits the floor, you can hear it on Steve’s hardwood. The sound is minor in the grand scheme of things, currently focused on Steve’s lips on yours and Eddie’s hands making their way under the wire of your bra.

Steve’s hands grab at your shoulders, pulling you so you fall on top of him, Eddie giggling as he lands on the two of you. Eddie’s laughs weave with the kisses he scatters along your back, your neck, hands moving absentmindedly as he undoes the backing of your bra.

Under you, Steve’s hands delicately grab the straps of the bra and pull them off your arms. Your bra is flung across the room without a second thought, Steve palming your tits and playing with the nipples between his fingers, twisting and groping them as you mewl into his ear.

Eddie falls sideways onto the bed, the momentum knocking both you and Steve on your sides as well with him. You giggle, starting to grab at the edge of Steve’s shirt to lift over his head. Eddie flips your skirt up, his long fingers touching the fabric over your weeping pussy.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie mumbles, sneaking under the waistband of your panties, touching you softly and moving his finger up and down. “Pretty baby must be turned on, hmm?”

Steve bends down to mouth at your nipples, his silk tongue hot and magical, gently nipping with his teeth in a way that makes your blood sing.

The marvelous mixture of sensation has your head flung back on Eddie’s shoulder, writhing in their holds as they work together. One of Eddie’s fingers slips in, long and deep within you. A loud gasp fills the room as Eddie’s thumb rotates your clit slowly and watches you fall apart.

His finger hooks, working perfectly against your g-spot. “F-fuck!”

Steve licks up the mound of your breast, dirtily licking all the way to your neck, nibbling bruises across your neck. “Gonna cum so quickly, sweets?” Steve asks, teasing you.

“Feels-feels so good!” You whimper, starting to grind helplessly on Eddie’s finger.

Steve’s eyes switch over to Eddie’s, who is already watching him. He grins, eyes switching from the metal-head’s eyes to his lips before licking his own. Both men are pressed against you as they lean in, their lips connecting as you lay in a true sandwich. Wet sounds of their kisses are loud in the room, and from their body language it gets heated fast as Eddie moans behind you, his fingers not resting for a second.

They’re fast and relentless, a heat in your pussy too hot, too much as you’re pushed over the edge like being pushed over a cliff. It hits you hard as you restlessly wither in-between them. Steve’s mouth moves from Eddie’s straight to yours, muffling the moans that leave your mouth.

The loss is sudden as Eddie removes his fingers to pull your skirt down your ass. “You want me to tell Stevie what I heard, or you wanna tell him?”

Your lips freeze against Steve’s, eyes opening, gulping as you back away from him.

“Ooh, I wanna know, what’d you hear, Eds?” Steve asks, getting the hint when Eddie helps move you on to your back.

“Well, from what I could tell she was picturing us watching her play with herself, begging for us to touch her, begging for our cocks, begging to cum…”

Shit, he did hear everything.

“Shit, when was this, honey?”

You bite on your pointer finger nervously as Eddie tugs on your thighs, giggles spilling from your mouth. “Wednesday.”

Steve shakes his head, unbuttoning his jeans as he grins at you, Eddie settling himself between your legs. “Oh, you greedy girl.”

Eddie finishes pulling your skirt down your legs, tossing it over his shoulder as he asks, “Why?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Steve asks, cockily grinning at Eddie as he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing free. “Yeah, she took my cock in the back of Family Video that day, didn’t ya, darlin’?”

Eddie quirks his eyebrow, staring up at you from in-between your legs, grinning intensely. “Oh, you are greedy aren’t ya? Maybe such a greedy girl doesn’t get her wildest fantasies coming true, hmm?”

He’s bluffing, but in your post-orgasm haze you can’t tell at all, you're just desperate for them. You protest it loudly, humming several no’s in a row.

“I dunno, maybe you can watch for tonight and we’ll let you join in another time, hmm?” Eddie taunts you, grabbing Steve’s cock and stroking it, Steve’s moan from final, sweet, relief filling the room.

You’re protesting more, resting on your forearms as you’re hypnotized by the way Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s. Okay, watching them isn’t all that terrible, but you’re already naked.

Eddie leans in, eyes still trained on Steve as he wraps his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock. You’re hypnotized by it, their constant eye contact creating an energy that is palpable. Eddie’s head tilts back, his tongue that he likes to show off so much at school lingering on Steve’s mushroom tip, reveling in the pearl of precum.

He kisses it, twisting his head to you. “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”

You nod, grinning manically. “Very much.”

“Maybe we can take pity on her, hey, Eds?” Steve asks, also looking at you.

“Yeah, she can watch another time.” Eddie mumbles, pulling away from Steve to lean in back between your legs. “For now, I need to bury my nose in this sweet little cunt.”

That’s the only warning you get before Eddie’s long tongue slides itself against your wet folds, a hot, wet stripe sending shivers up your spine. You can’t help the whine that leaves your throat, desperate and all too happy to accept it.

Steve saunters over to your mouth, stroking himself as he observes your face. “Think you can be a good girl and take this cock down your throat?” You nod, reaching for him pathetically. You guide his cock to your mouth, the large head pushing into your mouth. His length fills your mouth, pushing right to the back of your throat. “Oh, that’s a good girl.”

A hum leaves your mouth around him, somehow dividing your attention between Steve’s cock in your mouth and Eddie’s tongue on your pussy.

Speaking of Eddie, his tongue has been slowly working, barely putting an ounce of pressure, focused on gathering up any arousal you feed him. His fingers are harsh against your thighs, the friction nearly burning as he grips you tightly. “Fuck, you taste…” he pauses, gasping and greedy, “so sweet.”

Your mouth is busy, too busy to tell Eddie how much he just needs to touch you harder, already. Your hips do it for you, grinding up as a silent question. Simultaneously, your hands move to Steve’s base, playing with his balls. Your mouth makes a wet plop, suddenly in the mood to have them up against your face. Your greedy tongue pokes out to lick at the patched hair that covers them, gasping at the sweaty musk they radiate.

Steve buckles, swearing loudly as his hand lands roughly next to your face. “Oh, my gooood, baby.”

As a reaction, Eddie digs in further, his tongue pushing into you, deliciously long and vibrating into you as he hums. The stench of sweat and your dribble fills your nose, your face slobbered and wet. Eddie places his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles as the more you give him, the more he takes.

He knows the smell of pussy, and your smell has driven him completely insane, like a pheromone that overwhelms any logic he once held and replaces it with you.

You gasp, taking Steve’s cock back in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Steve’s hand curls into your hair, his thumb swaying against your cheek. You can barely focus on it, the overstimulation making that oh-so-funny feeling take over once more, swelling in your stomach.

“You gonna cum again, honey?” Steve asks, his hips moving slowly, yet picking up at an unprecedented rate. You nod around him, his cock hitting and forming a beautiful swell in your cheek, moaning around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little mouth, then we’ll pay attention to Eds over there, hmm? Bet he needs some help, hmm?”

“Might cum from her taste alone, honestly,” Eddie mumbles, working his tongue even faster, even more.

That single sentence does it for you, mouth tightening around Steve as you spill onto Eddie’s tongue, legs tightening around his ears. Steve feels as you moan around him, every part of you tensing, your mouth specifically tightening and pulling sticky ropes that jump down your throat.

It becomes too much, overflowing your mouth and drooling down your chin. Eddie kisses your thigh, lapping up the arousal that spilled to your thighs. Steve pulls out, watching with hooded and hazy eyes as your mouth stays open, tongue poking out covered in him, smiling as when his eyes drift to your throat gulping as he flows down your throat.

“Did I hear you say it was my turn?” Eddie asks, head poking out from between your legs. “Does that mean I get to feel this tight little pussy wrapped around my cock?”

Steve chuckles, his hand still wrapped in your hair. “If I’ve already had a turn, guess it only seems fair.” His thumb swipes across your chin, gathering the excess cum that gathered.

Out of nowhere Eddie pounces, grabbing Steve’s wrist and lapping the sticky substance with his tongue, making a show of it. Well, Eddie is nothing if not a performer.

Steve seems to think his turn is over, turning to the mess of clothes on the floor. “Stevie,” you whine, sitting up. Your legs feel like jelly, grabbing at the shirt on Eddie right next to you. How is Eddie still fully dressed? “Do you have lube?”

“You don’t need lube, sweets, you're soaked.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “Not what I meant, Ed.” You look back to Steve. “Hey, stop getting dressed! You got lube, right?”

“Uh…yes.” Steve startles, hands on his hips with his hips, eyebrows furrowed.

How have they not picked up on it yet? “Seriously?” You ask, switching between their confused glances. “Remember how Eddie said you’d make every fantasy come true?” They nod, you move onto your knees, undoing Eddie’s belt, and button quickly. “Well, when I pictured this, I pictured every hole being filled.”

Usually, a sentence like this would make you shy, embarrassingly so. However, the collective stare the two men give you is mind numbingly arousing.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters, sharing a bewildered look with Steve. “Well, go get the damn lube, Steve!”

Steve chuckles, moseying to the bedside table and grabbing a small bottle.

Your hands, frozen on Eddie’s half undone jeans, finally start moving again, pulling down his jeans and underpants. His cock springs out, the head an angry red. You lean forward, extending your legs backward as you lean forward to accept Eddie in the back of your throat.

Steve comes from behind him, lifting the loose black shirt he wears over his head, sprinkling kisses along Eddie’s skin.

Eddie groans, lifting his head up. “Fuck, ok, get up, need to feel that pussy right now.”

You smirk, getting off Eddie with a pop, standing up on weak legs. Eddie pulls you right against him, wrapping your lips in a sweet kiss. His tongue wastes no time to reach out to touch yours, connecting wonderfully. Eddie turns the two of you around, kicking off his jeans and stumbling over them. He falls backward onto the bed, you falling onto him and giggling like a madman.

A hand wraps around your cheeks, squishing them comically and pulling your face upward. “Kiss me, honey.”

You grin, locking lips with Steve as your body hitches up toward him. A pair of hands plant you back down, bare pussy connecting with Eddie’s gorgeous cock. The sensation makes you whine, thighs tensing around Eddies. Your hips grind helplessly, hoping it pushes him in. “Patience, sweets.”

You whine impatiently, petulantly groaning against Steve’s lips. You part from him, staring down at Eddie. “Stop teasing me, and—” your sentence cuts short, Eddie grinning in satisfaction as he shuts you up. A hushed swear leaves your throat, elongated and stuttered on the sh in shit.

Your impatience is the size of a teaspoon, hips rutting down to take more of him quicker, even though he’s at a size where you know you should take your time. “Take your time,” Eddie tuts, wrapping his hand in your hair.

“I can’t.” You whine, trying to pull him in more.

Impossibly, you manage to take in Eddie’s full length faster than you know you should. It’s still not fast enough.

A second pair of hands land on your ass, grabbing at the apples of your cheeks with harsh nails digging into the soft skin. Eddie’s hands are on your hips, fingertips under the edge of Steve’s. A cold, thick liquid lands where it needs to, a finger pushes it in, a mighty pressure added to the mix.

You whine, bucking into them and grinding on Eddie’s cock simultaneously. A mix of sounds ring out, Eddie moaning, Steve chuckling, you breathlessly gasping. “Fuck.”

Steve adds another finger, twisting and playing, watching how both your holes spasm together, how Eddie’s cock starts to move for you when your hips are jerking too much to really do anything.

Eddie gasps into your ear, groaning and border-line whimpering. “F-fuck, feel this tight fucking pussy…Jesus, Harrington, you planned on keeping this to yourself?”

Steve doesn’t answer right away, inserting a third finger and grinning at your high-pitched reaction. “With how good it feels, can you fucking blame me?”

“How many times you pictured fucking me, sweets? Good as you thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, voice guttural.

“S-s-s-so much better,” you stutter, whining in the crook of his neck.

Over your shoulder, Steve winks at Eddie, and it gives Eddie the warning to pause his movements to allow Steve to enter. The pressure of the head against the hole is so good. “Fuck,” you whimper, gasping desperately.

If there’s anything you’re willing to admit, it’s that you never knew you could feel this good, this full, it’s a shame it took this long, really. The stupid part is, Steve isn’t even halfway in. Your jaw drops, hands tensing and curling and toes twitching, so many little muscles moving instantaneously.

“You okay, sweets?” Eddie asks, whispering sweetly as your gasping grows in both depth and volume. You frantically nod, the sweat fierce and intense.

“More.” You beg, the only word that can possibly make sense to you.

However small, however faint, Steve heard the plea and pushed in more. Your jaw drops, leaning onto Eddie’s bare chest with your elbows and staring at Eddie’s darkened, brown eyes. He’s pretty, too pretty.

You adjust, and yeah, lube definitely needs to be used in this bullshit, it makes it feel so much better. “More,” you whimper, twisting your body to look back at Steve to see his reaction as he pushes in one last time.

The awkward twist of the body is worth it to see how his jaw drops and eyes close, followed by his head falling back in bliss. “Fuck, both your tight little holes are so good, honey.”

“What a good girl you are, love, god you take cock so well,” Eddie compliments you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Steve’s strong hand sways across your ass, caressing it fiercely. “Like she was made to, isn’t it,” he adds, hunching over your build to kiss the bare skin.

Your toes are curled, your whole-body tense, eyes closed as you lie in the sandwich that contains the three of you. Good. God, it’s good. The goodness that it is starts to trail down your cheeks, trailing off your chin. “Good,” you whimper, trying to look at both of them at once. “G-good. Move. Move,” you act restlessly, hands moving without a destination in mind, hips bucking anxiously with no such success.

They work in tandem, their hips synchronously moving together, both rolling their hips perfectly. Steve twists his arm around your torso, extending as he wraps his hand around your neck, fingers beautifully spread, choking the little air you have out of your lungs. Eddie stares up at your face in awe, holding your hips fiercely while his hips buck up.

Steve’s hand awkwardly spiders up your jaw, letting go of your neck to hook a thumb in your mouth and rest his fingers on your chin.

As a reflex, you start to suck on it. “What a pretty slut we have, hey, Stevie?” Eddie asks, admiring your pretty mouth wrapped around Steve’s thumb.

“Thirsting over her little holes being filled, taking it so well, fucking right, she is.” Steve agrees. He yanks his thumb out, using the same hand to lightly slap your ass.

You moan, loud and stuttered, and guttural at the sting of pain that just adds more to the pleasure. “Fuck!” Steve chuckles doing it again, harsher this time.

Eddie’s arms wrap around you, pulling your tits against his chest. He pulls you in for a kiss, dirty, and filled with spit. Steve slaps another time, harder than the others, you yell into Eddie’s mouth as a direct response. Your lips stutter off Eddie, whining desperately at the marvel.

“Whore.” You whine out, desperate.

“Oh, she wants to be called a whore, does she? Well she certainly earned it, didn’t she?” Eddie mocks, voice only a little bit strained. Eddie surges forward, slapping your ass harshly, igniting a yelp from you from the unexpected sting. “Sorry, Stevie, I wanted in on the fun.”

Steve grunts out a moan, “Of course, after all, our whore loves it, doesn’t she?”

They start to move faster, Eddie’s hips more jagged, Steve’s hips in a rolling pattern, both cocks fucking you in a way that is simply too good to be true.

That seemed to be the common theme for the night, good. While fantastic, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, are much better synonyms, good is the only word simple enough to reach your brain. Maybe the stream of tears trailing down your face are stealing the strong words from your vocabulary, maybe it’s the cocky look that sits on both their faces. Maybe it’s the wandering hands.

“Gonna cum.”

“Oh, make a mess for us, sweetheart.” Eddie commands, planting wet lips all along your jaw, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach.

Steve slips his hand around your thigh, placing two fingers on your clit. “Wanna feel this tight little hole as you cum, yeah? Gonna see our baby make another fucking mess.”

The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every nerve you have. Gasps leave your throat, high pitched and too much. “Cum all over me, baby.”

A feeling you’ve never had, a high you’ve never reached, comes into play, forcing you to push something you didn’t know you could. “Oh, I’m gonna—”

A gush overwhelms the heavy breaths that are coming from both Eddie and Steve. Your vision is flooded with stars, writhing in their collective hold.

It takes you a minute to recover from it, both men’s hips slowly bucking in, slowly hips rolling and swaying. You still look like you need time when you choke out, “Fuck me! Fill me up, please, please, please?”

“Of course, whatever the pretty girl wants.” Steve mutters, hands gripping onto your hips as he fucks into you, matching the relentless pace Eddie was already at.

“Jus’ like that, jus’ like that~”

“Oh fuck, keep begging like that, honey.” Steve encourages you, grabbing harshly against your scalp.

“You better be as close as I am, Harrington, or this will be embarrassing.” Eddie warns, only half joking with how desperate his moans sounded.

“Fill her up with me?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Eddie answers, grinning manically. “J-j-jesus christ!”

The symphony of moans as they fill you up in both holes is music to your ears, something you never thought you’d hear. You do your best to memorize every note, every consonant, every vowel, to commit it to memory.

The world freezes as three sets of lungs attempt to catch their breath. Hands gracing over any skin they can touch for a gentle caress. Caresses lead into kisses on skin, wet and comforting in the best way.

You can’t tell how much time passes as the three of you fall over into a three way spoon, cocks still keeping you good and full.

“Did so good, honey.” Steve praises, petting your hair and skin.

“Good girl, such a good girl for us.” Eddie adds, unable to help his hand fluttering over to Steve’s hair, as well.

Your gasps turn from whimpers to hums, accepting every whisper of appraisal with an overly satisfied grin sitting on your face. They pull themselves out eventually, you moan at the loss as your spaghetti limbs sprawl on the bed. “Gonna grab you some water, honey,” Steve whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.

“You need a bath, sweetheart? I know for a fact it fits the three of us down the hall.” Eddie asks right after him, yanking a pair of his jeans on.

You nod, head feeling heavy on your neck.

Eddie scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall. As the tub fills with hot, soapy water, Steve comes back up the steps with a cold glass of water to the bathroom. “Drink up.”

In Steve’s corner tub, you sit on Eddie’s lap, arms wrapped around him absentmindedly as Steve climbs in across the two of you. They spend their time washing your body, the hot water, and bubbles soothing and gentle as ever. It feels so good, so nice, it hurts to think it will end soon.

Your hormones must’ve been wild, because the tears fall down your face as you start to think about how badly you don’t want this to end. They’re worried, asking what’s wrong as they worriedly reach one another’s eyes. “’M selfish.”

“Why you selfish, sweets?” Eddie asks, tilting your chin up to him.

“Cause…cause I don’t want this to end…having both of you...it’s too good.”

Eddie and Steve share a glance, the both of them knew from the start it wasn’t just a one-time thing. “Who said this was going to end?” Attempting to reach your eyes with his.

“What?” You ask, a beautiful flicker of hope in you.

Eddie’s arms tighten around you, hand reaching in to kiss your cheek. “It’s nowhere near over, baby.”

“You’re too good for us to let you go, honey.”

“Really?” You ask, now a tad skeptical. “You’re going to let me be selfish enough to have both of you?”

“Please.” Steve chuckles, eyebrow furrowing at the crash down the stairs. “If anything, we’re the selfish ones, honey.”

Selfish.

On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. But when there’s two enticing and captivating voices telling you that’s not possible, you forget the word even exists.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n

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n0tamused · 1 month ago

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I read about this practice in china called "ghost wedding" where one of or two deceased individuals are ceremoniously married and i was wondering if you could do a ghost!reader(fem) x zhongli where she just hangs around him as his ghost wife and it's just cute and fluffy(no necr0phil!a involved btw)

A/n: Hello! Thank you so much for your request. This turned out a bit more bittersweet than just cute and fluffy but I did my best to stay close to the request idea. I have researched the tradition, but I still kept it a bit more vague here just out of respect. If there's anything wrong with how I wrote this I would appreaciate it if you kindly let me know <3 I haven't written for Zhongli, this sweet old man, in a good long while too aaa.. Hope you enjoy!

Contents: Zhongli x fem!reader, angst, bittersweet, dead s/o

Ko-fi

Lover's Oath

The morning was fresh and crisp even as the sun sent lances of light through the gloomy clouds, bathing the earth in scarce golden rays. Zhongli had only began to stir, his dreamless sleep having provided little comfort to his mind which the erosion slowly began to gnaw on. The other side of the bed still held your weight, feeling wisps of your warmth that he forbid himself to forget. You were there (once), even if he did not feel you.

Sometimes he could catch glimpses of a starlit shadow from the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at it his eyes only met the vastness of his home. You were there (once), illuminating the home with your presence alone.

Zhongli rose from his bed, the sheets sliding off of him as if someone helped him to undress himself off the covers. There were two cups on the counter where he had drank his tea before bedtime, deep into the night, and the liquid in the other cup was cold, yet he could swear some of it was missing. He did not dwell on it, only smiling as he took it as a sign of your presence for it meant you were still with him.

Hu Tao had not been so surprised when her Consultant confessed his plan to go through with this ‘ghost wedding’, yet she did worry for the old man’s heart. He had requested her presence at the procession, although the leading would be led by another person, he said. Hu Tao could not deny this invitation, it was sacred and sad and close to her own profession. One heart, one soul, one balance, that was what the marriage meant to him, it meant everything. Traditional or not, he had lingered long amidst the people of Liyue and began to feel in the same way they do, and your death had left a hole where his heart once was. So many years of union shattered in a mere moment. He thought he could mourn and pretend to move on, but the thought of your spirit becoming restless or barred from peace kept him up at night. He couldn’t get himself to get over the idea of separation from you, and so he went through with the marriage.

Ever since then, his home didn’t feel as empty, although it remained barren of your presence in the real sense of the world. You were there, he knew, but he could never touch you or hear you unless he was dreaming. And when he dreamt he dreamt of the two of you in places far away and bathed in golden colors and amber hues, his long locks of hair twirling between your teasing fingers. You’re smiling at him, laying in the field of flowers - glaze lilies and qingxin - and they seem to swallow you, cradle you. And he comes over to hug you as well, rolling with you in the bed of flowers the two of you planted.

His hands are led by something that lies beyond his mind while he hums a tune, the deep warmth of his tone rumbling through his throat, sounding like warm honey. He smiles at the memories, the warmer ones, as they appear behind his eyelids whenever he blinks and silently he sits down to drink the tea his hands poured, your cup now filled with a steaming blend of herbs that you once loved to go and pick with him. He could imagine you holding it now, sniffing at the aromatic steam and going in to taste it before he says “Be careful, it is still too hot”.

When he leaves home, the warmth leaves as well and work consumes him. Hu Tao had noticed his lack of conversation, his usual chattiness replaced by longer paragraphs on the paper, and she had made a habit of stopping by to question him and how he was, if he needed anything. But every time she did, Zhongli would smile his sweet smile and tell her everything was alright, he felt better now.

And he did. He just missed you, he told himself as he ventured back home, noticing one light had been turned on, or perhaps he left it that way since morning. But the cup of tea was missing some of the liquid and there was a smell of incense in the air. A few petals from the flowers he brought the other day were scattered around the house, and one petal, more vibrant than the others, lay in the middle of his pillow.

You were here. He wasn’t alone. His wife was here, his dearest.

The thought made him smile, sadly, but he smiled earnestly until his cheeks hurt and his eyes swelled with salty tears.

That night he left your cup of tea full. He hugged his pillow that night as well, his nose searching for your scent in the fabric and that night he dreamed of you, waiting for him in front of a house amidst golden clouds.

#-better an arrow than you #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x female reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli drabble #zhongli angst #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #angst and fluff #bittersweet lol

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rey-129-fan · 6 months ago

Text

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location. Well, we are moving up in the world. That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is. And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose. There were voices in the background progressively getting louder. “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise. Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway. Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice. “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit. In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake. Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear. Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is. However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man. “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened. Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field. It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author. I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it. Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny! You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm! Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look. On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man. One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl. The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives. The man was a muscular blond. All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder. The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work. Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help. Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t. Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up. See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage? Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What? No! Kyle! Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn. This is some nice creature work! Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle! I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them. Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head. Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something. All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly. And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one. More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been. That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders. It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching. Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind. But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

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annwrites · 18 days ago

Text

⸻ a call to arms. part nine.

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: with the war at its end, rhaenyra summons you to the red keep to choose your reward for your part in it. · tw: intimations that reader has ptsd, war flashbacks, murder, fire · word count: 2,448

The people are screaming and great plumes of smoke rise into the sky, blocking out the sun. There is only darkness here.

Flames lick at the sides of sunken ships with sailors still trapped inside.

You can’t save them.

There is only one who you can.

The rest of them can burn.

“Jacaerys!”

You scream his name until your voice is hoarse, even it’s difficult to even try. The air here is unclean.

Everything is. Including you and the beast you ride and commit unspeakable acts upon the back of.

It reeks of the stench of burning, boiling flesh upon this stretch of sea now.

Your fault.

That is your fault.

You’d seen Vermax fall from the sky and Jace with him. And then you had snapped.

You’d unleashed Silverwing upon the enemy without reservation. Had burned ship after ship which blocked the Gullet, screaming in your grief with bared teeth like a venomous serpent looking to swallow its prey whole.

Your lover, your prince, the young man who now holds your heart has disappeared from sight.

But you know his soul has not gone quiet yet; you can still feel him within you. Buried inside of you.

Such a familiar feeling it is to you now.

One you’ll never forget for as long as you live. You pray to the Gods for as much, at least.

You know they won’t forgive you for what you’ve done here, but you plead for them not to punish him for your transgressions.

“Jacaerys!”

A scorpion bolt launches in your direction and your dragon swoops low, easily dodging it.

And the fire in your belly only grows at them trying to take you down, too.

No one here is safe. Not anymore after harming him. After killing a part of him: his dragon.

“Dracarys!” You screech , and Silverwing opens her maw and a funnel of fire shoots forth, charring the scorpion, as well as those manning it.

She doesn’t stop until the entire ship is turned into a mass of charcoal.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you begin to fear that you’ve gone mad.

You’d had something else to live for, but in this moment… In this moment, all you can think of is him. Nothing else matters. Not anymore.

“Jacaerys!”

Suddenly, Silverwing dives and dives without your command, and you don’t try to stop her, because that same draw she’s following toward something unknown, you feel it, too. Trust it. Trust her.

And then you see him clinging to the side of a ship and you could cry and shout from the relief of the sight of him.

But something is wrong.

Something is pinning him to it.

One of those same bolts that your dragon had so easily dodged is lodged firmly in Jace’s left leg, which is turned in the wrong direction.

Bile rises in your throat at what they’ve done to your beloved.

“Jacaerys!”

His head slowly rises and curls full of ash fall over his glazed-over eyes as he stares up at you.

Your dragon dives lower, her feet hanging over dark water as she flaps her wings slowly—only fast enough to keep her afloat.

You strain, reaching out a hand toward him.

“Please!” You shout with tears brimming in your eyes.

He blinks up at you and you know he’s far away within his mind. Perhaps infection is already spreading through his blood.

You won’t let him die like this.

You won’t.

You can’t.

“My sweet boy, please! My love, take my hand!”

Silverwing roars and Jace begins to reach toward you.

“Mama.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at his lips.

The words leaving them are not in his voice.

This isn’t how it happened.

“Mama.”

No, this is all wrong. This isn’t—

“Mama, wake up!”

When your eyes open, you find yourself safe within your bed, but drenched in sweat as little Maisily leans over you with a concerned look upon her young face.

“Mama,” she says, pressing her palm to your damp cheek. “Another nightmare.”

You nod slowly and wrap your arms around her, before pulling her against your breast. “I’m sorry if I woke you, my love.”

She snuggles against you.

“You have to go to the castle today,” she says quietly.

You nod while cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know.”

“But I can’t come,” she says with a pout.

Your lip twitches. “Not today, I fear. I’m sorry, little one.”

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door then and your eyes flit to it.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opens and your mother steps inside with a smile on her lips, if not a near-distant look in her eyes.

You understand her better now, you think.

Though, you’re admittedly not the same. She’s not a murderer. It’s not her own unspeakable acts which haunt her, but instead the death of the man she loved.

At least you do not share in that.

Alike in some ways you are, different in others.

You’re grateful that Maisily did not actually come from you, then. For you are a monster. And she is pure.

“Today is the big day,” she says softly. “Do you want to rehearse your list again?”

You sit up slowly while Maisily curls around your lap, burying her face in your stomach.

“A proper home, which I know is already being arranged anyway. Nevertheless, I will mention it. And the surety that you and Maisily will never go without again. That you’ll never want for anything,” you say, running your fingers through your little girl’s curls.

Your mother steps closer inside and wraps her shawl more tightly around herself.

“It would do you well to insist upon something for yourself,” she states, seating herself beside you.

You shake your head. “All I want is to know that both of you will be looked after for the rest of your days. That’s all I ever wanted since the beginning. And now I’m sure we’ll have that.”

She nods slowly. “I don’t imagine the queen telling you no in anything after saving the life of her son.”

Maisily sits up then and wraps her arms around your neck.

You smooth the wild curls at the back of her head.

You merely hum in agreement.

You stand silent and only your eyes roam about the room you now stand in.

All you can think about is the swords. There are so many of them.

You wonder how Aegon and his sisters were able to do it: kill thousands without remorse. With pride. With conviction.

Your body twitches and you fight the feeling to run screaming from this room in a panic down.

You need only get through this audience and then you can go home.

And then you hear it.

Click.

You remain facing forward, even if it takes all your strength not to turn and look. To watch him. Rather, see him.

The last time you did, he’d barely known who you were, he was so heavily under the influence of milk of the poppy to dull his pain as maesters tended to his ruined leg.

And then he passes you, his betrothed following closely behind.

You swallow down the lump in your throat at the sight of his polished wooden cane and the new limp to his gait.

If you had gotten to him sooner, then maybe…

You tell yourself that you did the best you could. That he may not be here at all, were it not for you.

You feel like a failure anyway.

Next is the young princes, following closely behind their brother: Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon.

Poor Stormcloud died upon the steps of Dragonstone and Viserys’ dragon egg will forever be lost at sea. But he’s young enough that you’re sure he’ll be given another to replace it.

If Silverwing produces any clutches herself, you will offer one up to him—whichever egg he’d like.

And then the queen enters the room and all bow to her in reverence, including you.

She takes her throne and gestures that you all should rise.

Your eyes flit nervously to Jace and tears sting them at his refusal to so much as glance in your direction.

You need to accept it: that whatever it was that the two of you had—rather, what you thought you’d had—is as dead as his dragon.

As dead as your soul.

You’d been right about him from the beginning: he used you for his own purposes and has now chosen to dispose of you like waste.

You turn to the queen, knowing it matters not. You’re here for your family. And once you’ve claimed your reward for your part in the war, you’ll never see one another again.

He will go on to marry Baela and produce heirs and take the throne when the time comes. And you will long be forgotten to him.

You know not if you want for him to be to you one day.

The wounds of war you bear will never heal.

They will instead leave you twisted and broken, much like his damaged limb.

“I know little of where to start, Y/N,” the queen begins, adding a gentle, thankful smile. “Without your efforts—your part in this war—my son and heir would not be standing here with us today. Without you and my other dragonseeds, Spicetown would exist only in memory.”

You force a smile and wipe your sweaty palms against the skirt of your dress. “For the latter, we have you to thank as well, Your Grace.”

It’s true.

After you returned the injured Jacaerys to Dragonstone, Rhaenyra went near-mad with anger at the sight of her son so close to crossing the veil that shields you all from the realm of the Gods.

And so all mounted up, including her, to go and defend Spicetown.

She’d been a grand thing to behold on the back of Syrax as she served alongside you and Addam and Daemon and Hugh and more as you defended the town’s people.

Lives, homes, and shops were lost, but from what you understand, she has reallocated funds to aid in rebuilding.

The people praise her for it.

You think it is much deserved.

She bows her head slightly. “Thank you. Nevertheless, we are not here to discuss my good deeds, but instead yours, and the reward you would claim for them. For risking your life for us at the Gullet and at Spicetown. So, tell me, My Lady—for I intend to dub you as thee as well—what do you desire?”

You swallow thickly. You are to be titled now? Something you had certainly not expected… You feel yourself undeserving, but do not say this.

Her decision is made in that already.

You shift on your feet and glance quickly to Jace, who stares up at his mother, and then back to the woman in question.

“I know you assured me on Dragonstone, after the Gullet, that if we survived this war, you would provide my family and I with proper housing more substantial than what we now live in.”

She nods. “I did. I would offer you a place here, if it please you.”

Your eyes grow wide.

No.

You can’t have that.

Cannot be near, yet so far from him.

Cannot be near the reminders of this war.

“I…thank you for the offer, Your Grace. But my family and I… We wish for solitude. After…”

You glance down nervously, trying to gather yourself, ignoring the way your hands twitch and your stomach churns, making you feel nauseous. “I merely want peace. Quiet. To be left alone. I can’t…”

She interrupts, so as to lift the burden from you of trying to explain that which words have no use for. “I had anticipated you may decline. As such, there is housing just off of Rhaenys’ Hill I’ve had prepared for you. Just incase. It will be furnished and tended to however you like, to best suit you and your family. Any work you need done, I will have personally saw to.”

Your chin wobbles. “Thank—”

Your voice breaks and she merely nods her head that you needn’t say more.

“Is there nothing more I can do for you?” She presses.

You take a moment to gather yourself. “My mother. She… After my father passed, she has not been the same. To have servants to tend to and look after her—”

“Consider it done. She will want for naught and will have whatever care she requires. That burden is no longer yours to bear from this day forward.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and begin to weep, but know you must press forward for one last thing. “Maisily. My little sister. P-proper schooling. Perhaps a septa, so she might be raised correctly.”

Rhaenyra smiles. “And a septa she will have for all her lessons. And, as she grows older, if she takes other interests, say in music, or the arts, she will have tutors to guide her along in that as well.”

You bite your lower lip and nod.

Rhaenyra shifts and cradles her chin between her fingers. “Would you ask for nothing for yourself, then? Your family will be tended to for as long as my line reigns. Including your sister’s children and so forth. But what of you, My Lady?”

You shrug slightly. “That was all I wanted: to know they’ll be taken care of. And thanks to you, Your Grace, they will be.”

She gives you a warm smile of understanding. “For anything else you might need, I want you not to hesitate to request an audience with me, or to correspond by raven. You have my undying gratitude for your service to me and my cause during this war. The crown thanks you deeply.”

You bow your head. “Thank you, Your Grace, for everything. You have my family’s thanks as well.”

You lift your head and take one last look at Jace, and that is when your eyes finally meet.

It may last for only moment—you gazing into familiar orbs of brown while he looks back at you with a look of indifference, which officially shatters your heart for good—but it simultaneously feels like an eternity…and not long enough at all.

He looks away, as do you as you turn and leave the Keep for what you hope is the first and last time, never to see him again.

You wonder for the briefest of moments if you ever truly knew him at all.

You bury that grief inside of you of losing someone you love yet again, and go home to those you still have.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea @burningwitchobject

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#fic: hotd (jacaerys velaryon x reader)#jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x oc #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #jacaerys fanfiction

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tange-my-rine · 9 months ago

Text

guard dog || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: Lemon has been trying to get you to see it for years. His brother was into you, so much it physically hurt to watch. That's what he said anyway. You were skeptical, to say the least. The fact that everyone who had ever hurt you, or even just threatened to, was dead though, was indisputable.

TW: protective!Tangerine, jealous!Tangerine, violence, murder, cursing (it's Tangerine), all things bullet train.

[[A/N: y'all know I love a good pining story 🫣🫣🫣, enjoy :) ]]

You'd known the twins for about as long as you've been in the business. Your handler was the same, and for a mission, they just decided to pair the three of you up. It was some simple grab-and-go, you can hardly remember now actually, but the three of you mended so well that your place was practically cemented.

Don't get you wrong, Tangerine has resisted, hard, since the beginning but you could see the progress. Or well, you hoped it was progress.

Lemon seemed to think so, and that was good enough for you. Who knew him better than Lemon, after all?

That brings you to now, where you sat in a fancy sort of gala -dressed to the nines; there was a man, some wealthy guy, that was the hit. Tangerine had gone to roam the crowds to, well, find him. Lemon sat inconspicuously to your right in a suit, a nice gray number, with a drink in his hand, looked a little like champagne but you couldn't be certain.

"You think he's lost?" You questioned, smiling over your cup -eyes directed to the crowd in a sweeping motion. You lagged on every good blue suit in the mix, perhaps for someone in particular, but you'd never say that out loud.

"'Wouldn't admit it if he was," Lemon retorted with a chuckle.

"I could get lost in here," you remarked, tapping your fingers along the tablecloth, gaze slipping across the ceiling -it was all shiny with chandeliers and painted columns, "-I bet there's at least 16 rooms on this floor."

Lemon pursed his lips, "He's only supposed to be in one, though, ain't he? Minglin' and such."

"He could've slipped away," you hummed, messing with your sleeve.

"Guess so," Lemon echoed, eyes glazed over the bustle of the people.

You paused for a moment, before saying, "Why did we send him again? He's really not the sociable type to get the guy's guard down, yeah?"

"Easy," Lemon smiled, something twinkling in his eyes, "-he wouldn't let me go because of competitive reasons and he wouldn't let you go because he'd sooner fuckin' die than leave you alone."

"Lemon," you lowered your voice, "-I'm an assassin, I'm sure I could've found this guy myself. I'm not a baby."

"Not sayin' you are love," he spoke matter-of-factly, "-It's nothin' about your skill, it's all him."

You quirked your brow, taking a long sip, "All him?"

"Have you really not noticed?" Lemon questioned, now fully facing you, "-He's like your fuckin' guard dog."

Ah, this again.

"Lemon, we've talked about this-"

"Doesn't mean it ain't true," he tsked, "-I can read people you know that, especially my brother."

You did know that, but your brain just really couldn't wrap around the idea of Tangerine seeing you that way. Not that it wasn't desirable, god was it desirable- it just didn't make any sense. He didn't treat you any differently than his brother, except for small things. Like holding open the door, pulling out your chair, and listening to you talk thoughtfully (unlike with his brother who he'd directly told to 'shut the fuck up').

He was just polite.

And it's not like you didn't think him to be handsome. He was probably one of the most well-crafted people on the planet, all pressed suits and slick hair and blue eyes and strong arms-

"Think back for me," Lemon interrupted your train of thought, thankfully, "-last mission, how many people got their hands on you?"

A grab-and-go, some sort of drive, you think.

"Like how many I fought? I mostly knocked them out, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Lemon agreed, "-but, somehow, they all ended up dead. Not your doin', not my doin'."

"Well," you scoffed, "-you can't leave witnesses-"

"Mission before that," he continued, relentless, "-quick in and out, nobody but the target to die, yeah? But some bloke held your arm too tight, remember?"

He'd wanted to buy you a drink, and you said no. He insisted. By the time you'd gotten him off, Tangerine had neatly sauntered to your side. You'd always thought it was weird timing, actually.

"Yeah," you hummed, furrowing your brow, "-okay. He didn't die though."

"Yeah, he did, back alley when you were in the car," Lemon replied, taking a long sip of his drink -finishing it actually.

"What?!" You hissed, "-There was no need-"

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, love-" he held up his hands in surrender, "-I had nothin' to do with it. Except well, baggin' 'im up, Tan wanted to meet you in the car. He's always givin' me the dirty work."

Before you could respond, and you very much wanted to, Tangerine leisurely waltzed up to the table. Slow and steady steps didn't draw attention. Although you're not sure that mattered because well, everyone is going to look at him -I mean, come on-

"Disappeared in a room with a woman," he spoke quickly, exhaling a big breath, and snatching your drink from your fingertips -promptly downing it.

"Hey-" you began but didn't get far.

"I'll buy ya another one, love," he spoke, sly and smooth -sitting down to your left, exasperated, "-Fuckin' needed it. All the guy droned about was kissing arse and fuckin' stocks."

"You spoke to him?" You tilted your head, curious -promptly ignoring the fluttering when he called you love.

"No," he nearly spit out, "-just heard 'im. Real fuckin' piece of work, I tell ya."

Lemon hummed, "Good thing we're 'ere to kill 'im then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tangerine agreed before eyes flickering over the two of you, "-What have you been doin' then?"

"What do you think?" You laughed, "-Not much else we can do but sit."

"They haven't been flirtin'," Lemon smiled, teasing, "-if that's what you're askin'."

"Fuck you," Tangerine retorted, "-just thought I'd ask somethin' nice for once and you twist it, see? Can't be nice to you."

"Enough, you two," you exhaled, swatting at both of them -your hand brushed Tan's but you didn't focus on it for long, "-Guy's back out."

The man was tall, greying slightly by the ears and big full dark beard -seemed the type to be a beneficiary or whatever it was. His suit was one you recognized to be expensive, probably because of Tan now that you think about it, and he was swarmed by quite a few men -itching for conversation, advice, you assumed.

And then, his eyes, deep brown ones, slinked over the table, landing solely on you.

You smiled -the kind that made all the men happy, waving gently. Standing up, you patted the table and whispered to your partners.

"Looks like he has a weak spot," you spoke through your teeth, "-be back in ten. Don't bite each other's heads off, please!"

You were a people's person, and men were simple, it wouldn't be hard to get him into a private space and-

You were halted, something pulling on your wrist. Less pulling and more held in place, actually. Spinning on your toes, your eyes held on Tangerine's fingers pressed into your wrist -keeping you at the table.

"Tan!" you hissed out, trying to pull your hand away -it wasn't a hard grip, just enough to keep you unmoving, "-What the hell?"

He seemed to scramble for a second, eyes fluttering across your face, "You can't just go without a plan, you know 'at, right?"

"Tan," you seethed, voice low to keep unwanted ears out, "-the plan is simple, get him alone and kill him. Now, why don't you let me-"

"No," he reiterated, "-you can't just go on your own. He's got men by his side, 24/7, what are you supposed to do if-"

"Lemon," you hissed, trying to get him on your side.

"No," he spoke, passively, standing up, "-I'm not involved in this, you two sort it out. I'll take care of 'im, yeah?"

"Seriously?" You turned to him, merely watching as he disappeared into the crowd -there goes your backup.

You turned to him, something heavy in your eyes -disbelief, "Do you really think I can't do it, Tan?"

"Love," Tangerine began, standing up beside you -it was almost like you were holding hands, "-I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, right," you scoffed, shaking off his hand, "-I need some air."

That is what led you to push through the glass doors and back onto the patio, rain trickling down from the sky. You stayed under the ledge for a moment, before decidedly stepping into it; it brought you back to earth for a moment, anger and frustration slowly numbing to the patter against your skin.

You'd always liked the rain.

"Come out of the rain, love," he spoke, careful and quiet -gentle in a way you'd only seen once ever, "-you're gonna get a cold."

You ignored him, raindrops dusting off your eyelashes and making your clothes stick to your skin ever-so-slightly. It wasn't enough to give you a cold, you knew that.

"Please."

Now, that was new.

You turned to face him, eyes adjusting to the shadow of the ledge. He looked at you softly, like you held the entire world in your hands and he didn't want you to drop it; blue eyes dusting over your face for any signs of anything you assumed. Something in you faltered.

Wordlessly, you stepped back under the ledge.

As soon as you did, he shrugged off his coat jacket and put it on your shoulders -almost out of habit. Another thing to add to your list.

He spoke first, leaning against the wall right beside you, "I'm a fuckin' dick, aren't I?"

You laughed, just a little -looking at the ground, "Yeah, you are."

"Look, love," he started, slow -his hand brushed up against yours on the wall, "-I wasn't tryin' to say anythin' about you. I kno' you could kill 'im without even thinkin' about it. You're incredible-"

Something in you twinkled, cheeks dusting a pink -not that you'd let him see.

"I just-" he started, running his hands through his hair -you watched the motion with lazy eyes, curious, "-I'm fuckin' daft."

"You are," you answered with a lilt of a tease, before turning to him, seriously, "-but why did you freak out like that? I really just thought you didn't trust me-"

He spun to you then, catching your eyes with his -a breath shattered out of your lungs, his hands firmly on your arms to keep you in place, "I trust you with my life. I do."

You hummed, looking at him critically, "Then what, Tan? If you trust me and know I'm good, then what's the problem?"

"It's not-" he sighed, eyes leaving yours as he rubbed a hand down his face -turning away slightly, with one hand still just below your shoulder, "-Fuck, I never wanted to-"

"Tan," you echoed out, gently placing your fingers against his jaw -turning him to meet your eyes, "-you can tell me anything, you know that."

You were so close now, a breath away from him -blue eyes flicking across your features, a bit frantic. You could feel his breath fan across your face, as your hands fell back to your side. You didn't dare blink. It almost felt like-

Could Lemon be...?

Your brain was working against you, as you blurted out, "Are you my guard dog?"

Tangerine paused, eyebrows furrowing, all tension now dissipated, "What?"

"Shit, I didn't-" you stepped back, but his hand on your arm didn't let you roam far, "-Lemon keeps telling me you're like my guard dog. All protective and like constantly keeping your eye out, not letting me go anywhere without you-"

"Your guard dog?"

"Yeah, it's stupid, but-" you paused, looking back at him, curious, "-did you really kill that guy in Madrid?"

"The hit?" He questioned, something in him relaxing, "-no Lemon did, you don't remember? The fucker stabbed me in the leg-"

And then, he fell silent -something passing over his face in recognition.

"In my defense, you weren't supposed to know about 'at."

"Well, I do," you exhaled, expectedly, "-may I ask why?"

"Why what?" He asked, somewhat innocently.

"Tan," you stressed.

"Same reason I didn't let ya leave," he exhaled, simply, like you knew the reason. You thought you might, but you weren't taking any chances.

"Tan, how am I supposed to-"

"He could've said bodyguard," he spoke, suddenly, working himself up, "-Just had to compare me to a fuckin' animal, didn't he? He's lucky I-"

"Tangerine."

"Right, yeah," he interrupted his thought process, eyes swimming to yours, "-I can... I can explain."

You met his eyes, "Please do."

He paused for a moment, seeming to settle on what to say, "I am... I am your fuckin'... guard dog, as my brother so eloquently put it."

You opened your mouth to comment.

"Hear me out, will ya?" He spoke, softly, fingers brushing circles against your arm -you merely nodded, "-I'm protective over ya, beyond belief really, not sure how ya didn't figure that one out."

Your hands went to the edge of his coat, tightening it on your shoulders. It was a little chilly now actually.

"Not because you can't protect yourself," he clarified before his eyes settled on your face -gentle and soft, almost... admiring, "-but because I don't kno' what I'd do if I lost you."

"Is it not the same with Lemon?" You questioned, your breath hollow in your chest.

"It's-" he cleared his throat, almost awkward, "-very different."

"Different how?"

"Love," he sighed, a little exhausted, "-I..."

"Just be honest with me, Tan," you echoed, a mere whisper, "-that's all I want."

And then his eyes darted over your face, swimming like he was committing every bit to memory... like he could never get enough. Suddenly, something settled over you, watching as the words stopped on his tongue but his face said it all.

He didn't have to say it, you realized -watching him, you knew.

With a breath, you pushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your head into his shoulder. His whole body tensed for a moment like he hadn't expected it, before relaxing -hands coming to twist along your waist.

"You don't have to say it," you muttered into his shirt, all crisp and clean, "-I know."

He spoke quietly, you could feel the breath on your skin, "You know?"

"I know," you repeated.

"'At mean I can take ya to dinner?" He questioned, playful but you could hear the nerves -you knew him well.

You pulled back, fingertips twisting in the curls on the back of his neck -smiling brightly, "I'd love to."

He grinned, and it crinkled at his eyes -now looking at you a bit like he can't believe it, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled back.

"You had your fill, you two?" Lemon interrupted, suddenly making himself known, "-Figured out all your shit, then?"

Tangerine's face dropped turning his head but making no move to let you go -it made your head fuzzy, "Don't fuckin' start."

"I won't," he held up his hands, before grinning -mischievously, "-I will say though, you can thank me anytime. Ya know, since I played fuckin' cupid."

"One more word," Tangerine leveled, eyes glaring daggers, "-I'm fuckin' serious, mate-"

"Thank you, Lemon," you interrupted, turning out of his grip -one hand still on your waist, you doubted he'd let you fully out of his grip, not now. You didn't mind.

"See?" Lemon asked, "-'At so hard, brother? Always liked 'em better, really."

Tangerine paused, jaw tensing as he licked along his teeth, reluctant but his eyes kept darting to you -he softened, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Lemon grinned for a second before he fell rather serious, "-really though, we should leave. 'Give 'em another fifteen minutes to find 'im."

Tangerine pressed his lips together, not moving.

"Seriously," Lemon echoed, "-I know ya expect me to be jokin' but I'm not, I give 'em fifteen minutes."

"Tan," you pushed, eyes meeting his, "-later. We have forever, don't we?"

Something in him softened, eyes dashing across your face, he bit down a smile. Wouldn't dare let Lemon catch him, you assumed.

He seemed to anyway.

"Oh, you are whipped, bro," Lemon retorted with a laugh.

"Don't," Tangerine seethed, "-I'll pound your fuckin' face in, you know 'at? Not another word."

You rolled your eyes, slipping your hand into his. This was your life now, huh?

You flickered over Tangerine practically tackling his brother to the ground, verbally, but his hand still gently wrapped around yours -unaffected.

Maybe that's okay.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine bt oneshot #tan's things #gn!reader #guard dog

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