#and at some point in the 80s he decides to try to stop it and goes all stoic and NOT little | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beenbaanbuun · 1 year ago

Text

cock warming w/jongho

words - 🫣

genre - fluff, nsfw

warnings - cockwarming, dom!jongho, sub!reader, kind of non-sexual intimacy (cockwarming but not necessarily horny), a single spank, praise, guidance, it’s just very cute

you cant convince me that jongho doesn’t absolutely love cockwarming. like there’s just something about the intimacy of it that really gets him going. mix that with the casual dominance of it all - him pinning you down with a strong arm, spanking your thigh if you begin to grow restless, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear as you lay your chest against his in a dizzy haze - and he’s going practically insane.

it’s movie night, just you and him, and for some unknown reason he decided to use that feature of netflix that picks a random film for you

of course, after 4 or 5 tries, it lands on nothing good (because it never does) and the two of you decide to settle for whatever random film it decided on

it starts off with you two making fun of the poor editing and direction of the film, picking at all the plot holes until you were both giggling incessantly

that little game lasted a while, but it didn’t take long for it to become boring and the two of you were plunged into a comfortable silence once more

until, of course, a sex scene!

in the grand scheme of things, it had no relation to the film whatsoever and was quite frankly incredibly poorly made

like you don’t know who those moans were coming from, but they didn’t match up with the mouths of either of the actors

but just as you were about to make fun of it to jongho, you noticed a little something of his lap

well, more like a big something, and you couldn’t help but gasp

“this is making you hard?” you scrutinise, eyes narrowing as you pull them away from the tent in his pants to instead look at his face

you expected him to be embarrassed or ashamed, but he wore a stoic expression as he shushed you

again, you gasped and sat up from the position you were in, leant up against him

“first you get hard to the worst sex scene i’ve ever seen, then you shush me?” you scoffed, “just say you hate me, next time.”

you watched as he rolled his eyes, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen to look at you

“i’ve been hard for the last 20 minutes,” he grumbled, “you just didn’t notice so i didn’t say anything.”

oh… that’s weird

it’s not like you’d been doing anything to try and make him hard, and it’s not like the film had even been remotely sexy in any way shape or form

like you’d understand if you were lay there in lingerie, but you were in what you described as your ‘grannie nightie’, curled up against him like you would be on any other night

you frowned

“well, why are you hard?” you asked

“am i not allowed to be?” he replied

it was a fair response, but you still wanted answers

“well there has to be a reason…” you mumbled

“i’m sorry, why don’t you just call the erection police?” his voice was dripping in sarcasm, “hello? 911? yeah, i was being cute around my boyfriend and now he’s hard. come arrest him please!”

at this point the film was just background noise as the two of you went back and forth bickering about his penis of all things…

“wait, your erection is because of me?” you cock your head to the side in confusion

again, your pyjamas were hardly the sexiest thing in the world, unless you’re an 80 year old man and this is the most thigh you’ve seen in years

but jongho wasn’t 80, and he saw your thighs on a daily basis

fuck, he saw a lot more than thigh on most days

“well who else would’ve caused it?” he glanced between you and the screen, “you can’t seriously believe this shit show made me hard?”

“oh,” you mumbled

“yeah, oh…” he rolled his eyes

and you thought that was it for a moment before his hands were on you and you were being tugged onto his lap like you were nothing more than a rag doll

you squeaked in surprise as his strong arms pinned you to his lap, erection digging into your thigh

you squirmed, but the look he gave you quickly stopped you in your tracks

“you want to know why i’m hard?” he mumbled into your ear, a soft smile gracing his lips

he looked so innocent, and you would’ve believed it if it weren’t for the obvious

you nodded

“you’re just too cute, baby,” he chuckled deeply into your ear, the sound heading immediately south, slicking you up a little, “in your cute little nightie, making your cute little comments. sue me for being attracted to you…”

“but that’s not…” you trailed off, “i’m not being sexy, am i?”

“you don’t have to be, baby,” he cooed, “you don’t have to make yourself sexy for me to want you. i want you just as much now as i would any other day.”

“so you want to fuck me because i’m not sexy?”

he scoffed, “i want to be close to you, baby. it’s not the same.”

it sounded the same to you, but still you nodded as if you understood

“want me to take a seat?” you grounded down once and he groaned

his eyes rolled back into his head in pleasure, but just as you were about to do it again he stopped you

“not if you’re not going to be a good girl and sit still for me,” you barely registered the sound of the slap until the stinging sensation spread though your thigh a moment later, “i said i didn’t want to fuck you, and here you are grinding on my dick like you can’t understand basic instructions!”

you stilled at his comment, a frown forming on your face

now you really didn’t get it…

he seemed to notice your sudden change in demeanour and sighed

“i don’t want to fuck you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to be inside of you,” he explained slowly, desperate to make you understand, “i just want you to be around me, sweetheart. no expectations, i just want to be close to you.”

oh…

you supposed that made a little sense

with a slightly less confused look, you nodded

you didn’t move though

you misunderstood him before, now you wanted him to guide you through it so you didn’t get it wrong again

luckily for you, jongho took more than a little pride in telling you what to do

it boosted his ego, and he couldn’t deny how sweet you looked when you followed his every instruction

so he gave you a sweet smile before setting his hands on your waist

“straddle me, baby.”

his hands never left your sides as you followed his directions

“good girl,” he praised, making you puff your chest out a little with pride, “now i need you to pull my bottoms down, hm?”

and you did it, because jongho was right - you were his good girl!

you reached your hands down and shuffled back a little to give his dick enough room to spring free

and when it did spring free, you couldn’t help but sit in awe of how pretty it was

you’d seen it before, but you were still shocked at how perfect it was every time you saw it

a decent size lengthwise, but thicker than most

a pretty pink tip that leaked pearlescent precum in little droplets

jongho chuckled

“you done staring, or do you want to take a picture?” your eyes widened and your gaze shot up to his face again.

he wore a wide smirk as you mumbled an apology

“it’s okay, sweetheart,” his thumbs rubbed circles over your sides, “now, can you slip your panties to the side for me? i want you to sit on me…”

and again, you did as he asked because you were good and you wanted to behave for him

so your fingers slid south and pushed the thin cotton to the side (ignoring the way you had to peel them away from your gooey wetness) and you shuffled forwards until your core was hovering above his cock

you slid down slowly, the stretch almost painful but not quite

it took a moment for you to bottom out, his tip snug against your cervix and your thighs resting against his own

the temptation to start bouncing was certainly there, but at the risk of no longer being his good girl, you decided not to

not that you could anyway, not when he brought his arms around you, pinning you to his chest and holding you there like it was just any regular cuddle on any regular day

like his dick wasn’t resting heavily inside of you

like you weren’t so close to disobeying and seeking out your own pleasure

a big hand came up to the back of your head to hold it against his shoulder, fingers lacing themselves in your hair and giving it gentle, rhythmic tugs like he always did when you needed to chill a little

his fingernails scratched against your scalp in a way that was so soothing, it seemed to turn your whole body to jelly

and suddenly, the horny tension that laced itself up within you dissipated like it was never there

well, it wasn’t completely gone - you still had your boyfriends dick in you, after all - but it was duller, more manageable

you moaned as you relaxed into his warmth that surrounded you from every angle possible, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle

“do you get it now, honey?” he whispered into your ear, “do you understand what i mean when i say i want you close?”

you just nod

“oh, you’re so precious, baby,” he gave you a particularly tight squeeze with his thick arms, “so good for me, hm? letting me hold you close like this. i expected it to take you longer to settle down, but you’re such a good girl, right? shouldn’t have doubted you, baby…”

his words made your mind cloud over as you sank into the praise that he spoon fed to you

you just lay there with your head on his shoulder, staring up at him like he was your entire universe, eating up every single word he said to you

“love you, bear,” you mumble into his neck

he chuckled

“love you too, honey.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez smut #jongho headcannons #jongho x reader #jongho fluff #jongho smut

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ghouldump · 6 months ago

Note

Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS

If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?

Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader

ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.

“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.

“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.

It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.

“Why now?”

“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.

“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”

“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.

“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.

“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.

“Let’s start here…”

Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.

“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.

“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.

“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

“Please….”

“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-

“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.

“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.

"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.

He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.

“What do you think?” Philip asked.

“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.

Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.

She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.

Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.

Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.

While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.

However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.

Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.

Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.

The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.

At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.

Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.

Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.

Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.

Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.

He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.

The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.

“Not a busy night?” you asked him.

“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.

Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.

“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.

“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.

“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.

“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-

“I-when would I start?”

“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.

“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”

“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.

The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.

“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.

“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.

That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.

“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.

“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.

“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.

“Cabaret?”

“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.

Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.

As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.

“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.

It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.

The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.

As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.

Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.

As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.

‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.

“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.

He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.

Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.

“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”

“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.

“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.

“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.

“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-

“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.

Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.

“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.

“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.

“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.

“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.

“I have to get home soon,” you said.

“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“He works a lot”

“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.

“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.

“I'm ready when you are, angel”

You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.

“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.

“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.

“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.

“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.

“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.

“Philip, the money is great”

“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-

“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.

“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.

Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.

“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.

“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.

“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.

“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.

“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-

“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.

“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.

“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course”

“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”

“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”

“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.

“And why is that?” You stopped walking.

“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.

“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.

“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.

“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-

“I can go home”

“Y/n-

“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.

“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.

“Come to my theater tomorrow night”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.

“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.

You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.

All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.

“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.

“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.

You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.

“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.

“Is Armand here?”

“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-

“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.

“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.

“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”

“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.

“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”

“I hope you’re right”

“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.

“Armand, I-

“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.

Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.

You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.

“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.

“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.

“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”

“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.

“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.

“Stay, for tonight”

“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.

“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.

Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.

Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.

As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

“Philip?”

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.

“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”

“You came to my show before?”

“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.

“Philip-

“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.

“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.

“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.

“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.

“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.

“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

“Philip-

“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

Run, run, don't stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.

“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he married you,” he admitted.

“What are you?”

“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.

Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.

“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.

“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”

“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.

“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

“No,” you said, breathlessly.

“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.

“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.

“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.

“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.

“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.

“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”

“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.

“Okay, let’s hear it”

“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”

“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.

“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”

“No-

“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.

“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”

“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.

“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.

“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”

“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.

“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.

“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.

“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.

“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.

“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.

“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.

Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.

From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.

Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.

Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.

Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.

“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.

“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.

“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.

“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.

Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.

#interview with the vampire #armand x reader #amc iwtv #amc armand #armand the vampire

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sexilene · 8 months ago

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kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!

oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.

"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.

"i was about to go to sleep jj."

"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.

"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.

"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."

"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.

"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.

"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.

"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."

"that you killed danny?"

"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.

"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"

"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.

"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.

"seriously! beat it!" he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"

"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.

you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.

"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.

"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"

"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.

"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.

"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"

"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.

"right. great. i'll drive you home."

"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.

"so which movie did you rent?"

"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."

"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"

"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.

"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.

"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.

"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.

"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.

"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.

"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.

"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.

"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"

"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting you onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.

"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.

"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.

"turn it off, please! please!…"

"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"

"uh huh…i swear just please!"

"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.

"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.

"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.

"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"

"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.

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hellfiremunsonn · 9 months ago

Text

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him.

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it.

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen. The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him.

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again.

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was.

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?"

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink.

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides.

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell. Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve.

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips.

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement.

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead.

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place.

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first"

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there.

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool.

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze.

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch.

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it.

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder.

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body.

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach.

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck.

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily.

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you.

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss.

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized.

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans.

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly.

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses.

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear.

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not.

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it.

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet.

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip.

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them.

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more.

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you.

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you.

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases.

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting.

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound.

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock.

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes.

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth.

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy.

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips.

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that.

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it.

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying.

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips.

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder.

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are.

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation.

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was.

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling.

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal.

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock.

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs.

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you.

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick.

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely.

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house.

"Yeah" Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

#hellfiremunsonn #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington stranger things #Stranger Things Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fluff #Stranger Things smut #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x (Y/N)#stranger things fic

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rillils · 1 month ago

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Do you have Wakanda Stucky fic recommendations ? I'm just weak for them in that phase with their looks 😭

I most certainly do, my dear nonnie! 💕💕 I'm gonna link a few of my favourites below, and I hope you'll find some of them to your liking :3

Just a heads-up, though: some of these are only visible if you're logged in on AO3, so make sure you're not there "only" as a guest, otherwise you won't be able to access them!

NOW LET'S GO:

Let this be light work by caughtinanocean (rated T) (8,628 words)

On the run with Sam and Natasha, Steve finds the words to describe his commitment to Bucky. As with most of Steve’s decisions, there are unintended consequences. “It’s no use,” Natasha tells Sam. “You won’t get him to go out and flirt. Steve here’s a married man.” They’re somewhere in Croatia, and Sam’s been hard at work, trying to pull Steve away from a busy night of sketching and staring at his phone. He wants to go out and drink plum brandy and dance with the locals. “You should go without me,” Steve says, hazy. Married. A married man. Isn’t that something?

Correspondent by girlfromcarolina (rated E) (8,049 words)

It started with Bucky sending him photos: the river with the sun gleaming on the surface or the moon’s silver streaks across the water. The children gathered around Bucky, teaching him a game. Words came eventually, thoughts and emotions laid down a few sentences at a time as they each began to feel more comfortable. The messages represented the chance to reconnect in ways they couldn’t while they hunted Zemo and tried to clear Bucky’s name. Some things were too difficult to say face-to-face; some questions were too complex.

deserving by sunflower_dragon19 (rated E) (1,401 words)

While Steve was away on a mission, Bucky spent his time eating whatever he liked and resting as much as he wanted. Steve very much appreciates the results.

Get It Right by sangha (rated E) (4,426 words)

He's been sweet on Steve for as long as he can remember. It's as natural as breathing to Bucky. He reckons a life without Steve wouldn't be much of a life at all. Or: a tale of two weddings, nearly 80 years apart.

ready, able by rohkeutta (rated T) (1,370 words)

Steve snorts, helplessly charmed. “Harold like your gang boss uncle Harold?” “A gentleman does not name his goats and tell,” Bucky says solemnly, but he leans a little more firmly against Steve’s side, and there are crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. He’s the best thing Steve has ever seen.

so here we go head first by endofadream (rated T) (1,631 words)

Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s face and says, so quietly Bucky could have easily missed it, “I missed you.” The first tear falls, then the next, and Bucky doesn't bother to try and stop them.

time on my hands (could be time spent with you) by thedoubteriswise (rated M) (23,023 words)

"You doing okay, kid?” Steve releases a breath, deciding how honest he wants to be. No point in lying. No point in telling the truth, either. "Glad to see you." "That’s not what I asked, but same to you, punk."

It's Waiting There for You by sunflower_dragon19 (rated E) (3,228 words)

"Shuri, me and Steve… we're not --" "Could have fooled me." She shook her head, muttering under her breath in Xhosa as she connected a series of wires in his arm. "My brother offered him the nicest guest suite in the palace and you know where he decided to stay instead?" She pointed an accusing finger at him. "In your hut. That has one bed." -- Steve visits Wakanda and Bucky decides he's done being afraid of his feelings.

i love him and our goat children by talkplaylove and wearing_tearing (rated T) (5,526 words)

“Bucky, why does Sam have a photo of you surrounded by goats and the words “Always be happy with Jesus” on it?” Steve asks, looking at him on the screen. Or the one where Steve and Bucky move in together, adopt some goat kids, and live happily ever after.

Moon River by sangha (rated E) (5,763 words)

Steve and Bucky are reunited in Wakanda and they can no longer run from their feelings for each other.

a line that goes all the way by napricot (rated E) (45,218 words)

"About six months after he left Bucky in cryostasis in Wakanda, Steve got a text from an unidentified number: He is awake and well, and wants to see you." Steve and Bucky reunite and reconnect, with some help from modern technology.

all my bones are begging me to beg for you by dragongirlG (rated E) (2,711 words)

After Thanos is defeated at the Battle of Wakanda, Steve accidentally doses himself with an aphrodisiac hidden inside of a celebratory alien drink. The ensuing side effects lead him to confess and act upon his feelings for Bucky, who readily agrees to help Steve work through his urges, much to Steve's surprise.

Not Bad (for the End of the World) by relenafanel (rated T) (2,425 words)

Bucky comes in from a day of work to get ready for an impending war, blow-dries his hair, has a small crisis over his nascent attraction for Steve. Just usual Bucky Barnes things.

love is blind (steve and bucky are just dumb) by talkplaylove and wearing_tearing (rated T) (4,409 words)

“You shouldn’t have interrupted their date, then,” Natasha pipes up, finally showing her face as she gives Bucky a wave and a tiny smile. “I like the hair.” “Thank you.” Bucky preens a little. He ignores the teasing about this being a date; Nat and Sam somehow got it into their heads that Steve and him were dating via Skype calls. They’re not. They’re just friends who video call sometimes. Friends do that.

Found My Place in Time by Cap_D, humapuma (rated E) (12,430 words)

“Buck,” he heard Steve say, “wake up. We’re here.” Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of his back. When Steve’s words sunk in, though, he turned and leaned forward, staring past Steve’s chest to look out the window. Beyond the wing of the plane, he found a beautiful coastline with white sand, blue waters, and palm trees, as well as rows of bungalows on the water. “Wow,” he murmured. “We’re staying in one of those, right?” In which Steve invites Bucky on a trip to Fiji and they discover something a lot more than beautiful vistas and friendly locals.

What a Bright Time (It's the Right Time) by sunflower_dragon19 (rated G) (2,531 words)

Bucky gets a Christmas surprise.

(i'll be home for christmas) if only in my dreams by crinklefries (rated T) (13,728 words)

“I told my best friend that story,” Steve says after a moment, voice thick. “When we were seven years old. And he told me he’d do the same for me. And that year, when I opened my present, inside was a small wooden bird to hang on the tree.” Bucky looks up at Steve, the little bird in his hand and Steve--well he’s smiling. “I don’t remember,” Bucky whispers.“I’ll tell you,” Steve says. *** (or; six Christmases Bucky Barnes doesn't remember--and one he will)

#anon #stucky #wakanda stucky #stucky in wakanda #idk how to tag but i figure at least one of those will work xD #fanfic #fic rec #happy reading nonnie!!!!! <3 <3 #also i hope the read more works ahsjkaslkajdkasd

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ice-creamforbreakfast · 21 days ago

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My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to @surely-sims and @lostinsixam for tagging me 🥰

This was a bit of a wild year, so there were gaps in my simming activities, but I still got up to the usual chaos!

Tagging @obigem, @simmingnate, @eljeebee, @gilded-ghosts, @melbrewer367 and anyone else who wants to take part!

January

Starting off with Aria and Ryozo's wedding. It wasn't meant to happen, but every time I had plans to throw a spanner in the works, his little face stopped me. Of course Aria wore a pink, sequin jumpsuit.

When Elio met Allan. Aria, ever the social climber, invited Allan and his mum over to be neighbourly/nosey and Allan's first impression of Elio was less than enthusiastic. They later bonded over being scouts weirdos.

February

I started a BACC challenge and absolutely loved it, then my ADHD brain kicked in and I got very confused and it became too stressful to follow the rules 🤣 I may revisit it at some point.

As a direct result of my BACC confusion, I started playing my very old, and very loved Enekjaer rotational save in TS3. There's something lovely about time just standing still, even as the years hurtle past.

March

The Crumplebottoms celebrate Gaia's birthday. I love this save. There's no set story, only chaos.

The penny drops for Elio, who was oblivious in his scouting weirdness. I love his vacant little face.

April

The wig snatching motherplant makes itself known to Elio, and unknown to him, sets him on a path that will shape the rest of his life.

Not a screenshot as such, but one of the CC sets I'm most proud of. I was so honoured that my bestie @obigem trusted me to work with her on this collection and very happy with how it turned out.

May

I had jaw surgery and the drugs were good. I don't remember doing this, but I guess this is when I downloaded Re-Light.

My bebe Caleb in the TS3verse. He was one of the first sims I created (if not the first) when I got the TS4 CAS demo, so it felt right that he got to be in other versions of the game.

June

Elio fucked around and found out. Sure it all worked out in the end, but I did enjoy the mess.

Trashleen coming in hot with the good advice. "Let them chat shit behind your back. Rent is expensive." She's correct. Live rent-free in the heads of your enemies.

July

I spent way too much time building Evil Pappy's Glue factory for a few photos of Alan's post-school fate and subsequent rescue. It made sense in my head for an evil cowboy to have a glue factory.

August

Trashleen and Mitzipuff lead the pack when it comes to style, but they just had to jump on the 'demure and mindful' trend for this shot.

The Motherplant battle always gives amazing shots. Elio and his friends beat the Motherplant and managed to rescue Miguel.

September

I update my models subtly every so often, but this time, quite a few of them visited the CAS surgeon for some minor adjustments.

I love the entire Poppy Collection I made with @surely-sims, but this dress is my standout and I'm so pleased with what I was able to achieve with it! Izumi serves as an 80s goddess.

October

October brought us Life and Death, and of course the big face mountain deserved a Cabbagepatch photoshop edit!

And then we have three! Elio, Allan and Miguel sorted their drama and decided to try being a throuple...it just so happened that the game allowed it now.

November

I was inspired by Ravenwood, and decided to do a little elven edit. No storyline, only elves and fireflies.

November marked the return of the Smyths, and a huge change in Cabbagepatch's relationship with her arch enemy Figgyduff. The sisters joined forces to conquer the Clucking Cosa Nostra once and for all.

December

Cabbagepatch formally invites you to attend a beautiful Easter concert with some definitely Easter themed CC that will be released most generously and totally on time for the Easter season in which they are meant to be used.

@joliebean and I were on our Christmas bullshit again with our latest Christmas collab! Esther got added back into the model rotation for this Marilyn moment.

#what a long fecking year #but also a short year #top 24 screenshots from 2024 #ts3 #the sims 3 #ts4 #the sims 4

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thoushallnotfall · 8 months ago

Text

Walkin' After Midnight

Masterlist

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: *finger guns* Ehhhhh...so it’s been a minute. How ya’ll been? So completely ignoring that’s it’s been...a long time, here’s another of my ‘imagine the boys in a decade prior to the 80s’ fics--and we’re moving right along to the 50s!

I started this...a very long time ago, and then I didn’t like it so I just left it in my WIPs with like 15 other ideas/half-written fics/updates. I still don’t love it, but upon further reflection I don’t totally hate it--and it was already started so I didn’t have to work as hard to finish it, so there’s that.

That being said, I'm kind of interested in writing a part 2, so we'll see...taking babysteps here.

(I’m really having to dig deep for these gifs)

Every kid from Santa Carla grew up knowing two things: Don’t go out after dark if you ever want to make it home, and stay away from the greasers who hung around the boardwalk.

It never really occurred to you that those two things could be related.

Unlike a lot of the teenagers in Santa Carla, who’d run there with nowhere else to go, you’d lived there all your life. You’d never left the city, and the older you got the more you doubted you ever would. Your dad had been killed in Vietnam, and your mom was around so little you half expected one day she’d just stop coming back home at all. You may not be one of the runaways, but you were still alone in Santa Carla.

Still, you were young; and while you knew you’d have to find a way to live on your own sooner or later, you decided to try and enjoy what little youth you had left. One day you’d have to grow up and start providing for yourself somehow, but for now you just wanted to live your life to the fullest before that all got taken away.

With that in mind, you’d taken to going to plenty of the dances and social events in town. You didn’t have a curfew, and no one was around to care about where you were, but even so you tried not to be out too late after dark. That’s always when the people went missing--and they never came back.

That’s why it was the first rule of Santa Carla: Don’t go out after dark.

The official numbers were never right, given how many of the people who disappeared were runaways, but the amount of missing people in Santa Carla had always been unusually high. The only thing they knew for sure was that they always seemed to vanish at night.

The prevalent theory among many of the local teens was aliens. They came out with their flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting people in the night. Others were more practical--they just thought there was a really good serial killer in town.

It could be anyone! They’d say.

But people have always gone missing in Santa Carla--is he an old man, still killing people in his 70s? Someone else would question.

Okay, so a family of serial killers! They’d say back.

Personally, you had no idea who or what was making people disappear. You only cared about surviving it, and the best way to do that was stay in at night.

Then, there was the second rule of Santa Carla: Stay away from the greasers.

There was a particularly nasty group of punks who usually hung around the Boardwalk at night. No one knew who they were--probably just another group of runaways--but people had grown to know they were trouble. A gang of greasers who didn’t care about the law and would sooner gut a man than say hello. That’s what people said about them, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when you broke both rules in a single night.

The night in question started out well enough. You and a friend had gone to the beach in the afternoon, and spent most of the day there. At one point, the two of you had attracted the attention of some boys--who ended up spending the day with you.

So when the sun got low and it was time to leave, your friend decided to accept the invitation from the boys to go get some dinner at the local diner. You however, weren’t as excited about the prospect. Not only did you not want to be out too late, you frankly just weren’t that interested in any of them. Your friend tried to get you to change your mind, but you held firm.

And so it was that your friend headed off with the guys. At least she brought you into town so you wouldn’t have so far to walk to get home. And while you weren’t jazzed about walking home alone you figured you could make it back quick enough that it’d be okay. Unfortunately, it was nearly dark before you even made it back to town--and well into the night by the time you walked past the Boardwalk.

You tried to hurry your way through the crowded streets of tourists and late-night couples walking hand in hand without any trouble. But of course that's exactly what you find.

"Hey there pretty lady, going my way?" A big guy in a varsity sweater asks. He looked like a jock--maybe home from college? You didn't know him, and you certainly didn't want to.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." You say, hoping to sidestep him and continue on your way. He moves to stand in front of you.

"Aw, don't be like that doll." He says, looming over you. "I just want to get to know you."

"Well I'm not interested." You say, trying to push past him. He grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight it makes you wince in pain.

"Not so fast girlie--we ain't done talking yet." He says, pulling you back.

Oh God, this is it. He's a part of that serial killer family and you're about to get murdered.

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the creep let's you go. He screams as he looks to his other side. You follow his gaze and see a greaser with blonde, curly hair standing next to him--the jock's wrist in his hand. He squeezes it tighter and the jock falls to one knee, yelling in pain.

"Don't like it so much on the receiving end, do yah punk?" The boy says, squeezing even tighter. Despite being smaller than the other boy, the greaser was still clearly stronger.

"What the hell man? Let me go!" The jock begs.

"You want me to let you go?" The greaser smirks. "Alright." He lets the guy go, before quickly using his now free hand to punch him square in the face. The boy falls back, holding his bloody, broken face in his hands. The greaser grabs the bleeding boy by the collar and pulls him up, smiling at him. "Now beat it before I decide to get serious." He says, dropping his collar. The boy scrambles up and runs off, disappearing down an allyway.

You watch him run off, stunned by what had just happened.

"You okay?" The blonde asks, having turned his attention to you. You practically jump out of your shoes.

"What? Oh." You look down at your wrist. "Yeah, it's fine--I mean, um, I'm fine." You stumble through before looking back up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem. Punks like that deserve a good beating." He says, before he smirks. "And I couldn't let him hurt a pretty thing like you, now could I?"

Uh oh, you may have just gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"So what's your deal anyway? You know it's not safe walking around alone at night, right?" He asks, ignoring your apprehensive look.

"We'll um," You hesitated, unsure of how much you should say about yourself. "I was out with a friend, but she had other plans. She drove, so..."

"So now you're stuck walking back. I get you." He says. "Pretty uncool of your friend, ditching you like that. But hey, I'll make sure you get home safe."

"What?" You nearly shout. "Um, no really that's not necessary. I'm fine now, so--"

"No way. I already told you--you're way too cute to be out here on your own." He says, cutting off your attempt to protest. "My bike's nearby, let's go."

"I would really hate to put you out," you try once more to worm our way out of the situation, but he wasn't having it.

He smirks, "I offered didn't I? Don't worry about it." He grabs your hand and all but drags you down the block.

Soon enough, you arrive at a parking lot, and he leads you towards a row of four motorcycles lined up in the corner. He lets you go, moving to the bike at the end and throwing his leg over to sit. He looks at you, holding out his hand. You were pretty sure you couldn't get away from him even if you tried, so you took a deep breath and accepted his outstretched hand. He helps you onto the back of the bike, smirking as gravity slide you down towards him.

"So princess, were are we going?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at you sitting behind him. You hesitated giving him your address, but at this point if he wanted to do something nefarious he didn't need to take you home first.

You were in too deep now.

You tell him, and he nods, "Yeah, I know the place." He starts the bike, giving you one last smirk as he revves the engine, "Better hold on tight."

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as the bike shoots forward. You gripped him tightly, you head resting on his back. You squeezed your eyes shut, fear coursing through you as your heartbeat raced. As much as you knew you should watch where you were heading, you were too scared to open your eyes. He was going fast--very fast--and with each bump and turn, you were sure you would crash and that would be the end of it.

But the two of you didn't crash, and before you knew it the bike slowed to a stop. You dared to open an eye, and saw you sat in front of your house. A little run down and a bit worse for wear, but still yours. You sat up, shocked you had not only survived the ride, but that he had actually brought you home.

"This it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. You turned to him,

"Oh, um--yes, it is."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented absently, and you felt your shoulders tense.

"Oh, my parents are here--they just go to bed early," you lied. Something told you he knew you weren't telling him the truth, but he didn't say anything.

You hoped off the bike, smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt out of habit. You took a step towards your door, then stopped. You turned, looking back at the smirking, curly-haired boy sitting lazily on his bike.

"Thank you again. For bringing me home, and for helping me with that guy earlier, " you were still scared of him, but he had helped you. It would be bad manners not to at least thank him for his help.

He laughs, the moonlight catching his blue eyes as he stared back at you.

"Anytime, princess," he replies. He started his bike, glancing back up at you, "I'm Marko, by the way."

"Oh, I'm y/n." You had certainly not planned to tell him your name, but at this point could it really hurt?

"Well, I'll see you around, y/n," he says, his smile wide and mischievous. Before you could say anything more, he rode off down the quiet street, disappearing into the darkness.

#marko the lost boys #the lost boys #marko x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine

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maybetorbie · 1 month ago

Text

Reunion

No warnings, just Billy being his usual silly Billy self | Steve x Billy, harringrove | 1k+ words

Summary: ten years after graduation, Steve comes back to Hawkins after failed jobs here and there in the big city, meets Billy who works as a line cook at the local diner, after not seeing each other for almost a decade.

Just a small little ficlet I did to pass the time! Not beta read.

Hawkins, 1995.

Just in time for the 10-year Hawkins High reunion. And they're having it in the smack dab middle of December, because why the fuck not, right?

Billy gets an invite. After all, he's one of the graduates of the said school. 'I deserve a goddamn medal for almost dying for you motherfuckers at Starcourt, yet nobody outside of those little jackasses even know what we did to save this pathetic excuse of a town,' Billy thinks to himself.

But what he actually does in reality is kicking rocks and pebbles to the middle of the road, one hand inside his jacket pocket, the other holding a cigarette he's been nursing as he exhales the cold winter air, trying to stall his high school reunion's grand entrance as long as possible.

He sighs, running a hand through his curls in exasperation. "Why am I even here?" he said out loud...

"Billy?"

He stops kicking rocks. No fucking way.

"Harrington?" he turns to confirm his suspicion.

And he was right.

"Hey, Billy..." Steve, the guy he fought a shitload of demogorgons with almost ten years ago, is right in front of him. Looking older, but still just as scrumptious as how he looked a decade ago, or how Billy remembered it. He gives Billy a small smile, sitting on the sidewalk not too far behind where Billy torments the rocks. "Been a while,"

"Yeah," Billy scoffs, putting the cigarette in his mouth, stuffing both hands in his jacket pocket. "How's the big apple treating you, pretty boy?"

Steve gives him a small laugh at that nickname. "If I'm being honest? Not well,"

Billy raises an eyebrow, not joining the brunette in sitting quite yet. He appraises Steve's expression, as if trying to memorize new details of his face. 'well, those annoyingly well-placed moles are still on the left side of your stupid face,' he thinks. "Thought you'd be up there fucking shit up, getting paid 80 an hour to look at stock charts or some shit,"

Steve sighs, and if the look of his crumpled suit and tie is any indication, he's not lying. "I tried, man. After high school, my old man sent me up there, to try to make it big with his brother at that day trading company... It felt like I was living in hell all those 8 years,"

Billy decides to finally sit next to Steve on the sidewalk, both of them looking at the school building just across. "So, what... you're back here to do what... work at a CD store?"

Steve laughs. "I'm moving back here. Maybe forever. Guess I'm one of those guys that doesn't really make the cut,"

Billy scoffs. "Oh, you think you didn't make the cut? I work as a line cook at the diner, pretty boy. You think it's all glamorous down here?"

"I didn't mean that it's any better back here... I just thought that maybe... with familiar faces, it... it would help, y'know... trying to get back on my feet,"

"Told you to plant your fucking feet, didn't I?" Billy nudges his shoulder, nowhere near playful, yet nothing sort of malicious.

Steve just laughs. "I guess you did, and I didn't listen,"

"Upside Down's been quiet since you and that psychic kid left, pretty boy. If you think you could get a full time job hunting monsters here, you're shit out of luck,"

"You'll never know," Steve teases.

Billy rolls his eyes. "Shut up. Had enough of that shit to last a lifetime,"

"Think you could get me a job?" Steve asks.

The blond could only look surprised with an eyebrow raise to accompany it. "Big Apple Steve needs my help to look for jobs?"

"What's the name of it, the diner you work at?" Steve asks again.

"Ingrid's," Billy sees no point in lying anyway. What's the harm?

Steve looks aghast, if only subtly. "The place where that poor guy got his head axed in the '50s?"

"The one and only," Billy shrugs in confirmation. "Why'd you think it was easy for me to get a gig there?"

"Isn't the place going under?"

"Beats me," the blond shrugs again. "All I know is I clock in, cook shit, clock out, with a couple of smoke breaks inbetween, and I go home,"

Steve is pensive. "Okay,"

"Okay what," Billy creases his eyebrows, looking at the former king of Hawkins high stand up, dusting himself off the sidewalk dust.

Steve turns to him. "Are you coming in?" he gestures at the school, the ambience of people milling inside the auditorium with loud music barely audible.

Billy scoffs. "Think I'll pass. Got an early shift tomorrow morning,"

"You're already here," Steve offers.

Billy stands up without bothering to dust himself off. "Why? you wanna be seen with me or something?"

Steve doesn't answer. He lets Billy go.

Billy walks away, into the dimly lit road. What Billy fails to realize is that Steve watches him go the whole way, until his silhouette disappears down the road.

"Billy," Robin punches the order paper down, pressing on the bell just as hard. "Surf and turf to go," she demands from front of house, her coarse voice not changing much over the past decade.

Billy nods, though nobody sees that, as he's the only cook on shift right now, and his workload isn't something to scoff at. "Fine," He calls back out, letting his coworker know.

"Also, we got a team meeting in five minutes, boss says there's a big announcement or something, so go to the back," Robin adds again, before leaving to serve tables their drinks.

Billy doesn't think much of it. He lowers the grease trap, turning all the stoves off before wiping the excess oil off his hand and onto the apron dangling off his hips.

'What team meeting? There's only like, four people on shift,' he thinks to himself. Regardless, he makes his way to the back of the diner, cold air immediately greeting him, as well as the numerous stacks of garbage bags, in front of them sits five wooden crates turned sideways, an attempt at chairs. He takes his seat on one of the crates, Robin and two others soon joining in.

The boss walks out, looking less somber than he did the entire time he runs the place. "Okay, all of you are here. I got some news,"

"Can we hurry it up? Those jackasses outside are hungry, and it's fucking freezing here," Billy argues, cigarette hanging off his lips, threatening to fall.

Boss sighs. "I know. But, this is a good one. Ingrid's just got bought last night,"

Everybody exchanged glances. "Come again?" Robin asks. "Who the fuck bought this shithole?"

"Apparently some big city guy," Boss shrugs, hands behind his back, still unsure himself. "Granted, he got a good deal because of how much this place is a shithole, but yeah. From now on, I'm not your boss anymore. Aruba's callin' for me."

"So who is? The new owner?" Billy asks, brows furrowed.

"Uh, Ya can come on out now," Boss calls to the new owner.

Enter Steve... his eyes appraising everyone sitting on the crates, his gaze landing on Billy. "...Hey guys,"

Robin's face lights up, immediately rushing him into a hug, which he embraces. "You fucker! When you said you were coming back here last week, I didn't think--!"

Steve laughs. "Sorry I didn't say something sooner, I was still kind of unsure myself..."

Boss leaves them to it.

"So how'd you get the money to buy this shithole?" Robin asks, letting the other staff members back to work as they catch up.

Steve shrugs. "My old man feels bad for my corporate failures I guess, wrote me a check to 'start anew', didn't say I couldn't come back here, though,"

Billy stands up last. He doesn't say anything.

Steve watches his movements, letting Robin walk back inside. "Everything okay?"

Billy shrugs. "Congrats, pretty boy. You now own a dilapidated diner in the middle of nowhere. Talk about a wise business decision,"

Steve gives him a thin smile. "You can't talk to me like that. I'm your boss now,"

The blond scoffs. "Yeah? Gonna give me a pay cut for that?"

Steve doesn't humor him with a reply. He makes his way back inside the diner, but Billy swears, just before his pretty head is turned, he sees a hint of the brunette's lip corners twitching upwards in amusement.

Steve turns to Billy, instead saying, "...Get back to work,"

Billy hangs back behind the diner, gathering his thoughts in the cold. He rolls his eyes to no one's audience, determined that he's not gonna let King Steve boss him around so easily. Oh, no. He's gonna raise hell, and he's gonna make it his second day job to frustrate the guy to no end.

Maybe the guy will plant his fucking feet this time.

#harringrove #steve x billy #billy hargrove #stuff

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eddiemunson-reader-shame · 4 months ago

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Space Oddity, Part 2

“Fuck the rest of them. Fuck ‘em all. Fuck ‘em all, but us.”

Word Count: 4,509 words (gahdamn)

Tag List (please lmk if you want to be added!): @melodymunson , @ali-r3n , @amandahobblepot , @twihard28 , @hiimjulie

[Chapter One]

Author’s Note: Fuck me Freddy, at last I have completed fanfic. This chapter was so much fun to write, especially after watching Dinner in America and feeling so seen and validated about the weird, off putting girl and the badass boyfriend relationship.

Interesting fact about this chapter, I actually did have two friends who decided one day to randomly exclude me from their friend group. They wrote me two actual, dumb ass letters I pretended to read about how they thought I was weird and they didn’t want to be my friend. The first one they put in my locker and I pretended I didn’t get it. The second one they handed to me in PE where I proceeded to laugh at them, rip it up, then throw the pieces in the trash. People think that only happens in bad 80’s movies, but some high school girls can actually be that stupid and comic book villain mean.

*****

“Mike! Jesus Christ, don’t just throw her!”

You and Eddie were fumbling with the spilled contents of your trapper keeper, trying to collect each sheet of xerox and graph paper. Every so often, Eddie would accidentally bump your shoulder or accidentally knock into you, and when you both went in to pick up a caricature you’d done of Angus Young, his head hit your nose.

Hard.

“Augh! Sorry, buttercup!” He said, quickly reaching out with his hands, “You okay?”

“My nose hurts…” you mumbled.

“Come here, lemme see.”

His hands were on your cheeks, you were in too much pain to realize Eddie Munson was actually touching you.

“Owie… Yup, I can see where I bonked you.” He winced in sympathetic pain as his thumb brushed your injury, “But you’ll be alright, it’s not broken. Come on. Upsy daisy.”

Mike and Dustin were at each other’s throats. Dustin was reprimanding Mike for turning you into a human football, while Mike was defending his actions for making sure you “stopped acting like a tool”.

“Knock it off, assholes!” Eddie snapped.

Mike and Dustin immediately ceased their caterwauling, and looked like scolded chihuahuas, ducking away from Eddie who looked like he was going to throw a chair.

“God dammit, you’re giving me a headache.” He hissed, then turned to you.

All you could do was stand there, awkwardly digging the tip of your shoe into the carpet. Avoiding any and all eye contact.

“You look real familiar…” Eddie said, pointing a ringed finger at you, “I know you… Where do I know you from?”

“… I sit behind you in Mrs. O’Donnell’s Economics class.” You whispered.

Pure, unapologetic joy made his face bloom pink, a dimpled smile gracing his features as his dark brown eyes sparkled with stars. Eddie clapped his hands, jabbing a finger in your general direction and then pacing side to side with his arms crossed.

“I knew it! I do remember you! You’re the funny chick who drew Figment the Dragon on the chalkboard, and then did the T. Rex thing with your hands when The ’Donnell tried to erase it!”

Eddie tucked his arms to his chest and made a terrific mimic of your high pitched screech, causing his friends to laugh hard and their eyes to light up in recognition. Your eyes widened, and you wanted to immediately die. Naively you didn’t think anyone had remembered your stand against O’Donnell and her dislike for Disney related media. She told you this wasn’t Mr. Miller’s art class. Of course, you let her have it, and it almost cost you a detention — and permanent placement in Hawkins High School’s joke of a Special Education program — until your mother came down to the school with her attorney from Indianapolis and raised hell, both of them threatening Principal Higgins, Mrs. O’Donnell, and the school Superintendent with a discrimination lawsuit. Since then you’d done even more outrageous shit to make everyone forget and keep away the bullying, surely this one time would have been buried in the numerous instances of other out of pocket things you did?!

Nope. Evidently the Figment Incident was the talk of Hellfire Club, and your crush could replicate your noises to a T.

“Oh shit! You’re the Dragon Lady!” said a guy in a Black Sabbath raglan with blue sleeves.

“The Badass herself in the flesh!” interjected one with curly hair.

“You’re a goddamn legend, dude!” laughed one guy that was eating Doritos by the handful, “We even made you into a character in one of our campaigns! She’s a wizard with a purple dragon — of course we named it Figment — and they communicate in Draconic Tongue to one another!”

“Like this!”

Eddie screeched again, and the guys burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help but cover your face with your trapper keeper. If there was a God, you wanted him to burst out of the sky in a puff of smoke and smite you and everyone else in the room with lightning bolts.

“After that time, you didn’t ever get out of your desk chair again.” Eddie said, crossing his arms after he stopped laughing, “Always sitting in back, keeping to yourself. I don’t think I’ve even heard you say more than three words to anyone all semester.”

Stepping lightly, Eddie began to circle you. Looking you up and down, cocking his head to the side and doing a little bit of an arrogant head waggle.

“Didn’t peg you for a D&D nerd, buttercup.” He said, his voice gaining a sudden confidence as he stepped to you, “By the look of this dandelion yellow sweater, I would have guessed you’d be more the Seventeen Magazine and like, naked slumber party pillow fights with fellow screamers kind of girl.”

You shook your head. You stopped buying Seventeen Magazine when your attempts to apply their makeup lessons to your everyday routine made you look like a KISS reject. And you’d never even had enough friends for a slumber party.

“You like to draw, huh?” He asked.

He was fishing for a reaction. Trying to make you talk.

You nodded.

“What else?”

“… I like to read…”

His head tilted to the side.

“Yeah? What do you like to read? You ever read anything by Rose Estes or Fritz Leiber?”

“Are you two gonna stand there flirting all night, or are we gonna roll some dice?” Cried out one of the boys, the one with the curly hair.

“Yeah man, does the lady even have a character?”

“Oh she’s got a goddamn character!” Mike interjected confidently while Dustin nodded.

“The best character, a tanky character, real hardcore shit.” Dustin said.

Eddie chuckled darkly, looking at you with a menacing grin as he got in your face.

“What’s your character, buttercup? Level one human fighter?” He teased.

“A cleric…” you whispered.

Eyebrows raised. He looked up, thought for a moment, pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Okay. Yeah… yeah I can see that.” He nodded, looking you over, “A little tough tootsie badass, but you’ve got a soft spot as a healer for a holy order. I can dig it.”

Rapid fire, he then began tossing a million questions your way, so fast and in a run on you had to stop to listen to keep up.

“You didn’t tell me your race though. What is it? Hengeyokai? Gnome? Half-orc? What domain did you choose? Life? Arcana? How about your weapon, did you pick a claymore?” With each question, his sneer grew.

Mike and Dustin looked on fearfully, worried that you could not answer him. They knew Eddie was sizing you up, setting a trap with his trick questions. The claymore was a clever way for him to catch you on your bullshit, to see if you were even paying attention.

Suddenly, as if possessed by a cambion, you began to unload on him in a trance-like monotone. Pulling out a character study where you’d spent all last period drawing the same Siouxsie Sioux-esque vamp beauty of a character that made up your D&D creation, you waved the character sheet in his face while you began monologuing.

“Um no… so, Shadowmoon is a level ten half-elf cleric of Shar — I picked Trickery domain for her — and she’s like cursed by the Lady of Sorrows so her morals are like, super flexible and kinda fucked up. And she’s got like, a Sharran morningstar because I know that clerics in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons can’t have any other weapons besides a morningstar and it’s really useful for her, and I wanted to make her a healer for the party because Dustin said everyone else mainly tanks but no one wants to play support, and I think a cleric could be useful because then maybe she could help be the face of the group — do you already have a group face? Shadowmoon would make a good face because she’s gothic and really pretty. And then like, Shadowmoon would be good at lying because she could like… cast Guidance to help with her high charisma modifier-…”

“How did you end up choosing Trickery?” Eddie interrupted, snatching your character sheet from your hands.

You paused, thought it over carefully, then tried again.

“Uh… Shadowmoon was already part of my story I’m writing, so, I thought Trickery fit her personality best because she’s like, pretending to be this honest healer to everyone when really she’s on a mission to deliver an artifact to her temple on a mission from her dark goddess. She’s um… she’s a Chaotic Neutral so like, she could get along with everyone and either murderhobo her way through encounters or maybe she can change into good halfway...”

You trailed off when you noticed that Eddie hadn’t really reacted at all to your lore dump. He wasn’t really paying much attention to you at all. Nose pressed to the paper, he was engrossed in your character sheet.

Immediately you panicked, thinking Dustin and Mike had been bullshitting and lying to you about Eddie liking girls who knew what they were talking about when it came to Dungeons & Dragons. He almost had that look on his face: the one you dreaded where the eyes would glass over, and you could tell someone wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. As if they were bored of your rambling. Bored of you. It was the look that made you want to scream and cry, and lash out.

But to your surprise, Eddie handed you back your character sheet, and smiled.

“Not only do you have your backstory mapped out, but you’re making connections to your own story setting… You’re a full on closet nerd, aren’t you, buttercup?” He said.

“… I like fantasy and sci-fi.” You muttered.

Pause, and then he laughed.

“The cyberman fighting the chimera you drew in the corner near the Special Abilities area kind of tipped me off to that.” He smiled, pointing to the drawing on your sheet.

Quickly you snatched Shadowmoon’s sheet back. Tucking it into your body, you shrunk in on yourself and avoided looking at Eddie.

“So you wanna join Hellfire, yeah?” He asked, once again crossing his arms and pacing around you.

“You think you can handle sitting with the freaks at lunch? Take a couple hits to your social life? Maybe even take a few blows…?”

You nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to join! Your heart was pounding, and your mouth started to salivate. He’d even offered to let you sit at the lunch table with him and his friends!

“You certainly seem like you’re okay with it, but let me ask this…”

Eddie got right into your face. So close, you could smell the lingering notes of Old Spice deodorant and Sea Breeze. Hell, you could even see the areas of his chin that were lightly spotted with acne and the blue of his incoming beard. His breath was warm on your face. Steaming even. A waft of sweet tobacco hit your nostrils.

“What makes you think a mousy little buttercup like you would even fit in with a group of degenerates like us?” He asked, voice so low you had to lean in to hear him better.

“We’re not the chess club, and we’re not the Doctor Who club. This is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. We’re the freaks, the underdogs of Hawkins High. The losers with too much time and imagination on our hands to do shit else.”

You gulped. He was pressing almost nose to nose with you. Staring you down and following your gaze when you looked at the floor.

“We are the weirdos your momma warned you about, little miss. You think you can handle us?” He murmured.

“… ‘malreadyweird…” you mumbled.

Immediately he pulled back, blinking.

“Huh?”

“I said: I’m already a weirdo.”

The rest was automatic. Shoulders up, arms and trapper keeper tucked further to your chest as you turned away from Eddie, insecurity creeping up into your heart as you grimaced.

“I’m the weirdo bitch who doesn’t have any friends, and who according to Shelley Warab in first period is ‘a fucking lunatic who is always drawing attention to herself’.” You said.

Eddie had looked confused, until the weight of your words sunk in.

“Drawing attention to yourse—… oh, hell no…”

“Drawing” attention to yourself, that was Shelley Warab’s attempt at a double entendre. But it was the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, you hid your drawings after the Figment Incident, and only drew during lecture on your own paper, when no one would talk to or look at you.

“And because Shelley Warab thinks you’re “drawing” attention to yourself, the other girls pick on you too, don’t they?” Eddie asked softly.

Your silence was all the confirmation he needed.

A large hand engulfed your shoulder. Shaking, with righteous fury. You looked up at him.

Eddie looked ready to burn down the school.

“They’re jealous. You know that right? Those jealous bitches are lost souls.” He hissed, “All they know how to do is steal daddy’s money to pay for acid, because they can’t come up with one goddamn original thought while sober. You can conjure up these elaborate, creative pieces like magic, and they hate it. Your talent makes them feel inadequate, so they try to drag you through the horseshit to make you stop. Don’t listen to them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You looked down shamefully, the Bitch of Hawkins High had her walls ripped down at last.

“Come on Eddie… look at her.” Dustin said softly, “You told us to look for the little lost sheep who didn’t fit in.”

All of your classmates said you were worse than the freaks. To them you were a mean girl. A bitch. The weird asshole who screamed at people and didn’t let boys like Tommy Hagan or Billy Hargrove come within five feet of your person before you started throwing sharp things at them.

“You’re damn right, Henderson.” Eddie responded, his voice just as soft as the fluff on a kitten.

“She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for: a shivering, lost little lamb… with no flock of her own to follow.”

His grip loosened, and he began to gently massage your shoulder.

“What say you, buttercup?” He asked, voice sweet and smooth as mulled honey wine, “You wanna be my little sheep?”

…

It had taken four years.

Four long, arduous, horrible years… Four years of screaming meltdowns. Uncontrollable rage bubbling up in your throat at the frustration of being excluded. At the lack of understanding. Nobody ever invited you to anything. No parties. No sleepovers. Not even to go to the bathroom together in solidarity.

Four lonely, long, miserable years… and someone had finally invited you to their group, saying you could belong…

The tears spilled out of your eyes in microseconds.

“Hey, hey! Sweetheart, don’t cry…”

Calloused ringed fingers were immediately wiping tears from your soft cheeks, patting you softly to calm you down. Eddie’s expressive, dark cognac colored eyes looked almost watery — like he was going to cry too — his brows furrowing into a frown as his facade of an intimidating freak immediately dropped.

“No…! None of that, sugarplum. You’re alright. There’s no crying in Hellfire Club, okay? You belong here, don’t cry…”

“R… really?”

His dimpled smile was so genuine, it made you ache.

“Really. You’re one of the black sheep now, buttercup. Welcome to Hellfire.”

The leather of his Schott jacket squeaked as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, free hand rubbing your deltoid as you instinctively pressed closer to him. You would have never guessed, but Eddie was particularly touchy. It was as if he wanted to be close to you at all times. Even if you pulled away a little bit to readjust, his hand came right back to the same position.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the weirdos.” He said, leading you towards the others.

You rode the high of the night. You made new friends in Jeff, Frank, and Gareth, as they were chomping at the bit to get to know the infamous “Dragon Lady” who had doodled a near perfect copy of an obscure Disney character. Frank was in the middle of asking you to design a tattoo for him of Maleficent in her draconic form when Eddie called the session to order.

“So we’re going right into our main campaign for tonight, and I’ll give everyone an opportunity to introduce themselves to our new party cleric…” he looked at you and held out a hand from behind his DM screen.

“Shadowmoon.” You corrected him.

“Ah yes, the ever so cunning and duplicitous Shadowmoon; our very own half-elf Cleric of Shar, the shadowy seductress that is Our Lady of Loss.” His voice took on a low, deadly tone, as if evoking the name of Shadowmoon’s goddess would provoke divine wrath, “Hope you and Shadowmoon can handle a few good curveballs tonight, might be overwhelming… but any girl who can pick Lady Shar as a patron can handle my brand of freak.”

“I’ll work hard.” You nodded.

“Good girl.”

The campaign’s overall atmosphere was a success. You asked genuine questions, feeling comfortable when you noticed Dustin was right. No one had all the answers. The boys still looked at their character sheets and flipped through the handbook if they needed to look up an effect (even Eddie did it a few times when a player question gave him pause).

You got to name the party. Gareth had drawn a rather regal coat of arms for your ragtag group, and because he’d added the silhouette of a game bird that Frank argued looked like a chicken, you began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, his serious facade slipping when he saw you smile and show teeth.

“We… it… with that chicken on our coat of arms… We’re the Band of the Cock!” You shrieked.

Immediately there was a cacophony of screams, chaos, laughter, and a few d4’s launched at your spinning, grinning head as you laughed into your hands. Playing with the boys, belonging to a group… it was all so fun!

Eddie laughed at your jokes, even when they fell a little flat. With the group’s combined social awkwardness and typical behaviors, your own tics didn’t even phase them. If you popped your mouth in a certain way, it would set off the person next to you until everyone was doing it. The guys helped you with math if you fucked up adding modifiers, but they did it in a way that didn’t make you feel stupid. Even Eddie helped you look up spell effects if you didn’t know offhand.

Hellfire Club was fucking fun.

And you were having a blast showing off and earning the affection of Eddie the Freak.

You were sorry when the two hours were up, and everyone was packing their things up and heading home for the night.

“Do you need help cleaning up…?” You asked.

Eddie looked up from rolling up his butcher paper map.

“Hmm? Nah, I got it.” He said, shaking his head as he continued, “You did good tonight, you know. Your timing was perfect, you did well managing your spell slots for Healing Word, and you even took Cornell Notes for our party. None of my little misfits even writes down their damn inventory, let alone takes Cornell Notes for the party.”

You shrugged, chewing on a hangnail.

“I just wanted to be of help… to really try.” You said.

“You didn’t just try, you killed it out there! Now I know I can rely on you to mother hen this gang of muppets that makes up our party.”

There was comfortable silence between the two of you. Even though it was late, you were willing to walk home in the dark if it meant you could just be around Eddie for a little while longer.

But something had been nagging the back of your mind… Ever since you had found out that Eddie Munson was DMing this campaign, the memories of the inception of your middle school crush on him had come back in full force.

“Um… Eddie?” You ventured.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He looked up.

“Um… do you… in middle school… do you remember finding a note in your locker…?” You asked softly.

“… I do, yeah.” He said cautiously, “Why do you ask…?”

“Do you… do you remember the poem in it?”

He stopped what he was doing, looked up at you with wide, dark eyes.

“It um… it was about light and stuff, and uh… it didn’t have a name signed on it, but there was a picture on the bottom of a fairy holding a lantern…”

“How the hell do you know about that!?” He asked.

He began to approach you, his chest heaving.

“I never even told anyone about that poem-… Did… did you write that note? Is that how you know about it?” He demanded.

“… yes…” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you sign it?!” He asked.

His face was contorted. A desperate look. As if he was going to cry.

“… because I was scared…” you said.

“Scared of what? Of me?!”

“No…”

Never. You could never be scared of Eddie. He was amazing. He was the definition of cool. You desired him biblically.

“No… I was scared that… that you wouldn’t like me…” you said softly, “I loved your performance at the talent show so much… and I wanted to talk to you after, but then you got sent to Mr. Coleman’s office for playing Exciter. So I wrote the poem for you, and… I didn’t ever find out if you liked it because I was too shy to ask if you’d read it. Then you went on to high school, and I didn’t see you anymore.”

There was silence. Backing away from you, he wiped his mouth, exhaling a deep sigh.

“I can’t believe it…” he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his shaggy hair, “I thought about that poem for years… First I thought it was someone playing a prank, but it wasn’t mean. It was so… it was earnest, and heartfelt… and you didn’t even sign it.”

He looked back at you.

“How could you think I wouldn’t like you after you wrote something like that for me?” Eddie asked.

“You always stared at every other girl but me.” You said, “And then I heard a rumor you almost left for California with this punk rocker chick during senior year, and I thought… Well, I knew I didn’t stand a chance because I’m not stylish. And when I heard you got held back, and that you’d be in my year, I wanted to talk to you. But… freshman year I tried making friends, and because I fucked that up, all the rumors started and everyone called me a creepy, angry bitch...”

It all in the end came back to Shelley Warab. She had been the first person you’d tried to make friends with. Moderate popularity, middle class, dirty blonde hair, she should have dominated in the halls as the queen bee. But the cheerleaders hated her because she always tried to hang off the arm of the nearest quarterback or point guard, and the cheerleaders happened to already be dating said sportsmen when Shelley tried to get in their pants. Her locker was often decorated with the word “WHORE” written in red Maybelline lipstick.

So Shelley decided to form her own clique if no others would accept her. That included you: a bright eyed freshman from the middle school that everyone overlooked because you never talked to anyone, along with several other girls of varying degrees of loneliness. She ruled over all of you with an iron fist. Trying to mold you all into her own idea of a clique that would make mean girls like Carol Perkins (the main culprit of the Maybelline insults) kowtow to her self-made band of bitches.

One day at lunch forever changed your fate. Shelley decided to go through each girl’s knapsack and dump out the contents on the lunch table, judging her subjects on the personal effects they kept within. A particularly timid friend was being dressed down for balled up gym socks, and you stood up and asked how Shelley would like it if you took her Avon tote bag over to the garbage, tipped it upside down, and dumped every single bit of its contents into the slop created from a mixture of coleslaw and uneaten sloppy joes.

Justice was swift. Carol Perkins overheard your threat and laughed at Shelley for “getting gutted by a freak”. Shelley told you to leave, and the next day at lunch had the audacity to present an honest to god manifesto written in purple pen about how no one at the table wanted you to sit with them anymore, complete with signatures. Carol had of course laughed at you next for this rejection, so you lunged at her and screeched like a pteranodon in her face, ripping up the letter like confetti and dumping it all over Carol and Shelley’s watery cafeteria spaghetti, before turning over their trays in their laps.

It was a chain reaction of outbursts afterwards. Then the Figment Incident happened, making you untouchable, because the students knew your mother wielded her attorney like a sword. Even bullies like Billy Hargrove who didn’t care about any authority figure or law enforcement officer avoided you like the plague because you weren’t afraid to threaten to use your pencil to blind them.

Your rage kept everyone away. The one armor you possessed.

“You think I give a shit about rumors?!”

Eddie once again had you by the shoulders, his grip tight as he almost shook you with rage. His eyes burned with hurt, betrayal…

And… desire?

“Those rumors… that’s all just fucking bullshit!” He snapped, “You’re not a creepy bitch. You’re funny, you’re exciting, and you make all these adorable noises-…”

“… I am angry and bitchy all the time though…”

“Okay maybe a little, but I am too.” Eddie conceded, “But that’s because everything and everyone in this town sucks. But you don’t suck. You’re smart, and sweet, and kind… and… damn it… you’re beautiful.”

He was so close… So indignant, his righteous fury lighting a spark in his eyes that made you lean into him.

“All of that hellfire in you, that anger… god, it makes you a bonafide badass.” Eddie said, pulling you in close to his chest and rocking you side to side.

When you felt his fervent kisses pepper your scalp, you began to cry again. He pulled you in tighter, his kisses trailing down to your forehead, thence to cheeks, thence to capture your lips in a fiery, passionate make out session where he bit your lower lip to slip the tongue. You both pulled away breathless, and he kissed you one more time before pointing a finger right in your face.

“You’re the most metal fucking girl in all of Hawkins High. And anyone who says differently is a goddamn moron.”

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 3 months ago

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Hiya! It's me, dude!

Seeing as we finished our moth one, I have to keep you busy. So, I have a new au for you!

This one is based on The Last Unicorn. I'm not sure if you've seen the movie, but you should definitely watch it. It was made in the 80s, so it's a tad old. But it's a gooden. I've changed the story a little bit.

I'm going to try and keep it short, but you know me.

Adam is the last unicorn, basically just living his life. Every other unicorn have been killed for their power.

Alastor is the big bad in this. He's the Red King and has been using the unicorns for their power. He's basically immortal at this point.

Lucifer is a knight in this. His story is that he's the real king and is trying to kill Alastor. So there's a bit of a selfish reason behind him helping Adam.

Lucifer knew there was only one unicorn left, and if he could capture it, he could use its power against Alastor.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, he finds the unicorn, but as it's being attacked by the Red Deer, a minion of Alastor.

Lucifer decides to turn the unicorn human to stop the deer from being able to find it. That's where he meets and names Adam.

Adam hates Lucifer at first, recognizing that he's only wanting to use him, like every other human. Lucifer tried to convince him otherwise, but it didn't work out very well. Eventually, Lucifer finds himself falling for Adam. He doesn't know if he wants his king title back or to just run away with Adam.

Adam doesn't enjoy being human. Everything is so different. He doesn't trust anyone, especially anyone who could work for Alastor. It takes him a while to trust Lucifer, but he eventually gets convinced that he helped him to keep him safe. But in the back of his mind, Adam knew the real reason.

Lucifer falls first Adam falls a lot later.

Of course, there has to be some angst. Alastor eventually works out that Adam is human, and he actually manages to kidnap Adam.

And I'll leave it there. It's basically dark fantasy- but it's not too dark! I promise!

Ima right a little bit- feel free to join if this interests you 😫😫

---

Lucifer trudges through a thick forest. The trees are suffocating. Everything made Lucifer feel uneasy, like he's being watched. But he needs to be here. He needed to find it.

The forest was so quiet, but Lucifer could sometimes hear the snapping and crushing of dead wood. The sound was all around him, sometimes far away, sometimes close.

Looking up, he could barely see the sunlight, but small beams were able to penetrate the trees, illuminating the way in front of him.

He heard the breaking of branches and trees again. This time, he could also hear the heavy falls of hooves.

He managed to duck behind a fallen log when, in the distance, he finally saw what he had been looking for; a white unicorn. It was beautiful. It's furr glistening and looked so unbelievably soft. Lucifer could see its golden eyes from here.

Lucifer was brought out his trance as his vision was assaulted by a giant, red flaming deer. Its huge antlers smashed through ancient trees, its hooves crushed vegetation, and killed small animals that were too slow to get out of the way.

He recognized the creature instantly, a minion of the Red King Alastor. The bastard manipulated his father, lying about Lucifer. His father made Alastor King.

He needed that unicorn before the Deer got it.

He sprinted off after them. Lucifer didn't have a plan, but he knew he had to do something to the Red Deer. That fucker was going to make Lucifers plan difficult.

Finally, Lucifer made it to a large clearing. But in front of him was a large, jagged cliff. The fall would kill anything, even a unicorn. That's when he saw the deer and unicorn running straight towards the cliff.

While running, he had an idea on how to save the unicorn. He just needed to get a little closer.

As he ram towards them, he could feel the head from the deer. Is wasn't warmth from a fire bit more the air around him reacting to the beast. It's skin looked sick and acidic.

Lucifer yelled some ancient words towards the unicorn. His mother was well versed in magic, so he picked up the arts easily.

With a flash of light, Lucifer saw the unicorn disappear, and the red deer ran off the cliff. But it didn't fall. Instead, it took off to the sky, soon turning to a thick smoke before disbursing.

Lucifer looked from the sky to where the unicorn was. The light is now gone, and left behind is quite surprising to Lucifer. A brown haired man lay in the grass.

Lucifer ran towards him, the clanking of his armor woke the man up.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he saw how beautiful the man is. He looked perfect in every way. The only thing that wasn't human about him was the four pointed, golden star on his forehead, where his horn was.

Lucifer unclipped his white cape and quickly covered the man, he didn't look completely aware yet.

But what took Lucifers' breath away was his stunning, golden eyes, that captured the sunlight.

---

Hope that set the scene and made it more interesting for you 😫

Okay- bye!

I haven't seen the movie but man!! Hit me with this! I love Al being the bad guy so much hehe. Bare with me because I will go off script lol 😆

Adam could feel the soft grass against his cheek, when did he lay down? He was running away only moments ago and now it was as if he collapsed. But he didn't remember falling.

He felt something get draped over him, so he opened his eyes to see a human man looking at him with equal parts wonder and concern. It had been so long since a human had been this close it freaked him out. He jumped and tried to back away, they killed all his friends and family!

Luicfer: Hey, woah woah woah, it's okay I'm not going to hurt you.

Adam: Says you.

Did that come out of his mouth? Since when could he speak English?

Lucifer grinned, oh good he would be able to talk to him that would make things so much easier. He helped him up into his wobbly two legs.

Two!?

Adam looked down and..... He was human!? What the fuck was this sorcery??

Adam: What did you do to me!?

Lucifer: I saved your life from that deer thing! It was chasing you and..... Well unicorns do exactly fly.

That was Pegasus, another one Alastor was hunting but because they could fly they were a little harder to get.

Adam glared: I know that! Fuck....

He never thought a unicorn would have such colorful language.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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mybeautifulwifegojo · 3 months ago

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fuck it, vampire au where Satoru was the brightest star of Japan's monster-hunting society and then he got turned by some rando and in a fit of rage killed him and nearly 200 civilians. For this unspeakable act Gojo Satoru was bound and gagged and sealed in a cave behind a waterfall that used to be a holy site.

400 years later, Sasaki and Iguchi have a semi-popular YouTube series about scary places in Japan, and Yuji is their Resident Skeptic who really does want to support his friends, but like. ain't no way there's ACTUALLY a demon sealed in that old cave that's been cordoned off since the 80s. no fucking way. but the three of them go in, Yuji taking point as usual, and find that the cave is.... way deeper than reported.

weird.

there's whispering in the dark, and strange scuttling noises, but nothing they can see. and nothing comes at them. there aren't even any spiders or bats in here--like animals won't come here.

...even weirder.

and then. just as Yuji is about to suggest turning back. the flashlight beam lands on a body that's been strung up, bound, sealed, and ritually drained of blood.

the body's eyes are open, and he's furious.

so anyway after Sasaki and Iguchi stop screaming, Yuji unties the guy because clearly something illegal happened here and holy shit the guy is so cold but he's still moving and breathing and talking??? it's a weird, old fashioned dialect but Yuji understands enough to convince the man to come with them to the hospital. the man seems weirdly fixated on Yuji, asking his name and who his parents are and if he's a "sorcerer", but really he has so many wounds and they're all dry and crusty and smell like rot and Yuji just really wants to make sure he's not dying.

as soon as they exit the cave, there's like five sorcerers already there ready to fight Satoru. he's weakened, now, surely they can kill him.

except Yuji is hurt trying to stop the violence, and Satoru gets a whiff of his blood, and knows.

"Heir of Sukuna, please forgive me for this."

Three drops of Yuji's blood is all Satoru needs to subdue the enemy.

Fast-forward three years, 18yo Yuji moves to Tokyo and gets a job in the kitchen of a incredibly fancy bathhouse (mostly for sorcerers and hunters but also a genuine business), because he brought kikufuku and hotpot he made at home for the interviewer and staff to try. Nobara, charged with showing him the ropes, asks how long he's been cooking; he tells her most of his teen years, but the kikufuku is because his wife has a sweet tooth and begs him to make it a lot.

"Wife?? Aren't you only eighteen??"

"Oh--yeah, we're not actually married yet. He just likes being called my wife, and I like being his husband. It makes it easier to wait for the law to change. Plus it's fun to introduce him as my wife because homophobes don't know what to do about a tall, buff dude enjoying being a housewife."

Nobara meets Yuji's wife that night. He is very tall and buff, and also clearly adores Yuji in a way that makes the fact that he's the legendary vampire Gojo Satoru slightly less horrifying. Like, it's very hard to imagine the man currently whining about not having a 'proper' garden anymore here in the city as covered in blood and viscera. Especially since he keeps swinging his and Yuji's clasped hands like a restless child and dropping absent kisses on Yuji's head, and Yuji is obviously so pleased by all these little displays of affection. It is sickening how cute these two are.

.......Nobara decides not to report Satoru's presence to the council yet. She has a very hard time believing this puppy-dog of a man is dangerous to humans.

(she's right. Satoru is utterly uninterested in hurting people, now that he's calmed down and learned that he only needs a few ounces of Yuji's blood once a month to stay alive. It does piss him off that monsters and other creatures of the night keep trying to seduce Yuji into following Sukuna's footsteps and becoming the prophesied Demon King who will destroy all of humanity. Who will make Satoru kikufuku if Yuji goes bad??? AND WHY DO ALL THESE OTHER VAMPIRES KEEP TRYING TO DRINK HIS HUSBAND'S BLOOD??????)

((Yuji just thinks it's funny that they keep trying, because Satoru is clearly the reason dead vampires keep turning up with "homewrecker" carved into their foreheads. when will they get the message that Yuji's a one-wife man?))

#yes this is heavily inspired by ''Reincarnated In The World Of Demon King Evelogia'' I just love how stupid those two are for each other #GoYuu #jujutsu kaisen

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liquidorcard · 3 months ago

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Lily's Harley Quinn Show video is Garbage (and here's why)

We all know Lily's media hottakes are BAD. But, I feel like critics have mostly focused on her hottakes on media she hates. I've personally become more interested in what media she actually LIKES . . . Because her rational is often times even more nuts.

Well, this video made me mad enough that I'm gunna write a post about it now. Prepare your assholes for the death rattle of this DC fanboy losing his shit:

youtube

To be clear, I like this show, for some of the same reasons Lily does even. . . But that's not going to stop me from taking the piss.

(I encourage you all to watch the video in full beforehand so you can get the context of the quotes I'm pulling. Timestamps will be included though.

I just told people to watch your stupid video Lily-- can't cry copyright here.)

-0:19: TWENTY SECONDS IN, STEVEN UNIVERSE IS REFERENCED. GG LILLIAN.

-0:36: BITCHING ABOUT HOW VICTIMIZED SHE IS. 30 SECONDS IN.

-0:55: "I dare say it's the best thing to come out of the Batman franchise in a long time."

It seems like the last thing Lily watched/played/read in "the Batman franchise" was The Dark Knight. You dare boldly, Lily. Ironically I feel like she would at least like the Lego Batman movie, if not all the other good shit that's come out since 2011. Also, this is one of the first of many times she calls the entire fucking DC Universe "The Batman Franchise."

-1:00: "If you're watching this show for at all you're watching it for the romantic arc between Harley and Ivy. Don't lie."

I know this is a joke. I'm not an idiot, but. If you're familiar with Lily's general media consumption, you'll be well aware she watches shit a lot of the time for the ships and the ships ALONE. I feel like this really highlights how she views media in general in a way that's rather revealing. This video is two years old, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lily's opinion has soured a bit given the direction the show goes after this video was released. Put a pin in this comment. 📌

-1:15: "I mean it's a post-joker Harley Quinn show what else are they going to do.

Put a pin in that comment.📌

-2:00: Lily goes on to summarize the plot of the show . . . Completely ignoring all the plot beats that have nothing to do with the romance.

Put a pin in that one too.📌

-3:30: Lily indicates she identifies with Ivy.

Another pin.📌

-4:10: Lily starts talking about how near the end of the second season, Harley has now confessed her feelings to Ivy, but Ivy turns her down because she's going to get married to Kite Man (enjoy the insanity of that sentence if you haven't seen the show.)

Though I don't think she's nessesarily making any real poor points here yet, I want to point out that she really flattens the complexity of the emotions going on here. The problem is that Ivy and Harley's relationship has reached a level of intimacy where they really can't just go back to being friends. Ivy is happily in a relationship with Kite Man at this point, he's been a much more stable and reliable partner to Ivy. Though it's implied her feelings for Harley go a lot deeper. During Joker's confrontation of Harley, Lily frames it as a "go get 'er" pep talk like it's a fucking 80s rom com. He's trying more to get Harley to emotionally resolve things with her-- regardless of outcome. Ivy did say no once already. The audience expects she isn't going to say no a second time since that wouldn't be a narratively satisfying conclusion, but in the real world equivalent, she could have. The Joker wasn't telling Harley to harass Ivy until she gives in.

-5:16: Not really a mark against Lily's video persay, but in a season that aired after Lily made this video the prospect of Harley and Ivy breaking up is explored. Lily must have been seething, lol.

-5:28: "I love a good fluffy romance. I'm so fucking done with people's obsession with the nasty stuff [Flashes Catra and Adora on screen.]"

Honestly this comment has me wondering if Lily decided to check her phone or just skip through scenes where Harley and Ivy weren't being lovey-dovey. I don't know what fucking show she apparently watched (foreshadowing is a narrative tool wh--.)

-5:48: "Poison Ivy has always had the same problem a lot of female characters in DC comics have had in despite being an actual doctor they always just put her in a skin tight leotard [ . . . ] About the only notable exception to that was in The Batman [the 2005 show] where she was a teenager [classical Lily goonery inserted here.]"

Ignoring the goon comment, in isolation I don't have a grievance with this comment persay. As a generalization, it's more or less true about Ivy. She's unfortunately one of the lesser well-used characters in the various DC canons as a whole. However, Lily is going to start implying she's more familiar with DC in general, especially the comics, than she really is. I have strong reason to doubt Lily would know Ivy canonically has a doctorate in botanical sciences if this show didn't call so much attention to it. You'll see why in a moment.

Also the 2005 Batman show is far from the only iteration to reimagine Ivy as a teen. I like that show's take on Ivy too, but that's not a fucking unique spin on the character.

-6:57: "Clayface was always a random D-list monster like Carnage, but here he's reimagined as a struggling actor."

In a show that had the balls to feature Queen of Fables, she's calling Clayface a fucking "d-lister." Nevermind Carnage. But no Lily, Clayface has been a struggling actor since his first appearance in Detective Comics No.40. It's literally the first thing in his bio on his fucking wiki page.

-7:09: "There's one episode where [Clayface] assumes the identity of Stephanie to get into Riddler's college [ . . . ] Seriously I'm convinced he's been moonlighting as Stephanie a lot. The other girls on campus call her 'Steph.' She's been there for a while. This is Clayface's secret identity and you can't convince me otherwise."

LILY THAT'S NOT SUBTEXT THAT'S THE FUCKING JOKE. IT'S TEXT. IT'S CANON. YES. CLAYFACE HAS BEEN FUCKING AROUND ON RIDDLER'S CAMPUS THIS WHOLE TIME. CONFIRMED IN THE SHOW. LILY. LILLLYYYYYY.

Worth pointing out too, she'd totally call Clayface's Stephanie character transphobic if she hated the show.

-9:00: "The writers though 'okay, what do we use to fill our quota of the sad misguided villian this arc-- oh I know fucking BATMAN!'"

Lily what the fuck are you doing when you sit down to watch a show for your channel? Are you playing Candycrush the whole time? Are you screaming at Mikaila that often you miss like . . . Almost everything!? What are you doin' sweaty!?

Lilian, Bruce is not the primary antagonist of the 3rd season . . . IVY IS. Or really, Harley and Ivy's emotional dysfunction is the antagonist of basically this whole series, and it's Ivy's turn to be the main driver of conflict. The person destroying Gotham is Ivy. Not Batman, IVY.

Bruce and Selina's relationship is supposed to be a conceptual foil to Harley and Ivy's. Bruce is having an emotional breakdown the entire series has more or less been building up to.

-9:15: [In reference to Batman getting sent to prison] "I want him to get some nice and comfortable therapy."

. . . Lily is that what you think happens in prison?

-9:35: Lily is talking about the Joker's step-dad arc, and this is as good a time as any to stop for a sec to talk about how Lily doesn't seem to get what The Harley Show is doing with the characters.

The thing that makes the show an exceptionally brilliant take on the DC universe is that virtually all the characters (with some exceptions, that were tweaked for the better mostly) are actually faithful to their comic book/generally established characterization. To an impressive degree, down to even just minor details. You can tell the people who made this show are genuine fans of DC comics. Their personalities and character arcs are exaggerated for comedic effect, with specific interesting angles teased out to draw focus to them. Some elements of their personality are recontextualized to create a more engaging dynamic, but regardless. Even most of the plot elements are at least loose adaptations of storylines from the comic, or other DC media. It's really impressive how the show both works as a functional take on the DC universe by itself, and as a parody of it. Lily demonstrates she's totally oblivious to this multiple times in the video, but her section on the Joker best exemplifies this.

The Joker has taken over and/or become mayor of Gotham multiple times in the comics. Lily thinks for some god forsaken reason in the 70 something years Batman comics have been printed, nobody's thought of that. THEY HAVE. The gag with the second time Joker takes over Gotham IN THIS FUCKING SHOW ALONE is . . . He's actually a really good mayor. Gotham is a perpetual capitalist nightmare shithole of a city. The most insane, radical anarchist thing for The Joker to do is . . . Be a socialist who actually gives a shit about the small folk. That's the joke, Lily. That's the joke. That's the mother fucking JOKE. THE FUNNY HAHA, THERE IT IS LILY. I FUCKING EXPLAINED IT TO YOU.

And Lilian. The Joker being at his most normal and stable while he has a family. Is. A. Direct. Parody. Of. One. Of. The. Most. FAMOUS. BATMAN STORIES. EVER. WRITTEN.

SHE IS LITERALLY FUCKING SHOWING THE EPISODE WHERE THEY DIRECTLY VISUALLY REFERENCE THE KILLING JOKE ON SCREEN. LILY YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A FUCKING HERNIA.

-10:10: Lily calls Sam Raimi a "douchebag."

Fuck right off.

-10:25: "It's a return to wacky hijinks that uses to define The Joker back when he was a gangster in funny makeup."

NO IT ISN'T LILY.

-11:00: Lily bitches about Harley Quinn for the 7 minutes in the remaining runtime.

Okay, the play-by-play is over, I'm going to address this section all at once because it will be quicker and more comprehensive if I do. This is the point where all the aformentioned pins come in.

Though I'm going to have to be ignoring some bullshit Lily says here in order to stay focused, I will mention first, Lily doesn't seem to realize Batfleck and Nolan's Batman were MASSIVE departures from the comics and don't pull much from the storylines. I don't think that's nessesarily a bad thing, even though I'm not the biggest fan of either of those interpretations, but for the record-- no. Those adaptations have almost nothing to do with Year one, The Dark Night Returns, The Killing Joke, or The Long Halloween outside of superficial elements. Lily just googled "famous Batman comics" and picked the four she probably vaguely heard of before. Again, she didn't even recognize the in-your-face impossible to miss Killing Joke parody episode she used as footage for this video. SHE'S JUST PRETENDING SHE'S READ COMICS SHE HASN'T.

Now to the point:

Lily's rational for not liking Harley's portrayal in the Harley Quinn show is honest to god brain damage. I'm not even sure how hard I need to go into explaining this because . . . It's pointing at the text itself and calling it a flaw. Harley's entire journey as a person is TRYING TO DISCOVER WHO SHE IS outside of the toxic codependency she had with the Joker. Her arc is both a meta commentary on the nature of the character conceptually and her journey to redefine herself. THIS ISN'T FUCKING SUBTLE. THIS IS STATED IN THE SHOW. Harley's identity crisis over whether or not she's even a villan anymore STARTS IN SEASON 3. Harley's lack of inhibition is what DRIVES THE PLOT IN SEASON 2. Harley's struggles to emancipat herself IS THE PLOT OF THE FIRST FUCKING EPISODE. This is also honestly the ONLY DC property I can think of that actually bothers to do something with the fact that Harley is a psychologist. Almost on that basis alone, it's one of the most refreshing takes on the character. That actually means something when I say it, because I've actually read a fucking comic in my life. LILY WHAT FUCKING DIMENSION DO YOU SLIP INTO ANY TIME YOU SIT DOWN TO WATCH A SHOW.

That question is rhetorical-- Lily tells on herself several times throughout this video. Remember those pins? Go read em again. Lily identifies with Ivy, so Lily decided Ivy is the "real" main character-- and wants Harley to be Ivy's loving kissy huggy gf. She genuinely thinks the show is actively making a mistake anytime her smut ship fanfic is interrupted. Lily wants porn. LILY YEARNS FOR THE PORN, ALWAYS. Every single fucking time.

She's decided Ivy has done nothing wrong to create tension in the relationship. She has deemed the character flaws Harley has that creates tension in the relationship a mistake in the writing.

Because Lily has not actually read a comic, but probably has seen Batman: The Animated Series-- she's missed all of the other references and spoofs in the show except for the ones involving Harley. That was the show she was originally created in.

Case-fucking-closed. Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Lily Orchard is talking out of her ass.

Kill my parents and call me the world's greatest detective, I guess.

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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years ago

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Can I please request Trey, Jack, Kalim and Leona reacting to their little sibling (Cheka in Leona's case) asking the reader if they can marry them?

Hi, thank you for the ask! I'm guessing you mean the boys' younger siblings asking the reader to marry their bf? If not let me know, I took this approach for the ask :)

You get asked by Trey, Jack, Kalim's siblings and Cheka about marriage to their older brothers

Trey

He's lowkey embarrassed but he's laughing when he hears this

Trey had invited you over during the holidays and you two were helping out in the bakery. Trey's younger brothers came in and saw how you were busy by yourself. Deciding this was the chance to ask you a bunch of questions, they went and just rapid-fire asking when you were planning on marrying Trey

"Guys, guys, they're trying to do the icing on the cake leave them be," Trey pats his siblings on the back and tries to move them away from you. But the kids just keep going "Are you going to wear a suit? A dress? What about the cake flavor!"

Overall Trey thinks it's kind of funny, if anything if you answer these questions expect to see Trey blushing a little bit. Also expect him to daydream about a wedding more after this little incident haha

Jack

You were probably playing with Jack and his siblings when you were visiting them. You were already worn out by how much running everyone did but they all seemed to have superhuman stamina so you gave up and sat in the snow

Soon enough everyone else joined you, watching the clouds pass slowly in the sky. But then his younger sister started to ask you questions about your relationship with Jack. They knew you two were dating but they wanted to hear all of your date stories!

Jack tried to stop them from asking too many in case you didn't want to answer but they lowkey ignored his plea. They started to ask you "When are you going to marry Jack?" "He's been thinking about the kind of cake you two might have!" "Are you going to live close by?"

"T-that's enough you two," Jack's red in the face while you're laughing at the cute questions along with Jack's reaction. If you do answer any of these questions expect Jack to just look away shyly while the siblings giggle. You two are so wholesome omg

Kalim

He has a lot of siblings, but during one fancy event you got to meet a lot of them. While they might not all be close to Kalim, most of them knew about his relationship with you.

However what you didn't expect from this event was the amount of times you would be asked by Kalim's siblings (and aunts) on marriage. Will you get married next week? What kind of venue did you want to have? Things like that. His younger siblings were especially keen on asking 80% of these questions while the adults tried to stop them haha

Kalim overheard you answering one of the questions about how you wanted to wear something nice, whether it is a dress, a suit, or something else entirely. "Aww, I think you'll look great," Kalim smiles at you. He finds you really cute when you blush at his compliment

He's the only one that doesn't get embarrassed, though he does feel a little fluttery in his stomach with the idea of actually marrying you, it fee's like a dream. Kalim's also really glad that his siblings seem to already treat you like a part of the family

Leona

He was dreading this to ever happen, hence never mentioning letting you stay with him during the holidays. However, Farena's wife wanted to meet you and Leona had to agree

During your time at his home, you got to know his brother better along with the others in the royal family. Cheka frequently followed you around, mainly because he was curious as to who you were and also because he liked your vibes

Cheka asks a lot of questions, but at some point he started to ask if you were going to marry Leona and when. Right when Leona himself was with you. Leona, though usually chill, for the first time nearly spit out his drink and just turned slightly red in the face.

If you answer (with a little laugh of course), Cheka will just continue asking more questions about marriage. Leona, crossing his arms and refusing to look at you in the eye, will listen closely. He may not show it, but thinking about marrying you makes his heart beat faster and just makes him feel all warm inside, which in turn translates to him just being more emotionally constipated haha

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst trey #twst trey x reader #twst jack #twst jack x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim x reader #twst leona #twst leona x reader

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echantedtoon · 16 days ago

Text

Turbo/King Candy x Jessica Rabbit Like S/o Headcannons

This was a request a friend really wanted from me so here it is for anyone else to enjoy.

TURBO:

-You're a flag girl for a racing game similar to Outrun or Pole Position (both 80s racing games) although the big difference was that your game wasn't as popular as Turbotime so there wasn't really any reason for the guy to be jealous of the competition. At least not until Road Blasters but that's jumping the gun a little bit.

-You don't exactly meet each other until you finally decided to leave your game one day to go join others at Tapper's for the anniversary of Litwak's arcade opening or some similar celebration that many other games were celebrating. Of course your taller than the average video game women height and body type would turn some heads and the smaller racer was no exception.

-Dude literally has to strain his neck for a double take just to be sure he was seeing things from the amount of surgery root beer he's consumed by now. But once he confirms that you actually exist- MAN. IS. SMITTEN. ON. SIGHT!! I'm talking about the guy chokes on his drink as you gorgeously smile his way even if you weren't smiling at him, just his general direction, but it gives him enough confidence to make his move.

-He starts by buying you a drink, Tapper setting it right in front of you, before this tiny man gracefully struggled to climb onto the stool next to you slicking his helmet back like it was hair, and giving you a sly smile. "Hey, Baby.~ Are you a parking ticket?~ Cuz you got FINE written all over you?~"

-If it doesn't work out the first time be prepared for MANY 80s pick up lines including- "If I had to rate you from one to ten I'd give you a nine because I'm the one you need." "Hey. I'm writing a phone book. Can I have your number to put in it?" "Hey, Doll face. Wanna get physical?~" And other similar ones not considered cringey quite yet.

-He's pretty egotistical in personality so expect him to brag about everything involving him to you. His trophies, his winning streak, how his game's the most popular in the arcade, how he totally beats the Turbotime Twins in everything- Did he mention that he's also the greatest racer ever? He's trying to prove how much you should be smitten too often inviting you to come view him race.

-He secretly daydreams about you being the one that waves the checkered flag upon him crossing the finish line and plastering him in affection with him showing off to the world. Gold trophy in one hand while holding a beautiful woman in the other. Everyone knows his deep crush on you.

-Remember when Felix and Calhoun kissed and little hearts appeared? Yeah. That happens every time he thinks about you or he happens to see you in Grand Central Station or Tapper's. Other's make fun of him for that a lot and he absolutely hates it and denied it every time but everyone and their programmers know about his crush. It's super obvious by this point.

-If by some reason you do happen to date him expect him to brag about having the most beautiful girlfriend in the entire arcade. "Hey, Pac-Man. How's Mrs. Pac-Man? Guess what?! My girlfriend's hotter than that yellow beachball reject!!" You're going to have to stop him from opening his mouth before Pac-Man tries to eat him again and he was very close to Mario just goomba stomping him after he insulted Princess Peach/Toadstool. Please stop this idiot from insulting everyone's wife before someone punts him back to Turbotime.

-He's not picky about personality and would genuinely love you but he'd be very happy if you were able to knock him down a peg(he thinks it's hot his girl can kick his behind-) or two. If you pick him up he'll also fight against it and complain the entire time you hold him, but ngl he's actually very into it. He has a thing for taller women after all...Even if he hates it when you tease him or hold things out of his reach.

-However one of the downsides of you deciding to pursue the relationship with him is his jealousy. Doesn't matter who's approaching you, if Turbo's around he always gives them a death glare that can put Bowser's fire breath to shame. So some game characters might avoid you because of that temper. And if someone were to flirt with you- Overprotective guard dog with rabies he is. Don't underestimate him because of his height. More than once he's started a bar fight at Tapper's over someone getting too close or attempting to make unwanted advances especially if you had already said no.

-Don't underestimate him because of his height. More than one person has had a personal experience with Turbo turning into an angry honey badger infested with rabies as he was provoked. People have learnt quickly to not make fun of his height, and to not try any funny business around you. More than once you'd have to pry him off someone and walk away with him tucked under your arm screaming profanities like a crazy Chihuahua.

KING CANDY:

-IK he's just Turbo in disguise but his personality shift in his KC disguise is notable enough to be different from how OG Turbo would go about it. However like OG Turbo once he sees you he's absolutely smitten by you. Unlike OG Turbo however his approach to you is much more normal if by normal having a guy with Tinkerbell shoes shuffle up to you and tell you how much your eyes remind him of sparkling rock candy.

-Honestly this pairing gives more of the Jessica and Rodger Rabbit vibes. Goofy little man with a gorgeous knockout GF. His goofball charms and shyer attempts at courting you are probably what got you falling for this man in the beginning.

-Instead of eyeing your form like many others, this man instead decides to court you in the most cheesy ways possible. Bringing you chocolates and other candy from his game(it's not like there's a limited amount of it). Flowers (specifically either chocolate roses or edible flowers arrangements). Love notes, those really cheesy ones that don't even rhythm but they're so sweet you don't mind.

-Mans loves you endlessly and will spend hours just gazing at you with literal heart eyes with hearts popping around his head. Very sweet alongside being goofy. Surprisingly a romantic too. Offers to drive you around on the back of his car. Plans at least one date that has you both sharing two straws in one milkshake. If he's feeling really romantic then he gets you those Valentine's hard candies shaped like hearts or those red lollipops also shaped like hearts. He even dedicates his wins to you in an attempt to impress you.

-Speaking of- He's very much the Rodger Rabbit of your relationship. Always gazing goofily at you with a love struck grin to the point Sour Bill has caught him daydreaming of you all lovestruck with a dopey grin. He's a king so anything you want in Sugar Rush is at your disposal. Want a glass of chocolate milk? How about a front row seat to watch the races? Would you like Sour Bill as a personal servant? Sour Bill completely disagrees with that last gesture.

-You once agreed to be a flag girl for one of the Random Roster Races, ironically one HE won, and when you gave him a winner's kiss he's been begging you to wave the checkered flag at other races too.

-Very sweet and energetic. If his goofy antics aren't making you giggle or smile, he's always flirting with you with cheesy puns since he's a guy who loves a play on words. "Are you a piece of cake? Custh you're the scheetest.~" "What's sweet and curvy? A candy cane of courseth but you're better.~" "Your voice is more beautiful than golden honey.~" "Did you sit in sugar? C-Cuzth that's -...Gumdrops! Forget what I said." He tried being more bold but ended up becoming too flustered and couldn't finish that last bit.

-You're going to get lots of cute candy nicknames. Honey. Sugar. Honeypie. Gumdrop. Angel cake. Cupcake. Sweetheart. Sweet cheeks. Tootsie pop. When he's feeling more romantic or sentimental he'll call you more special names like My Dear, Darling, My Queen, etc.

-When you pick him up and kiss him he just melts in your arms. Giving a loud 'HOHO!' as you press kisses to his cheeks and forehead leaving him a bright cherry red and kiss marks all over his face. The first time that happened it left him just staring off into space blue screened but now he just blushes all over and this just might be his new favorite thing ever!

-If he ever proposes to you it's either going to be with one of those ring pops or with a gem made of the shiniest rock candy he can find.

#king candy wreck it ralph #wreckitralph #turbo wreck it ralph #wreck it ralph #wreck it ralph turbo #king candy wir #turbo wir #wir turbo #wir #turbotastic #turbotime #turbo #turbo x reader #king candy #king candy cybug #king candybug #king cybug #king candy x reader

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