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sharkorok · 1 year ago

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ooo u want me so bad

or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u

requested: nope

cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe

a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place

-the only exception is you.

-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get

-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey

-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him

-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that

-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”

-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3

jay

-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared

-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head

-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”

-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne

-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…

-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all

-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly

-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer

-“u can keep it ig”

jake

-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them

-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that

-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”

-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL

-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!

-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man

-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust

-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…

-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!

-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”

sunghoon

-he’s really protective over you me thinks

-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked

-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor

-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…

-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3

-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you

-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry

sunoo

-he’ll always listen to you

-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways

-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella

-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice

-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation

-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol

-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either

-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf

-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl

-tldr ur word > anyone else

jungwon

-always speaks highly of you

-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL

-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao

-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you

-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO

-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you

-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??

-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe

-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.

-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”

niki

-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit

-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)

-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..

-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!

-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else

-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie

-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”

-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enha fanfic

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saintmuses · 10 months ago

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❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞

Pairing:

Soft!Dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader

Summary:

Ada’s best friend had been much of a family. When she was requested for her hand in marriage to another, perhaps she was too much of a family.

Warning(s): slightly Dub-con. Inappropriate touching. Possessive!Thomas. Implied Jealousy. Threat. Controlling. Minors, dni! Note: this is a mini series, so there will be three parts.

Word Count: 963

She had remembered the feeling the first time she had met Thomas Shelby. He was a kind of person who laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.

She was seventeen when she became Ada’s first friend in Birmingham, and she had only got to meet him for a few months before he enlisted for the Great War. After he came back, his pale blue eyes cascaded in ice, and he didn’t laugh or smile anymore. However, he became more receptive towards her, always having eyes on her as if she was a member of his family or Peaky Blinders.

Ada’s painted lips grew taut as she looked at her apologetically. “Oh, about that…” she trailed off with a sigh as a response to her impending marriage proposal with the man she had been going steady with for a while now.

“What is it, Ada?”

“You would need to consult with Tommy about that. Although I don’t think you should…” Ada trailed off, realizing she had said too much.

Her eyes narrowed at the Shelby sister, catching onto what she was not saying. “And why not?”

Ada hesitated, “I’ve heard that Edward already asked for your hand, but evidently Tommy did not give his blessing.”

Her blood ran cold at the implication of not being able to marry Edward. “Why do I need to ask Tommy for permission to walk down the aisle?” She questioned, fiddling with the hem of her coat. “I’m not really a part of this family.”

“Well, Tommy already considered you as a part of the Shelby family, otherwise he would not let you attend the meetings.” Ada pointed out, flicking off an invisible lint off her coat.

“You mean to tell me that I have to consult with Tommy with any decisions I make regarding my future?” She enunciated each word slowly, but with tension filled with anger. Ada’s gaze turned sympathetic.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you are not the only one.”

“No,” she said sharply as she fumed internally. Her eyes flashed in irritation. “Because he has already gotten involved with making decisions for my future that has nothing to do with the business of the Shelby family.”

Slamming the doors open with a soft bang, she stormed into his office without glancing at Lizzie who was about to greet her.

“Thomas!” She shouted, gritting her teeth.

He barely looked up from his paperwork that was scattered around on his ordinate desk. “Y/N,” he said simply, placing his pen aside.

She heard Lizzie closing the doors behind her so no one else could interrupt them.

“I heard you received a visitor recently,” she prodded angrily, eyebrows raising to prompt him to speak.

He heaved a sigh which bristled her, and she crossed her arms when he ran his hands down his face before rubbing his eyes as if he just received a headache.

I swear this man-

His words interrupted her internal tirade. “He asked me for your hand in marriage,” he said calmly, intertwining his fingers on top of the desk. “And I said no.”

“And why not?”

He pushed himself out of the chair, grabbing a decanter to pour himself a fresh drink of Irish whiskey. “Because it does not benefit the family if you were to marry a man like him.” Her eye twitched slightly when she heard the glass met wood as he placed the tumbler back on the desk.

“A man like-“ she cut herself off, trying again before anger got the best of her. “He’s respectable, he has wealth which he would be able to provide support for his and my future family, and-“

“And I said no, Y/N.” He said sharply, interrupting her which effectively caused her to close her mouth. His words were stern as he stared down at her with icy blue eyes.

She looked at him in disbelief, a sense of chill ran through her veins when things did not connect, fitted like pieces of a puzzle. “You can’t make choices for me.”

His lips quirked slightly, “you’ll find that I can.”

Her eyebrows slowly furrowed as she stared up at him, observing his expression.

Before she could lunge out of the armchair, away from the office, and away from him, he had already anticipated her move, reaching for her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her to him, gripping her tightly with a clenched jaw and unbridle danger lurking in his strict gaze.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned her softly; However, his tone gave away to the threat that was simmering underneath the surface.

Her bottom lip trembling as she peered up at him with glistening eyes. “Why would you do that?” She asked quietly, voice shaking inaudibly. “Why would you get involved with my life when it doesn’t even benefit you to begin with?”

He didn’t say anything yet as his thumb teased the waistband of her skirt before his fingers lightly skimming down between her thighs, brushing her cunt over the thin opaque material and her underwear.

She was shocked by how reactive her body was to his ghostly touch. She shook her head, looking pleadingly into his cold eyes for some sense of mercy.

He tilted his head before he pressed down hard on her clit through multiple layers of fabrics. She gasped, her entire body jerking at the unfamiliar combination of pleasure and a twinge of pain that seemed to render her immobile, not without a shudder.

He then leaned his head forward, closing the distance between their faces. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, barely touching. “Because if you were going to marry anyone, it would be me.” He murmured, his voice was dangerous as he stared deeply into her eyes before releasing her, stepping away from her presence.

act i | ❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞

act ii | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞

act iii | ❝𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙❞

#cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders

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marlair · 10 months ago

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a thousand faces in a thousand places

synopsis: the housewardens with a Sparkle (from honkai: star rail) reader. (headcanons)

gn!reader + reader is not yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

uhm! 😨 (scared)

there is not a single universe where this man, pre-overblot, did not hate you.

so, how did you two meet? considering your mysterious, yet still childish personality- you probably got sorted into heartslabyul!

you’re basically like alice but.. so. much. worse.

pre-overblot he’d, most likely, be very cross with you.

do you know how many times you’ve been off-with-your-head-ed? because it’s happened a LOT. and i mean, a lot a lot.

you were in and out of everywhere, were rather cryptic, and had a strong mischievous streak.

how could he NOT be annoyed? smh.

though, post-overblot, i think he’d be more relaxed.

of course, he’d still be exasperated, but not to the level of annoyance he had before. progress, woop woop !!!

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

i am still scared. not for you, but for leona.

he’d be annoyed, i suppose. you’re like a creepy, more out there, more literally insane version of ruggie.

so, how did you two meet? it’s similar to how yuu and the lion met, actually. except.. there’s kind of a difference.

whereas yuu stepped on his tail (by accident!), causing leona to go “ooh i’m gonna eat you” like a shark on steroids, YOU were the one who.. tried to eat him.

picture this, leona sleeping on the botanical garden, you seeing his tail and immediately going

how romantic a meeting! be still, my heart! meetcute who?

you immediately started laughing hysterically when his startled awake gaze met your terribly amused eyes, so the impression you left to him.. eh.

you probably started a “Call Leona ‘Unca Weona’” trend on MagiTok (that cater undoubtedly joined in on), so he’s probably pretty annoyed at you.

— you’ve also probably used his money to fund some performances.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“you have bewitched me body and soul. 🤩” “HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE”

he’s probably mildly terrified of you and your absolutely horrendous schemes.

so, how did this lovely pair meet? WELL.

azul, doing paperwork in his office or whatever he does, looking like he sniffs lint, jolts when jade enters abruptly.

it’s unlike the eel’s usual respectful manner, so he’s pretty confused, immediately going “what is it?”

a sheepish jade smiles awkwardly and goes to say something like, “blah blah vanished into thin air before they could pay.”

azul is BEWILDERED. vanished??

so, obviously, righteously wanting his money, he tells jade and floyd to go look for you.

they did not find you.

fun.

KALIM AL-ASIM

he has a new bestie now!

you two are great friends, your chaotic (one more so than the other) tendencies and fun-loving personalities make you a great pair.

jamil would say otherwise.

you two go on happy little excursions around the campus, terrorizing a few people here and there, and honestly just having the time of your lives.

he was so glad you weren’t his friend just for his wealth, but because you liked his personality as he liked yours.

though, you, as someone who can only have their interest piqued by amusement, didn’t understand why he’d think you were using him.

you wear the most stupid matching shirts (that kalim bought and jamil tacitly approved) and walk around, happily playing and leaving only destruction in your wake.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

you’re fashionable, he likes you.

with your skill in acting, you’re probably in the film studies club, which is most likely how you two met.

he admires your.. cough, dedication. and he also thinks your personality is a bit (is it?👀).

“your dedication to being you is admirable.” “hehe thanks but wtf🥰”

as literally everyone is, kalim not included, he’s pretty exasperated by your chaos-causing tendencies and unhinged personality.

illusion magic is your jam, so just imagine how shocked he was when looking into his mirror and seeing your evilly-grinning visage instead of his own face.

(rook approves.)

talking about rook, a curious vil had asked the hunter to.. stalk you for a while, because he was confused if you were really the person you portrayed yourself as.

a laughing rook gave the report that you had found him out and asked if he was close to his housewarden because he stripped himself naked and apologized for his crime of liking neige.

vil is flabbergasted.

IDIA SHROUD

on one hand, he’s terrified, and on the other- he thinks you’re funny.

you come up with the most unhinged insults, and you always get the last word- he thinks you’re admirable.

your level of extrovertness is shocking to him.

first kalim, now you? he is Shaking His Head™.

how you first met doesn’t matter, what matters is what he accidentally said when first meeting you and having a good short chat.

“mesugaki..” he mumbled in the middle of your sentence.

your ears were good. his ears were working well enough to hear his own damn self.

he wants to cry. he wants to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself in it.

“hikikomori.” you immediately responded.

critical hit! idia will have to stay inside his room for three weeks, tell ortho he loves him..

you’d say you two get along well, idia would say otherwise.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he enjoys your rambunctious personality. he’s normally chilling quietly in the corner, so having you drag him around probably does wonders for how people see him.

he approves (sebek does NOT).

he’s sometimes concerned. he knows humans don’t live long, will you Doing What You Do somehow make your lifespan even shorter?

you’re just being you and he’s standing menacingly right beside you. imagine how that looks to other people.

your local terrorist gremlin and THE malleus draconia. standing next to eachother. chilling.

you probably call him “that guy with the horns”, or something more animal aligned.

like “ram horns boy”.

lilia probably laughed at it, silver didn’t know if he should’ve felt offended for malleus or if it was a friendly joke, and sebek is going to use it as a horror story for the future generations of his family.

you’re just causing chaos and he’s there like 🧍😄

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waldau-archived · 8 months ago

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menace — boo seungkwan | 2,058 words | fluff

inspired by this video. and ofc boo seungkwan :)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

no one ever talks about the downsides of having a crush.

having a heart that beats erratically only when you see them. the way your hands turn unattractively clammy even if they’re within normal distance. you know, normal friend distance, because only one of you feels another way. voice cracks that spring up at the worst possible moments. the way you forget what you want to say when it’s your turn to speak.

maybe it’s fun sometimes, daydreaming about a world where you’re something else. something more. but that’s just what it is — a fantasy. the cons outweigh the pros.

case in point: boo seungkwan.

you don’t know how long you’ve been cuddling with your pillow, your back facing the man in question while you try to will yourself to sleep. it doesn’t work, just the way it hasn’t been working ever since you flopped onto your bed.

“you should be out with the others,” you murmur without looking at seungkwan, another variation of the same sentiment you’ve been trying to get him to understand for a while now.

seungkwan lets out a huff. “and you should stop telling me to go.”

you don’t need to turn to know he’s run his hand through his hair in frustration. you’re sure his hair is an adorable mess, but you don’t need any more fuel to add to the fire of feelings that’s been raging inside you all evening long.

when your friends suggested renting a beach house for the weekend, you didn’t realize they’d put you and seungkwan in the same room. you’re best friends, they’d said. of course you’re going to room together.

seungkwan isn’t half bad at being a roommate, but it’s a bit of an issue when you have a massive crush on him that you’re really trying to stop thinking about.

annoying seungkwan with his annoying smile and his annoying hand that rested on your thigh half the time you were playing monopoly. his annoying leg that touched yours when you were watching a movie because there wasn’t much space left on the sofa, but he had to have you next to him because he’s never been good with horror.

even when you’d offered to hold his hand from where you were sitting on the sofa, he refused till jeonghan moved to make space for him to sit next to you.

in a way, you’re glad you sat next to him. at least you didn’t have to pretend like you weren’t scared, not when you had vernon and wonwoo sitting in front of you, watching the screen unblinkingly.

it’s all been a bit…much. which is why you decided to skip going on a walk along the beach with the boys and head for a night in, citing a headache.

the only problem? boo seungkwan wanted to be the one to take care of you.

“do you want me to get you anything? water? medicine?” he asks, soft, and you feel bad for making him stay behind for something that isn’t even an issue for you.

“no.”

“should i sing something?”

“no.” the last thing you need right now is boo seungkwan serenading you while you’re wallowing in your feelings about him.

it’s neither of your faults that the moment you realized you were in sharp, blinding, no-taking-back love with him was when he clinched the match point in a badminton match against junhui four months ago.

four months ago. a badminton match.

your life hasn’t been easy since.

you’ve never minded seungkwan being touchy before — that’s just how he is. he brushes stray lint off your clothes if he spots it, fixes your hair if he thinks it’s out of place, and traces the back of your ear for a few seconds when you’re nervous about something.

you love it. you love being his best friend. but what you don’t love is the way you’ve been carefully rethinking every interaction you’ve been having with him since that fateful night four months ago.

boo seungkwan is sunshine incarnate. he loves and loves and loves. he loves everyone so much that you don’t know if the love he has for you is any different from the love he has for everyone else.

sometimes you wonder if he has even the slightest hint. he’s not clueless, but he’s not very good at acting on his impulses the way you are. for him, everything needs to be measured. set in stone. approved of beforehand. something you wonder if you could just kiss him and see what happened, before realizing that a moment of happiness is not, in fact, worth a lifetime without boo seungkwan.

which is why you let out a deep sigh and curl in on yourself.

“okay, that’s it,” seungkwan says, and you hear the sound of your laptop shutting and the springs of your bed creaking before he comes into your line of sight, kneeling down on the floor in front of you on his knees, head propped up on his arms that are folded near your face.

if he was a bit closer, you could’ve even kissed him.

you wonder who let boo seungkwan be this perfect. there’s nothing about him that you dislike.

“you’re not telling me what’s wrong, and i’m not leaving till you do. you should know that by now.”

you do know that. you’re very familiar with boo seungkwan and his incredibly stubborn self that just wants to help because he loves to. he loves people. and he just doesn’t love you. not the way you want him to.

“it’s your fault,” you mumble childishly, trying to turn to the other side so he’ll have to repeat the whole ordeal, but he just grabs your hand with an iron-strong grip. damn him and his long fingers.

his fingers, weirdly enough, were the first thing you actually noticed about him when you first met him. the way he drank jeonghan under the table with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around the beer glass, draining it like it was water.

this evening, too — his fingers drumming on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your hand, his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear so that he could whisper his plan to you.

“i knew it,” he says, head lifting from the bed. “it’s not just a headache. it’s probably not even a headache, is it?”

“shut up,” you mumble, more out of the fear that he’ll find out somehow than the mortification stemming from the fact that he’s caught on so easily.

“is it really my fault, though? you’re not even letting me make up for it.”

he should be out, you think. out with the rest of your friends and out of your treacherous heart. instead he’s sitting here with your heart in his hands and he’s not even aware of it.

“you can’t do anything about it,” you huff.

“try me.”

when it becomes clear that he’s seriously not letting go of your hand even after a few minutes of silence, you turn to look at the ceiling, eyes fixed on the little cracks above you.

“have you ever…wanted something you can’t have?”

“of course i have,” he says instantly.

“oh. did you get it?”

“no,” he says easily, letting go of your hand. “but it doesn’t mean i’ve stopped trying.”

now you’re curious. you let go of the pillow so you can see him better. “what is it?”

“i’m not telling you.”

“oh, come on!”

seungkwan leans forward to ruffle your hair. “not till you tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sigh. “i can’t.”

“why not?”

“because…”

“hmm?”

“because.”

“wow,” seungkwan says, with a small laugh. “i didn’t know you were this articulate.”

“i hate you,” you say with no heat, turning around and lying down again. maybe he’ll get bored in a while and leave you to your own devices.

no such luck. one moment you’re staring at the blank wall of your room, and the next thing you is that there’s a weight on the bed right behind you. seungkwan’s weight behind you, to be specific. he’s so warm all the time. one of his hands snakes around your waist gingerly, and you tense up immediately.

sure, you’re best friends, but you’ve never done this before. sleepovers are a common thing for the two of you, but cuddling? you’re not uncomfortable, exactly, but you just don’t know what to feel.

“can i ask you a question?” seungkwan asks, and his proximity makes goosebumps rise on your arms. embarrassing.

“sure?” you manage to squeak out, definitely not focusing on how much better his voice sounds so close. and how casual he’s being about all this.

“are you really going to let random strangers on the internet control your life?”

you’re so confused by the tangent he’s gone on that you have no choice but to turn around and face him, and— bad idea. bad idea. his lips look so damn kissable that you have to physically lift your eyes from them to meet his. and he’s smiling for some reason.

you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, much less make it to the next day alive.

“do you want to kiss your guy best friend?”

you feel like he’s stolen all your words. you’re aware you’re just staring at him, blinking like a goldfish, unable to speak. seungkwan lifts a hand and hovers it above your cheek, seeking your permission. he catches the minute nod you give him and rests his palm against your cheek, hand warm against your cool skin.

“i don’t care what she said,” seungkwan continues. “do you want to?”

“how did you—” you manage to choke out.

“because i can see what posts you’ve liked, silly,” seungkwan giggles, thumb swiping against your cheek before he lets go. you instantly miss the heat of his hand. “you still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

he doesn’t seem upset, the way you thought he might be at the discovery. “if i say…yes?”

“then,” seungkwan says, leaning down, and what comes next is something you’ve only ever dreamed of. his lips are soft against yours, letting you set the pace as his hands gently card through your hair. he’s always been gentle with you underneath the teasing exterior he has, and now is no different.

when he doesn’t pull away despite your fears, you decide to take the leap and thread your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to yourself. he comes to you willingly.

you don’t know what to do with your hands when seungkwan finally pulls away. he’s out of breath. you feel oddly proud, but there’s also an unsettling feeling in your stomach. what if—

“please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing,” seungkwan says, finally looking nervous for the first time all evening long. “because then i should’ve listened to her.”

“no,” you say, feeling yourself smile like an idiot. “no. neither of us should listen to her. i don’t want it to be a one-time thing, either.”

“good,” seungkwan sighs, moving closer so his head rests on your shoulder.

“but…how long have you known?”

“how long? hmm. only a month.”

horrible. he’s been watching you suffer all this while?

“hey, stop being shy on me now,” seungkwan says, turning to look up at you. “i’ve seen the way you look at me.”

you’re sure there’s steam pouring out of your ears. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” seungkwan singsongs. “because i love you far too much for that.”

you look down at him. “you…” love me?

but that wasn’t ever a question, was it? he does. you’ve seen the way he looked at you before you realized your feelings for him, and the way he’s been looking at you after, and there’s been no difference.

he’s always loved you. maybe longer than you’ve loved him.

there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest that makes you push seungkwan away and hide your head in his neck so he doesn’t see you. he lets out a little laugh and rests a hand on your back.

“do you want to go out and introduce everyone to your…boyfriend?” he asks, shy, and it’s a sight to behold because boo seungkwan’s always anything but shy.

“boyfriend?”

“does it sound okay?” he asks sheepishly.

he gets his answer in the form of a kiss.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#lmk if there's any spelling errors pls <3 #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes

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bbytamaki · 2 years ago

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more random obey me headcanons >:)

content: sfw headcanons, scars mentioned (from piercings), belphie has depression, all family love <3, not proofread >:((

note: i haven’t done any dateable hcs yet :(( might do some soon

— lucifer can’t stand bananas. it’s just a thing. even the smell will have him pressing his handkerchief over his mouth like a sick victorian man. does satan use this to his advantage? possibly.

— has very feminine hands. he covers them with gloves so he doesn’t have to hear asmo’s jealous whining. if anyone brings it up he’s not above strangling them with his dainty, girlish fingers.

— flexible. like shockingly. it doesn’t really come to light that often but every once in a while lucifer follows single mom yoga videos on the weekends.

— mammon has the prettiest facial features ever. like his eyes and lips look so good in candid photos. his magazine covers are the bane of asmo’s existence.

— bird tendencies. like i mean squawking and jumping like 3 feet in the air when startled. in his demon form he’s just a big parrot. he does the head tilt thing when he’s confused.

— if anyone stands in front of him for longer than a minute he’s picking lint out of their hair and fixing their clothes. his brothers have gotten more than used to his “preening” and either avoid standing around him for too long or just take it. lucifer does this too and sometimes they’ll just stand and fix each other’s clothes for like 5 minutes straight while everyone else is like “???”

— levi is tall. very tall. he’s just so scrawny and lanky and his posture is awful so you wouldn’t even notice until he actually straightens up to his full height. this rarely ever happens unless he’s in his demon form. when it does he is scary.

— cosplays online. his cosplay friends are some of his favorite people. he already sews his own costumes (as we’ve seen), and he’s really good at makeup. one of his future plans is to meet up in the human world to go to a con with his friends.

— screams like a little girl. one time mammon accidentally walked into the bathroom when levi was showering and he shrieked. lucifer ran to see what the commotion was because “how did a human child find their way into the devildom??” levi has never felt more embarrassed.

— satan watches trashy reality tv in his private time. bad girls club, keeping up with the kardashians, you name it.

— can sing the whole periodic table song by tom lehrer forward and backward. i think satan is actual really good at science and it would be his best and favorite subject.

— he just likes animals in general. he has a thing for bunnies after visiting a human world petting zoo.

— asmo has an abnormally long tongue, like surpassing attractive and approaching freakish. he usually keeps it in his mouth but once every so often decides to creep solomon out just for fun.

— has soooo many stripper friends. if you’re wondering how his hair and makeup stay in place the whole day, he learned from the best.

— he definitely designed an entire line of lingerie but only made one of each design. they’re ultra rare collectibles in the devildom and worth more than you could imagine.

— beel can french braid and make friendship bracelets like he’s going to a girl scout camp. nobody can tell me he didn’t hand make the necklaces he wears.

— speaking of martha stewart beel, he can crochet and makes blankets and cute plushies for belphie all the time.

— luke is actually his little brother and no one can convince him otherwise lol they go back and forth over nothing all the time and stop talking to each other until one of them says “what do you want for dinner”

— belphie is the king of doing his own piercings at home because why pay $50 for something he already knows how to do? he ends up taking some of them out before they heal because he gets tired of them and ends up with a bunch of scars on his face and body.

— you and beel are his dream journal. he texts the attic club gc after every nap to tell you guys what his latest dream was about. (you’re the two people that show up in his dreams the most.)

— goes absolutely dormant during depressive episodes. the complete opposite of his twin brother (beel has to keep busy at all times to stay distracted). asmo carries him to his private bathroom and lets belphie pick his favorite soaps and lotions (he likes the ones that smell like sandalwood, they remind him of taking naps in his brothers’ rooms).

#obey me #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Summary: It's finally time for your coffee date with Eddie, leading the two of you to fall even harder for each other.

Warnings: brief mention of drug dealing, Reader's grandma has dementia, character death

WC: 6.5k

Chapter 9/20

Divider credit to @saradika

The lime green numbers of the microwave clock reads 11:57, which means that Eddie will be here any minute. You drag your palms on the thighs of your boot-cut jeans, triple-checking that your perspiration hasn’t left a visible stain on the light-wash fabric.

“Okay, her lunch is in the fridge. And the number of the coffee shop is on the counter,” you tell Jess, pointing to the scrap of notebook paper in front of her. “If you need something, just call, and I’ll come home.”

Jess waves away your concern with a kind smile. She’d been pleading with you to get out there and date for ages now, and she was just glad you’d finally taken her advice. Though, you note wryly, she would not be happy if she knew who that date was.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassures you, bracing a hand on your shoulder. “If anything, we’ll need to check on you. Who is this mystery date, anyway?”

“Just a guy,” you say, trying to remain light and casual while simultaneously fighting down the barrage of nerves in your stomach.

Jess takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, God, it’s not one of those creeps from a dating hotline, is it? Because I’ve never heard of one of those that didn’t end up on 48 Hours.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” you shake your head, spotting a piece of lint on your cable knit sweater and plucking it off carefully. You flick it off of your finger, silently berating yourself when you remember that you’ll have to vacuum it later. “It’s a guy from around here.”

Your friend wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as the buzzer rings. You race to the intercom to let him in before he can say anything, but your reflexes are too slow.

“Hey, it’s me.” The sound of his voice has your body pulsing, an eager grin tugging at your lips despite your intentions to keep calm. His slight rasp has you craving the sting of tobacco just to flatten your nerves.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” Grabbing your jacket from where you’ve haphazardly thrown it over the back of the couch, you’ve almost made it to the door, when—

“No. No.” You cringe at the way Jess’s words bite into your excitement. “Please tell me that your date is not Eddie Munson.” You can only offer her a sheepish grin, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously?!”

You huff out a sigh, both impatient to go on the date and flustered at being caught. “Look, he’s changed. A lot.”

“Oh, you mean he stopped calling you a bitch and making shitty comments about your grandma?” Jess snorts. “How chivalrous.”

There’s no time to explain everything that’s happened, so you simply say, “I’ll be back in two hours,” before closing the door behind you, making sure that it latches before you start down the hallway.

Eddie is waiting in the tiny lobby. He’s leaned up against the double doors, tapping one Reebok-clad foot and examining his fingernails anxiously. A memory crashes over you; one where his nails are painted jet black, though there hasn’t been any polish on them in some time.

He smiles as soon as he spots you, standing up straighter and walking to meet you before you can get to the door. “Hey,” he says softly, letting his hand brush yours as he kisses your cheek.

“Hey, yourself.” You want to kiss him back, but not on his cheek. Your lips yearn to crash against his once more; this time, anchored in belonging rather than lust. Instead, you manage a compliment. “You clean up nice.”

It’s the truth. His gray jeans are free of any holes, sometimes intentional but often the result of overwearing. The sleeves of his red sweater are pushed up slightly, exposing the litany of tattoos on his arms, and it occurs to you that you want to know each of their origins.

“Can’t lie, Harris helped pick out my clothes today,” he admits. “He caught me trying to figure out what to wear and we finally agreed on this.” He sweeps a hand down his side to emphasize his point.

“Was the ponytail his idea, too?” His curls are pulled back and rest at the nape of his neck.

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. “Nah, that was all me.” He pauses, gaze briefly landing on your mouth before his eyes are drawn back to yours. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”

You try to shrug off the compliment, still caught off-guard by his kindness. You wonder when—or if—that unease will dissipate. “I think you’re just used to seeing me with Play-Doh stuck to my shirt,” you tease, but he doesn’t break his trance.

“You’re always beautiful.” The sincerity of his statement clings to a silence that should be awkward, but is somehow comforting. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, lifting the fog of budding romance that clouds the lobby. “Let’s go get some coffee, yeah?”

Eddie takes your hand in his when you nod, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you. He sweeps his hand in the direction of the seat, and you giggle.

“Such a gentleman.”

He doesn’t divulge that Wayne reminded him to open doors for you when he’d come over to the apartment for dinner last night, or that the older man had slipped him a crumpled ten dollar bill and whispered, “get her something to eat, too,” punctuating his statement with a wink.

His left leg bounces as he starts the engine and he grates his teeth over his lower lip. He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing either of these things until you timidly rest a hand on his right knee and ask, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, gliding the gear shift from ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ as he backs out of his spot. “Just, uh, been a long time since I’ve gone on a date.” And never with someone so goddamn perfect, he wants to add, but he’s stopped by the fear of coming on too strong.

You graze your thumb over the gray denim and smile at him. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins at your reassurance, the soft dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening.

“Yeah.”

He turns on the radio with a slight snap of his wrist, shifting the skull ring that wraps around his middle finger. A metal song comes on that you don’t recognize, drumbeats thumping through the old speakers. Eddie winces, nudging the volume down so he can hear himself speak over the impending guitar solo. “You can change it to something you like better.”

“Nah, this is fine,” you shake your head. “Kinda warming up to heavier music since someone gave me a Guns ‘N Roses tape.”

Eddie’s eyebrows brush the edge of his tousled bangs in surprise. “You really listen to it?”

“All the time,” you confirm truthfully. It’s quickly become one of your favorites; each time you play it, you’re reminded of Harris dressed as a miniature Axl Rose, drawing a picture of you and Eddie holding hands. Not to mention the way that Eddie adoringly gazed at you while you calmed his son down, quickly throwing together an art project and saving the day.

“How’s Grandma?” he asks now, pressing on the brake as he approaches a stop sign.

“Same as always. Her aid had to take her to the hospital the other day because she fell, and she’s been losing more language.” You try to play it off like it doesn’t bother you, but your heart pangs as you speak. When she was initially diagnosed, you’d known that she’d forget who people were, but you hadn’t realized that she would eventually forget how to talk. “Good news is, she hasn’t lost her appetite for Oreos. I have to keep the package you brought over hidden away so she doesn’t eat them all.”

Eddie laughs at this. “Told you; there’s nothing Oreos can’t fix.” He pulls into the cafe parking lot and snags the first available spot he sees. “I really am sorry that you have to see that, though. It can’t be easy.”

You keep your eyes trained on the dashboard, knowing that you’ll tear up if you catch a glance of his sympathetic expression. “‘S just par for the course with dementia, I guess.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else–he isn’t sure what to say–as he kills the engine. He clicks off his seatbelt to scramble to your door, but it gets snagged in the crook of his elbow, yanking him back.

“Jesus, shit,” he grumbles, untangling himself from the trap he’d inadvertently created. “Don’t move; I’m not done being a gentleman.”

You put your hands up in surrender, watching as he walks to your side and opens the door. “Wow, that was such a surprising gesture,” you mock him, letting out a breathless scoff when he flips you the bird. “Giving me the middle finger kinda negates the whole ‘gentleman’ thing, dontcha think?”

Eddie pretends to consider this, crossing his arms over his chest while shifting his weight to one leg, bringing his hand to his freshly-shaved chin. “Mm, nope.” He helps you out of the seat, still not letting go of your hand once you’re standing next to his car. He holds it tighter, so you can feel every etch of the lifelines across his palm.

The mouth-watering scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee swirls throughout the cafe, wafting to your nose as soon as you open the door. Or, more precisely, as soon as Eddie opens the door for you. You assume he’ll slip his fingers back through yours after you’re both inside, but he hesitates before letting his palm hover on the small of your back. You can barely feel the pads of his fingertips through your thick sweater, but as soon as you give him a smile, he allows himself to hold you a bit closer.

A chipper, twenty-something barista whose name tag reads Stephanie greets you as you approach the counter. “Hi! What can I get you folks?”

Eddie nudges you to place your order, which you give with a polite smile. “Just a coffee with room for milk,” you tell her.

You turn to Eddie so he can give his order, but he says softly, “Get something to eat, too.” He points to the display of baked goods before you, and you peer into the case. The prices are listed next to each item, and you furrow your brow at the $2 brownie.

“Oh, s’okay,” you murmur, trying to play it off. The last thing you need is for Eddie to think you’re pitying him, which, okay, maybe you are. He just doesn’t have to know that. “You can get something, though.”

He shakes his head with a grin. “I’m not falling for that trick, Sweetheart.” It’s odd to hear the nickname without the prefix Ms. in front of it, or without a sneer in his voice. It’s kind, comforting, dare you even venture…a term of endearment? “You tell me you don’t want anything, and then you end up eating half of what I pick. Nope, you’re getting your own.”

“Fine, fine,” you roll your eyes playfully, eventually settling on a blueberry muffin. Eddie’s coffee order is the same as yours, but he gets a chocolate chunk cookie with his. He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, worn and frayed around the edges, and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, leaving a remaining dollar in the colorful jar marked ‘Tips��.

You grab the plated pastries and Eddie shuffles behind with the coffee mugs, gently placing them on the counter next to the silver thermoses and baskets of sugar packets. You pour a bit of milk into yours, watching in amusement as Eddie dumps some of the coffee into the trashcan, filling the mug with half & half and tearing open three Domino packets.

“You want some coffee with that sugar bomb?” you gently tease, and he flicks your shoulder with a dramatic pout on his lips.

“I’d rather this than whatever bitter concoction you’re drinking,” he retorts, taking an exaggerated sip from his mug and punctuating it with an aaaahhh.

You roll your eyes. “You really should be grateful that I like bitter things. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t like you.” Your response earns you another flick to the shoulder before Eddie brings the drinks to a table tucked away in the corner.

You set the cookie in front of him and the muffin at your spot across from him, pulling a crumb from the side and popping it in your mouth. The sweetness of the pastry with the slightly sour berry is heaven on your tongue.

“‘S good?” Eddie asks, smiling brightly when you nod your head. “Wanna try a bite of mine?” He breaks off a piece, and a smattering of crumbs fall to the table. You expect him to place the piece in your hand; instead, he leans over and brings it to your lips. His fingertips brush against them, parting them ever-so-slightly. An electric buzz hums down your spine, and you wonder if he feels it, too.

You’re careful not to let your tongue graze his fingers as you take the chocolate-flecked dessert into your mouth. Eddie, however, is in no rush. He lingers, slowly moving the rough pads of his fingers across your soft lips. In doing so, he wipes away rogue remnants of the cookie he just fed you, though you strongly doubt that that was his intention.

“Here, try mine.” You pinch off a piece of the muffin, a bit bigger than the piece you took for yourself, and bring it to him. His lips close around the very tips of your thumb and forefinger where you’re holding the bite of muffin. You feel the brief flicker of his tongue, gone before you can even process it, taking the muffin piece with it.

“Not bad,” Eddie says with a grin. “I don’t usually like fruit in my dessert, but I’d make an exception for that. Could definitely use some more chocolate, though.” As if to illustrate his sentiment, he takes a comically large bite of his cookie.

“One of these days, I’ll get you to eat a vegetable.” You mean it as a joke, a ribbing towards his poor eating habits, but it implies that you’ll stick around. That you care about him. You’re unclear about how he interpreted your statement, so you quickly change the subject before he can think about it. “I do have a question for you. Completely unrelated to the lack of nutrients in your diet.”

Eddie ignores the teasing jab and takes another bite of cookie. “Shoot.”

“The, uh, lock-picking kit,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your nerves calm. “Do you just keep them laying around?” You hate the idea of him using it to commit break-ins. If that was the truth, would he even admit it to you?

But Eddie just laughs, sipping his barely-coffee with a knowing smirk. “When Harris was about two, Wayne was watching him. He left for a second to grab the mail and the little stinker locked him out.”

“Out of the trailer?!” you ask incredulously, jaw dropping in shock.

“Out of the trailer,” Eddie confirms, shaking his head as though he still can’t believe it himself. “So, yeah. Ever since that happened, I’ve kept a lock-picking kit in my car.” He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. He drums his fingertips on the table as he says, “Tell me about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Eddie accentuates his request with a quick poke of your hand before returning his grip to the mug handle. “Like, how did you end up being the one schlepping out to Hawkins to take care of Grandma?”

You shrug and bring the hot cup to your lips, letting the steam tickle your nose before you drink. “She and I were always really close, and teaching is a job that’s everywhere. It was just easier for me to pick up and move, I guess.”

Eddie pauses, nodding as he considers his next question. He rubs his palm back and forth on the side of his mug; there’s an air of nervousness around him. “Tell me about her. Grandma, I mean. Like, how she was before she got sick.”

“Where do I start?” It’s strange, you think, the way memories work. Sometimes it seems like the more Grandma forgets, the more you remember. You’ll just be lesson planning, or hurriedly making photocopies at work, or heating up leftovers in the microwave, and a memory will crash over you. Suddenly, you’re plucked from reality and transported to Benny’s Diner where you and she used to split a giant stack of pancakes. Or to the shoe store where she’d buy you a new pair of sneakers every August before the start of the new school year. “She just loved taking care of people. Cooking for them or cheering them up. She wasn’t the type of person to tell you to stop crying when you’d get upset, y’know? She’d sit there with you, rub your back, and let you get all the tears out.” You muster a wistful smile in a paltry attempt to hide the shame blooming in your chest. “It’s all so fucked, the way I talk about her like she’s gone when she’s still here.”

“No.” Eddie’s voice is soft yet adamant. “I don’t think it’s fucked at all. Because, I dunno, it’s like she’s not here, in a way. Physically, yeah; but almost like…” He stops himself to avoid speaking out of turn and making a fool of himself.

“Like she’s a shell of who she used to be,” you finish for him, and relief floods his body when you understand the point he’s trying to make.

He nods. “Exactly.” He smooths his ponytail reflexively. “I think you’re a lot like her. How she was, anyway. The way you’re always looking out for people, like…let’s say…a bitter wannabe rockstar and his adorable yet mischievous son?”

“That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time.” It’s all you want, really–to spread joy and kindness to others, filling in gaps that have remained empty for so long that they seemingly go unnoticed. “Maybe ever, actually.”

Good, Eddie wants to say. He wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, each one kinder than the last, until you’re utterly flustered. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject and asks, “What made you wanna be a teacher?”

This is a much easier question for you to answer. “I just love seeing kids learn,” you beam. “Being able to do things they couldn’t do before; things they never thought they’d be able to do.”

He returns your smile easily; something about hearing you speak about your profession with such gratification has him buzzing.“Speaking of which,” he says, sneaking a mouthful of cookie between words, “I took Harris to the supermarket yesterday. And when we passed by the seafood section, he points to a sign, sounds out cuh-ahh-d, and goes, ‘that says cod!’”

“That’s incredible! Look at our little reader go!” You could jump out of your seat with excitement, held back only by the desire to not go overboard in your display of enthusiasm.

Eddie nods in agreement. “I was so proud, I damn near bought all of the candy in the store.” He cocks his head, amusement tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “Any idea where he learned how to read like that?”

“Not a clue.” You try to force a deadpan expression to reinforce the sarcasm in your remark, but your happiness betrays you in the form of a giggle. You clap a hand over your mouth, but he reaches out to pull it down, keeping your fingers clasped with his.

He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, watching the digit sweep back and forth for a moment. “You really are pretty, y’know.” The admission feels like a weight has been both removed from and added to his shoulders. Now you know how he feels, but now you know how he feels.

You, meanwhile, are far less fixated on his vulnerability and focus instead on his phrasing. The opportunity has presented itself so perfectly, and you have to seize it.

“Like a princess?” Your eyes gleam with playfulness.

“Wha–oh, Christ.” Eddie’s features shift from confusion to embarrassment over the span of a second. “What did that kid tell you?”

“Not a lot,” you say nonchalantly, taking an innocent swig of coffee. It’s cooled down considerably, but you’ve never been one to let a drop of caffeine go to waste. “Just that you think I’m ‘pretty like a princess.’”

Eddie uses his free hand to rub his eyes, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the lids. “What a little snitch.”

“It’s true, then?” You perch your chin in your hand, batting your eyelashes and reveling in his awkwardness. His cheeks flush red and a nervous chuckle splices the silence between you.

“To be fair,” he finally counters, trying to gather his thoughts before they scatter again, “I was asked if I thought you were pretty like a princess. I didn’t, like, come up with that on my own.”

You purse your lips into a pout, feigning disappointment. “So you don’t think I’m pretty like a princess?”

“N-No, you are!” He takes a deep breath and composes himself as he notices you trying to hold in your laughter. “All right, which would you prefer? We talking trading your fins for legs or losing your glass slipper at a ball?”

“Neither,” you chide, scratching at the base of your neck absentmindedly. “More like…bookworm who rescues people in need no matter what the personal cost and captures the heart of the town outcast.” You hope that he doesn’t take offense to that last part, as true as it might be.

“So…Belle?” Eddie chuckles when you raise your eyebrows at him. “What? I have a little ankle biter, I know Disney movies.”

“Harris would never bite your ankles,” you scoff, grinning at the mere thought of the littlest Munson gnawing at the bottom of his dad’s legs mid-tantrum. “He’d just lock you out of the house until he gets what he wants.”

Eddie lifts his half-drank cup of coffee. “I’ll drink to that,” he agrees, and you gently knock your mug into his. The porcelain rims make a slight clink as they touch, echoes muffled by the chipped edges.

“So,” you start, allowing yourself to swim in his deep brown eyes for a beautiful moment before you pivot the conversation. “Why did you move to Chicago? Why not, like, LA or New York?”

He shrugs, wiping the residue of a coffee mustache from his upper lip. “Guess I wanted to stay kinda close to home. In case something happened to Wayne, or the music thing didn’t work out, or,” he smiles wryly, “if I knocked up a groupie and needed help raising a newborn.”

You press your lips together to stifle a giggle of your own, careful not to smudge whatever’s left of the lipstick you meticulously applied earlier. “So you moved back after Harris was born?”

“Yeah, when he was about…” Eddie silently does the math in his head, “a month old? Six weeks, maybe? When I realized that the whole ‘parenting’ thing is a hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially doing it alone.” He drops his voice to a whisper as though he’s about to divulge a great secret. “Did you know that babies wake up, like, every half hour?”

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is thickly woven into your tone. “Tell me more, Dr. Spock.”

Eddie snatches the muffin from your plate and takes an unprompted bite in retaliation. He chews like a cow on cud, slow and deliberate, relishing in his baked good thievery. You watch, unblinking, as a smirk crosses his face. “All right, smartass,” he snorts once he finally swallows, “not all of us specialize in taking care of kids.” He breaks off a hunk of his cookie and leaves it on your plate, a delicious peace offering that you gladly accept. “Anyway, Wayne let us stay with him until I found a place. Took a while to build up some funds, but I finally managed.”

“Where were you working?”

His face blanches at your question, and he finds himself inclined to bunch the paper napkin into a ball and shove it in his mouth to avoid answering. “Wh-What?”

“You said you had to build up some funds,” you explain, as though it were a convoluted construct. “Were you at the music store back then?”

“Oh, um. No.” Quicksand. Volcano eruption. A piano falling from the sky like in a classic Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote showdown. Eddie would’ve taken any of these options over giving you an answer. “I went back to my old high school gig of, uh, dealing.” His cheeks are beet red, the heat radiating from them is the only distraction from the shame curdling in his lungs.

He keeps his eyes on the floor; to his surprise, your feet remain planted on the ground. You’re not leaving. “Oh.” Your voice draws him back to reality. “But you don’t…”

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m totally done with that scene. It’s just minimum wage, on-the-books bullshit for me now. I even pay taxes.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “Although…the manager is transferring to another store soon.”

You slam your hands on the table in excitement, eyes alight with joy at this new opportunity for him. “Eddie, you have to apply!” Your eagerness fades when you notice the frown on his face. Shit, did he think you were telling him what to do? “I’m sorry if–”

“Nah, you’re good.” He bites his thumbnail without thinking, withdrawing it from between his front teeth when he sees you watching him. “‘S not like I haven’t considered it. Just feels like…if I do that, I’m officially giving up on the whole rockstar dream. Like I’m closing that chapter of my life.”

This time, you’re the one who holds onto him. His palm is pressed flat on the Formica table, and you bring your fingers underneath it to scoop his hand into yours. You give it a quick squeeze, watching a delicate smile develop across his lips. “Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? You’re not giving up on anything; you’re just shifting your priorities to make sure that Harris is always number one.” He nods halfheartedly, but you continue. “And you can always get back into music, find another band, or…maybe even make up with the Corroded Coffin guys?”

Eddie sighs, taking a strand of hair that’s fallen from its rubber band enclosure and tucking it behind his right ear. “Yeah. Maybe.” He doesn’t quite believe it; not after the terrible things he said to Jeff. Not after Gareth said he doesn’t look up to him anymore. A Corroded Coffin reunion seems about as likely as Wayne becoming a Radio City Rockette. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze back to you. “This is, uh, not first date conversation.”

You laugh at this, nodding in agreement. “No, it most certainly isn’t.” You use your free hand to take a final swig of coffee, now on the cooler side of lukewarm. “But I don’t think you and I have done anything conventionally, so it seems to be par for the course.”

Eddie shifts in his seat to lean in closer. He’s heard your response, but he’s not accepting it. Just because things began backwards didn’t mean they had to continue that way. “Tell me about you,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun? Like, hobbies and stuff.”

Your mind goes blank, as though you’ve never enjoyed any activity in your life. “Hmm,” you ponder, trying to remember a moment that wasn’t spent lesson planning or breaking up big arguments between small humans or taking care of an elderly woman who couldn’t stand you half the time. “I really love to cook,” you finally manage, thinking of the hours when you and Grandma stood in her kitchen, preparing meals or snacks or baked goods to munch on.

“No shit!” Eddie blurts out, eyes widening. “I really love to eat.”

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime,” you tell him. Surprisingly, you’re not shy when you say it. The image of you standing before the stove, stirring a pot on a burner or taking a tray of roasted vegetables from the oven while Eddie and Harris set the kitchen table, warms you from the inside out. You express your love by making meals for others, just like Grandma does. Did. “Your favorite food is olives, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his seat. He opens his legs slightly as he bites the inside of his lower lip to hide his smile. “I hate you sometimes, y’know that?”

“Yeah, I hate you, too.”

As soon as you and Eddie step out of the little cafe hand in hand, the bitter slap of winter is all-consuming. Snow flurries flutter to the ground, melting as soon as they touch the faded green grass. The coldness of the flakes stings the tip of your nose, and you wiggle it to try to ward off the impending numbness.

Eddie breaks the connection to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one pocket and his lighter from the other. He flicks the switch a few times before it finally catches as he shields the flame from the harsh winds. As soon as it does, he tucks the lighter away and immediately re-laces his left fingers with your right, taking a long drag and offering it out to you with a grin.

“Since you’re just a social smoker and don’t keep any on you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. You wonder how he could possibly know this until memories of that fateful night at the Hideout come roaring back to you. You and Eddie standing outside, making painfully awkward small talk while you figured out how to initiate a sexual encounter.

You inhale, letting the tobacco mingle with the taste of coffee and muffin already saturating your tongue, and pass the cigarette back to him. It’s a slow walk to his car; the two of you take your time as you breathe in smoke and each other’s closeness. Eddie lets you kill out the cigarette, eyes never leaving your body as you stub it into a nearby ashtray.

“I have a little confession to make,” he begins, quickly amending his statement when he catches the horrified expression on your face. “No, nothing bad; I swear!” He laughs lightly when you exhale, pressing your hand to your heart in relief. “Okay, the reason I took you out for coffee is because, well, I figured if things went well, I’d know your coffee order and could bring it to you at work or something? Like when I drop Harris off in the morning.”

The early December chill dissipates at his offer. Just the thought of Eddie memorizing your coffee order, handing you the styrofoam cup with a chaste kiss to your cheek so that none of your students or co-workers can catch you, fills you with a buzzing warmth. “I’d really like that.”

“Good,” Eddie nods, stopping at his parked car. You spot Harris’s carseat in the back, reminding you of the night Eddie drove you to his place after his show. The way he tried to hide the existence of his son from you, as though it would deter you from pursuing anything further. You can’t help but wonder how many women had turned him down after learning that he’s a dad. It has to be a decent amount, a pattern that developed, for him to become so jaded and guarded over it.

His calloused thumb ghosts over your cheek, though you can hardly feel it after being exposed to the stinging air. His gaze meets yours and he holds it, chocolate orbs fueling the fire within you.

“Feels weird asking to kiss you after we’ve already…” he trails off with a chuckle, tone laced with ambivalence. The last time he’d pressed his lips to yours, he didn’t want to stop, which scared the living shit out of him. And that was under the pretense of casual sex, not intended to go any farther than a one-night stand. But now? Now he was about to kiss you after a date, after telling you that you look pretty, after admitting that planned to get you coffee in the mornings.

If he kisses you now, there’s no going back.He’s sealing the deal, opening himself up to heartbreak, the potential to be crushed when the relationship comes to a screeching halt.

But, he reminds himself silently, it also means someone to watch movies with. Someone to buy flowers–or coffee–for. Someone to hold, to touch. Someone to share stories with, from the mundane tasks of the day to big, exciting news. Someone who I could love, who could love me and my boy.

“Eddie?” Your voice breaks into his mind, overrun with racing thoughts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of falling in–

You bring your lips to his, effectively silencing his inner monologue. His right hand stays on your face as his left grips your waist to return the kiss, deepening it with a gentle prod of his tongue. It’s wanting, but not hungry, like he’s savoring every last bite of a long-time craving. He wants this, he wants you, forever. He swears he’d never let you go if he didn’t have an oversugared, overtired four-year-old to attend to.

“You are…” he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours, but he has no idea how to end the sentence. Perfect? Mine? The one for me? “...the best.” It feels like a cop-out, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. The irony is not lost on him that he had no problem spewing insults at you, but hesitates when it comes to affection.

“The best coffee date?” you tease, resting your hands on his chest. The sweater’s scratchy wool itches your palms, and you can’t imagine he’ll make it ten steps through the door before changing into one of his signature band tees.

“Yes. No. Yes.” He kisses your nose, an electric spark flying between you. “But also just…the best.” His fingers clasp around the door handle as he begrudgingly opens your door, not wanting the date to end. “Shall I take you home?”

No, you think, biting back your protest. No, take me to your place. Kiss me more, kiss me deeper, kiss me where the curve of my hips meets the plush of my thighs. Let me help you with your sweater; you’ll be so much more comfortable without it, Eddie.

“Okay,” you manage, sliding into your seat. He closes the door once you’re inside, jogging around to his side with a breathy chuckle.

“Gotta keep warm,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and as soon as he’s out of his parking spot, he takes your hand once again. Your intertwined fingers rest atop the gearshift for the entire drive to your building.

He turns off the car and faces you. “Let me walk you in.” Five simple words that ordinarily would preface sex; Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever uttered them in that order without at least the anticipation of getting laid. But there’s none of that now. He just wants to spend as much time with you as he can, before the spell is broken and he turns back into a pumpkin. Could the prince turn back into the Beast? he wonders wryly.

You cock your brow. “You sure about that? What if Grandma’s gotten herself into more trouble?”

“I’m willing to take that risk.” And he is. He’d risk everything, and for the first time in a long while, he’s not running from that feeling.

Luckily, there’s no crisis when you and Eddie arrive on your doorstep. You trade a few more giggle-laced kisses before you finally part.

The stars align on Monday morning, with Harris actually cooperating and getting ready with enough time for Eddie to stop off at the cafe to get your coffee. Okay, letting him have a Pop-Tart for breakfast instead of cereal definitely helped the situation, but it was a special occasion! And it’s not like he could tell Harris that he needed to pick up coffee for Ms. Sweetheart; the kid would be hiring caterers for a wedding if he knew.

Eddie had wanted to call you on Sunday, maybe see if you wanted to go to the playground with him and Harris and get some ice cream afterwards, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Give it some time; don’t be too eager.

It occurs to him that bringing you coffee is something that a boyfriend would do, and he hasn’t actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Do adults do that? Or is it just kinda implied? Shit, maybe I can take her out again this weekend and ask, just to be sure.

He gives Harris a hug and a kiss goodbye, careful not to spill any of the hot beverage as he crouches down to his height. Jitters course through his veins as he approaches your classroom, but he knows that the joy on your face–either from his kind gesture or the prospect of caffeine–will make it all worth it.

When he gets there, he only sees Will. He can’t stick around long; he doubts his boss will accept trying to impress my maybe-girlfriend as a valid excuse for tardiness.

“Hey, Byers,” Eddie calls out with a wave, pointing to the cup. “I’m just gonna leave this on her desk, if that’s cool.” He spots a black Sharpie and is about to use it to write Date night on Friday? when he catches Will’s expression. It’s a combination of confusion and sadness, with his brows pinching together as he walks over to Eddie.

Will shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Um, she’s not coming in today. Probably not for the rest of the week.”

“Is she okay?” Worry mars Eddie’s confidence, and the sense of dread only worsens when Will quietly ushers him to the corner of the room away from the kids. “Is she sick or something?” he adds once the students are out of earshot. Will looks up at Eddie, though the height gap has decreased considerably since he was a freshman and Eddie was working through his third senior year. His eyes are shiny with tears, and he blinks them back and clears his throat. “Eddie…” he says softly, “her grandma died last night.”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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strawberry-cowmilk · 1 year ago

Text

marriage with the brothers

-> brothers x mc

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: some crying and screaming

-----

Lucifer

he has no specific preferences, anything you want, he wants to have at the wedding unless it's something extremely hard to achieve

lucifer was a little worried but everything before the wedding ceremony went according to plan

the average person might not have noticed it, but he teared up a little when you were saying your vows (diavolo noticed too)

Mammon

at first he probably wanted something at the wedding that's basically impossible to arrange safely, but he changed his mind

now he's happy as long as he gets to marry his precious mc

right before the ceremony mammon probably lost a shoe or something only for it to be in his hand

also he cried after you officially became his spouse

Leviathan

he doesn't want a huge wedding, just your close family and friends are enough guests

also it's most definitely in an indoor location, he doesn't need to risk having bad weather on the day

and levi thought he'd be extremely nervous the whole time but he wasn't, he thinks that's because he loves you so much and trusts everything will be okay with you at his side (he also put that in his vows)

Satan

satan wants an indoor wedding, that's literally his only actual preference

and as long as the scene doesn't look like the fall on new year's eve he's fine with anything

one time you gifted him some socks with little cats on them, guess which pair of socks he is wearing to the wedding

if you're planning a honeymoon too he'd prefer somewhere quiet and peaceful, like maybe a little cabin in a forest

Asmodeus

everything needs to be as close to perfect as possible (asmo screamed at solomon for a whole hour because he got the wrong color napkins)

he likely wants a big wedding, preferably outside and during a warm season

also the cake was very pretty, almost nobody dared to touch it

asmo held your hand for the rest of the party after you were officially married

Beelzebub

beel literally doesn't care about where or when it is, he just wants to be your husband

you could get married in a basement 5 minutes after getting engaged and he'd be happy

picking out a single cake flavor was a hard choice though

beel also cried during the ceremony, but he's never wearing any facial expression other than a smile ever again after it's over

Belphegor

belphie doesn't have hard demands other than maybe wanting to get married indoors

literally the night before the wedding he was so nervous he had trouble sleeping

his twin was with him the whole time he was preparing for the ceremony (if beel noticed a single piece of dust on belphie he'd get the lint roller)

he tells you 'thank you for marrying me :)' a lot afterwards

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #gn!mc #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #belphegor obey me #beelzebub obey me

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 6 months ago

Text

Guilty As Sin

Batter Up Chapter 6

!!! This takes place After Chapter 2, when reader and Joel's relationship was still a secret. !!!

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What if Joel did in fact write MINE on your upper thigh when the two of you sneak away from your friend's wedding? Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, bondage, a singular ass slap, neck tie turning into a gag, Joel's got a dirty mouth,spot the Taylor Swift lyrics in my writing, panties are getting ripped off. Words: 3,030

A/N: Baseball Joel is back. Thank you for being so patient with me during my hiatus. I've had this fic rattling in my brain since I heard "Guilty As Sin" by Taylor... and I may have been in feral mode while writing this. This can be read alone, without knowing most of the story of Batter Up.

Masterlist Series Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Blake Velasco, the Capitals’ celebrated third baseman is finally marrying his longtime partner, and your friend, Gemma. You tell yourself you flew in for her, but really you’re here to see one of Blake’s groomsmen… Joel. You’ve been dreading today, your first official outing as a couple and nobody knows.

The two lovebirds really went all out for their December wedding. Crystal covered snowflakes hang from the rafters glitter in the flickering candle light, urns of white roses fill every extra space, golden and white tones fill the opulent mansion.

Soft orchestral music begins, your skin instantly heats at the realization you’ll soon see Joel. Internally fighting and cursing every urge to turn in your seat and wait for the first sight of your boyfriend, you’re finding it hard to keep your cool. The procession begins, heartbeats begin skipping beats once you spot the same curls you like to tug hanging low against his neck. His longer offseason hair is slicked back, wide shoulders hugged perfectly by his form fitting black tuxedo. You can’t look away from his broadness walking down the aisle.

Joel takes his place at the altar, the whole room dissolves around him. He searches for you, a perfunctory nod sent your parents' way turns into a smug smile once he spots you. His eyes crinkle in the corners, the same creases that show themselves whenever he’s closing his eyes in bliss appearing. He’s so debonair, all dressed up in his tuxedo, you want to wrap the silk black tie around your hand and pull him closer.

You’re sure he can tell how he’s affecting you. Helplessly trying to focus elsewhere, your eyes attempt to roam the room before staring at the chandelier above and bracing yourself for the next half hour of trying not to look at Joel standing tall and striking only three rows away. You look towards him, he’s still staring at you, a whimper chokes out. You brush a pretend piece of lint off your dress trying to cover your audible slip up catching your mom’s attention. She leans over and asks if you’re okay, you give her a weak smile and nod. Joel’s eyes still watch you, an imperceptible wink sent your way. Relief soothes your tenseness once the bridal procession begins. This is going to be awful.

___

Swaying trees twinkle in the wind, fairy lights cascade down the branches, the shining orbs glow all around you, you wish they could warm you. It’s too damn cold. You just had to choose the tight gold dress only held together in the back by thin straps? You really had to forget your shawl in the reception? Sure, you wanted Joel to untie and unwrap you tonight, but now you wonder if it was all worth it... stuck shrouded in darkness behind the gazebo. Your teeth chitter, hands trying to rub warmth into your limbs while waiting for Joel to finally meet you far away from the picturesque mansion.

You can just make out the loud music playing mostly drowned out by the raucous shouting of the party attendees. Your phone buzzes in your hand. Sorry, stuck talking, be out ASAP. You thumbs up Joel’s text and roll your eyes. Since when did he like talking? It’s been ten minutes and you’re freezing and frustrated. Joel’s teammates, your parents, and your friends are all in that far away house. Nobody has any clue about your tryst.

He’s been in your proximity all day, the two of you trading as many quick glances you can afford, a rush sent to your heart every time your eyes meet. Looking at him’s like playing with fire, you just can’t help yourself even though you burn yourself each time. He’s ridiculously handsome and he’s been driving you insane all day.

Your wet core aches and you haven’t even touched him.

Joel Miller in a suit consumes your thoughts all day. Conversations flow around you, contrition and lust warring in your brain. It’s impossible pretending to listen to whatever story or joke people keep droning on about while he stands only a few feet away. Your nerves work overtime thinking everyone can plainly see all the fantasies in your head. Propriety in these situations always came easy to you, but today you’re suffering, longing for your boyfriend.

Looking up at the stars twinkling above you, you sigh, at least it’s a clear night.

A warm weight pushes against your back, Joel’s arms wrap around you, a large hand splaying against your stomach while the other rests across your breast bone. You’re instantly warmed.

“Sorry baby, got caught up ‘n had to sneak out without anybody seeing,” he inhales your scent. “You look fucking amazing, it’s been so hard to stay away from you.”

He pushes you harder against him, the shape of his half hard cock rubs against your ass.

“Been having to adjust myself all fuckin’ night because of you in that dress, feel like I’m being haunted.”

His hands cup the weight of your silk draped breasts, his breath is hot against your neck when he kisses it.

“We should probably find a safer place, anyone who looks hard enough could probably see us,” you groan.

“I know a place, slipped an usher a couple hundred.”

___

Joel leads you down a path back towards the house staying in the shadows of the outskirts of the yard, he confidently navigates the maze of hedges ahead of you. A dark building stands alone and quiet, perfect for the two of you.

Joel punches in a code on the door lock and opens it. Trepidation enters when you realize exactly what you’re doing. Sneaking into the guest house of the rented mega mansion your friends got married in to fuck your boyfriend that they, and everyone else, have no clue about. You’ve never been religious, but you feel like a sinner.

“Is this okay to do?” the contrition begins to rear its head.

“It is baby, paid off a couple more members of the staff too. Cost me a couple grand.”

He leers at you like he’s a wolf and you’re the prey, he wants this.

“Jesus Joel!”

“It’ll be worth it.”

He crowds and pushes you in before kicking the door shut.

“Lock it,” you breathe.

You’ve been caged up all night, now he’s here with you, his mouth on your neck. It’s time to crack the locks. You turn, crashing against him, hiking up your dress and wrapping a leg around him to rub your core against the soft fabric of his suit.

Your kisses are rushed and messy, moans floating in between your already labored breaths.

“Fuck,” Joel pulls away, his eyes blown out with lust. “Turn back around baby, once I saw the straps of your dress, I had an idea.”

You follow his directions, turning quickly, heels wobbling on your shaky knees as he runs his fingers up your exposed spine.

“This dress is something baby, love these delicate little strings all over your back.” He begins to untie the threads criss-crossing your back. “S’like you’re my own little present.” His fingers are quick and precise, chills shoot up your spine at his touch. “Turn back around baby.” You face him, dress falling to your hips. A mischievous glint in his eyes sparkles as he holds up two thin strips of silk.

“What’s your plan?” Your heart shatters against your chest when he arches his eyebrows and licks his lips.

“M’gonna tie you up ’n take you right here in this guest house while everyone we know is just across the yard. You good with that?”

Your mouth drops, uttering a pathetic yes, your cunt aching with anticipation.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel grabs a marker off the counter top. “Now, they told me there’s a bedroom to the left.”

___

“Well, would you look at that? Gold sheets to match your pretty silk dress,” Joel chuckles. “Of course they have a four poster bed in their guest house, some people are too rich for their own good.”

A light push lands you amongst the soft sheets. Joel takes in your flushed cheeks, parted lips, and gold dress sitting askew definitely too wrinkled for its own good.

He hangs his jacket on the chair back, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. The sheets feel velvety smooth, you can’t keep still.

Joel grabs your foot, easily turning your body around, the silk of your dress slides across the satin sheets.

“Stretch your arms like this, baby,” Joel makes a T-pose to demonstrate.

You follow his direction.

“That’s my good girl.”

He straddles you, a bit of his weight placed against your stomach, his thick thighs strain in the black pants, your mouth waters at his closeness. He picks up a wrist, tying the string around you and the bed poster before doing the same for your other wrist. He tugs on both, smiling when they barely move.

“They feel good baby?”

“Perfect. I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Me neither, but I think we’re going to like it.”

He runs a hand down to your bra, effortlessly snapping the front hooks open. You blink in awe at the size of him taking up so much space on this king sized bed.

He runs a hand down your face, pausing at your lips, dipping his thumb in to cover it in saliva. His thumb leaves a trail of wet down your chin and neck to your breast, circling your nipple before pinching it. You attempt to buck your hips at the sensation but you’re met with resistance from his weight. Both of Joel’s hands grab your tits, deep brown eyes getting darker when he watches himself push them together.

“Look how perfect your tits fit in my hands. Perfect fucking size, so fucking smooth and pretty. It’s like they were made for me.”

Joel scoots back, now straddling your legs and pushes your dress up to rest against your stomach. He whistles a low note, taking in your soaked panties.

“Baby, you’ve made a mess down here, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and nod.

“I’ll clean you up because this is my pussy and I gotta keep it in good shape, don’t I darlin’?”

“Yes,” you coo, another gush releases against the silk of your panties.

“Because this pussy is mine, right baby?”

“Fuck,” you howl, body begining to quiver under his attention. “Yes Joel, all yours.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Just because all those people in that house can’t see it, everyone knows, right baby? You’ll always be mine.”

“Oh my god, yes, I’m only yours.” “Perfect.”

Joel reaches into his pocket, pulling a black Sharpie out and uncapping it. He looks up for approval, you frantically nod wanting to find out the mystery.

The marker tip is placed against your upper thigh, the ink is cool against your searing skin. You lift your head up to watch Joel.

M-I-N-E is written on your upper thigh.

Your head slips back down against the pillows overwhelmed by the way Joel licks his lips while staring at his inscription against your skin. He caps the marker, placing it back in his pocket before laying down between your legs, stretching your thighs wide to fit him.

Nuzzling his head in between your thighs, his mouth rests against your drenched panties. The sight must look so depraved, Joel’s almost fully dressed inhaling your scent with his nose nestled in between the divide of your folds as you writhe underneath him, your hands tied to a stranger’s bed. He grabs the seam of your flimsy silk underwear and tears them off, you’d chastise him if you weren’t so fucking ready to feel his mouth against you right now.

“You’re mine baby, forever,” his fudgy brown eyes gaze into yours when his tongue darts out and licks a long stripe up your aching pussy.

He groans against your drenched cunt, lapping up all of the slick you’ve spilled out through the day. Your hands tighten against the restraints when he sucks your clit in the perfect way he always does. A thick finger circles your entrance, his tongue slowly teases your clit, both cause you to drown in satisfaction. You love how he looks in between your legs, his strong nose bumping against your skin, dark eyes focused on your face.

Your hips begin grinding against his face when he sticks another finger in, his biceps stretch across the white dress shirt with his movements. In, out, in, out, his two thick fingers fuck you, his lush mouth still adoring your clit with every lick and suck.

The silk ties pull at your wrists, your fingers dig into your palm, the buildup of watching handsome Joel Miller at a wedding made you ache all day, and now he’s here eating your pussy. You’re so overwhelmed by him, his love, his adoration, his fucking perfect mouth. Your orgasm rolls through you, your cunt rides the wave of pleasure against his mouth, grinding into his gorgeous face.

He doesn’t let up, a third finger is pushed inside, his tongue traverses every dip, fold, and nerve. He pulls his fingers out and rests them against your aching entrance before burying them right back in. You shout his name over and over, chants of Joel screams across the room.

He pulls away.

“Baby, you gotta quiet down,” Joel’s face covered in your juices pulls a raucous moan out of you. “Baaaaaby,” he chastises, hand flying up to pull his tie apart. He balls the tie in his hand before stuffing it into your mouth. “Quiet.”

You moan around the tie, biting down on it hard, shaking and aching as another climax splinters you. Your vision turns just as black as the tie currently packed in your mouth. Your arms burn as they strain against the ties, your legs locking straight.

“That’s it, baby, I’m fucking drowning in you,” Joel’s voice brings you back down. Your eyes open to him licking his top lip, tasting and savoring you.

He pulls the tie from your mouth.

“I love you,” you weakly whisper, shattered by him yet again.

“Love you too baby,” Joel places a kiss against your makeshift MINE tattoo before climbing up your body and untying your restraints.

He kisses each wrist as you shake them out.

“You good baby?”

“Of course I am,” you smile.

His thumb rubs your cheek, a doting look sits across his features. He still resembles the perfect picture of a formal man, shirt still buttoned, hair still perfectly placed, the only sign of any mischief being his missing suit jacket and sleeves pulled up to his elbows… until you notice his erection bulging his zipper out.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know what.”

“Oh,” Joel clutches his crotch in his large hand. “This, baby? Well, since you’re mine, I’m going to fill you with my cum and make you even more mine. Now, turn over.”

Your head rests against the silk pillow, heart beginning to race hearing the unzip of Joel’s dress pants. Your legs are pulled apart before he covers you in his weight, the cool cotton of his shirt brushes against your overheated skin.

His cock nudges between your legs, you adjust to allow him full entrance. Joel slowly pushes in, his arms framing your head settling fully above you. His deep exhale hits the back of your neck.

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” sprawls from him.

“Hmph– oooooh,” a conceited retort is interrupted when Joel buries himself in you.

“You feel so fucking good, been needing to fuck you since I saw you, sitting all pretty at the ceremony then watching you twirl on that dance floor, you’re so fucking gorgeous, still can’t believe you’re mine.”

Your bodies rock together, his big cock filling you, you’re engulfed by Joel. It’s delightful.

“Mine,” his hoarse whisper ghosts against your ear before he tugs against it with his teeth.

The tempo of his thrusts rises, your cunt gladly accepting the volume.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re mine, aren’t you? Only mine. Tell me,” he grunts.

“I’m… I-I’m yours, all yours,” squeals pathetically from your mouth, muffled by the pillow.

Each snap of his hips against your ass sears so heatedly, you fear the bed sheets will be set ablaze.

He rolls against the exact spot that amplifies your soul, a chorus of bliss strums through you. Symphonic ecstasy ripples overwhelming you, eyes squeezing shut, mouth screaming into the fluffy pillow. Your pussy flutters against his cock cramming your hole, the two of you entwined in a duet you’ll never tire of.

Your head turns, lungs panting for air, whimpers yelping across the room as he rides your orgasming pussy, composing the melody of his own burgeoning orgasm.

His hips stutter, the rhythm getting lost at the crescendo of his climax.

Your name is moaned out, large hands gripping into your shoulders, his broad body collapses against you, briefly smothering you before rolling off.

A quick smack stamps against your ass.

“Mine,” Joel growls.

___

The mirror reflects someone who looks freshly fucked, Joel, on the other hand still looks flawless, his suit jacket already applied. He winks at your reflection while he efficiently knots his tie.

“I get to go back now with no underwear, my hair’s a mess, and your cum is still leaking out of me, thanks. Hope everyone just thinks I’m drunk.”

He laughs a booming laugh, before kissing the top of your hair. “Anytime baby.”

Joel throws a stack of cash from his jacket on to the table before adjusting his tie, the smooth texture so obviously disfigured by your bite marks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you hug him tightly.

“Tomorrow. I love you.” He sandwiches your chin between his fingers, placing one last kiss against your mouth. “Go have fun, I’ll be watching.”

“Love you too,” you breathily sigh, adjusting your wrinkled dress and heading for the door, with the final obstacle ahead… convincing all of your loved ones inebriated by the open bar that you’ve been there the whole time.

“Miiiine,” he sing songs through the closing door.

Guilty as sin.

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #baseball au

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astaroth1357 · 2 years ago

Note

That 'Realistic' Summoning act was done very amazingly, it all seems like summoning them is something you should do when you're smart and at the very end of your rope.

Is it alright if we ask how things differ if MC summons them?

Or if a Witch has MC with them for the summoning? (Either as a Friend Way or they Kidnapped them, whatever you feel like you would want to talk about :3

And if not that's fine too!

It's always a joy reading your stuff! )

Ooooh, I like the way you think! 😌

Why MC Can't Have Witch Friends

Building off of my Summoning Headcanons here.

Contents: MC has "Main Character Syndrome" and is always the exception to the rule... most of the time. Very LONG post (because I didn't want to post like three then deal with requests for all of the rest. My inbox still scares me lol)

Scenario: While training in more advanced magic with Solomon, MC made a normal witch friend as a study buddy/fellow intern! Comedy ensures.

~♡♡♡~

MC Summoning Lucifer

*it's 2am on a Wednesday but MC and their witch buddy are just now leaving their alchemy laboratory after cramming for another one of Solomon's tests. Much to their dismay, they see it's raining outside, with water just pelting the pavement outside the windows*

Witch: Seriously?? This wasn’t in the forecast this morning!

MC: *glares at the droplet-coated glass then glances down at the books in their hands* You gotta be kidding...! If I get these tomes wet, Solomon'll kill me...

Witch: That's true, but I mean it's not that bad. I think I know a spell or two that could... Wait, what are you doing...?

*the MC looks away from the phone they were furiously texting on as their friend was speaking*

MC: Hm? Oh! I'm just seeing if anyone can bring me an umbrella.

Witch: You would make someone drive all the way out here just for that...? 🤨

MC: *blinks* Huh? Drive? Oh no, that's not necessary- *their phone dings and they wave it triumphantly* Ah! There we go!

*the MC slides their phone into their pocket before pulling out a stick of chalk from their summoning supplies. Their friend watches with confusion as they begin to draw a circle on the ground, but it quickly escalates to full-blown panic the more that gets filled in*

Witch: Oh. My. Word. What do you think you're doing!?!

*MC looks up from their half completed Pride sigil just in time to see their friend diving for cover behind a stairwell*

MC: W-whoa, whoa, what's wrong???

Witch: *points at the sigil* If that's going to summon who I think it is, then what the HELL is wrong with you?? Are you trying to get us killed?! You don't even have an offering!!

*the MC looks utterly mystified as their buddy struggles to at least find their purifying salts*

MC: What? Killed?? Oh no, I know what I'm doing! I've done this hundreds of times, see just watch!

Witch: WHAT-

*the MC completes the sigil and it starts to glow bright blue against the tile floor. They get back to their feet as their friend screams in terror but rather than the rage-filled beast of Pride bursting forth from the ground, a frankly tired-looking man in barely-wrinkled silk pajamas pops into existence holding out a red umbrella...*

Lucifer: *grouchily narrows his baggy eyes at MC as they take the umbrella from his grasp* Should I even have to tell you to be more careful next time...?

MC: *frowns right back and brushes some lint off of his shoulder* I dunno, should I have to tell you to go to bed before midnight?

Lucifer: MC, don't start pushing me today...

*even though it should sound like a warning, Lucifer's voice seems more exhausted than anything, which softens the MC's expression considerably*

MC: Oh, Lu....

*they pull the haggered demon into their arms. running their fingers through his hair and earning a small grunt of satisfaction from him as he melts into their touch*

MC: Thank you for the umbrella, but you didn't have to bring it if you're this tired... Go get some rest, okay?

*Lucifer only grunts again before placing a sleepy kiss on the side of their head. He grumbles out something along the lines of, "Keep safe," before disappearing in a puff of white smoke and black feathers. While the MC inspects their newly acquired umbrella, they hear the sound of their friend scrambling out from behind the stairs, practically tripping over themselves trying to get back to their feet*

Witch: What thE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT!?!

MC Summoning Mammon

*MC and their witchy pal are in the kitchen of their shared apartment looking over some old notebooks that Solomon gave them, most of them holding transcribed stories or old conversations with the Demon Brothers. One story in particular has been especially... perplexing to them for about ten minutes now*

Witch: "-and then the secondborn trembled before the mighty thirdborn's trident as he brought it low upon his..." *glances at MC*

Witch: "his, uh..." MC?

MC: *sitting there, staring at the notepage with pursed lips*

Witch: MC, is something wrong?

MC: Wha- *they pull their eyes away from the neatly penned words then force a quick smile* Oh, no no. It's nothing. It just... this account feels a little off is all.

Witch: Really? Didn't Solomon say that he got it from one of the Demon Lords himself...?

MC: Yeah but... You know, I think we should get a second opinion on this. *they start looking for their summoning tools to find their chalk once again* I'm going to bring out Mammon.

Witch: What?? You want to call upon Mammon right now?! *their hand instinctively goes down to guard their wallet* But we could barely afford takeout last night!! 😫

MC: *frowns at them in confusion yet again* Uh... I know that? Mammon will eat leftovers as long as we heat it up right.

Witch: *jaw drops with a pop* Th-at... That wasn't what I meant...! I mean, how the heck are you going to pay his "entrance fee" with just 20 bucks to our name??

MC: *eyes widen sharply* Oh. My. God. You're absolutely right...

Witch: Thank you! Now if you just put the bag down-

MC: I totally forgot about Mammon's gift!!

Witch: His... his what?

MC: His gift!

*MC opens their backpack digs in past the zipper. After a few seconds, they pull up a small, cutesy keychain made with black beads and a crow-shaped pendant*

MC: I found this little thing while we were thrift shopping downtown. Isn't it just the cutest??

Witch: *stares at the dinky little trinket in their hand with growing concern* 😟 U-uh... It's uhm... Uh-

MC: Look, I know what you're thinking-

Witch: -Do you really??-

MC: -but don't worry! *they lift up their phone to show a similarly styled chain hanging from the case, but white instead of black*

MC: They had a matching pair! I know he's going to love it. I'll get him out here in just a second.

*the MC gets up with their chalk while their witch friend watches them go, muttering dejectedly*

Witch: Please don't tell me that actually works for you... How in the world does that actually work for you?? 😰

MC Summoning Levi

Witch: DAMMIT!!

*the shout of their witchy pal reverberates off the drabe apartment walls, sending MC out of their bedroom to investigate shortly after*

MC: What? What's wrong??

*they come over just in time to see their friend toss a ruined cloak onto the couch. The poor garment looks like it's been torn to pieces by a pack of animals, though their friend appears miraculously unscathed*

Witch: I ran into some of Solomon's missing hellhounds on the way home and had to use my cloak as a diversion. Just look what those little hellions did to it!!

*as their pal begins to mourn their favorite accessory, MC takes a couple long looks at it before waving their hand dismissively*

MC: Hey, don't worry about it. I've got a guy just for this!

Witch: A "guy"...? You know a tailor?

MC: Er... Well not exactly. Whenever I need something sewn up, I just call Leviathan.

Witch: ......

Witch: The...

Witch: The Grand Admiral of Hell's Royal Navy...

Witch: ... sews your clothes...?

MC: *blinks then flushes a bit* W-well not all of my clothes... But, you know, if I need something mended he usually lends a hand...

Witch: I didn't even know he could sew...

MC: Well, Levi's actually very talented in a lot of things! I'll even show you, just, uh...

Witch: Just... what? 🤨

MC: Well he's is pretty shy, so let me do most of the talking... And try not to look at him for too long, but also don't actively avoid looking at him either. And I know it's going to be hard, but try to keep up if he gets on one of his tangents because it really means a lot to him when people listen... Oh, and-!

Witch: What are you, his therapist??

MC: *shrugs* Kinda. I'll go get the chalk.

MC Summoning Satan

*MC and their witchy pal are in an out of the way bookstore specifically for esoteric relics and forbidden magical collections. It's an amazing little place, but it's chock full of shelves upon shelves of impossible to decipher titles and mindbending illustrations that have left the two feeling hopelessly lost...*

Witch: This is taking forever... How the hell does Solomon expect us to find anything in here??

*they look down at the small list of books their less-than-prescient mentor asked for, most of which with titles like "Cgfthgnm'o'th" or "Ghatanothoa"*

Witch: I mean, is this an errand or a C-tier fetch quest...??

MC: Ugh!... I swear Solomon knows that I'm no good in these places... Let's see.

*MC sets their summoning supplies down on a nearby table to look for their chalk and, for once, their friend actually seems kind of relieved to have the short-cut...*

Witch: Are you calling for Lucifer again...?

MC: Hm? Oh no, I think I've heard Satan talk about this place before, so maybe-

Witch: 😳 Hold on. Do... you mean that Satan?? THE Satan???

MC: *blinks* Uh... Yeah? Is there another one or...?

Witch: "Is there another one?" Are you for real?? How do I look? Is this presentable?? Shit, is it true that he hates the color red?!

MC: Where did you...? I mean, he likes green, I guess but I don't see-

Witch: WAIT, don't bring him out yet, we need a cat!! I think the café down the street attracts a few strays. I'll go grab one and come right back!!

MC: *holds up their hands to try and keep their friend from running past them* Hold on, we don't need any of that! What has gotten-??

*the MC yelps as the witch grabs them by the front of their shirt and grips the fabric tight, a burning look of determination setting their eyes ablaze*

Witch: MC, DO NOT ruin this for me!! Do you have any idea how well-connected that guy is? How many covens would kill just have someone around who's on his good side?? If this is the first impression I'm going to make, it's going to be a damn good one!

*they let the MC go only to snatch their summoning bag from the table beside them and stuff it under their arm*

Witch: I'll be taking this and you stay right here! I'll bring everything back after I go change into something green and find a spare cat!!

*as they watch their pal sprint out the door with what was effectively their only means of physical communication with the boys, the MC takes a seat at a dusty table and rests their elbows on the surface*

MC: I guess Solomon is getting those books a little late now... 😕

MC Summoning Asmo

MC: Ow!!

*the MC and their witch friend have JUST finished washing up Solomon's experiment beakers and half-eaten plates from his lab, the latter of which look so disgusting you could mistake them for old petri dishes. As the MC dries off the last glass and goes to slide it in place, they miscalculate their finger position and jam their nail right into a stack of ceramic plates*

*they pull their hand back out and they're previously trimmed nail is now broken into a sharp, jagged mess...*

MC: Oh dammit...! I just broke a nail...

*while they inspect the damage, their buddy slides next to them to look at it over their shoulder*

Witch: Huh...

Witch: Let me guess, you're going to call on ASMODEUS HIMSELF to fix it, aren't you? 🙄

MC: What?? No, of course not! I have my own kit for this, thank you very much. 😠

*their friend's eyebrows raise, almost like their impressed that MC is showing at least a modicum of self-restraint*

Witch: Well, well. I didn't think you woul-

MC: Though it IS almost time for him to give me my bi-monthly skin detox treatment so... 🤔

Witch: Are you kidding me??? 🤬

MC Summoning Beel

*the MC and their witching buddy FINALLY have a day off from Solomon's constant pestering lessons. While they discuss their upcoming plans, the news of a big human world fair in the area comes up. Though their friend seems less than impressed, MC immediately latches onto the idea for uh... reasons.*

MC: Okay, okay, I know this how this is gonna sound, buuuut we should invite Beelzebub to go to the fair with us!! 😁

Witch: ....

MC: 😀 .... So, yeah? Is that a yes?

Witch: .... MC. I swear, even you have to know why that's a bad idea... No mortal event is ever going be stocked enough to keep him from eating us-

MC: *GASP* WHAT??

MC: Beel? Eat US?? In a place with that many vendors, that'll be so unlikely. I'm sure we'll be safe!

Witch: Annnnd I just noticed that you left out the part where you're supposed to say, "Oh, he would never do that" to reassure me....

MC: Oh come on, I'm positive that he wouldn’t want to eat us, at least. He's a big softy and he really tries to keep himself in check...

Witch: I fail to see how that makes things any better...

MC: It will. Trust me. Look, Lucifer can send me enough pocket money to keep Beel fed while we're there. Pleeease, just give it a try...!

MC: I've been telling him about cotton candy and funnel cakes for years! He'll be so excited to come with so pleeeaaaase? 🥺

Witch: I think I'm starting to see why they keep caving in to you so quickly.... 😑

MC Summoning Belphie

*it's been several long nights in the shared apartment as MC and their witchy pal have been cramming for another one of Solomon's infamous tests... Despite having the test in the morning, both have long let time get away from them and neither were particularly well-rested to start with...*

MC: Shit, it's almost 2 again...

Witch: Seriously...? *checks the closest clock then snaps their book shut* Great... I think know a restorative spell or two, but there's not a lot of time to... *they stop as they see a sleepy MC reaching for their goddamn chalk again*

Witch: ... Uh, MC?

MC: Mmm...? *they blink their drooping eyes and yawn* O-oh, sorry... uh. Don’t worry about me... I got a guy for this too...

Witch: *frowns* You've got a...?

Witch: 😳 ... No... No, you can't be serious... You are NOT thinking of who I'm thinking of right now, right? Right??

MC: *rubs their eyes* Eh? Um... no? Maybe?

Witch: Do NOT summon Belphegor! No one ever summons Belphegor!! Especially to go to sleep at night!!

MC: Huh...? 😕 Why not? Isn't sleep what he's good at...?

Witch: Yeah sure, if you're looking to never wake up again! Drink some sleepy time tea or something, but keep Belphegor out if it! You're going to get yourself killed!!

MC: What do you...? *they blink then, suddenly, it actually seems to piece together for them for once* Oh. Oh! You must mean that Belphegor...

MC: Don't worry, he promised to never kill me again, so I'm safe.

Witch: That's not the-wait did you just say "again?"

MC: I'm going to bed now. Goodnight...

*the MC gets up and starts back towards their room without answering the question and their roommate calls after them*

Witch: Don't bring him or I'm taking selfies at your funeral, you hear??

~The Next Morning~

*their witch friend steps out into the kitchen, completely drained after having some AWFUL dreams the night before, just to see a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed MC in the middle of making breakfast. Their newly refreshed look is so radiant that they're practically glowing with health*

MC: Good morning~!! Would you like some pancakes? 😊

Witch: ..... I'm trying so hard not to hate you right now.....

MC: H-huh? Why?? 😨

MC Summoning Diavolo??

Witch: So... Could you do it?

*MC and their witch buddy are sitting on the floor of their living room with MC's summoning equipment in front of them. Both of them have their arms crossed as they run through their hypothetical*

MC: I mean, maybe I could... But I dunno. I not even sure where to start...

Witch: MC. You are probably the most successful summoner I've ever seen. I say just go with your gut.

MC: Oh? My gut, huh...? 🤔

*after some quiet reflection, MC grabs their chalk and begins to sketch out a new circle, making it a much larger one than all the rest*

MC: Let's see... we'd need a sigil so.

*they swipe in three long slash marks, then fill them out until look like taloned legs, humming as they go*

Witch: *frowns* Uh... MC? Isn't that just the corporate logo for the Three-Legged Crow?

MC: Yep! I figured since Dia owns the place, it should probably work. 😁

Witch: *blinks furiously* Wait, he owns what-

MC: Forget I said that. Anyway. Now we need the offering! Uhhhmm... *they tap their chin before breaking into an excited grin*

MC: I'll go get some McDonald's!

Witch: What???

MC: Dia loves human world fast food when he can have it, so that ought to work! *they start to gather their things to go out, but stop just before the door*

MC: Oh! While I'm gone, look around my room for my copy of Dark Persona 4! Levi says he's been getting into that series a lot.

Witch: He plays video games too???

MC: Only when he can! Just trust me, I'll be right back! 😁

~Twenty minutes and three orders of cheeseburgers later~

MC: Okay! Almost ready!

*they take a proud step back from their work of ritualistically arranging cheeseburgers, french fries, and ketchup packets on the makeshift summoning circle and... it sure is something. Just as their witch friend is starting to lose all hope that this idea could ever hold water, the MC goes on to add the final touch by plopping the Devil Station game right in the middle of it all. They take one BIG step back and....*

*...nothing happens*

Witch: .... Huh. Well. I guess there's stuff even you can't do-

*the markings on the ground suddenly radiate a light brighter than the sun that gets snuffed out by the growing shadows in the room. It's as if every ounce of darkness surrounding them is attempting to funnel its way towards circle's center, swirling in place like an inky black portal to the hellish depths below. Just as the MC and their friend dive behind their couch for protection, the darkness suddenly dissipates and everything, surprisingly, returns to normal*

Witch: *shakily looks at the wrecked room from behind the couch cushions, pale as could be* ... Wh-wha... what... the fuuu...

*MC's phone starts going off, startling them both, but they pick it up anyway*

MC: H-ello...? O-oh Dia!!

MC: No, no I'm fine there isn't any emergency!...

MC: No, please stay put!! I was just messing around with a friend, but I'll be way more careful going forward!

MC: .... And what would Barbs say?

MC: .... Yeah, I didn't think so, but I'll come back to see you soon, okay?

Witch: *springs to their feet reaching PEAK frustration with it all*

Witch: SERIOUSLY, WHAT EVEN ARE YOU?!?

MC Summoning... Barbatos...?

Witch: MC. This is an emergency.

MC: Yeah but-

Witch: He'll be here any minute. We're screwed!!

MC: Maybe it won't be so bad-!

Witch: I saw him buying JELLYFISH yesterday, MC! JELLYFISH!!!

MC: ..... 😨 What if we disconnect the stove???

Witch: MC!!!

*their friend pulls out their own summoning chalk and shoves it into MC's hands, clasping them closed in a desperate plea for help*

Witch: We have to some kind of meal plan in place or Solomon is going to make us dinner tonight. You know and I know that there's only ONE person who can keep him out of the kitchen at this point. MC, you have to summon Barbatos!!

MC: B-but...! But-!!

*their friend doesn't wait for them to finish before pulling them down onto the ground and making enough room for them to start drawing*

Witch: THERE'S NO TIME!! Do it, MC!! Do it!!

*they lean back to watch as the MC rests th summoning chalk on the ground, but rather than drawing their hand remains perfectly still...*

Witch: MC? What are you waiting for??

*their friend leans over to get a good look at their face, and they see that the MC's forehead is already glistening with beads of sweat... Their hand goes from still, to trembling slightly when they attempt to make their first stroke... only for their grip to snap the chalk in half completely. The MC stares quietly at their hand for a few moments, before setting everything down and pulling out their cellphone instead*

MC: Y-you know, I think I'm just going to call him.... 😥

*as their witch friend watches the being who hugged Lucifer, tamed Belphegor, and (unofficially) summoned the Demon Prince himself, chicken out of summoning this one last demon they know, a single question burns deep down in the pit of their stomach*

"Just how scary is that butler...???" 😰

1K notes · View notes

rodricksfilipinagf · 1 year ago

Text

Rhysand x Playwright! Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

“You’ll regret it, darling…” The voice reverberated in her head, but Y/N batted it away. The last thing she needed was Rhysand’s phantom voice today haunting her. Especially today. Because today she’d be unveiling her newest creation to the High Lord of the Day Court, Helion, his court, and all of his people.

The Night Court weren’t necessary enemies with the Day Court, but Helion and his people certainly got a good laugh at her plays poking fun at the brooding High Lord. Best of all, if Helion liked her play, then she would get the Helion Award for Playwriting Excellence. Maybe then she could use that clout to write about whatever she wanted.

The Day Court had a rich culture, and history, and Y/N yearned to write plays about those. Unfortunately the only way in to the world she loved so much was to create works honoring Helion, and making sure he came across the best out of all the other High Lords.

Surely Rhysand’s threats at the ball meant nothing, she thought as she straightened the jacket of the actor playing him backstage, just for something to do. He just wanted to seem scary. Which was entirely the point of tonight’s play. To take the wind sails out of him. Once people laugh at something, they cease to fear it. She hoped it would work on her too. She’d paced the rooms of one of the Day Court’s many libraries in anticipation of this night. She’d be damned if Rhysand found a way to ruin it.

Thousands of miles away, Rhysand primped in his bedroom at his well-lived in townhouse in Velaris, the City of Starlight. A city that the rest of the Night Court, and the rest of Prythian in fact, including the part Y/N lived in, did not know existed.

Aside from a whole city, the rest of the world had no idea of the genuine friendship Rhysand had with his tight knit group of friends he called his Inner Circle. They weren’t afraid of him. Not in the slightest.

“Please let me come along,” Mor said with a grin, settling on Rhysand’s bed as he got ready for his not-so-welcome guest appearance at Y/N’s play.

“Mor,” Rhysand began, but then Cassian poked his head in too.

“An entire play devoted to making fun of you? Tell me again why I can’t come,” Cassian drawled, barely containing his laughter.

“I won’t look as intimidating if I come in with other people,” Rhysand said unconvincingly.

“It works for the people of Hewn City,” Mor protested, twisting her long blonde locks. “What about if we go in through the back, and Cassian pretends he’s in costume, or something?”

“People don’t usually go in costume to watch plays,” Rhysand replied, brushing invisible lint off his jacket.

“Rhys, have you been to a production of Rocky Horror in Velaris?” Mor asked, shocked.

“Oh, he’s a Rocky Horror virgin?” Cassian grinned. “As soon as you kidnap that girl, we should take both of you. Rocky Horror is the place to hook up.”

Rhysand tried to laugh off his best friends’ comments. “What makes you think I want to hook up with her?”

Morrigan gave Rhysand a knowing look. “Anyone else you would have killed. Well, in the Court of Nightmares anyway. Anywhere but here. What’s so special about this girl?”

Rhysand thought about it for a second. “We met at one of Helion’s balls, and when I threatened her with certain death to stop, she still didn’t back down.”

“Seems like theater is very important to her,” Mor noted. “That or pissing you off.”

“I like her already,” Cassian crowed. “Promise we get to meet her soon? We can give her some new material for her next plays? Azriel and Amren too once they get back from that mission.”

“No,” Rhysand insisted. “She can’t meet you guys right away. Especially not you and Azriel. She has to be scared of me and think she’s coming here to be punished.”

“Well, we can,” Cassian began, but Rhysand interrupted, “No,” firmly.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” pleaded Mor. “You should know what it’s like to love something so much you’d do stupid things for it.”

“I do,” Rhysand admitted. “You know, I still don’t have a mate yet.” Cassian clapped his back at this and chortled. Rhysand continued, “If she’s willing to make an enemy of me, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, over this, then she can be just brave enough to be High Lady of the Night Court.”

Backstage at Helion’s Theater, Y/N joined hands with her actors. She did not tell them about the threat she got from Rhysand, or mount even more pressure on them by mentioning the award they might possibly get. That way, she decided, they would perform their best and not be nervous. She passed the energy to the male next to her that she got from the female on her other side. It was a beloved, time honored tradition that Y/N was eager to partake in.

Her heart was in her throat as the play started, but as it went on, she started to relax a little. The roof didn’t cave in from shaking mountains so close by. She didn’t get any jump scares backstage.

Then Act 3 came. Everyone was laughing at the actor in the Rhysand costume talk about feminism as if he’d only taken a freshman year womens’ studies course at the local university. It was to poke fun at how behind womens’ rights were in the Night Court compared to…at least the Day and Dawn Courts. Y/N was grateful that since Helion was queer himself, everyone in his court was made to feel comfortable to be their true selves publicly. Rhysand would probably have them hung up and shamed publicly. So he deserves this, she thought.

Suddenly a huge thunderclap sounded through the theater. Then came a swirling black cloud onstage. Oh fuck, Y/N thought. There was only one person who could make an entrance like that. The actors were frozen with fear. Hmmm, maybe in hindsight I should have told them that Rhysand threatened me, Y/N thought.

Rhysand didn’t say anything for a while, drinking in everyone’s fear. He’s probably loving this, Y/N thought, rolling his eyes.

“Helion,” he announced. “I’m surprised at you. If you wanted war, you could have just said so.”

Helion scoffed from the balcony. “Come on, Rhysand,” he shouted from the balcony. “Can’t you take a joke?” But there was a tremor in his voice.

“I let this go on for much longer than you deserve, Helion,” Rhysand said steely. “I demand retribution, if you really don’t want war.”

Helion sighed as if this was a big favor, probably to look good in front of all his people. “I suppose. What do you want?”

“The writer of this play,” Rhysand said simply. “Or everyone here will die.”

Oh shit, he was serious about that? Y/N thought frantically.

“Oh good,” he said as if reading her mind. “She’s here. Come on out darling. I won’t bite...here.”

I could run, she thought. I could make a run for it. But then he’d catch me since he could hear my thoughts.

“You’re right,” he chuckled, to the confusion of the audience. “Should I give you until the count of 3? I could kill three people as I do so.” He surveyed the audience of now frantic theatergoers. “Will that be funny enough for you?”

Fuck, she thought as she reluctantly stepped out onstage. She could see Helion with his head in his hands in the balcony, narrowly avoiding a political disaster. She guessed she would be the sacrificial lamb for that. And to think doing the plays for Helion was going to be a way to catapult me into a better life of creative expression and freedom and making change through art.

Now she would be sentenced to torture in the Night Court, all because Helion wasn’t brave enough to take on Rhysand. But she was. “So what?” she demanded. “You’re going to kill me? Go ahead. Then everyone will see how horrible you are and how right I was.”

She closed her eyes, bracing for impact. The she felt something horrible. Her mind being cleaved open and something creeping in.

You’re really not afraid of me, are you? Rhysand thought, and it echoed inside her head.

No! she shot back. But then she thought about the legendary Court of Nightmares and it took everything in her to keep from trembling. She couldn’t live like that forever.

So you are scared, Rhysand taunted, raising an eyebrow.

Please don’t take me there, Y/N relented. Just kill me now. Make an example of me, or whatever. Please just don’t let me-

But Rhysand merely said, “I warned you, darling.”

Y/N’s heart started beating faster and she started looking for a prop dagger, hoping if she stabbed it into herself hard enough, she could take herself out of this. It would look bad for both Helion and Rhysand. But Rhysand wrapped an arm around her, whispering “Oh no you don’t” and the black cloud that circled him before started circling both of them. When they were out of sight of everyone else, he whispered, “It won’t be that bad. There was no need for you to try that. Not that it would have done anything.”

“I hate you,” Y/N said, truly dreading her time at the Night Court with this monster. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt swirling winds.

“I know,” Rhysand replied as Y/N stopped feeling the whipping wind against her face and her nose was engulfed with, rather than burning flesh, notes of jasmine and freesia.

(1642 words.)

#enemies to lovers rhysand #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand headcanons #rhysand imagines #rhysand x reader #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you

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plutoccult · 11 months ago

Text

NO ME QUEDA MAS

pairing: hajime iwaizumi x female reader

description: iwaizumi’s wedding day was a day you dreaded for many years. now that the day had finally come, you regret never telling him how you feel.

word count: 1.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: finally, a new theme! i’m on an angst GRIND, you guys. been feeling really unhinged lately thanks to my girl @intorder for giving me fuel for angst, who also beta read this hurt piece. oddly enough, my life has been pretty good lately, so idk why i thought to write this. i’ve never written for iwaizumi before, but he came to mind first when i thought of this idea. this was definitely inspired by that one scene in 13 going on 30, but i made it hurt even more. i hope i did iwaizumi justice, and i hope you all enjoy without crying?

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @darthferbert @kob3nie @thelazyhuevito @multi-fandom-fanfic @sterieshinso @kiiyomei @chrybdcsm @alienlatteinspace @abonbonblr @luverofutoshi @p3ritwinkle @juuzou13

taglist form here

“well? how do i look?”

iwaizumi turned around to face you as he showed off his suit. you couldn’t believe he was actually getting married today, and that the person he was marrying wasn’t you. it was hellish to shove your feelings down your throat for decades, especially when your friendship suffered god knows how many miles apart.

a part of you died the day he returned from california. you were so thrilled to see him, missing him so, but your heart shattered the second you saw he brought a girl with him. it was even worse when iwaizumi spoke to you about her, saying he felt like he knew she was the girl he would marry the second he saw her. you wanted to be that girl, and maybe you could’ve if you simply spoke up. after all, everyone always teased you two about ending up together growing up.

“you look great, iwa.” you force a smile. it wasn’t a lie, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, standing so proud and tall in his suit. not a single scratch or crease on his shoes nor any signs of wear in his jacket. as much as it pained you to see it, iwaizumi had grown up.

“you think so?” he asked, checking himself out in the mirror, scanning for any flaws in his outfit. “i could’ve sworn i saw lint on the back of my jacket.”

“oh, i can get it.” you offer. iwaizumi immediately said “yes, please” and “thank you” before you stood up to help him. his back faced you, shoulders as strong as ever, making this all the more difficult for you. if you were his bride, you probably wouldn’t be seeing him like this right now. it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, after all.

“how come your groomsmen aren’t up here helping you?” you ask, cursing yourself in your head for being so nosy.

“i’m sure you can understand i didn’t want oikawa up my ass before i go down there.” iwaizumi chuckled. you force yourself to copy his laughter, pretending as if you found this so hilarious. if oikawa were here, you wouldn’t be ridden with temptation right now. only he could stop you from saying things you knew you’d regret.

“i guess i should feel special then, huh?” you question. “be the first to see you like this…”

“mhm.” he replied, you see him nod in the mirror. “special privileges for my best friend.”

you felt your stomach tie up in knots as he said that. best friend. that’s all you were, that’s all you ever allowed yourself to be. it could’ve been you waiting for him at the altar, but instead you’re helping him get prepared to marry another woman, ready to beg him to run away with you.

you pretend to inspect the back of his jacket, knowing there wasn’t any lint anyway. it was absolutely flawless, just like him. this was torture for you, and you couldn’t stand another second longer.

“listen, iwa…” you begin to say. “i should tell you something before you go down there.”

“oh?” iwaizumi turned around to face you. you felt as if his eyes were piercing through your soul, making your heart race faster than it was before. “what is it?”

“i, um…” you hesitate. was it too late to go back? yes, yes it was. “i think you’re marrying the wrong girl today.”

“huh?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i mean, i think you should be marrying me instead.” you blurt out.

“y/n, what are you talking about?” iwaizumi questioned. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right as he was about to get married.

“i’m in love with you, iwa. i love you.” you admit, your heart racing upon your confession. you should feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but something heavy still lingered on top of you.

“no…” he shook his head. iwaizumi had rejected the possibility a long time ago. even if he loved you just as long as you loved him, you were just too late.

“yes. i am.” you say.

“you’re saying this now?” he asked you. it almost made him want to laugh. life was just so funny, he thought to himself. why couldn’t you have said this before? why did you wait until he was about to get married? if things were different, iwaizumi would be reacting to this much differently right now.

“i know i should’ve told you before you went to california—“

“should’ve? i wanted you to!” iwaizumi interrupted you, much to your shock. “everyone said you were going to before i left! i just figured they were just messing with me afterwards…”

you remember telling oikawa how you felt about iwaizumi, it was his idea to tell him before iwaizumi left for california. you had it all planned out in your head, but as you stood there at the airport, you couldn’t find the words anymore. you chickened out, cursing yourself on the way home and the days that would come. it only made you feel worse when iwaizumi found someone.

what you didn’t know was that he expected your confession that day. you should’ve known oikawa would run his mouth. he always meant well, always hoping you’d end up with iwaizumi, but look at you now, a delusional fool.

“i was going to, iwa. i just got scared…” you confess to him. “if i could go back to that day, i’d do it differently.”

“well, you can’t turn back time, y/n. it’s too late.” he said coldly, almost like a stab to the heart.

“why not?” you ask, desperately clinging onto your delusions.

“i moved on.” iwaizumi replied. he might as well be twisting a knife, even if he was merely speaking the truth. “we've both gone down different paths, we both made choices, and this is what i’m choosing.”

“i just thought…” you began to say, but fall silent.

“just thought what?” he asked, raising his voice. “that i’d give up everything i’ve built for a last minute confession? one that i gave up on waiting for years ago?”

you don’t say anything. what was there to say? it was exactly what that sick part of you deep down expected. how stupid of you to think he would drop everything just because you finally had the courage to confess your feelings. if there wasn’t a whole wedding waiting to happen, maybe iwaizumi would change his mind.

you look away in shame. even if you didn’t speak your thoughts aloud, you still felt disgusted now that the reality of your confession hit you. you were terrible to think this way. not just a terrible person, but a terrible friend too. it was unfair to expect such a tall order out of him, especially now.

“my family’s down there, my soon-to-be in-law’s are down there.” iwaizumi said. “we care about each other, you know?”

“i know.” you say quietly as you bite your lip.

“y/n, you…” he let out a sigh. “you don't always get the dream house… but you get awfully close.”

you look up to meet his eyes, tears streaming down your face. to him, you were always the dream house. if only you had known that before, you thought. iwaizumi felt ridden with guilt rejecting you like this, and it didn’t help that you were crying your eyes out.

“please don't cry, y/n.” he begged you.

“what? no, i'll be fine, i promise.” you force out a laugh, no matter how much it killed you. you saw the look in iwaizumi’s eyes. he knew you weren’t truly okay, but he also knew that you were letting him go. it was the right thing to do.

“y/n…”

“it’s okay. i'm fine.” you wipe away your tears, trying your best to be strong. “i'm just crying because i'm happy. i want you to be so, so happy.”

you did, you wanted him to be happy. even if it wasn’t with you, you owed him the ability to be happy. it was the least you could do while you still had some of your dignity left.

“i love you, iwa.” you barely get the words out. “you… you're my best friend.”

you see iwaizumi’s eyes well up with tears, a rare sight to see. only you could produce such a reaction out of him. only you would truly have his heart forever, but life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. it was just the way things go.

“i should go. everybody’s waiting for you.” you say, on your way out the door.

“y/n, i...” you stop in your tracks, waiting for what he’d say next, and it only crushed you even more. “i've always loved you.”

overwhelmed, you walk out of the room in tears, ready to bolt out of the venue without another thought. oikawa found you on your way out, asking what was wrong and where you were going, but when he saw mascara running down your face, he knew exactly what happened, and he knew he should’ve been there to stop it.

you insist to oikawa that he tell iwaizumi you were sorry before you finally left the venue. you couldn’t stand to be there a second longer, you just had to get out of here. as you head to your car, you hear the beginning of the wedding march play. the sound brought you to your knees as you violently sobbed. if this was rock bottom, then you finally reached it.

as much as you wanted to cry there forever, you force yourself to get up, finally finding the strength to get into your car. you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to drive off somewhere far away from here. if only you could just turn back time.

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyu x female reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x female reader #hajime iwaizumi x female reader #iwaizumi x female reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #pluto writes 📝#gif divider by cafekitsune

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