#but hey at least he can also see blue
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I don't know what amuses me more about @mother-ofthe-universedraws' Son of Stan AU
Simon having an absolute tantrum that his world view of yellows is a lie
or that the reincarnation of an all knowing, all seeing demon god can only see colors that dogs see now
#Gravity Falls#OC Fan Art#Simon Pines#Son of Stan AU#Protanopia#Color Blindness sucks and Im sorry for anyone that has it#but hey at least he can also see blue
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Freyja voice I'm So Sorry you had a Traumatic Childhood and it made you Stupid On-Line.
#I HIT TAG LIMIT ON THAT. FUCK‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️#can somebody tell me it's gonna be okay.#or at very least say hey milo. that sounds insane. and not normal. but validating style.#idk it was normal. for me. for. a long time. question for the chat is it normal#for your mom to say shit like 'your brother is a lady killer a very handsome young man' and like.#phrased in such a way where it's like. the tone is exasperated but also like ? am i? supposed to be agreeing w this?#i mean objectively conventionally he has blue eys and nice hair. i can see why so many girls did like him.#but like man i don't know i haven't really seen the guy since he got sent to juvee. so. who's to say.#top ten things i promised i would never overshare online bc i felt it would be far too damning.#like. for real. i promised myself i'd never talk about my break up (i did. in a bout of moe lore dumping.)#and i promised myself i would never give any details about my brother.#and well.#i don't know am i going to be killed. or worse. pitied.#like like further context that was a car ride conversation when i was like. probably around 15.#and the bit right after is like. me being 15 about it.#man. am i gonna get shot and killed. be honest.
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Obsessed with your reaction to the “trades”
HAHA do u have any strong feelings abt the "trades" too or is it just me? bc the "trades" lowkey make me so sad. like wdym the season after aomine gets traded from cavs to the timberwolves the cavs become number one in the east and the wolves start sucking (compared to their performance last season, where they were number one in the west)... like that's just so heartbreaking to me... at least we can imagine ant and aomine on a team together causing chaos
kuroko's trade makes me mad for a different reason, even tho dallas is performing better than the spurs (but no big difference from last season @ this time), they've separated kuroko and wemby!!! wemby doesnt need chris paul he can have kuroko. or fuck it he can have both of them! now the spurs r really a problem! but nooo now he's on the mavs... i'm sure its bc of the luka magic or kyries skills or whatever but i dont caaaare... i feel like kuroko fits the spurs so much better
also i think kuroko looks sooo much better in the spurs uniforms than any of the dallas uniforms! he doesnt need to be in blue all the time... the black and white suits him nicely! now aomine on the other hand... i Do think he looks better in the current wolves uniforms, but thats just because i hate the current cavs uniforms LMAO. i think the og knb x nba crossover made pretty good matches for the characters to their teams! whoever's in charge needs to free themselves from always matching hair color to the uniform color but alas... at least nobody else changed teams (from what i saw)
#asks#sleepzonesworld#knb nba au#as u can tell i have a. lot of feelings about this. LMAO#reacting like theyre real trades fr#i know this could also be chalked up to either of them requesting a trade or free agency but thats more complicated...#nba put them in different teams than last time? im calling that a trade#i could also see aomine “ring chasing” going to the number one team in the west for last season but that might be an uncharitable read of#him as a character.. especially assuming he's grown since high school lmao#i also don't think kuroko's the type to ring chase or team hop but that's assuming the team would keep him.. i could see teams giving him u#in free agency or however the fuck it works. but hey if everyone else gets to stay on their teams forever than so does he!!!!#its okay guys. at least aomine and kuroko are in the same conference now#i wanna keep drawing kuroko in the spurs jersey bc i rllllyyy dont wanna draw him in a mavs jersey#i cant do it!!! i cant keep drawing blue hair with blue jerseys and green hair with green jerseys and red hair and red jerseys......#give us some variety pleaseeeee#anyways rant over LMAO
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Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.
It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.
The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.
Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.
There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.
Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*
Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.
Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.
Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.
Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.
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Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.
He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.
Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"
The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."
And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."
"No shit? It's great."
"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."
The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"
Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."
Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."
Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.
"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."
"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"
The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."
Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."
"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."
"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"
"No! It's toilet paper."
Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.
It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.
"Here," he says. "Try this."
"Joni Mitchell?"
"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."
"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"
"On the house," Eddie shrugs.
"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."
And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--
And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.
The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.
"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.
"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--
"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--
He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.
He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.
---
Harrington comes back.
The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.
"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.
"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.
"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."
Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.
"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.
"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."
Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."
He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"
"Think of it more as an opportunity."
"To regret every decision I've ever made?"
"To expand your musical horizons."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."
Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."
And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.
As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."
Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"
"--terrible?--"
"Avant garde."
"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"
Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"
Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.
---
He keeps coming back.
Eddie tries not to read into it.
Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.
But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.
But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.
Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.
But Steve has a girlfriend.
They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.
He tries not to read into it.
---
They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.
Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.
Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.
"Steve?" He calls.
He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.
"What happened?"
"Traffic."
Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."
"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."
"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."
He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.
Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.
Eddie stops breathing.
Steve closes the distance between them.
What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.
He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.
"Nancy?"
"You have a girlfriend."
Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."
Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.
"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."
He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"
Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"
"It was the best way."
"But you're--?"
"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"
"That was because of the jacket!"
"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"
"That describes five dudes I see a day!"
"And you thought they were straight??"
Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."
"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.
"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"
Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"
"So okay."
"You do like me back?"
"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."
"And now?"
"Come back to my place?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#romcom#meet cute#mutual pining#misunderstandings#banter#actor steve harrington#regular guy eddie munson#nancy and steve have a pr relationship#fake dating#nancy and steve beard for each other#steve thinks eddie knows he's gay#eddie does NOT#hijinks#didn't know how to work this in but it's ronance
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Busted and Blue 。𖦹 ⋆。
Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader
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It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..
Wc: 3,727
Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz
An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚
Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)
Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33
“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.
Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”
You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.
Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.
“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.
But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.
“Wait!”
“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.
Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.
You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”
You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.
“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”
You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.
“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”
Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.
He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.
And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.
Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.
But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.
Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.
Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.
With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.
You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.
But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.
Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.
And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!
You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.
You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.
“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.
You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.
Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.
“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”
He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.
After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.
You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.
You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.
Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.
“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”
They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.
Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.
“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.
“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.
“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.
You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.
You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.
There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.
“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.
After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.
You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.
It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.
There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.
He wants to protect you, he needs to.
It’s his job as your boyfriend.
Your future husband.
Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.
But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.
He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.
“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”
Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.
He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.
He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.
…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.
That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.
The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.
But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.
Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.
They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.
He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.
It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.
“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.
Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.
And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.
Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.
Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.
“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.
Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”
“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”
“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.
But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.
When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.
It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.
“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.
“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.
Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.
Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.
So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.
“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.
You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.
You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.
“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”
You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.
“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.
You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.
“Dollie? You up here babe?”
You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.
….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.
“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“
The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.
You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.
Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.
“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.
Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.
“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”
When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.
You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.
Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.
He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.
“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”
Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.
“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”
Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.
“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”
There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.
It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.
“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.
“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.
His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.
Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.
He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.
Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.
“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”
Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.
“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.
And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.
Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”
Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”
Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.
But he hesitates to knock.
He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:
First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.
Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.
Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.
Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.
You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.
Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.
His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.
He knocks at the door.
•······················•
There’s a knock at the door.
A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.
You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.
You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.
“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.
“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.
“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.
You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.
You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.
You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”
Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.
Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.
The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.
The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.
He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.
Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.
You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.
This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.
Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.
It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.
“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.
“..Do what?”
“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.
Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back
There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.
You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.
Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.
You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.
You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.
While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.
“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.
Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”
You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”
“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.
After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.
While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.
Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.
He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.
Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.
That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.
- -
“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”
“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”
Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.
Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”
- -
If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.
As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.
Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.
Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.
If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.
Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.
He can’t help it. You make him whole.
He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.
Because you’re his love; his life.
#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#Spotify#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#outer banks#outer banks fic#outer banks imagine#obx x reader#obx x you
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yandere! childhood friend who still reminisces about your childhood together. yeah, the two of you may be grown now but he's been your day 1 and he just can't help but think about how you used to cling to him and adore him so much! he wishes you'd still do that but it is what it is. no matter how much he wishes otherwise.
yandere! childhood friend who did everything with you. yeah, that also includes practicing kisses. he's your first kiss, and he's never gonna let you forget that. you said you wanted to get better and who is he to refuse? he can't pass up such a prime opportunity! and it's not like he wants anyone else to take it. god no. that would be a tragedy.
"yeah, remember our kissing practices? hah, we were such kids back then!" he watches as you snicker, feeling a warm flush creep up his spine. god, of course he remembers. young and immature as you both were, you both learned together. that's all that really matters to him. "thanks to you, i can now makeout with my partners with ease. you're the best man." and has he told you how muchit infuriates him that you're using your experience to get with others? to please them with the mouth that once touched his? nah, he really can't stand for it. but he isn't allowed to say anything. he's just a childhood friend after all. not for long though.
yandere! childhood friend who wishes he would've accepted your offer to learn how to fuck as well. but no, he just had to be way too delusional back then and tell you to wait for the right one. he must've thought that you'd feel the same and confess then he'd court you slowly before getting to that stage... that never happened unfortunately. not yet at least. he'll make it happen.
yandere! childhood friend who's still a hopeless romantic at heart. a delusional one but a romantic nonetheless. he brings you out on "platonic dates" or whatever the fuck you like to call it, comfort you after your shitty excuse of a partner dumps you, and treats you like the deity that you are. you only deserve the best and he'll be there to provide. none of these losers can't treat you well. he can. he really hopes it'll help you see him as a potential boyfriend!
"i just," you blow your nose, tears streaming down your cheeks as your childhood friend rubs at your back tenderly. "don't know why he'd want to dumo me! we've been going strong for a year already! it's so out of the blue!" yeah, out of the blue huh... not really out of the blue for someone who's been actively theeatening that poor excuse of a man. that menas him, obviously. why he's been threatening him, you ask? because he's not treating you the way you should be treated, duh! sure you look happy but are you really? probably not, he's sure of it. "hey hey, don't worry... I'm here now, aren't i?" he always is, and he always will. you just need to understand that fact and you'll start seeing him in a different light too. don't worry, he has lots of patience. just... don't go sleeping with other people again.
yandere! childhood friend who may or may not be totally super duper mega in love with you. yeah, definitely not in love with you. that would be weird, right? come on, he's your childhood friend! sure you two might've kissed when you were kids and promised to marry one another but those were kiddy promises! that's all they are! he... totally doesn't believe you actually wanna marry him and be his forever and ever.
"so have you started thinking about your future?" he pauses at your question, rubbing at his empty ring finger. future, huh? funny how you ask that when you two are destined to be together at the end of it all. i mean, the two of your promised it as kids, didn't you? sure you're exploring now but at the end if the day, it's him that you come back to, don't you? even if just as a friend. but that's the present, not the future. "nah, not really. just wanna focus on the current moment, y'know?" bullshit, and he knows it. but he doesn't wanna scare you away. not yet at least. you're still out lookign for others which means you haven't come round to the idea of you two together. not to worry, he'll give you a little more time to see how good he is. how good things could be between you two if you just gave him the chance. "i mean, you're here with me." he chuckles, taking your hand in his before placing it on his cheek. you're warm. he likes your warmth, it's so soothing. "that's more than enough for me." half lidded eyes gaze at you, full of emotion and hidden longing before he hums softly. the teo fo you sit in the park in silence, enjoying each other's presence. in the moonlight, everything seems to slow and engulf the two of you in a quiet embrace. he only wishes you would just love him back already. "yeah, I'm glad to be by your side too, best friend." ...he really hates those words. don't worry, good things come to those who wait. and you will be his in due time. you've already had his heart, now all he needs is yours.
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#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#yandere childhood friend#yandere childhood friend x reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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The Rock N' Roll Got Harder and Softer
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
summary: common sense isn't really your strongest suit. so here you are, riding a stranger's bike on halloween night. hey, he saved you! with one hell of a costume, no doubt. because it has to be one, right?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (do we see the blog name? get used to it), smut, flirty reader! she's got no shame just game ++ also overshares (sorry if this trait is mischaracterizing you, everything will be okay❤️) praise kink, oral f. receiving (have u seen that tongue? ik its abt eddie but venom's tongue plays a part there... he defo going in my hear me out cake), does this count as sub!eddie idk?? the man is touch starved, p. in v. (use protection okay!! don't be like these dumb horny bitches), reader gets harrassed but the lethal protector saves the day!!
word count: 5,008 words
side note: i was re watching venom 1 and watching venom 2 since my friends want to see the third, so i got the tom hardy and his plump princess lips have to be mine virus!! like i wish i was kidding but after watching the movies and the top 100 dilf poll on twitter i felt in the need to use my hands (iykyk) ++ after finding out i have a pattern for lonely fucked up dilfs (first with old man logan now eddie). also, irdgaf halloween just passed; let's pretend ur calendar got stuck on the 31st as u read this. also, this can happen after venom (2018) but the time isn't really important!
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This is stupid.
It's a cold october night, the wind blowing in your face, and you're navigating this part of the neighborhood you don't know in nothing but a skimpy red bathing suit, like it's a hot summer day.
Dressing up as Pamela Anderson in Baywatch sounded much better a couple months ago; not now, when all the people passing by ogle your body up and down, whether it be with lust or judgment.
Your night has gone to shit: you feel cold, hungry, tipsy and vulnerable. One thing is wanting to be objectified by the possible candidates you would take home from the party, and other is being eyed by strangers who look at your body like hungry wolves.
You finally spot a mini-market amid the packed street, blue hues of light providing some sense of relief.
After getting something to drink and eat, you'll probably feel better and have the energy to walk home; there's no way you and your very small costume are getting inside an uber at ten o'clock tonight.
The bell chimes in as you enter the store, but the lady behind the counter doesn't even glance your way, focused on the TV behind her.
"Hi" she waves her hand absentmindedly, "Do you have any water?"
She mutters something that sounds like an annoyed of course we do, and points to the freezer in the back, still without looking.
"Alright, thanks" you say, walking to the freezer section and grabbing a bottle you chug until it's almost empty. You're still hungry, but at least your throat doesn't feel like you've eaten sand anymore.
With the bottle in your hand, you take the time to scour around the store, looking for something to eat. You finally decide on some chocolates; heck, it's halloween. Going home and stuffing your face with a bunch of candy for what's left of the night does sound nice.
You finally spot the chocolates on a display, moving towards it. As you're about to grab a bunch and go, another hand interrupts you.
"Oh!" you exclaim out loud, stepping back.
Maybe you're haven't gone trick or treating in years, but you will treat yourself tonight. And not with the chocolates. There's a God out there, definitely, who has blessed you not only with great curves but also with the chance of showing them off in the precise moment.
"Sorry!" your voice chirps a bit too excited for your liking. Control yourself. You clear your throat, suspecting the burn in your cheeks gives you away.
You're supposed to be confident! Flirty and charming! You're young and pretty! But how can you not be nervous when the stranger looks like that?
The eye candy who sports tattoos and a bad boy aroma that makes you drool; the jacket and beat up look just adds the perfect layer to the whole vibe. You're known to have a preference for men who look like he does. Something about the dangerous makes your heart race and skin prickle. Then your eyes travel to the motorcycle helmet in his right hand. Yummy.
The heat in your cheeks returns.
You don't even know his name, yet you've oggled him up and down without shame. It's probably all the pent up energy you had saved for the party. You figure it has to be invested somewhere else. Maybe with him.
Him, who's way older than the other guys you've been with. But that just just makes it even better.
"It's okay" he speaks up, and his voice is not only what you imagined it to be. The rich grave undertone is making your panties wet just with the sound. "You go first"
He points to the stand full of said treats. You motion forward, not without putting some extra sway and effort in your walk. By the reflection of the mirror in the corner, you know you've at least got his attention.
"Done" you say, leaving some space for him to pass. "Would the gentleman give me the honor of knowing his name?"
"I'm Eddie" he extends his hand, "Eddie Brock".
You shouldn't be this excited to shake a hand but when his large palm engulfs yours, you find it hard to let go.
With the closeness, you take another look at his face, getting lost in his warm eyes and the eyebags that adorn them. It's unfair how good they suit him; unlike you after a wild night out.
"Nice to meet you. Very nice, indeed" you purr.
You also make sure to bat your eyelashes in a way your friends tease you but has proven to be effective every time.
It seems to have done its magic, because he also takes a look at you.
But it's different.
You can sense something else is happening when his eyebrows furrow first, then face contorting into a disgusted expression as Venom says: I want to eat her, Eddie. I bet she tastes as sweet as she sounds! It's too tempting!
"Shut up" he mumbles (but loud enough for you to hear), then mutters something like We're just supossed to eat the bad guys! but you're confused and hurt, so you don't really pay attention; your ego really taking a blow tonight.
"I beg your pardon?"
Eddie curses under his breath, "that wasn't for you".
"Right" you chuckle dryly, looking around at the empty store. "Don't see who else that could be for"
"I'm sorry, it's hard to explain" he rushes the apology, looking rather embarrassed. "Now, if you excuse me".
And walks past you like it's nothing. Maybe that weird spark you felt was just on you; the interest isn't mutual.
"Hi Mrs. Chen" you hear him salute the lady behind the counter. Sighing, you grab your chocolates and head to cash out, adding another deception to your already bad night.
The bell chimes again when you make your way to the line, behind Eddie, but this time, you don't bother to look.
"Well, hello" the voice behind you says. It takes you a few seconds to realize they're talking to you.
"Hi" you mutter a bit annoyed, looking at the front. The silence is dense, the beep of each of Eddie's (million) of chocolates being the only silence filling the store.
"Won't even spare a glance, doll?" they continue, despite your clear apathy. "C'mon, lemme see if that face is as pretty as your ass"
Blood rushes to your face, and you're so embarrassed your body stiffs, fully aware the other two people in the store have noticed. You hug your body, because there isn't really anything you can cover yourself with right now, not daring to look back.
Well, fuck me.
If you thought leaving the party was going to solve your problems, it's only proven to cause more.
Eddie finishes, leading to your turn. You give a strained smile to Mrs. Chen, and she just gives you a look of pity.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" they start to get irritated, and you just pray they don't follow you outside once you're done. "Are you deaf, Pamela?" he mocks, making your blood boil and skin sweat.
Mrs. Chen is done, but the stranger isn't taking your silence as an answer. Before you can leave, they grab your hand.
"Already leaving? You haven't even given me your name yet"
It's such a silly thought to have right now, but you realize you hadn't given Eddie your name either.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but she's clearly not interested, buddy" a voice speaks out, and you know it. It's probably the panic but you hadn't realize Eddie's still here. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and even thought you hate having to depend on a man to be left alone, you need his help; so you plead, boring into his warm chocolate eyes.
"In case you haven't noticed, this is a two people conversation" the stranger snarls.
"Looks more like a one sided conversation to me" he bites back, making the stranger mad. That's the last thing you need. You just want to go home and curl under your warm and soft blankets; you've even lost your appetite.
"It's none of your business. Are you not understanding?"
"Oh, but that's the problem. You're the one that isn't understanding" what appears to be black surrounds his before bare neck, and you feel like you haven't completely sobered up, your mind playing games with you. The black engulfs his whole body, making him taller and more intimidating.
"It is" he threats on a distorted voice. Now, where Eddie's face used to be, another one replaces him: with white instead of two eyes and a big mouth with teeth and a really long tongue.
You hadn't even drink that much. No way this is real.
The stranger gulps, petrified. Oh, so they see it too; it's not you.
"Sorry, idiot. The lifeguard shift is over" and before the stranger replies, his head dissapear inside the mouth, chopping it off.
"Fuck!" you curse out loud, the body falling limp at your side.
A shiver runs through your back. This is a nightmare.
"Well, now that makes us two who know your secret now" Mrs. Chen adds in a rather monotone voice, and you wonder if people have gone insane―you included.
You can't even speak. Less when the black starts dissappearing, and it's Eddie's face and body again.
"Hey, sorry about that" you don't know who Eddie is talking to when saying that. "You okay?"
Okay? Sure, that you are. Fine? Not really.
"It's alright if you're scared" he reaches out to you but you flinch. He looks used to it, apparently, "I know this is weird".
You chuckle, bemused. "Weird? Not even in my wildest acid trip, I could've imagine that"
"It's easy to explain, but hard to understand" he begins, but trails off. "Would you, uh, let me?"
Well, he had saved you. If he wanted to eat you and have you go the same fate your harasser did, he would've done it by now.
Besides, common sense isn't really your strongest suit. Never was. You've had so many problems stem from it, including tonight's events, that you could probably write a column or do a podcast of it.
"Sure" you agree, "as long as you don't eat me".
You regret the (attempt at a) joke as soon as it leaves your mouth, but that is gone when you hear him laugh. A little pride fills your chest, especially at the velvet-like sound.
"I won't" he raises his palms in a playful manner, "but he wants to".
Not anymore, you don't eat the people you save!
"He?" you quirk an eyebrow, "you better rush that explanation, yeah?"
"Sure" he chuckles, "uh?"
"Y/n" you answer, and the honeyed tone is back. God, you need to get a grip. This guy could snap you in, "but just for tonight, Casey Jean Parker. So you better put some good use to it before she leaves, cowboy"
"Will take it into account, blonde" he laughs at your hair.
You hate it because it reminds you of Anne, pussy.
"Hey, it's a good wig!" you playfully slap his shoulder. "You wish you had hair like this".
You flip it, to which he just laughs. Then he bids goodbye to Mrs. Chen and you both head outside, where the wind hits your body cruelly.
A curse leaves your mouth, "Shit"
Eddie notices. Before you can react, he's putting his jacket over your shoulders.
"You got the seasons messed up, baby" he jokes, the pet name rolling off his tongue a bit too easily, "don't even think about taking it off; don't want you to catch a cold".
There's a beat of silence before he asks:
"So, about the costume..."
"I know" you properly put his jacket on. It smells like him: pine, gasoline, sweat and a bit of chocolate. "It sounded better when I came up with it in August"
"No!" he corrects hastily, then coughs "I like it".
Light pink creeps up his cheeks.
"Good to know I still got the charm" you joke, winking.
"Was this" he points with his ringed fingers up and down, "for a contest?"
"No, a party. Jesus, how old do you think I am?" you chastise in a mocking tone. "It's what pretty college girls do, Eddie: party".
Venom likes parties! I like her, Eddie!
"And if that's what you do, pretty girl" two can play the game it seems, "what exactly are you doing out of the water, Ms. Parker?"
You scoff, shocked. "You're supposed to give me your answer first".
Fortunately for Brock, you have a bad habit to overshare; it gets worse, especially with men. God knows you don't know such thing as boundaries.
You lay against the concrete wall, exhaling. Your worries condense in front of you as Eddie waits attentively, examining the way your face falls.
"I was supposed to go to a party today, hence the costume" you motion to your body, "but things went wrong".
"So you went?"
"And left" you add, "which wasn't part of the plan".
He lays next to you, crossing his arms. You try not to get distracted with the closeness.
"Why did you?"
"Leave? Because... well, things happened".
Your skin prickles uncomfortably, like it did back at the house you ran away from―the whole reason you're here, next to Eddie.
"That thing being...?" Brock presses, then realizing you probably don't want to tell, so he shuts up.
"Don't worry" it's like you guess his thoughts, "It's just... sort of embarrassing".
You breathe in some air.
"He wasn't supossed to be there. My ex" you clarify, "yet he went. And guess what? With his new girlfriend! And alright, I'm not a girl who holds grudges, but it hasn't even been two months since we broke up and now he's matching costumes with her?"
Saying it out loud sounds a tad bit childish, but Eddie doesn't seem to be judging, and your pride continues to be bruised, so you carry on with your little rant.
"So I drank a little too much and went up to them. I don't know what took over me, but one second I was dancing and then Pamela Anderson in Baywatch was grabbing Pamela Anderson as Tommy Lee's wife by her hair. Real blonde hair, on top of that... that bitch. I decided to be Pamela Anderson first! Which, by the way, would never do that. She truly is a girl's girl" pause, "by that I mean parading around with the guy I ended things with because of you"
We should eat them.
Instead of what Venom said, Eddie asks:
"Your boyfriend cheated on you?"
"Yeah" embarrassment washes over you, "The owner of the house is friend's with her. So, I decided it was for the best to leave. My not so bright idea that followed was to walk to the nearest store for some junk and head home. And now I ended on this side of town I don't know. Lucky me"
Lucky us that found you.
"Wow" Eddie manages to muster after all your information dump and Venom's little comment, "they're idiots. I'm sorry".
"Thanks, but my night is still ruined" you take a look at your legs, "now I have to walk home, and I suspect, bare―without your jacket".
He doesn't know what takes over him when he says, or maybe it's Venom giving him the boost of courage he needs.
"Need'a ride?" your face morphs into surprise. He adds, "Keep my jacket. That way you can give it back when we're there"
Your eyes trail to the bike parked on the side, which you guess belongs to him. This is hard because the decision is so easy.
Hey, sometimes you gotta do it for the plot!
"We both win" is his way of insisting. "No more stares, and my jacket gets express delivered to me".
You don't need that much insisting, almost instantly caving in, walking over the bike and hoping behind him―like you know he'd never hurt you; full on trusting him.
"I don't have a spare one. Use mine" he apologizes, handing you the helmet he carried before.
"Thanks" you accept, "at this point I'll have to pay you. Do you accept my chocolates? It's all I got with me"
"We'll discuss those arrangements later" his deep voice comments, and well, you might just give him anything he wants!
Before you can regret your life choices, the engine roars, Eddie making his way through the street, all your surroundings reduced to a blur.
"Woah!" you shout, but it gets lost in the wind and speed. Luckily for you, the wig is secured inside the helmet. At this speed, there would be a blonde mop on the street somewhere.
"Liking it?" he asks over the noise. You only can happily humm in response.
Honestly, you've never felt this... free before. It's liberating: your hair dancing in the wind, the crisp trepidation in your fingers, the way you dare yourself to let loose and let the experience consume you. It's the first time you truly feel alive.
All you can think now is on the adrenaline coursing through your system. That and the way you're holding onto Eddie's thick back, your arms caging his form. You can feel his heartbeat too, as steady as yours. You can't help but wonder if it's because of the ride or the passenger he's carrying in the back.
You keep giving him directions whenever he looks back, keeping it like that until you both arrive at your apartment complex.
Once the bike is parked, he whistles. "Nice. Much better than mine"
You give his helmet back, taking the wig off in the process too.
"I'll have to see it to believe it" you tease, and if he heard, Eddie pretends not to.
There's some silence until you understand it's over: the original "stuffing and watching horror movies until I sleep" isn't sounding as good as extending your time with Eddie. For some reason, you can't seem to let go yet, and accept that tonight was a rare occasion that will only be once.
"Well, I guess this is it" you hate the way the obvious disappointment drips in your tone, "thank you, Eddie. Goodnight"
You hop off and take the jacket out of your body. If your skin gets goosebumps, you'll blame the cold.
Guess Pamela Anderson didn't work her magic tonight.
"Wait!"
Or maybe she did.
"Yes?" you turn around, smiling a bit too much.
Eddie doesn't look at you when he says, "we didn't discuss the payment"
Your red lips purse into a smile.
"We can discuss the details inside" and point out your apartment on the third floor, "for the cold, obviously. It's warm up there, you know; I've been told they like my heat"
You finally recognize the feeling from before, at the store. It's mutual. The tension; it still lingers.
"Sure" he says sounding all but that, "show me the way".
Your voice drops as you say, "Follow me, then"
And you lead the way: wet spot in between your legs, growing as your excitement. As you open the door, Eddie can't help but think the inside is so you: sweet and girly―like a strawberry bubblegum.
"Like what you see?" you joke, sitting in the couch. It has double meaning, obviously, but Eddie is so oblivious he just answers:
"It's so... you" mentally slapping himself when he says it, "I mean... you know, pink"
Idiot! She's talking about herself.
You giggle, "And?"
Patting the empty spot next to you, Brock walks over, like in a trance. You can see him gulp―nervous, the adam's apple on his throat bobbing.
Coward! Say something.
"Pretty..." he breathes out.
His hand finds its way to your bare thigh, and the touch is so electric, it takes you a lot not to jump at the contact.
Now kiss her!
"Don't be scared, Eddie" your voice is so low he swears he's dreaming. "I don't bite" there's a pause before you add, "unless you want me to".
Do it!
He would be lying if he said Venom is the reason why he leans forward, wrapping his lips around yours. Why he suddenly feels hungry, starving, eating your mouth out like he hasn't had a meal in days is beyond him.
"That's right" you moan between kisses, "cash your pay out, cowboy".
His hands tug on your hair as he deepens the kiss, a few groans echoing around the apartment.
"I like it" he twirls a strand in between your fingers, "suits you better".
There's a hearty laug emitting from your chest, "you do? Show me then"
It's like something snapped inside of him.
His hand moves to hug you from behind, right at the bare spot the swim suit had.
"You smell so sweet" Eddie's inhaling the vainilla scent off your soft skin, and Venom growls in pleasure, "like a pastry".
You have to laugh again, because this man is clearly touched starved.
Now he's rubbing his nose along the length of your neck, leaving some wet kisses that have you swearing his tongue isn't human. He mumbles incoherences like he's drunk, begging he wants to shove his mouth where it belongs: that being between your legs, to taste what he’s been craving for so long.
"Well, if you want it so bad" you make a play at his earlier words, "eat it".
So with trembling hands, he's pushing the little piece of bathing suit until your clit is exposed. His other hand grips your hip, and it doesn't take that long for him to fall onto his knees, the pink fluffly carpet on the floor providing some ground.
He beggins to toy with it, leaving you to collect a gasp. Alright! He has experience. Not that you ever doubted it, but now that he's here, his fingers inside of you, you can't help but feel the luckiest girl in the world.
"Thought the sweet you wanted was some chocolates" you manage to joke between moans, his thick fingers too busy lubing the needy area.
He gets another moan out of you, "this is better" grabbing a finger out, he licks a bit of your essence left on his fingers, "tastes much better. Look at you, so wet already; good girl"
Now he's doing tight little circles, his thick fingers speeding up the pace―quicker and quicker, until you're writhing in his grip. Your red nail dig into his forearm leaving little crescents. The haze may be too much that you don't know if the way they instantly heal is something you imagined or not.
"P-please, Eddie" you mewl.
Let me try, Eddie.
Without explaining, his tongue begins licking your inner thighs where your liquids dripped. It sends a shiver down your spine, and God, how thankful you are about leaving the party. The consequences of your petty fight and disastrous little adventure didn't end up being so bad.
"Sweet" he exclaims in that distorted voice back from the store. Your eyes go wide, so he rushes an "I'll explain later".
He doesn't give you much time to dwell on it before his tongue finds its way to your core again: the muscle licking the wet folds of your sensitive clit before diving fully. You swear his tongue has gotten longer with the way he explores your warm insides, quickly finding the spot no one but yourself has correctly pleased before.
Soft sobs fall from your lips. "Yes, More! P-please!"
His tongue continues its ministrations, almost lazily against it. Your body tenses up, reacting to him so well, and the familiar warmth pools in your abdomen.
He keeps licking until you’re twitching in over-sensitivity. A groan escapes his drooling lips, "I'm still a gentleman, you know?" the vibration his voice makes in between your legs sends a delicious wave that does nothing but ignite the fire pooling in the low of your stomach. "Ladies first"
You deliciously cum on his awaiting tongue. Even in your haze, you find his eyes, and the previous warm brown looks closer to hungry now, his pupils blown wide.
"Go ahead" you encourage, "be a good boy for me and taste it".
His fingers lick your remains off of them, his tongue making an obscene display.
"Will you let me pay you, now?"
He doesn't even need to wait, his hand eagerly taking his cock out of his pants―taking the sweat pants out in record time, sliding his girth between your legs, rubbing it against your folds that give him a warm welcome, coating it in your wetness.
Eddie slides inside you with ease, his hands resting on your waist as he slams his entire length inside you. The couch creaks, the only other sound in the apartment your hiss, because of the initial stretch. He gives you time to adjust and then he starts moving.
"Y/n, God. You pretty sweet thing" his hot breathe mumbles against your ear.
Never in your life you would've thought you'd gone home with a complete stranger, but by the way Eddie Brock is deep inside you right now, you may do it more often. Or even better, bring him back. Maybe meet his apartment next time.
Eddie thinks he's gone insane. He's never had sex like this before. Not even on his wildest dreams. Hell, doesn't know if it's the lack of activity before you, your filthy mouth dripping with moans or the way you perfectly wrap around him, or maybe his newfound stamina he could finally put to use, thanks to Venom. Maybe it's all that, but who cares? God, he's loving every second of it.
Eddie uses his hands to grab your ass, holding onto the soft flesh so firm, you'll have bruises tomorrow for sure. He starts pumping you fast and deep like an animal. You muffle your screams against the crook of his neck, fully aware that doesn't stop the paper thin walls from telling your neighbours the good time you're having.
You feel your moves start to get unsteady, your orgasm closer and closer. "I'm c-close" you blurt out and he growls instead of talking. The way your body jolts with each of his poundings is insane. Your friend will never let this go if you tell them. But it just feels so fucking good.
"Fuck!"
Your whole body shakes when the wave of pleasure heats you. His hand is suprinsingly soft, caressing your cheek as you rest your forehead against his to catch your breathe.
"That's the best sex I've ever had" he confesses, his voice sounding drunk. Every drop of alcohol in your system has completely vanished by now, but you feel dizzy too, the overstimulation driving your senses to it's limits.
But it doesn't make you stop.
"How can you rate something that hasn't finished?" you move your body so Eddie stays against the coach. When he realizes what you're trying to do, he half-supresses a moan. "If you want to give your opinion, you better finish the whole plate".
So now you're on top of him, riding his cock like nothing; you must also have a symbiote inside of you, because Eddie can't explain your infinite stamina. So young, so pretty and so goddamn tight; he really won tonight, huh?
The change of position makes his cock slightly change the angle, hitting your g-spot. "Oh my god, right here!" you gasp. Your pussy clenches while you keep bouncing on his dick. If it weren't for the bathing suit, your tits would be bouncing. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine them, your nipples perking through the fabric making it all too easy.
"You're so perfect" he whispers against your shoulder, "you sweet little thing".
If he keeps calling you like that, you might ask him to stay the night.
You feel like it, so, as a reward, you press your lips against his and he moans at your cunt clenching. He knows you are close again.
"Cum for me, y/n" he demands in his deep voice. Your name in his lips is such an addictive sound, you're sure you've reached heaven.
"Cum with me, Eddie" you manage to say.
So now he sits a little straighter on your poor couch (that's seen and taken only so much) so he can wrap his other arm around your waist. You take him deeper every time, even if now the position makes it a bit uncomfortable, but every shiver of pleasure you get is worth it.
"At least look at me when you do it" his brown orbs bore into yours. You can't hold back any longer, your hips rolling to increase the friction.
Your second orgasm washes over you: toes curling and body shaking. You've never felt more tired and energetic in your life. So you fall in Eddie's strong tattoed arms. He joins you, painting your tight walls with his thick and white shots of cum.
You are both out of breathe but Eddie takes his time and kisses you deeply.
"I think this life guard is out of duty for now" you mumble sleepily against his arms, tracing lazily his tattoos. He chuckles, moving one of his hands to brush strands of your damp hair from your forehead.
"What about the chocolates?" he jokes.
"Fuck them" you yawn, "stay here". He might've heard it wrong.
Stupid Eddie and stupid little human brain. She wants us here!
After some minutes of silence your sleepy voice mumbles, "You didn't explain me anything, cheater. If you want to stay, talk".
He feels you rest your head on his shoulder, sleep taking control of your form. You look so cute, he starts to forget how shitty his life actually is.
Hey! I can hear your thoughts, idiot. Your life isn't shitty anymore, I'm here!
"How about a bed time story? I promise I won't leave any detail out"
You cuddle closer to his warm body, "Promise?"
He intertwines his pinky finger with yours, promising himself this won't be the last time he sees you.
"Promise"
#dilfistwrites#eddie brock#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x you#eddie brock fanart#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock smut#eddie brock fanfic#venom#venom movie#venom symbiote#venom smut#venom spoilers#venom 3#venom the last dance#marvel#marvel smut#pls excuse the filth<3
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Spoiled - LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x gn!reader
Word Count: 800+
Warning: making fun of the british (slightly), expired food
A/N: the idea popped into my head after watching max's stream a few days ago. Also i'm pretty sure its Lando's birthday already somewhere in europe!
F1 Masterlist / Masterlist
Some days you wondered how Lando was still alive. Never mind driving a rocket ship on wheels for living, no, it was because he decide to put anything in his body without a second thought. Despite spending millions on cars and watches and other material items he didn't give a second thought about something he needs to survive, food. You blamed it on him being british and the fact that they don't have anything good to eat. You knew about the sweet potato incident, even if it was before you knew him. Finding out he went and ate spoiled food again was enough to give you the ick and put your foot down.
The plan was simple. Buy new groceries, do some meal prep and clean out the fridge for Lando while he was playing Tarkov with his friends. He mentioned that he was going to play all day and that max was going to stream later on in the night. That gave you enough time to run to the store and cook some easy meals so you could surprise him with a full fridge.
After waking up early and sending a text to Lando that you were going to drop off something later tonight, you headed to the grocery store to pick up everything you needed. A bunch of fresh produce to meal prep and some snacks that can last on the shelf for a few months. With Lando's strict diet (or lack of there) you pulled out all the stops for a healthy and tasty meal.
As night time crept up you packed everything in bags and made your way over to his apartment. You got a notification that max started his stream a few ago so it was the perfect time to sneak in and fill his kitchen while dropping off some dinner. Any noise you made wouldn't be too out of the blue seeing as he knew you were coming and that you already had a key.
While entering the house you could already hear the screaming and weird random sounds coming out of your boyfriends gaming room. That should keep him distracted for awhile. First you started with cleaning and sterilizing his fridge. Doubt he didn't have much which is probably why he ate expired chicken, but one could never be too careful. Once that was over with you packed away all his food that should last for the week. Seeing the finished product brought a smile to your face. At least he was going to be eating good for the week.
Once his current raid ended you quietly made your way into the room being aware that his mic was on and that possibly a couple thousand fans could hear what could be said, even with this shit mic. When his door opened he saw you and an immediate smile was plastered on his face.
"Hey baby." He smiled taking off his headphones and motioning you to come by him.
"Hi. I just came to drop off dinner. Don't want to keep you long." You smiled placing the plastic bag on his desk before he pulled you onto his lap.
"It's okay, raid just ended and the mic is off. Stay for a few seconds."
"Alright. I made you my famous stir fry. There's another serving in the fridge for tomorrow." You said bringing out the food and fork setting it up for him.
"What would i do without you."
"Eat expired chicken."
"Haha i get it." He gave a fake laugh making a real one erupt from your throat.
"Yeah you seriously gave me the ick. This was going to be a surprise but i stocked up your fridge and did some meal prep. You just have to heat it up in the microwave, although i'm scared you'll even mess that up." You laughed at another joke your boyfriend seemed to be the butt of.
"Move in with me." All of the joking mood went out of the room as he looked at you with a serious almost pleading expression.
For you it came out of the blue. Sure you've been together for almost two years and you've spent a good portion out of the year traveling with him to races, but moving in together never crossed your mind. It seemed like the next logical thing in the relationship but neither of you brought the topic up till now.
"What?"
"Sorry, i was either going to blurt out that or marry me. I figure it's best to go in order." The words came out like it wasn't the most bizarre thing he could say in the moment.
"You're crazy."
"Yeah, for you. So what do you say?" How could you say no to that adorable smile.
"Well someone needs to keep you alive." a smile slowly crept upon your face liking the idea of seeing with him more and being closer to him. Also it would save you money, monaco wasn't cheap.
"Perfect." He said leaning in for a kiss before you pulled away.
"I'm not kissing you after you just ate expired chicken."
"That was yesterday!"
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1#formula 1
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LIE DETECTOR TEST : ISAGI YOICHI
⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions
⊹ pairing : isagi yoichi x reader (established relationship)
⊹ wc : 543
⊹ warnings : reader is referred to as “girl” with she/her pronouns, suggestive, mentions of oral sex, if I’m missing something pls lmk!! MINORS DNI
⊹ A/N : this is a repost from my prev blog bc i wanna continue this series and i cant post the next part without the context from this one so if it looks familiar, thats why. ALSO if anyone has a reblog of bachira's part somewhere pls send me the link!!
⊹ bachira’s version | kunigami’s version
“Ready?”
“Yeah, let’s do this”
“@/isagisbbybgrl asks How big is your dick?”
Isagi had practically choked on his own spit at the question. “Wha—why is this the first question?!”
“I’m just reading out what Twitter wants to know?”, the interviewer laughs at the shock in his face. “Now answer the question.”
Isagi, Kunigami and Bachira were currently sat side by side across from their interviewer. They had been invited to guest star on LockX , one of the most popular podcasts to date relating to everything and anything Blue Lock. And today they were asked to answer a few fan questions from Twitter all while hooked up to a lie detector. Up first was Isagi, who looked like he was already regretting coming today.
“Like 10 inches” he sighed out. All heads turned to the polygraph examiner— Milo was his name.
“There’s no way—“
“Truth”
Bachira laughs out at Kunigami’s disbelief while the latter mumbles to himself. Something about not believing it till he sees it himself.
“Wait, now I’m curious” Bachira scooted forward and turned to Isagi. “How much of it does your girl take in her mouth?
“What the fuck Megs? Nope. I’m not talking about Y/N here. Not like that.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but more than half these Twitter asks are about her,” the interviewer adds.
“Come onnnn Yoichi”
“Fine. All of it. Next question”
“Milo?”
“He’s telling the truth” Milo nods back, while the room fills with whistles and cheers to Isagi, who’s hidden his face behind a hand but can’t help the proud smirk that grows on his face at the thought of you taking all of him.
“Okay okay” the interviewer laughs before he directs his next question, “User @/mysagiballs asks where is your favorite place to kiss a partner?”
“Hey at least this one’s not about Y/N”
“Ehh it technically is,” Bachira counters.
“It basically is,” Isagi sighs once again, finally accepting that this is what the rest of the interview will be like. “Her lips, that’s my favorite place to kiss her”
“He’s lying.”
“Wha- No I’m not!”
“Another lie”
“I feel like of all the questions you’ve been asked, this is the most mild.” Kunigami speaks up.
“But you’re lying about it, which means there’s something juicy you’re hiding” Bachira teases.
“Fine, her cheek”
“Still lying”
“Seriously Milo!”
This continues on for a few minutes, Isagi calling out a bodypart and Milo calling out his bullshit.
Her neck. Lie. Her shoulders. Lie. Her hands. Lie.
Meanwhile Bachira and Kunigami have practically fallen off the sofa in tears, laughing at how frustrated Isagi grows with every call of his bluff.
“Between her legs, alright?! I’m not getting any more specific than that. You can figure the rest out yourselves I’m sure”, he glares at Milo as he grumbles out his final answer.
“That was the…truth”
It takes a few moments for Bachira to calm down from his hysterics but then he’s teasing Isagi for being so naughty, giggling at the sight of his friend aggressively ripping off the cuffs and sensors connecting him to the polygraph.
“Yeah yeah, laugh all you want now but you’re going next.” Isagi grins at him, excited to see his friend suffer the same as he did.
#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#isagi yoichi#bllk isagi#blue lock isagi#isagi x reader#isagi x you#isagi yoichi x reader#blue lock anime#bllk lie detector series
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adore you
pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3
summary:
Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?
c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party
read below or on ao3 here <3
“So, you and Hotch, huh?”
You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.
You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”
You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”
“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”
You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.
Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”
And that catches your attention.
Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”
Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”
And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.
You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.
One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.
It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.
But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.
You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.
The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.
For no reason.
When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.
You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.
Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.
He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.
The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.
It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.
But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.
He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.
You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.
When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.
His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.
He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.
You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.
You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.
It was going to be a long night.
-
You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.
It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.
Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.
You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.
So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.
“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.
“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”
You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.
And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.
He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.
“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.
Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.
And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.
Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.
Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.
You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”
Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?
When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.
You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”
He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”
And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.
At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?
You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.
You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.
But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.
He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.
He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.
And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.
You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.
You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”
There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.
You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.
Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.
He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.
It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.
When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.
It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.
By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.
“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.
“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.
When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.
You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?
“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”
You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.
“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”
The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.
Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”
“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?
And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.
“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.
This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.
“You’ve been flirting with me?”
Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”
You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.
For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.
Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.
You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”
Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”
Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.
It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.
When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”
“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.
“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.
On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.
You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.
#posting this and immediately going 2 sleep gn#lovers1kevent#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x reader fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#mine#criminal minds fic
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Can you write something with D16 and a human reader please? Maybe like seeing a human for the first time and befriending eachother, then the reader develops feelings because I mean....D16 XD (There is literally nothing of transformers one 😭) PS. I don't know why but I feel like transformers one character at least the miners are closer to human height for some reason 🤣 (sorry for yapping I'm obsessed)
D-16 X READER
Ok so…very unrealistic because yknow, no humans on cybertron. However I made up my own scenario :3 in my mind humans reach about to the knees of mine bots. You’ll make it work..
Human! Reader
Dumb fluff, no sad stuff
Reader is a space explorer who SOMEHOW MAGICALLY managed to successfully land on Cybertron with some of their survival kit intact (food, water, etc). What they didn’t expect was to encounter a train looking vehicle, hopping in it out of curiosity. What they also never expected was the train to start moving at full speed, charging inside of the planet as the crust literally opened up.
Your throat almost went sore because of your screaming.
You shifted, groaning as you sat up from your laying position. God, your head was pounding, what even happened? The ground beneath you was cold and rough, like the texture of popcorn wall if it were made of metal. Around you, you could hear the sound of wheels screeching, metal banging. Whatever you were on was not a smooth ride.
You opened your eyes, your breath hitched as you saw a figure above you. They were looking straight forward, both their hands placed on the edge of the cart. And they were not human. No human is that big.
You swiveled your head around you, seeing a pile of large rocks surrounding you. They were glowing a bright blue, looking quite radioactive. Okay, maybe you and your team expected a tiny bit of life here—but not a whole…whatever this was. You slowly stood up, carefully making your way towards the rock nearest to you. You struggled to move, all the rocks were basically covering your body. The rocks rolled over softly as you lifted an arm.
“Hey there,”
You froze, hearing a deep voice above you. You turned around, eyeing the figure still looking away from you. They looked to their side, mimicking the human expression of curtly smiling and nodding to someone to their right. You sighed in relief.
Placing both your palms on the edge of the cart, you pulled yourself up, letting the rocks fall away from your legs. You peeled your head over the cart, your eyes widening at the life around you. Sooo many robot beings walking around and pushing minecarts, all in different colors and similar size. You let out a small gasp.
D-16 raised a brow, hearing a noise just below him. He did a double take as he saw..something poking out of his cart. He froze. You froze. You both frozed.
“AHH!” You both yelled at the same time, backing away from eachother.
You fall back in between the rocks, probably scraping your back against one. Simotaniously, he bumped into someone’s cart in back of him, he muttered an awkward apology as he hurried along with his cart—he couldn’t let anyone else see this…thing.
He rushed over, taking a sharp turn and away from everyone doing their jobs.
When he stopped, he leaned over his cart to take a good look at you.
“Okay…what! What are you?” He whispered yelled, honestly feeling a bit defensive. You couldn’t blame him, he’s never seen a species like you. Sure, you were smaller. You were about the size of his leg..definitely shorter.
“I uh..I could ask the same thing…” you nervously said.
When you two first met you were very cautious of eachother. You were both scared. I think it took him a while to realize you were from a wholeee different planet. You were a space explorer? That’s cool! He’s definitely going to ask you about cybertrons surface, even though you insist you only saw it for a couple minutes before being kidnapped by a train.
He becomes so interested in you. Eventually, you OF COURSE get introduced to Orion. He had the same reaction, but was equally as intrigued. We all know how much he loves history and learning, they’re both gonna ask so many questions. They do everything to keep you hidden away from other bots, ESPECIALLY DarkWing. Orion has never seen D-16 as enthusiastic about someone as he is about you. (Maybe except for Megatronious)
The three of you are almost always together, but you definitely spend more time with D. Instead of getting rest after a long day in the mines, he takes you around with you sitting atop his shoulder—just talking. Whenever he hears a bot approaching, he quickly snatches you off and holds you behind his back. Definitely not obvious.
Rest in piece to privacy, because you both have NONE! We saw how none of the miners have individual sleeping areas. You have to constantly sneak away—usually it’s places where Orion has taken him. Imagine being taken to their special places :((
You spend longer than you thought on Cybertron, it’s not like you had a choice. Your pod was left on the surface and most definitely scrapped for materials. No one knows who or what and where the mysterious person from the pod is. Lucky you
It’s only logical you begin to fall for D-16. He’s oddly charming, funny, dedicated, and caring. You spend all your time together. He introduced you to his best friend. He tells you about all his plans. Plus, it’s always exciting to go on little trips together, potentially risking getting caught. These trips eventually turn into dates btw
He has definitely called you cute and pet your head with one digit. Yeah that kinda did it, even though he meant it as a tease
You know that scene where the two went racing? They were in first place, they’re exhausted and D got hit. Despite this he grins, looking back at the cameras which he knows are streaming the race. He knows you’re watching all the way from that green light.
“This is for Y/—!!“ he begins, only to be interrupted when a jet zooms past them, knocking them both over and sending them flying. Idiots <3
#transformers#transformers x reader#maccadam#transformers one#tf one#tf one spoilers#tf one x reader#d 16#d16 x reader#megatron#megatron x reader#human reader#gn reader
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oh, the idea of satoru attempting to get his hands on you numerous times throughout the day but keeps getting interrupted (bc y’know, he’s a busy sorcerer) and then finally snapping because he’s so pent up that he can’t think about anything other than fucking you makes me giggle.
smut under the cut. MDNI. also, barely proof-read so sorry for mistakes lol.
----
You squeal with excitement when you hear the door to the apartment unlock. Satoru was home. Finally, he was back after spending two weeks away on business. The moment you see just a glimpse of his white hair, you rush towards him and wrap him in a tight hug, him lowering his Infinity just in time to scoop you off of your feet. You're hit with the scent of his cologne, the feel of his soft hair underneath your fingers, and you sigh in relief. Finally.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets with his usual smirk as your legs wrap around his waist. “Miss me?”
He kisses you before you can respond, so you settle for humming into his mouth. He walks you both over to the living room, gently setting you on the couch before climbing on top of you. Your hands fumble with his jacket, and he helps you out by taking it off. He breaks away from your mouth to start doting messy kisses down your neck and collarbone. “Mmm, fuck. Missed you too,” he says, his voice deep with lust. “Been wanting this for so long, baby.”
His phone vibrates, and he ignores it, deciding to focus on pulling your shirt up instead. When it continuously vibrates with multiple calls, he sighs irritatedly and pulls it from his pocket to see Yaga’s name on the screen.
You giggle from underneath him, pulling your shirt back down and sitting up. “I think you should get that.”
“This isn’t over,” he promises. He gets up and answers the phone, holding it up to his ear. “This better be important. …Huh?! I just got back from a mission, what the hell do you mean the higher-ups want to talk?!”
— — — —
“Alright, you all. That’s it for today,” you conclude your lesson with a clap, and the second years begin to gather their things. “Geto will meet you all in the field so you can have a lesson that’s a bit more active. Have fun!”
They all express their excitement, then make their way outside of the classroom. They pass Satoru on the way out, who had just arrived only a few minutes before the end of your lesson. “Yeah, yeah, what she said. Hey, Okkotsu!”
“Yes?” Yuta calls back.
“Remember to—”
“Work on that cursed energy control. Yeah, I got it,” the boy groans.
You shake your head with a tiny laugh as Satoru shuts the door to the classroom. “I swear, Yuta is trying his best. He’s— Whoa!”
Your back suddenly hits the wall, and Satoru is in front of you. His blindfold is raised, and you see the utter hunger pooling in his blue eyes before he’s kissing you, similar to the way he did that morning. You moan into his mouth, and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Mmm, fuck. T-Toru, we’re—”
“Shhhhh,” he hushes against your lips. “Didn’t I tell you that this wasn’t over?” His hand begins to trail further down your body, eager fingers hurriedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Just try to be as quiet as possible, baby. I’ll be quick. Gonna make you feel so good—”
He’s cut off with a knock at the door. “Gojo, are you in here?”
Nanami.
“Busy!” He yells, a bit on the harsher side.
“You’re with [Y/L/N] right now. Her lesson with the second years just ended. You do know that around this time, you’re supposed to be training the first years, right?”
Satoru looks at the clock at the wall, then winces. It’s true, but still, he desperately needed you, otherwise he thought that he’d explode. “Just tell them I’m—”
“Can’t. They’re right here with me,” Kento says flatly. “They’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.”
You hear Yuuji’s excited voice next. “Hey, Gojo-sensei! How was your mission?!”
“Itadori, no need to shout. Seriously, we’re all right here,” Megumi grumbles.
“I’m with Fushiguro on this one,” Nobara comments.
Satoru groans into your shoulder, and his fist hits the wall. Unable to take his strength, it caves, leaving a nice-sized hole next to the chalkboard. You stifle a laugh. Thank goodness that this wasn’t your classroom and you were only borrowing it.
He inhales sharply, then masks his annoyance and sexual frustration with a smile. “Alright! Be out in a second!” He calls out to them.
He sees you laughing into your hand, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Just wait ‘till later.”
— — — —
‘Later’ was far later than Satoru had hoped. After training the first years, Yaga talked to him about the next exchange event and how they were behind on planning, and then he had to shadow the second years on a mission that lasted what felt like forever.
You’re back in the apartment, humming as you finish tidying up the living room. You grab the basket of laundry, sit down, and begin folding towels. It was close to eight in the evening. You’re about to grab your phone to check on Satoru when you hear the door opening.
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that I’d have to come and help out,” you say without looking up. “I mean, yeah, the curse was lower-ranked, but sometimes the second years—” You cut yourself off with a surprised scream as Satoru effortlessly hoists you with one arm, puts you over his shoulder and walks in the direction of your bedroom. Once you’re in there, he lightly tosses you on the bed, then yanks off his blindfold. His eyes are dark with a mixture of the hunger you saw earlier, and frustration.
“No more bullshit,” he says as he climbs over you, gathering your wrists and pinning them above your head. “If someone else interrupts, I might just hollow purple them.” When he kisses you, it’s far more intense than he’s ever kissed you today. His tongue explores your mouth, and you moan from the dizzying, yet pleasurable sensation. It’s not long before you’re both panting. His hands grip your shirt, and the sound of fabric tearing fills your ears. You gasp, your mouth falling open in shock when the scraps of your shirt as well as your bra are tossed aside.
Satoru is breathing hard above you, nearly drooling as he stares at your upper body, his white hair beautifully framing his face. He dives in and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off of the bed when you feel his tongue swirl around the sensitive bud, and you whine his name needily. He moans, alternating between using his teeth to leave gentle love bites on your tits and using his tongue on your nipples. It’s messy, greedy, and you don’t ever want it to stop.
Finally, he kisses further down your stomach, pulling down your leggings along with your panties and tossing them to the bedroom floor. He spreads your thighs, then licks a long stripe up your pussy, a loud, shameless groan of relief escaping him when he finally tastes you. “Oh, fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he sighs, and he smiles devilishly up at you as he readjusts his hold on your thighs. “Think this pussy missed me just as much, if not more. She’s fucking soaked.”
He only gives you a split second to take a breath to prepare yourself, then he’s devouring you as if he were poisoned and the antidote was inside of your pussy. His tongue swipes expertly across your folds, then it flicks against your clit. You bury your hands into your hair as pleasure zips through your body, the rest of the world fading away until all that’s left is you and Satoru. “Toru- Ohhhhh shit, baby. Fuck-” You gasp desperately when he gently sucks your clit into his mouth. He’s moaning loudly, drunk off of the taste of your pussy and from the feeling of you pulling his hair.
You grind your hips against his face when you feel a knot beginning to form in your lower stomach, your breath stuttering as it tightens. You knew that this orgasm was going to blow any orgasm you gave yourself during the last two weeks while he was away on business completely out of the water. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you manage to tell him in between pants. “Oh, god, Toru, right there, right there, right there-” You feel your body begin to clench, ready to release.
But then, Satoru stops.
You whine frustratedly as your orgasm fades away before you could reach it, looking down at your boyfriend in between your thighs, who’s smiling deviously. “That was for laughing at me earlier,” he says after licking the rest of your juices off of his lips. “Not so funny now, is it?””
On a normal day, you’d be stubborn and attempt to piss him off, but today was different. Your head rests on the pillow, and your chest rises and falls with every pant, groaning in defeat. “Satoru, please,” you beg, keeping your voice as low as possible so he doesn’t hear the utter desperation.
Satoru feigns confusion, and you see the pure delight in his eyes. Little shit. “Sorry, baby, what was that?” he asks.
“Please,” you repeat louder. “Make me cum.”
He hums as he pulls off his shirt. “I’ll think about it.” He stands up, and you sit up to help him with his pants, eager to taste him and take his cock down your throat. You pull his underwear down, and he stops you when he catches onto what you’re doing. “Another time, baby. Right now, I just really need to fuck you.” He kisses you once, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. “It’s been too long. Lay back.”
You lie back on the mattress, and he grabs your legs to gently pull you towards the edge of the bed, then places them on his shoulders. He slides his cock in, and the both of you moan in relief. Satoru doesn’t waste any time and starts fucking you fast, which you two needed. Being separated for two weeks on top of the usual stress of missions and teaching was horrible for you both. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Satoru moans loudly, not caring if anyone else heard, his eyes practically rolling into his head from the pleasure. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.”
He slows the speed of his thrusts, but intensifies them by going harder, the salacious sounds of his hips meeting yours filling the room. Satoru looks down at you, taking in the o-shape of your mouth, your closed eyes and the way you're gripping the bedsheets as you whimper his name. He has to bite the inside of his mouth so he doesn’t cum too quickly.
“Sat- Satoru,” you moan out deliriously as you open your eyes, gasping when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- Ah- so deep.” Tears blur your vision, and your boyfriend chuckles as he leans down closer to you, his thrusts relentless. Satoru kisses your cheek, then uses a thumb to wipe away a tear.
“Aw,” he coos condescendingly into your ear. “You cryin’?”
Your nails drag down his back, and he reaches in between where your bodies are connected to rub gentle circles on your clit. You feel that knot begin to form again, far more intense than before since you were edged earlier. “F-Fuck, Toru, I-” You’re cut off when his mouth meets yours for another messy kiss. He continues rubbing your clit, and you whimper behind his lips. He groans when your pussy begins to tighten around his cock. You grip his shoulders to steady yourself as your breathing begins to come out in short bursts.
“Let go, baby, it’s okay,” Satoru purrs into your ear. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
Your legs tense, your toes curl, and stars fill your vision as your orgasm takes you by force. You’re screaming his name as your body trembles, and Satoru murmurs encouragement into your ear as he fucks you through it. “Thaaaat’s it, pretty girl,” you hear, then he groans, also so close to finishing, his thrusts growing sloppy. “Fuck, baby...”
Though you’re dizzy from your orgasm, you muster enough focus to kiss him. You stroke his face, lovingly run a hand through his hair, then wrap your legs around his waist to bring him in even closer, encouraging him to give everything to you. You wanted him to cum—needed him to. The kiss and the faint pulsing of your pussy pushes him over the edge, and Satoru moans loudly into your mouth as he stills, spilling his thick load deep within you and coating your walls. He cums hard, his grip on you tightening as he breathes heavily. Finally, he collapses, but is careful not to crush you with his weight.
Both of you are silent for a moment, remaining with each other as you mellow in the aftershocks of your orgasms. “Shit,” Satoru breathes out with a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. I thought I blacked out for a second.”
You laugh with him, then press a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home.”
“Happy to be back. Missed you like crazy. Can’t believe I had to wait all day for that.”
“Missed you too, and same here, but you gotta admit, it was funny.”
Satoru tenderly smiles down at you, and your heart stutters at the sight of it. You were always weak for that specific smile. “It was, but, uh… you wanna know something else that might be funny?”
“Hm?”
“We broke the bed.”
“....What?”
----
a/n: I just had to add "the" line lol. I couldn't resist.
#jjk x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru smut#satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#written by rey <3#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#my writing#gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo imagine#satoru imagine#sorry y'all I was horknee af
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7, 22, 38
OOO thanks so much anon !!
fe3h asks
7. Favourite Blue Lions character?
NOOOOOOOOOOOO--
...Okay so because I was like ohhh nooo I don't know how to decide ahhhhhhh how do i piiiick I let the sorter do it AND SOMEHOW ???? FELIX WAS THE TOP BLUE LION FOR ME LMAO
I mean that's also fair: I think I was saying I gravitate the most towards swordsman characters (sword!!!! cool!!!!!) but I do remember how much I liked the different characterizations/exploration of his character depending which route ur on -- at least between Blue Lions Felix vs Crimson Flower Felix. I still think a lot about his reflection on when Dimitri dies in Crimson Flower and it makes me :((((
ALSO also his supports were good. I still laugh a lot about his one with Annette and Lysithea for example. Or the one with Bernadetta lolol But the serious ones hoo they hit
22. Favourite scene?
One of my fave scenes was the reunion scene with Dimitri actually asdlkfjh I remember running into a post that was talking about the placement of the lords in light and I was breaking apart about Dimitri being in the shadows and rejecting Byleth's hand. I think a lot about that scene and it kinda warms my heart everytime I see art referencing that scene ;; 0 ;;
38. Most heartbreaking death?
No one asked but there's a reason why I hate doing Crimson Flower and never want to do it again because I DON'T WANT TO GO AGAINST DIMITRI :(((((((( I DON'T LIKE HURTING HIM AND I HATE SEEING THE WAY HE GOES OUT
Dedue in that route ALSO gets a shoutout because when he becomes those crest monster things (forgot what they're called) I GOT SO DEVASTATED THAT I HAD TO COMPLETELY STOP AND THEN CALLED MY BEST FRIEND ABOUT IT TO COOL OFF LMAO
#ACTUALLY IM MAD THAT FELIX GOT THE TOP PLACE FOR BLUE LIONS#IM DUNKING HIM A LAKE AS WE SPEAK GET FUCKED FEEFEE.#also i have to thank nick for sitting through my fe3h phase because i had no one else to talk to about it at that point right?#so like everytime i just needed to scream. id just call him up and go HEY SO LIKE... GUESS WHAT HAPPENED#or text him too either way#I THINK LIKE dimitris death in particular makes me sad. ik he dies in golden deer and silver snow too but its off screen#meanwhile we actively see him screaming at edelgard before she kills him#and that makes me sad especially knowing whats going through dimitris head atm#i probably wouldve been better off starting black eagles first before blue lions and it wouldnt make me feel as sad with black eagles#HOWEVER I HAD ONE BRAIN AT THAT POINT AND WAS SOOOO IN LOVE WITH BLUE LIONS YOU HAVE NO IDEA LMAOOO#OMGGG WAIT let me tell you anon!!!#i went through crimson flower as sUUUUCH as a soursap i swear !!!#and then when i finished the route#i was like 'hmm well at least i know whats going to happen. perhaps i can try again!'#tried to start up another gameplay of black eagles. got mad by ch 3 i think and then stopped entirely LOL#answered#anons#much appreciated friend !!!
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Sunshine in His Shadows
Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)
Summary: When Bucky withdraws into himself one night, you’re determined to remind him that his past doesn't define him and he doesn’t have to carry his burdens alone.
Word Count: Roughly 1.8k
Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst, mentions of his trauma and anxiety
Author’s Note: You can never go wrong with fluff and a bit of angst. And, I already have an idea for a lighthearted part 2
Part 2: Teddy Bear Bucky
Also, I added a taglist form!
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Divider by: @strangergraphics
The compound was quiet at night, except for the occasional creak of floorboards as you wandered the halls. You found Bucky sitting alone in the kitchen. His was tense; you could tell by how his metal hand clenched into a fist as if he were holding something invisible but heavy.
You hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to intrude. But you didn’t want him to feel alone, not when you could at least offer warmth.
“Hey,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You didn’t go out either, huh?”
Bucky glanced at you briefly, his blue eyes shadowed by something deeper than being tired. He didn’t respond; he just gave a quiet nod before turning his gaze back to the window. When he didn’t tell you to get lost, you took that as permission to sit beside him.
For a while, there was silence. Comfortable but heavy.
You wanted to break it but didn’t want to push too hard before Bucky closed up again. Finally, after gathering your courage, you spoke, your voice as gentle as the night breeze.
“Bucky, um, you never talk about your past.”
Bucky tensed further, his jaw clenching tightly. You noticed how his breathing changed, becoming shallower as if the very mention of his past dragged him underwater.
“I just, I want to understand you better,” you added carefully, your voice barely a whisper. “Not what I hear from others. I want to know you.”
There was a sharp flicker of something in his eyes, maybe pain or even fear. He stood up with his back to you, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t,” he muttered, his voice low. “It’s not something someone like you should hear. You’re too good for that darkness.”
Your heart ached.
He was trying to protect you from himself.
You stood, stepping toward him, your hand reaching out. Your fingers brushed against his metal arm, and he stiffened, though he didn’t pull away.
“Bucky,” you whispered, barely above a breath. “But you’re not that person anymore. You’re our Bucky. You’re my Bucky.”
That was all it took.
His head lowered, his eyes closing as if to shut out the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. He tried to say something but stopped, his throat tight.
“I don’t…” His voice broke, and he took a step back, needing space. He literally had to walk away before he started crying because you, his sunshine, had said it with such genuineness, with such unwavering faith in him, that it shattered the walls he’d spent years building.
You didn’t follow him. You knew Bucky well enough by now to understand that he needed time. But it didn’t stop you from calling after him, your voice like a balm to his wounds. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
An hour later, he found you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You were lost in thought, and when you noticed him standing there, you offered a small, sweet smile.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said softly. “I just care about you.”
Bucky sat down beside you. His expression was guarded, but the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable. He didn’t know how to explain what he felt. It didn’t make sense how someone like you, all warmth and light, could look at someone like him and see something worth loving.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t want to lose this. You. I don’t deserve this.”
You reached out, your hand slipping into his, fingers threading through his calloused ones. “You’re not going to lose me, Bucky. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll be a pest till the day I die.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. For the first time in what felt like forever, he believed it might be true, that maybe he wasn’t beyond saving.
In that quiet moment, with your hand in his and the weight of his past still heavy but not so suffocating, Bucky felt something stir inside him.
Hope.
Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at your hand in his as if trying to memorize the way your smaller fingers fit perfectly between his. You gave his hand a little squeeze, encouraging him, grounding him.
Slowly, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shifted closer to you until your shoulders brushed.
Then, without warning, he pulled you into a bear hug. His arms wrapped around you tightly, lifting you off the couch with ease.
You let out a surprised squeal, then burst into laughter, your warm giggles filling the room like music. “Bucky!” you laughed, squirming in his grip, but not making any real effort to escape. “Put me down, you big grump!”
“Nope,” he muttered, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You earned this, sunshine. Gotta make sure you don’t float away with all that sweetness.”
You laughed harder at his dorky joke, and Bucky felt something loosen inside him. Holding you like this, hearing your laughter, made him feel lighter in a way he didn’t fully understand yet.
Eventually, he sat back down with you still in his arms, refusing to let go. You shifted until you were comfortably nestled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that made you smile.
“You know,” you murmured, “for someone who pretends to be all grumpy and scary, you’re actually a giant teddy bear.”
Bucky snorted. “Don’t spread that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, sunshine.”
You grinned up at him, mischief dancing in your eyes. “Oh, you mean the reputation where you glare at everyone and grunt like a caveman?”
“Exactly,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ve worked hard on that, kid.”
You poked him in the chest. “I’m not a kid! I’m 22! An adult, thank you very much.”
“Sure, kid,” he said, smirking now. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You pouted, which only made his smirk widen. He loved teasing you, loved the way you’d get all huffy and indignant, but never really mad. One of his favorite things about you was your ability to turn his grumpiness into something lighthearted.
“You’re a meanie,” you muttered, crossing your arms but leaning further into his warmth. He noticed and gently squeezed you, his metal fingers brushing against your side with surprising tenderness.
“Yeah, well,” he said quietly, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “You’re not so bad yourself. Annoying, sure. But good.”
The words caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, but the pink creeping up his neck told you everything. Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, your grumpy protector, was embarrassed.
A soft smile spread across your face. “Thanks, Bucky.”
“Don’t mention it,” he grumbled, still refusing to look at you. “Seriously. Don’t.”
There was a peaceful silence between you both before he asked about your day.
"Steve and Sam tried to teach me how to throw a shield today," you said, laughing at the memory. "I think I’m better off with a frisbee than that thing. I nearly took out a window when I threw it, and you should’ve seen their faces. I thought for sure they were going to cry." You chuckled again, shaking your head as you continued. "Then, Tony called me kiddo for the tenth time today. Like, does he even know my name anymore?"
Bucky couldn't help but smile at that, even if he didn't say anything. He was content to listen, his usual grumpy exterior slipping away with each little story you shared.
"Oh, and Clint swears he didn’t hide my favorite mug, but I know he did. I’ll bet anything he’s got it stashed somewhere just to mess with me." You sighed dramatically, leaning back against him, and Bucky could feel the warmth of your body settle into his.
He didn’t respond, not really needing to. There was something soothing about the sound of your voice, something soothing about you.
You made it so easy just to exist in the moment with no expectations or judgments. And for Bucky, that was everything.
Your voice continued, but the words blurred together as you rambled on. He wasn’t listening anymore; he was too focused on how your presence steadied him. A quiet, almost fond smirk tugged at his lips as he listened to your endless chatter. He didn’t mind it. If anything, he found himself savoring it. This was normal. This was simple. You were simple in the best way possible.
As you spoke, your words slowed, drifting into quieter murmurs, and your breath steadied as sleep took over. One moment, you were telling him about a joke you shared with Wanda earlier that day, and the next, you were asleep, your body sinking into him completely. Your head had slipped against the crook of his neck. You looked so peaceful, and he didn’t have the heart to wake you.
Bucky froze for a moment, unsure what to do. You were so relaxed, so completely at ease in his arms. He could feel your breath against his skin and hesitated for the first time in a long while.
He muttered, his voice soft with a trace of disbelief. "Great. Now what, sunshine?" But there was no real annoyance there. Just a quiet acknowledgment that you’d stolen his peace in the best way possible.
Most nights, he would sleep on the floor, his back against something hard or leaning against the wall to keep his thoughts from overwhelming him. Touch was a foreign thing for him. But here you were, curled up against him like he was some sort of human teddy bear, and somehow, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt okay—more than okay.
He carefully adjusted his position. He let out a quiet sigh, his head resting against the couch. Every instinct told him he should move, that he wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, but when he glanced down and saw the soft smile on your face even in sleep, something inside him softened.
He stayed perfectly still, letting the warmth of your body and the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into something he rarely felt: calm. His eyes drifted shut, and for once, the memories didn’t come. There were no flashes of his past or haunting images of who he used to be. Just you, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, jolting up in a cold sweat or reaching for a weapon.
He simply slept, wrapped in warmth, feeling something close to peace.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
If you'd like to be added to my taglist
Much love x
- Maeve
#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#grumpy x sunshine#comehomebucky#the kids miss you#tooth rotting fluff#lil bit of angst#grumpy#sunshine#grumpy and his sunshine
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ekko enemies to lovers? literally metal flowers was SO! GOOD! where reader is a pilte and she goes down with cait and vi in s1?
┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗘꒱
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a007e37d3d721da4ec7fe919d659a98c/212c525fadb2e906-5a/s540x810/64a24a9f1d0a729638390c7acdb285e690e33c83.jpg)
୨୧ English is not my first language, so I'm sorry in advance if something reads strangely or is poorly written.
୨୧ Hello darling! Maybe this isn't exactly your idea (?), but I thought it would be fun to have a tension-filled conversation when the reader is supposed to be... you know, kidnapped. Tell me what you think! I'm also glad you liked the metal flowers one-shot 💞💞
୨୧ THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, THIS IS THE FIRST REQUEST I HAVE AND THAT MAKES ME VERY HAPPY, YOUR NICE COMMENTS ARE ALSO GREAT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH AGAIN 💓
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
It all happened too fast: Vi shouting warnings, the blue-haired lunatic and her sick laughter had been the least of your problems.
And now you were here, restrained in a damp, dimly lit room, the sack over your head smelling of grease and mildew. Caitlyn’s muffled voice called for you, distant and strained.
You tugged at the ropes binding your wrists to the chair, teeth gritted. The door creaked open, and hurried footsteps approached. The sack was pulled off. A Vastaya man loomed over you, his bat-like ears curling inwards as he studied you for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he left, closing the door behind him with a resonating clang.
Blinking against the sudden light, you glanced around, your gaze landing on someone seated across the room. He wore an owl mask, his posture lazy yet somehow threatening.
Your stomach churned. You’d seen him earlier—watching from the shadows as Silco’s men attacked. He hadn’t intervened then, just observed with unnerving intensity.
“Got something to say, or are you just going to keep staring?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.
The masked figure tilted his head, amusement evident in the way he leaned back.
“Staring at people like that? Kind of counts as harassment, you know,” you continued, forcing a smirk despite the pounding of your heart. “But hey, let me go, and we can settle this properly. I promise I’ll be… kind.”
The voice that responded came distorted through a modulator, low and mechanical. “You should learn to take care of that mouth. If it weren’t for the other two, you’d already be dead.”
Your eyebrows shot up, and despite yourself, you let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Big bad owl man is bothered by my mouth? Then why didn’t you just kill me outright?”
His laugh echoed back at you, though his tone remained clipped. He stood, his figure tall and imposing as he stepped closer.
“Believe me,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “It was tempting.”
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze—or what you assumed were his eyes—through the owl mask. “Oh, I’m trembling,” you deadpanned. “What a scary owl.”
His movements stilled for a moment, the tilt of his head indicating surprise. You pressed on, determined to keep the upper hand in this strange game.
“Let me guess,” you said, smirking again. “Sitting around in a mask all day makes you feel tough, huh? What’s next—dramatic monologues about justice?”
He chuckled, stepping even closer until he was towering over you. “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.”
“Oh, please,” you shot back, craning your neck to meet him. “You think this is guts? I just call it basic survival.”
For a moment, silence filled the space between you, tension crackling like static. Then, slowly, he reached up, his gloved fingers curling around the edge of his mask.
Your breath hitched, the weight of the moment sinking in as he pulled it away.
The first thing you noticed were his eyes—sharp, golden-brown, and filled with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. His features were striking, all sharp angles and raw intensity but softened.
You blinked, momentarily speechless, which was enough to make him laugh again. This time, it was unmodulated—rich and almost boyish, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his grin wide. “Cat got your tongue?”
Your mouth opened, then closed as you struggled for a response. The sheer absurdity of it hit you like a freight train. For all your mother’s warnings about suitors back in Piltover, none of them could hold a candle to him.
And, of course, he knew it.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly, stepping back.
You clenched your fists, suddenly grateful for the handcuffs keeping you from doing something you’d probably regret.
“Don’t look so smug,” you said finally, recovering enough to glare at him. “You still kidnapped me, remember?”
“Kidnapped?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Rescued is more like it. You’re lucky I was watching.”
“Lucky?” you shot back. “You’ve got a twisted sense of gratitude.”
“Stick around. You might just learn something.”
You scowled, your cheeks warming despite yourself. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, as you sat there under the sharp gaze of the boy—no, young man—in the room. But his attention was no longer casual. His gaze was razor-edged, appraising.
“Enough games,” he said finally, his voice steady, though it carried an undertone of curiosity. “What do you know about the hextech gemstone?”
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you were caught off guard. Hextech? You wracked your brain, recalling snippets of overheard conversations.
“It’s… like an energy booster,” you said hesitantly, your brows furrowed. “Anyone can use it to build pretty much anything. Something about it being ‘limitless potential’ or whatever.”
Ekko tilted his head, clearly not expecting you to be so forthcoming.
“You just told me, just like that?”
“Why not?” you replied with a shrug. “You didn’t kill me, which is already better than everyone else we’ve run into today. If you’re not trying to gut me on sight, you can’t be that bad.”
His laugh came low, warm, and rough, as if you’d surprised him again.
“You’re either really brave or really stupid.”
“Bit of both,” you admitted, flashing a quick smile “So, what’s next? We keep playing twenty questions?”
He chuckled dryly, though his next words were serious.
“Alright, let’s talk about your friends. What’s their deal? And what’s your relationship with the Enforcer?”
You clamped your mouth shut, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your chest. But the harder you tried, the more it broke free, until you were shaking with quiet.
“Enforcer?” you finally choked out, wiping the corner of your eye with your shoulder. “Caitlyn’s more like… I don’t know, a girl playing dress-up as an Enforcer. Her mother would die if she let Cait face real danger.” You tilted your head toward him, smirking. “Like this.”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish.
“Oh, and don’t leave the lovebirds alone too long,” you added, voice dripping with mock seriousness. “It seems like Cait’s taken a liking to the pink-haired one.”
That earned another huff of laughter from him. His gaze lingered on you, sharp yet tinged with reluctant amusement, as though trying to figure out whether you were always this reckless or just putting on a show.
“Alright, alright. My turn. That’s how this works, right?”
“That’s not how this works at all.”
“Sure it is,” you shot back, leaning forward as much as the restraints allowed. “If you were a conventional kidnapper, I wouldn’t have said a word. You’d have had to torture me for information—and, frankly, I don’t think you’d do it. Too soft.”
Ekko’s brow twitched, though he said nothing.
“Anyway, this isn’t a conventional kidnapping, right?” you added, your grin widening.
For a moment, he studied you, clearly debating whether to humor you. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he gestured vaguely.
“Fine. Ask your question.”
You leaned back, feigning nonchalance.
“What’s your name?”
He hesitated.
“Ekko.”
“Ekko,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It suited him. “Alright, Ekko. Next question.”
He crossed his arms, his brows lifting in mock exasperation.
“I said one question.”
“You really need to loosen up,” you teased. “I want to learn how to ride that hoverboard of yours. That thing looks incredible.”
His lips twitched, but he kept his expression neutral.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” you said. “My wrists are starting to hurt. Being handcuffed is not exactly comfortable, you know.”
Ekko sighed, dragging a hand down his face, though you could see the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Pretty Piltie can’t handle a pair of handcuffs? I’ll free you when the time comes.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Don’t push it.”
“When the time comes,” he said again. “I’ll free you.”
“Ekko!” you called after him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t just—hey!”
He didn’t stop, didn’t even glance back. The door creaked open as he stepped out.
Outside, Scar leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a bemused look on his face. He watched as Ekko adjusted the straps of his owl mask, preparing to slide it back into place.
“Something on your mind?” Ekko asked, his tone sharper than intended.
Scar raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the door where you were still yelling.
“Didn’t realize we were starting a dating service for Pilties now.”
Ekko shot him a glare, the owl mask concealing the faint flush creeping up his neck. “What?”
Scar smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing.”
With a sigh, Ekko adjusted the mask, his thoughts lingering on the strange girl tied up in the other room. A rich Piltie liking him? The thought was… well, distracting.
But he pushed it aside. There was work to be done.
“Where’s Vi?” he asked, his voice low.
Scar gestured down the hall. “Waiting.”
Ekko nodded, his mind shifting gears as he prepared for what would undoubtedly be another tense conversation.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
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