#but instead it said no I want this one please | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeanjauthor · 17 hours ago

Text

One of my friends in the SCA (medieval society) told me of a time when they were coming back from a day-trip event where they had served as "bodyguards to the king & queen" of our local kingdom. They were hungry, so they pulled into a Denny's. Since it was a day-trip, they were all wearing their medieval clothing, etc. This, of course, wouldn't be the weirdest thing to walk into a Denny's, but it was still important to be polite about it.

Unfortunately, the driver's car had a busted side window that was just plastic baggied over until the owner could get it replaced, so they couldn't fully secure the vehicle. This was a problem. They had been in garb (medieval outfits) serving as bodyguards (aka wearing visible weapons, aka lots & lots of cutlery way sharper than a table knife). So they didn't feel it was right to leave, y'know, weapons in an unsecurable car. Thgey could hide the axes under the front passenter seat, but pretty much nothing else.

So they just wore it into the Denny's.

My friend said, "God bless Denny's Restaurant waitstaff, they don't blink at anything." The woman just asked them if they wanted a booth or a table. Not wanting anything at their backs (they were wearing cutlery in back sheaths), they asked for a corner both, three big burly guys in leather and chain armor, and a petite waif of a lady-in-waiting in a lovely Renaissance gown (my friend).

Well, they sit down and get their menus handed to them, and just as the waitress walks off (way too soon for anyone to have called), a pair of cops walk in. They greet the waitress, who seats them at a booth across the way. They, too, receive their menus, and start to look...when the cop facing the corner booth looks over and does a double-take at the three medieval warriors and medieval milady perusing menus while wearing...cutlery. Sheathed, but the very sharp kind.

Naturally, he catches his partner's attention, they both stare, then get up and cross to the table. My SCAdian friends all smile and nod greetings, and ask, "Anything we can help you with, officers?"

"Why are you wearing the swords and knives in this restaurant?"

The driver immediately pipes up, "Oh, that's kind of my fault. We were at a medieval event, serving as bodyguards to the king and Queen. Unfortunately, my window was cracked, and then someone finished busting it out last night, and I can't get it replaced until Tuesday--this is a weekend, and all. So it's only taped over with plastic. None of us wanted to leave these things in an unsecured car, and we're all hungry, so we kind of have to keep an eye on everything. Technically, there are also two hatchets in the car, but they're hidden under the seats. Anyway, that's why we're keeping a close eye on them in here, instead of leaving them out there. It just wouldn't be responsible. You can't exactly hide a longsword under the front passenger seat."

The cops eye them over, and my friend said it looked like they respected that reply, but then the other cop says, "Could you put them all on the table, please?"

She and her three friends kind of eye each other, eye the table--it, at least, is a big corner table--eye each other and the cops again. And my friend asks, "All of them? Are you sure? We have a lot on us, and this'll take a bit of time."

He taps the tabletop and says, "All of them. On the table."

"We're going to have to get out of the booth to get at some of it, sir," one of the men says. "Is that alright?" The cops nod and back up, so they start sliding out one at a time and divesting themselves of weapons. Not drawn out of their sheaths (if they can avoid it, some were booth-sheath types), and not dropping them loudly on the table either, just neatly laying them down one after another. The men were each carrying over a dozen weapons.

My friend...was still going. She gets to twenty, including having to hike up her skirts and petticoats to get at thigh-sheaths as discreetly as she could. She then grimaces, and says, "Do I really have to take out all of them and put them on the table? Because I've got six more weapons serving as boning in my corset, but I'll have to go into the bathroom to get undressed, and then I can't put my dress back on without having problems getting it laced back up, and I don't want to have to come out with my clothes gaping open or my dress fully off. I'll do it if you insist, but I'd have to walk out here either half undressed or entirely in my underthings. We may be the only ones in here right now, but there are cameras, and anyone else could come right in. I really don't feel comfortable about having to do that."

The cop who had demanded all of the weapons be put on the table turned beet red, and the other cop quickly said, "Uh, no, ma'am. If you say you have six more weapons, we'll believe you--how many weapons do you have?"

"Eleven." "Thirteen." "Twelve on me and two hand axes in the car." "Twenty-six."

The beet-red cop rubs his eyes and said, "Jesus Christ! This lady is like watching a clown car of cutlery!"

His comment busted up the group, and he waves his hand.

"Okay, okay. You don't have to bring it all out, ma'am. I'll take your word for it you got six more that you can't get to quicklyk. I, uh, wouldn't ask a lady to do that. Go ahead and put it all back on, keep good track of it, and you folks have a good night. Enjoy your meal, and drive safe."

"You, too, officers!" They started putting everything back on as the cops go back to their table, and of course it takes longer to do that than it does to get it off. Then one of the cops comes back over. They all kinda freeze mid-re-cutlery-ing, and the driver asks, "Can we help you with anything else, officer?"

"Just out of curiosity, what do you all do for a living, when you're not being bodyguards in a medieval play? And do you know how to fight with this stuff?"

My explained it's not a medieval play, but a medieval society, where people do arts & crafts--such as making all the stuff they're wearing--plus non-choreographed fighting, albeit with completely different materials and a whole bunch of safety regulations.

Then my friend says, "I'm an EMT, and I do fencing and archery. He runs a construction company, and does fencing and heavy fighting--rapier versus sword-and-shield. Our driver's a computer tech, and also a heavy fighter. And he's a chef and an archer. Also my husband. He doesn't fight in the SCA, but he does spar with me, so he can, but he doesn't enter any tournaments.

"I don't get to enter as many tournaments as I'd like, because I'm usually stuck doing the Chiurgeon work--that's basically first aid folks, since it's a fancy medieval word for 'surgeon.' And everyone wants someone competent on hand for that, for which I qualify, obviously. But with thaat said, these boys will all behave with this stuff, because they all know what my bedside manner is like with fools. Especially when I'm off the clock, so they don't dare hurt themselves or others."

I talked later with her husband about it, and at this point in the story, he said "Yeah, it was the funniest shit! The three of us all just nodded quickly in confirmation with expressions of, She is the scariest one of us all, officer. And he looked at us like, Are you kidding me, she is the scariest? But then he looks at the pile of weapons on the table, forty percent of which is hers, and raises his eyebrows in that kind of Well, I guess she is, isn't she?"

My chef friend continued, saying the cop then added, "Do you always carry a weapon on you, ma'am?"

Her husband told me she gave him one her flat Are you being a fucking idiot? stares (tiny petite woman, scary death glare), and said, "I am an EMT. I carry all manner of things that could be used as a weapon. Mostly I wield them on clothes to get them out of my way in an emergency, but even a pair of scissors can be used as a weapon." With, her husband said, a look of, As you should very well know as a cop, you dumbass. Her husband was laughing by this point in his explanation, and said that the cop walked away looking like he'd been swatted on the butt and sent to a corner like a toddler who knew he'd done wrong.

Anyway, the rest of the story had one more twist: They finished putting on their cutlery, slid into the booth, and a few minutes later, the waitress came by to take their orders, along with offers of coffee. She then added, "Y'all get a free slice of pie on the house for dessert, too, for here or to go. Compliments of the night manager, because y'all just gave the whole crew a helluva laugh with your 'clown car of cutlery' trick! Just don't use any of your cutlery on our food. Health regulations, you know."

My chef friend said he knew that technically wasn't true, but they weren't about to get their weapons dirty without proper cleaning materials on hand (you never put a dirty knife in its sheath, because that's a recipe for disaster later on), so they just went on with ordering their meals.

At this point, other people did come in to have midnight meals, mostly long-haul truckers, and they were doing double-takes. One of them even kind of sidled over to the cops, and they couldn't hear the conversation, but my friend said she overheard, "No no," and "Twenty-Six," followed by the funniest wide-eyed double-take from the trucker fellow looking her way, then he quickly sidled off to go eat a quiet, peaceful meal at a far table.

Admittedly most of what they were wearing were knives in length, but each of them had on at least one sword, and my friend even had a second one (more of a short gladius in size, though not in shape) in a spine sheath, similar to what Wonder Woman wore in the movie, but this was literally over two decades before that movie came out.

She had to have help getting it back into the sheath, because she couldn't see where the mouth of the sheath was to put it back, and also didn't want her snood (that woven net thing at the back of the hair) to get caught on the quillions, so her husband had to do that. Drawing it wasn't as much of a problem, just putting it back. Also, unlike the movie version, her sword hilt was completely hidden by the back neckline of her chemise and gown, and she said it startled the cops when she pulled it out.

When the movie did come out (again, decades later), she complained heartily about how badly that sword was placed, not very well hidden at all, and very much about to get tangled up in all of those lacings. I had to agree. It was the only place she could hide the sword, but it definitely would have tangled in the lacings.

How many weapons is it practical for a fantasy character to carry?

Assuming no magic is involved, the answer might be more than you’d expect!

Patreon - everything else

3K notes · View notes

puma-riki · 3 days ago

Text

AND, BABY, EVEN ON OUR WORST NIGHTS IM INTO YOU!ˎˊ˗

๋࣭ ⭑ Ѕ𝘺��𝓸𝙥𝒔𝓲𝑠: Who in Enhypen I think is most likely to still be super in love with you even when you’re arguing/mad at them

ꮐ𝛠ｎ𝕣𝟈: Fluff ── .✦. ── 𝑾α𝑟𝚗ｉ𝘯𝓰𝑠: None

𝙁𝙚𝚊𝘵𝚞𝘳𝔦𝒏𝓰: Heeseung, Jungwon & Ni-ki

Authors Note: WOW you can really see the bias here, to be honest i have no idea what this is I just started word vomiting

────────────────────────

HEESEUNG

Who else is shocked

he's a simple man, okay?

a simple, weak, pathetic, hopelessly in love man

he doesn't even remember what he was supposed to be arguing with you about because he has never been more into you rn

However, he also can't stand how you'll ignore him afterward and refuse to touch him

You're sulking in the passenger seat of his car, arms crossed, and your legs lean against the door instead of towards him. He keeps sneakily blatantly glancing at you every time he can while he drives.

You won't even look at him and it's driving him crazy. Even though you look super cute sulking in his car and in his leather jacket. He had done something to make you upset during your trip to the mall. You ended up being snappy with him and said some not very nice things before stalking off ahead of him.

You had left him there in a daze and he really wished he remembered what you said to him because he was too focused on the way your alluring eyes narrowed at him, how glossy your lips looked, the way your cheeks puffed up, and how your hair flowed when you turned and left him standing there in the middle of the bustling mall.

You had gotten a few feet away from him before he snapped out of it and caught up to you, only for you to ignore him the whole way back to the car. Now, here you are, sitting beside him, still looking all pouty and adorable, and Heeseung is losing his mind.

He risks another glance at you. Bad idea. The way your arms are still crossed, the way his oversized leather jacket drowns you, the way your lips are pressed together in frustration—he’s never been more in love with you than in this exact moment.

"Baby," he finally says, his voice laced with amusement and something a little softer, a little sweeter.

Nothing. You don’t even flinch.

Heeseung grips the steering wheel a little tighter, fighting a smile. "You're really not gonna talk to me?" He tries again, tilting his head, hoping—praying—you’ll at least look at him.

Still, nothing.

He lets out a dramatic sigh. "You're literally killing me right now," he groans, dropping one hand from the wheel to poke at your thigh. "Do you even know how cute you are when you're mad?"

Your glare shoots to him immediately, eyes sharp and lips parting like you’re about to tell him off—

"Heeseung," A surprisingly soft tone.

"Thats my name,"

"Will you be quiet." The irritation is back in your voice. You turn towards the window again

"Okay, but can I make a deal with you?" he says, glancing over at you again, completely ignoring the way you’re still facing the window, arms crossed tight.

You don’t answer, of course. But he knows you’re listening.

"If I make the next red light, you have to give me a kiss," he announces proudly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel like this is the best idea he’s ever had.

Your head whips toward him, eyes narrowed. "What?"

Heeseung grins. Hook, line, and sinker.

"You heard me, pretty. A kiss. Next red light."

You scoff, turning away again. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, come on," he whines dramatically, shifting in his seat like a restless kid. "You love kissing me."

No response.

"You do," he insists. "You’re just mad right now, but you’re totally gonna cave. I know you."

Still, nothing.

Heeseung sighs, then switches tactics. "Okay, okay. No kiss. But can I at least hold your hand? Just a little bit? One pinky? A thumb?"

Silence.

Heeseung pouts. "Baby, please."

You shake your head.

He groans like he’s physically in pain. "You're actually breaking my heart right now. Do you want that on your conscience?"

Nothing.

He sighs dramatically again, waiting for the next stoplight. Then, when it finally turns red, he perks up.

"Last chance. Give me a kiss, and I’ll shut up. Forever if you want." he says, already grinning because he knows damn well you won’t fall for that.

Sure enough, you turn to him, deadpan. "You definitely won't."

Heeseung pouts, hand flying to his chest like you’ve wounded him. "You wound me."

You roll your eyes. "You're so stupid."

"And you're so pretty," he fires back, laying his hand on the center console. "Now hold my hand."

You exhale sharply, glaring at him for a second longer—then, with a huff, you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers.

Heeseung beams. Like, full-on, brightest-smile-ever beams.

"You’re ridiculous," you mutter.

"But you're still holding my hand," he teases, squeezing your fingers.

You groan, but you don’t pull away.

Heeseung just grins even harder, bringing your hand up to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

Mad or not, you’re still his. And he’s never been more into you.

JUNGWON

This man YEARNS to have you angry or annoyed at him

and I am dead serious.

He is a younger brother so it's in his blood to be annoying and you are absolutely no exception.

He loves poking, teasing, pulling at your clothes, following you around, pissing you off basically

and when you get pissed off then that means you're paying attention to him

and that's all he really wants (he also just likes being all up in your business because he's clingy, but he'd never say that out loud)

You're never actually mad at him, of course.

but you do get annoyed with him and that leads to petty arguments that are easily swept under the rug because he's just so cutie how could you ever actually be mad.

"Stop."

"Stop what?" He asks innocently as he leans back on the bed on his hands and tilts his head.

"Stop wasting my highlighter and spreading it on my face." You roll your eyes at him from your seat at your vanity.

You've been trying to get ready to go out for about an hour and the whole time Jungwon has been at your side. He followed you around the house as you went back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom, to the kitchen. At that point, he was just talking your ear off, and you found it cute that he was following you around much like a meowing cat would.

But now he was just being annoying to get you riled up.

Jungwon grins, completely unbothered. He stands up and returns to his spot next to you at your vanity, looking down at you unscrewing a tube of mascara. “But it looks good on you,” he teases, swiping a bit more highlighter onto his finger before reaching for your cheek again.

You grab his wrist to stop him. “Jungwon.”

“What?” He laughs, feigning innocence as he leans closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m just helping you glow, angel.” with a simple flick of his finger he successfully wipes the shimmery powder on your cheek. The sight of your exposed neck as you try to tilt away from his hand makes his heart skip a beat.

“You’re making me look like a disco ball,” you deadpan, glaring at your now overly shimmery cheek in the mirror. You let go of Jungwon and set the mascara down to trade it for another makeup wipe.

Jungwon hums, dramatically tilting his head. “Mmm… a really cute disco ball, though.”

You groan, turning back to your vanity to finish getting ready—only to realize something is missing.

“Wait, where’s my—” You whip around just in time to catch Jungwon smirking as he dangles your mascara between his fingers.

Your eyes narrow. “Jungwon.”

“Hm?” He blinks innocently, twirling the tube in his hand. “Looking for this?”

“Give it back.”

“I dunno… do you really need it?” He grins, holding it just out of reach as you step closer. “I think you look perfect already.”

You lunge for it, but he’s faster, twisting away and laughing as he runs and flops onto the bed, holding the mascara hostage against his chest. “You want it? Come get it.”

Oh, he thinks he’s so smart.

Without hesitation, you climb onto the bed, straddling him as you wrestle for the tube. “Jungwon, I swear—”

He lets out a breathless chuckle, his hands moving to your waist as he tries to keep you from prying the mascara from his grip. But then, suddenly, he stops fighting.

Because you’re right there.

Hovering over him, lips parted in frustration, eyes burning into his with determination. His heart stutters, and he realizes… he really didn’t think this through. Or maybe he did. Doesn't matter, you're literally on top of him he's living the dream.

Your fingers finally close around the mascara, yanking it free, but Jungwon hardly notices. He’s too busy staring up at you, completely mesmerized.

You pause, noticing his dazed expression. “…What?”

His grip on your waist tightens slightly, a lazy, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “Just… you’re really pretty when you’re mad.”

Your breath catches for just a second—before you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

But before you roll off him completely, you lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips—just enough to throw him off before you sit up again, triumphant.

Jungwon blinks, caught between being smug and utterly lovestruck. “Wait—”

“Nope.” You cut him off, hopping off the bed and walking back to your vanity with your mascara in hand. “I meant what I said.”

Jungwon groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. “That was definitely getting me somewhere.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, applying your mascara with a satisfied smirk.

From the bed, Jungwon watches you, lips still tingling from the kiss, his heart so full it’s embarrassing. Yeah. He definitely won.

NI-KI

he's also a younger brother so yk what that means

he might be even more annoying because he is so smug and flirty someone stop him

he lives for the reactions you give him when he teases you

the way your face flushes, how your touch warms and lingers on his body when you smack him when he says something flirty,

don't even get him started on how you avoid his gaze because he's made you so flustered so then he has to guide your face to look at him by delicately grabbing your chin between his fingers

SOMEONE STOP HIM IMMEDIETLY, I QUIT

which is why he keeps pushing his luck and it's no one's fault but his own when you get fed up with him and present him the most horrible, agonizing, and cruel thing man has ever created

The silent treatment

Truly, it is his worst enemy

He can't think of a worse treatment other than not being able to talk to you.

But it also might be the best thing that's happened to him because he finds out that you are so so so fine when you're mad at him.

"Are you really not gonna talk to me?" Ni-ki asks as he stands in front of you. You're sitting on the small black leather couch in his room. you look up from your phone and give him a look that says it all.

He knew this would happen eventually, but he's not sorry. Like at all. You had gotten back from a trip to the mall almost an hour ago and you've been ignoring him for two hours.

You wanted to get new clothes and just window shop. You looked absolutely breathtaking walking next to him, or just standing next to him really. You were wearing one of his jackets with a cute skirt and a plain top. You were just cute. Especially when you tilt your head up to look at him because he's standing so close to you. He let his cuteness aggression get the best of him and he started teasing and flirting with you shamelessly in public. It was fine at first, he'd poked your cheek, tugged on the sleeve of your jacket, pulled you closer to him.

But then he started getting annoying.

He put his cold hands on the back of your neck, making you yelp. He ruffled your hair and messed it up. He squished your cheeks together and probably smudged some of your makeup. Wrapped his arm around your waist and pinched your side so you squirmed and fell into him. Basically, would not leave you the hell alone for 5 seconds. This man had pissed you off for the last time. Because then he started really pushing your buttons, passing you shamelessly flirty comments out loud in a very public space. They weren't even that crazy, but it still turned you into a flustered mess, while he just laughed.

But he just couldn't stop. Seeing you flustered over things he'd say was way too much fun. The way you’d stammer, your eyes going wide before darting away, how you’d smack his arm but still let your fingers linger for just a second longer than necessary—Ni-ki lived for it. He knew exactly what to say, exactly how to push your buttons, and he had no shame about using that knowledge to his full advantage.

Now he's suffering the consequences.

Two entire hours of pure torture. He hasn't heard you laugh in 2 hours or heard your voice. You'll hardly look at him and he's about to just sink to the floor and hope you'll take pity on him and smother him with affection like he wants you to.

“You’re really still mad?” he tries again, shifting his weight from foot to foot. When you don’t respond, he sighs dramatically and drops onto the couch beside you, his head leaning against the back of the couch “[Name].”

Silence.

“Angel.”

Nothing.

"My beautiful, intelligent, cute, girlfriend who I'm so lucky to have."

A glare.

You turn more towards your arm of the couch and keep scrolling on your phone. Ni-ki sighs and looks up at the ceiling. Then back at you. You're biting your cheek and your eyebrows are furrowed in frustration as your fingers fly across your phone. He can only guess you're dragging his name through the mud to your friends. But he could care less about that, he raises his hand to poke the cheek you're biting on—

"If you poke me one more time today, I will beat the shit out of you."

He swallows. Okay. Maybe he really had done too much this time.

For a moment, he contemplates just admitting defeat, apologizing, and behaving like a good boyfriend for the rest of the day. But then again, when has he ever been able to resist testing his limits?

Instead he moves to quickly pluck your phone out of your hands. You scoff and turn towards him. "Give it back, Riki, seriously"

Ni-ki smirks, holding your phone just out of reach as you reach for it. "Oh, so you can talk to me," he muses, dodging your grab with ease.

"Riki." Your tone is sharp, but he can see the flicker of exasperated affection in your eyes.

"You're still calling me Riki? You must not be that mad." he grins, shifting back just in case you decide to lunge for it.

You narrow your eyes. "Give. It. Back."

"Hmm." He pretends to think about it, twirling your phone between his fingers. "But see, I don't really feel like it."

You lunge.

Ni-ki yelps, scrambling back against the couch as you climb over him, reaching for your phone with determined fury. He barely has time to react before you’ve got your hands on his wrist, attempting to pry it free. But all he can think about—despite the very real threat of you actually hitting him—is how attractive you are like this.

The fire in your eyes, the way your lips purse in frustration, the fact that you're putting your full body weight into wrestling your phone from his grip—his heart is pounding.

Damn, he thinks he's found something better than flustering you.

"You are—" you grunt, tugging at his wrist, "—so annoying!"

"And you—" he flips your phone behind his back, eyes sparkling, "—are so pretty when you're mad at me."

You freeze for half a second, before promptly smacking his chest. Hard.

"Oof—hey!" he laughs, wincing dramatically. "That was uncalled for."

"Well, that's what you get. You are seriously so..." You can't even find the word to describe your fading irritation with him, as he looks up at you with a love-sick gaze. Is he biting his damn lip right now? You raise your hand up to his face, as if you're going to claw his eyes out, and let it curl into a fist and fall to your side. "Ugh!"

"And yet, you're still in my lap," he teases, grinning up at you.

Realizing your position—straddling his thighs as you try to wrestle your phone back—you huff and move to get off him. But before you can, Ni-ki’s arms wrap securely around your waist, pulling you right back.

"Not so fast," he murmurs, tilting his head as he gazes up at you. His voice has dropped just enough to make your breath catch. "You still haven't forgiven me."

Your resolve wavers for a fraction of a second. He sees it, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

Ni-ki leans up slightly, closing the distance between you two, his face just inches from yours. "Say you forgive me," he murmurs, voice teasing but eyes soft. "Or else I might just keep you here all night."

Your heart stutters, and for a moment, you genuinely forget why you were mad at him in the first place. But then you remember exactly why, and with a sudden burst of strength, you snatch your phone from his distracted grip.

"I'll forgive you never," you declare, pushing off him and retreating to his bed, where you hope he'll leave you alone to sit and think about how he should make it up to you.

Ni-ki just watches you, lips curling into a slow grin. He places a hand over his chest, feeling his own heartbeat racing.

Yeah. He was absolutely done for.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧!)ᯓ★

Taglist | @jiiyen @yangjungwonnie @amoressb @sugarikiz @stvrriki

449 notes · View notes

cosmicmunsonwrites · 2 days ago

Note

MORE MEAN!RAFE PLEASE!!! Maybe leading from the last ask and it’s him being the desperate one and she’s just scared of him now but she still loves him or smth idk lols

even when you pushed me away

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — stalking

summary — rafe somehow finds you after you frantically ran away from home.

authors note — this is a continuation of my mean!rafe series. it is in my rafe cameron masterlist under “au’s” if you’d like it read it as a series instead of a standalone. thank you guys for all the love with this au, it means the world to me. please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“why are you here, rafe?” you asked, your voice firm and unwavering even though you were slightly terrified and cowering behind your half-opened front door. “how did you even find me?”

he shook his head and brushed it off. “why am i here? because you just got up and left. no note? text? a call? nothing,” he explained calmly. “why? and where is all your stuff?” you bit your bottom lip nervously and stared at him. to your surprise, he looked genuinely confused. “did i do something?”

you almost laughed. did he do something? was he serious? “you should leave. i don’t want to talk to you,” you stated while beginning to close the door.

he lunged forward quickly and pushed back on it slightly, not enough for you to be scared that he was going to force his way in or anything like that, but just to keep you from shutting it in his face. “please, baby. i jus’ wanna talk to you. i want you to come home. i wanna know why you left in the first place.”

your resolve was beginning to slip. he was being so sweet and his eyes were all glassy like he was going to cry. “rafe, i don’t want to talk to you. i can’t,” you said a little more forcefully.

his bottom lip trembled slightly and he stared at you with wide eyes. “why not? what did i do wrong? if its about not spending enough time together, i promise i’ll change. i’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the week and we can spend every second of it together. jus’ please, come back home.”

“it’s not about that,” you replied. you wanted to leave with him so desperately. he sounded so torn and sad and it was beginning to make your heart break for him. “you’re not a good person. i can’t get mixed up with that.”

a tear slipped down his cheek as the realization set in. “baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered softly before talking a step closer to the door. you threatened to close it, narrowing the gap between you and him. that made him take a step back instantly. “please. jus’ come home and i’ll explain. i promise you. no lying, no bullshit. i’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

you felt your nose begin to sting and tears pool in your waterline. “i can’t, rafe.” you quickly shut the door and twisted the lock. a loud bang sounded on the door and you instinctively jumped back as you sobbed.

“open the fucking door!” he shouted angrily. you could hear his voice tremble before he began to repeatedly bang on the wood. “open the door!”

you slid down the wall and curled up into yourself, letting the tears call and the ugly cries escape your mouth. you’d never seen this side of him and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t terrify you to your core.

“baby, please! i’m begging you to open the door. i just want to talk to you,” he said, his voice slightly muffled through the barrier. “i need to talk to you. i need you to know that i’m not a bad person. please.”

you were pretty sure you were past that point now.

#gracies asks and requests 💌#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #outer banks imagine

401 notes · View notes

rcvcgers · 1 day ago

Text

Rotten Apples

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.

word count: 5.1k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!

author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33

edit: part 2 will be coming soon! thank you for all the love on this! i love & appreciate every single one of you!

You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.

And she always needed something.

Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.

She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.

However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.

When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.

Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.

You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.

“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.

At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.

It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.

When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.

It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.

Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.

You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.

You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.

And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.

“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”

Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming grin on his face.

“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.

Us. That damned word.

“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”

Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.

“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”

“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”

A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.

“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.

“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”

You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.

“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.

“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.

“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep.

“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.

Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?

Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.

“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”

The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.

The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.

And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted.

The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.

So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.

The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.

You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.

The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.

It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.

She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.

You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.

The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.

You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.

“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.

“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”

“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.

A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.

A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.

Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.

Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.

But none of them are Caleb.

You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?

Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?

You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.

“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.

You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?

“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.

“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.

The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.

An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.

“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.

“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.

The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you.

The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.

The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.

“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.

“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.

A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.

“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”

The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.

The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.

“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.

The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.

You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.

Stranger danger, after all.

“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”

“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.

You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.

He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.

Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.

This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.

“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.

“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”

You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.

“You done yet?”

“You’re alive!”

“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.

Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.

Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.

“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.

How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.

Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s breathing.

His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.

You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.

Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.

“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.

“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.

How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.

Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?

Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.

You know. You know the answer.

Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.

“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.

Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.

His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.

You need to get home.

You need to get home and get away from him.

You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.

If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.

“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.

You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.

Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.

You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.

You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.

Whatever. He’s an idiot.

He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.

You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.

Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.

And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?

His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.

You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.

His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.

She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.

Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.

His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.

How could he have been so blind?

His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.

Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.

Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.

Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.

He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.

And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.

But now?

Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.

Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.

He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.

What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.

You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.

You’re so thoughtful.

How did you know those are his favorite colors?

Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.

Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.

#caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x non!mc reader #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads sylus #lads rafayel #rcvcgers writings

295 notes · View notes

sp0o0kylights · 2 days ago

Text

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

xXx

Here’s the thing about the kids.

Mike can be downright squirrely when he wants to be.

The guy is all long-limbs and ever-changing moods, and the second he spots Steve he vanishes around the corner and leaves no trace of himself behind.

Dustin, similarly, is catty.

The kid’s not fast, but when cornered, he has a tendency to do the most insane, ridiculous things.

Currently Steve is ninety percent sure he just saw him jump out a window, and the only reason it’s not one hundred is because his eyesight isn’t the greatest these days, and it’s entirely possible Dustin found something to put that stupid Weird Al shirt on and threw that out the window instead,

It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.

Knowing this, Steve automatically goes for the easiest target: Lucas.

See, Lucas is, of course, the most athletic and the only one likely to give Steve a run for his money should he too, decide to bolt.

He also was the most likely to stop and actually talk to Steve, because unlike his friends, he possessed some emotional maturity.

Or just maturity in general.

“Come on Luc, what’s going on?” Steve calls out, the second he rounds the corner and spots the kids. “You’re freaking me out.”

That makes Lucas stop and come to him, while the other two dipshits bolt.

Steve leans against a wall, eyebrow raised as Lucas slinks forward, but knows instantly from the grin the kid’s trying to hide that whatever’s going on right now, is their usual kind of bullshit.

(An internal part of him, the part that has to deal with the unusual bullshit every six months or so, sighs in relief.)

“Okay, you have to swear not to be mad.” Lucas starts, which is never a good sign, but at least it’s coming from Steve’s second most trustworthy kid.

(Will still holds first place, after the time he ratted out Mike for dumping nail polish all over Max’s jacket.

“She was super rude, but she didn’t deserve that.” Will had said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

Steve had ruffled his hair and together they had plotted a way to get revenge on Mike without letting Max outright murder him.)

“We uh, might have heard that you were being auctioned off tonight.”

Which was not at all where Steve thought this was going to go.

“Okay?” He hedges, waiting to see where Lucas spills the part that makes Steve worry.

“So you played D&D with Erica and Dustin, and neither of them will stop bragging about it.” Lucas says, a slight pink coloring his cheeks, “--and Mike won’t say it, but I know it bothers him too so we thought we could, uh, buy you. For the day.”

Lucas sends out his gigawatt grin, the one he uses when he’s trying to be his most charming. “To make you play D&D with us.”

Something warm and soft blooms in Steve’s heart. A kind of love he’d never had before hauling the little shits out of the line of fire the first time.

These kids were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“If you ever tell the others I said this I will deny it ” Steve says, pulling out his wallet and forking out a handful of twenties. “But I would be happy to play your dungeons and dipshits game with you.”

Lucas doesn’t even correct him as he accepts the money with a grin--a real one this time. “Really?” He says, and it's so stupidly hopefully it makes Steve’s heart squeeze.

He reaches out, pulling the kid in for a hug for a second. Claps him on the back a few times before pushing fondly at his head.

“Over being taken on a date by some middle aged woman? Absolutely. But like I said,” He playfully shoves Lucas away, “You tell anyone and I will deny, deny, deny.”

“Sure Steve, whatever.” Lucas says, before running off to go find his friends.

Steve watches him go for a moment, smile on his face, before turning back to the gym.

He’d rather play D&D with the kids any day over dealing with this farce.

(The shocking thing, he finds himself thinking as he wanders over to where the other dates are situated, is that he means it. Even if a hot, beautiful girl bid on him--he’d rather spend the day with the kids.

Doesn’t that just say something about his life these days?)

xXx Eddie xXx

His club was going to kill him.

Normally, missing a game would be downright heresy. Betrayal of the highest order, particularly considering he’s the damn dungeon master. Sure, other people can DM, but not for the current ongoing campaign, which means Eddie landing his sorry ass in detention disrespected the sanctity of both his club and his people.

A fact he will need to beg on hands and knees to makeup for.

The siren song of the microphone, nevermind the idea of having an honest to god stage to prowl around on at lunch was simply too much for Eddie to resist, particularly when it came to his anti-Valentines Day speech.

Not that he was the type of guy to roll his eyes at all the lovey-dovey crap floating around, but more that people could be so stupid about it.

…and maybe he was a little bit jealous.

Eddie convinces himself it’s fine. He plans to have a session for the missed game on Sunday, when he knows his friends had planned to hang out at his place anyway.

Still feels bad about it as he walks down the halls of Hawkin’s high, annoyed that detention took as long as it did.

There’s people milling around, in the kind of stupid dressed up clothes that wasn’t formal, but could be described by evil words like “business casual.” The best skirts and knitted tops, slacks for the men paired with button up shirts or polos.

Like a fucking swarm of Steve Harrington’s--without any of the guys charm.

Not that he had any charm.

Definitely not.

Eddie gives an overactive shudder to clear his head, making his way out of the school as fast as he can.

Because life, the universe and everything in it hates him, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie! Oh thank god, look guys it’s Eddie!”

For the briefest of seconds after hearing Henderson’s voice, Eddie’s worried no one thought to tell the kids that Hellfire had been canceled.

Or, considering Eddie’s over the top response to the first time one of them had tried to miss a campaign night, they might be worried he’s dying (rather than simply an “unbearable idiot” as Jeff had called him earlier.)

His freshman lambs quickly swarm him, three pairs of eyes staring with weird amounts of hope (Sinclair, Henderson) and awkward embarrassment (Wheeler.)

“Eddie! Eddie, they're only letting Juniors and Seniors place the actual bets!” Dustin sounds frantic, practically vibrating in place before him. “They won’t let any of us bid on Steve!”

Any fondness Eddie felt evaporates in a puff of vexed smoke.

“That sounds like a you problem.” He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

For once, the freshmen don’t cringe back.

Instead he’s treated to steel sliding across Henderon’s face, Sinclair right behind him and Mike, who refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes, but stands with his friends anyway.

“Come on, think of all the chaos it’ll cause!” Dustin is pleading, his hands waving in the air in a way that reminds Eddie of himself. “Isn’t that like, you’re whole thing? Going against ‘the Man’!?”

Yes, because publicly buying Harrington for a date in front of Hawkin’s self-proclaimed elite was a great way to stick it to ‘the Man’, instead of, say, painting yet another target on his back.

“I don’t think getting into a bidding war over taking Steve Harrington on a date is going to go over well.” He deadpans.

Dustin throws his hands in the air. “It doesn’t have to be a date! ”

“Jennifer’s mom’s friends bid on her. For a girls night.” Mike adds so quietly it takes a minute for the words to process.

“Just saying!” He adds frantically, as though Eddie is going to call him out for this betrayal.

Considering the downright fearful look he’s wearing, Eddie might just do it for shits and giggles in his next campaign.

“We’re begging you, don’t you want to see Steve play D&D? We promise you can even watch the whole thing and embarrass him or whatever!” Dustin continues, hands clasped together in front of him.

“There you idiots are.” A judgey, annoyed voice calls, cutting into the conversation.

Eddie has never met Sinclair Jr. but immediately assumes the girl walking towards them with her arms firmly on her hips must be her “Steve’s up next, idiots. I know you know how auctions work, so I shouldn't have to remind you about having to physically be in the room to bid on him.”

She stops, cocking her head challengingly. “Unless one of you is going to call in from a payphone?”

Cheeky.

Eddie loves cheeky.

Even if she is eleven.

Muted calls ring out again from the gym. Apparently Hawkin’s middle aged women have started their fight for a day spent with one of the “young, local heroes”.

The very thought of Steve, all scraped up in the stupid Scoop’s Ahoy sailor uniform, guiding kid’s out of the mallfire with his broad chest and buff arms and--

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, bouncing frantically in place.

‘Head out of the gutter, Munson!’ He thinks, annoyed at himself (and perhaps, a little bit more understanding of the ladies shouting out numbers in the gym).

“Do you still only have five dollars?” He says, and it's not defeat, not yet, but he can see the hope reignite in their eyes.

This was stupid. A stupid, stupid, stupid idea!

“We have a hundred now.” Lucas says firmly, which is at least a lot more than five.

The calls from the gym are playful but there’s a catty undertone now. Those women really want that date with Steve, and Eddie knows walking in there, bidding on Harrington is a death sentence.

Dustin’s done something to his eyes. They’re wide, shined over like he’s about to cry. Like this fucking matters to him.

It drills into Eddie in a way he hates. How the three of them, (even Mike who is still trying his best not to act like he wants this) are handing him all their dreams. He’s someone they look up to, someone who can make things happen, and he’s always liked that feeling--but this?

This was asking a lot.

“Eddie man, please. You’re our only hope.” Dustin says it softly, and goddamn him, it’s like he knows Eddie is weak for this shit. That under all his leather and chains that he cares.

About them.

He just wishes what they didn’t care about was fucking Steve Harrington.

He knows they think the guy hung the moon. Just as he knows he'll need more than money to fend off the competition and actually win Steve: he'll need a plan.

Knows, even, just how he’ll do it.

“Baby Sinclair, a word?” He crooks a finger, walking a few paces backwards as a plan rapidly forms.

She flicks her eyes over to him, and with an appraisal that says she had already judged him and found him lacking. “It’s Erica.”

Eddie bows low to her, arm brushing the floor. “My deepest apologies, Lady Erica.”

She rolls her eyes but comes over anyway and lets Eddie whisper in her ear.

Read the rest on A03: LINK

#valentines day is coming around #so Im posting this again #buy a date #get a date #Steve Harrington #style #steddie #in which steve participates in a charity auction by force #the Party intervines #and Eddie ends up having to DM a one shot with Steve #that totally isn't a real date #no matter how much Steve is acting #like it is very much a real date #getting together #0o0 fanfics #robin buckley #steve harringtons smooth moves which in this case involved learning a magic trick

220 notes · View notes

coolemmasulivan2 · 3 days ago

Text

A Beautiful Mess | 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 2846

But close ain't close enough 'Till we cross the line So name a game to play And I'll roll the dice, hey

You and Lando Norris had a problem with each other. There was no denying it. Something about the other person made your skin prickle with irritation, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

You were a Monegasque kindergarten teacher, a job that suited you perfectly. You adored kids. Their joy and innocence made your life simpler.

Monaco had always been your sanctuary: peaceful, elegant, yours. But that changed the moment Lando moved in next door a few years back.

You got along with everyone. It was just who you were. Friendly, patient, easygoing. But him? He was the exception. Loud, cocky, and an absolute menace of a neighbor. Even if he spent most of the year traveling, when he was home, he made sure you knew. The roaring engines, the late-night laughter, the endless stream of people coming and going. It was chaos wrapped in luxury.

He could've lived anywhere. He had the money. But somehow, out of all the places in Monaco, he chose your building.

"I guess Lando's back?" Your sister said, raising an eyebrow as loud music blasted from the apartment next door.

You let out a deep sigh, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "He's been back for a while… unfortunately."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Let me guess, he did something already?"

"Oh, just parked in my spot today. Again." You shot her an exasperated look before slamming the knife against the cutting board. "Someday I'll kill him. I swear."

She chuckled. "Maybe he's running out of places to park his collection."

"I don't care!" You huffed. "He's a billionaire, he can buy a garage. Or better yet, move to a bigger place and stop being my problem."

"You know he does all of this just to piss you off, right?" Your sister said as she sat at the dining table, watching you set down the salad. "You should just ignore him."

"I know!" You groaned, sinking into the chair across from her. "But I can't. He's impossible to ignore. He knows exactly how to push my buttons."

Lando and Max were deep into a racing simulator session, music blasting through the apartment as they waited for their food to be ready.

It was Max's turn on the sim, but the pounding music was messing with his concentration. "Dude, the music... turn it down." He grumbled, eyes locked on the screen.

Lando barely glanced up from his phone. "Why?"

"Because I can't focus! It's too damn loud." Max tried to keep his attention on the race. "Someone's going to complaine about the noise." Then a thought struck him. He paused the race and shot Lando a knowing look. "Wait a second… You want this, don't you?"

Lando shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about."

Max scoffed. "Bullshit. You're trying to piss her off. You want her to came here. That's why the music's so loud. What's your problem with her?"

Lando smirked, eyes flicking back to his phone. "It's fun watching her all worked up."

Max shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "You know, she's actually really nice."

Lando snorted. "To you and everyone else. Not to me."

"Yeah, because you're an asshole."

Lando finally dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "She's been like that since day one. She started it."

"And instead of finding out why, you just decided to make things worse." Max said, shaking his head. "Classic you!"

Before Lando could fire back, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment.

His smirk widened. "Told you, she can't stay away." He pushed up from his seat, heading for the door.

Max groaned, calling after him, "Dude, be nice, please!"

You bit your nails, pacing as you waited for Lando to answer his door. Normally, you were a calm and patient person. But Lando Norris had a talent for bringing out the absolute worst in you. And the worst part? He enjoyed it. You knew he did.

Inside your apartment you heard the door finally open.

"Hi!" Your sister's voice rang out, soft and sweet, just like she always was. Unlike you, she had never raised her voice in frustration, not even to assholes like Lando.

"Oh, hi!" Lando's voice dripped with warmth, and you immediately rolled your eyes. Of course, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

"Sorry to bother you…"

"No problem!" He said. You nearly gagged.

"Could you turn the music down a little?" Your sister asked politely.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, I didn't even realize it was that loud. Really, I'm so sorry."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

You had stood at his door countless times, asking the same thing, and every single time, he would gave you a cocky remark, or worst of all, he'd turned the music up louder just to spite you. But with your sister? He was suddenly the picture of politeness.

You were seconds away from storming out of your apartment to tell him exactly what you thought of his two-faced behavior, but your sister's voice stopped you.

"I appreciate it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Lando replied smoothly. You let out a deep breath, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. Your sister had just started pushing the door open when Lando added: "Oh, and say hi to your sister for me."

That was it. You clenched your fists, shoving past your sister, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before you could get a single word out, his door clicked shut.

"I hate him so much."

From the other side of the door, Lando grinned like an idiot, watching you through the peephole as you stomped away in frustration.

"There's just something special about pissing her off." He mused, clearly enjoying himself.

Max, standing behind him with his arms crossed, let out a sigh. "You're an idiot."

Two days had passed since your sister left for Rome, where she lived with her boyfriend. You were alone again, not that it bothered you. Your parents still lived in Monaco, in the house you grew up in, and you saw them almost every day.

One of the things you loved most about Monaco was being so close to the ocean. Every morning, as soon as you opened your bedroom window, you would close your eyes and breathe it in—the salty air, the gentle breeze, the familiar scent that made you feel at home. It was the perfect way to start the day, making your morning run that much easier.

Like always, before heading to work, you laced up your shoes and stepped outside. Today was no exception.

You had been running for a while, sweat clinging to your skin as your breath fell into a steady rhythm. The music playing softly in your ears didn't drown out the sounds of the city.

Lost in thought, you instinctively turned toward your building, crossing the road without a second glance.

The loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt snapped you out of your trance. A rush of air whooshed past as a sleek car came to a sudden stop just inches from you. Your heart leaped into your throat, your body reacting before your mind caught up. You stumbled back and before you could stop yourself, you were on the ground.

The driver's side door swung open, and before you even looked up, you knew exactly who it was.

Lando stepped out, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, but before he could speak, you were already pushing yourself to your feet, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you insane?" You snapped, ripping your airpods out. "You almost ran me over!"

His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who ran straight into the road without looking!"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth of his words sank in. Still, there was no way you were letting him win this. "Maybe if you weren't driving like a lunatic--"

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Driving like a lunatic? I was literally pulling out of the garage."

You huffed, brushing the dirt off your leggings. "What if it was a kid crossing instead of me?"

"Then I would've stopped, just like I did now." He shot back. "But you... You didn't even look before stepping onto the road! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to worry about being flattened by my obnoxious neighbor before eight in the morning!"

Lando shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're unbelievable."

"You're infuriating."

"You're dramatic."

"You're--"

"Y/n?" A new voice cut through the tension, making both of you turn. Standing a few feet away was your kindergarten director. Dressed in his usual grey suit, he raised an eyebrow at the two of you. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this must have looked, standing in the middle of the street, flustered, sweaty, and arguing with a F1 driver.

"Yes, everything's fine!" You said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

Monsieur Bernard nodded, then glanced at Lando. "I didn't realize you knew such a famous driver, Y/n!" He stretched his hand and Lando shook it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "We're just neighbors."

Lando grinned. "Very close neighbors."

You shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, Monsieur Bernard continued. "You know, our little ones love racing. It would be wonderful if you could visit the school sometime, talk to the kids about it."

"Oh!" You forced a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Lando is far too busy. I wouldn't want to take up his time."

Lando, to your absolute horror, shrugged. "Actually, I think it's a great idea." You snapped your head toward him, eyes wide. "Yeah, why not? I've got some time before the season starts again. I'd love to come by."

Monsieur Bernard smiled. "That's wonderful! Y/n, can you please set everything up?" You smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norris. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." As Monsieur Bernard walked away, you groaned, rubbing your temples. Lando chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "See? I can be a good neighbor."

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel toward your building. "I hope the kids throw paint at you."

Lando chuckled, watching you storm off, clearly frustrated with how the day had started. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary and not even he could deny that your ass looked good on those leggings.

"Stop it, Lando!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if it would physically shake the thoughts away. "Don't go there."

With a deep breath, he slid back into his car, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Without another glance at the building, he drove off.

You lay in bed, scrolling through your phone, hoping to lull yourself to sleep. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, your thumb moving lazily over the screen, until something in your feed made you pause.

Your eyes narrowed as you clicked on the reel. A fan edit of your annoying neighbor filled your screen, all set to a song that did nothing to make him look innocent. Quite the opposite.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes locked on the video as if trapped in some kind of trance. The way he carried himself, the confidence, the effortless charm-- No. Absolutely not.

The reel restarted, snapping you out of whatever trance had just taken over you. With a horrified gasp, you jolted upright, tossing your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

"Ugh-- no. What the hell?" You threw a pillow at your phone, like the device was alive. "Even on my phone?" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This man was infiltrating every corner of your life. And you hated it.

The day had arrived.

The kids had been buzzing with excitement all week, their energy doubling ever since they learned that Lando Norris was coming to visit. It didn't matter that half of them were too young to understand F1, but the mere idea of someone fast and famous coming to their school had them bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, were bracing yourself for chaos.

You had done your best to keep the kids calm, but by the time the morning rolled around, they were practically vibrating with anticipation. What car does he drive? Will he let us race? Can he do drive in the playground?

And then, Lando arrived. Dressed in his McLaren clothes, sunglasses and wearing that signature smile.

The kids lost their minds. "Landoooooo!" The group rushed toward him, bombarding him with questions before he could even say a word.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Lando laughed, crouching down to be at their level.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching as he handled the chaos with surprising ease.

"Can you drive faster than Batman?"

"Can we race you?"

"Do you get scared when you go super fast?"

Lando hesitated for a second, then grinned. "Sometimes! But that's what makes it exciting."

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn't deny that the kids adored him. They hung onto their seats, eyes wide with fascination as he described what it felt like to race at over 300 km/h, how he trained, and even how he sometimes got nervous before big races.

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, you realized that Lando was actually good at this. He had their full attention, something you usually had to work twice as hard for.

And then, as if sensing your thoughts, he caught your eye from across the room and winked, making you gag.

Unfortunately for Lando, someone else caught the moment.

A little girl sitting nearby tilted her head curiously, her big eyes flicking between the two of you. "Is Miss Y/n your girlfriend?" She asked innocently.

Lando, who had just taken a sip of water, immediately started coughing. He nearly choked, hand flying to his chest as he struggled to recover. "What?"

You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. The rest of the kids, now very interested, turned toward you both with excited expressions.

"Is that why you're here?" Another girl asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you live together?" A boy asked before Lando could even recover from the first question.

Lando, still slightly choking, looked horrified.

"Nope!" You cut in quickly, clapping your hands together in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. "Who wants to show Lando their artwork?"

A chorus of Me! Me! Me! erupted, and just like that, the kids forgot all about their matchmaking attempts, eagerly rushing to grab their drawings.

You let out a slow breath, glancing at Lando, who was still lightly hitting his chest.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, his voice still uneven.

You crossing your arms. "They're kids, Lando! If you wink at their teacher, this is what you get."

"A vision of a nightmare?"

You shot him a glare. "Asshole!"

He smirked. "Such a dirty mouth for a kindergarten teacher."

Your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as honey. "And yet, still more mature than a F1 driver."

Lando grinned, leaning in just a little. "Debatable."

Before you could walk away from Lando, chaos erupted.

"Me first!"

"No, me!"

Two of the kids appeared out of nowhere, each clutching their artwork, too focused on their battle to notice where they were going. Straight into you.

You barely had time to react before they crashed into your legs, making you lose balance.

"Oh--"

Lando was sat in a chair right in front of you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell right into him.

His hands instinctively came up to catch you, but it was too late. Your lips brushed against his. It was barely a touch, but enough to make the world stop.

The kids were still yelling, the classroom still buzzing with energy, completely unaware of what had just happened, but all you could register was the way your lips were still touching.

You quickly pulled back, eyes wide, heart racing. Lando blinked up at you, looking just as stunned, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

You straightened, feeling warmth creeping up your neck,

"This is my drawing." One of the kids said, tugging at Lando's sleeve. "It's a boat and this is my dad."

That snapped Lando out of it. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Wow, that's amazing! You're so talented."

You turned away quickly, your pulse still hammering as you focused on the children, pretending like nothing had happened.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, still looking anywhere but at you.

For once, there were no smirks, no teasing, just the feeling that something between you had just shifted.

#f1 #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4

339 notes · View notes

lovhrin · 3 days ago

Text

𓇻 ॱ˖ FROM ME TO YOU park sunghoon mini smau

──ॱ˖ ❀ If there was one person yn would always remember, it would be park sunghoon, the only boy who was kind to her on her first day of school. to her, that small act of kindness meant everything. to him, it was probably just another ordinary day. or at least, that’s what she thought.

in which the most popular boy in school is tired of hiding his interest in the least popular girl in school.

❀ pairing : popular!sunghoon x quiet!femreader

❀ genre : school!au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, smau, loosely based on kimi ni todoke

❀ taglist : closed! @tasnemluvs @honestlyatomicpanda @hhyvsstuff @skepvids @who-tf-soddhi @beigerin @tinyteezer @sasfransisco @giraffeass @velv3ts @seiamor @steddie-steddie @blvengene @starry-eyed-bimbo @ilovbeshotaro @river-demon-slayer @thinkinboutbin @starsunoo @nishimurarikisfinestan @i03jae @greentulip @naevis-hung-up @itsactuallylina @academiq @rikidaze @en-dream @rkivesfilm @kittyyy003 @haechology @univershoon @riribelle @jiiyen @elegancefr @daniellesyellowhands @sunooqvrlsx @justsvstuff @xeee334 @jungcatwonie @starbyeol1512 @right-person-wrong-time @kirakun @rairaiblog @miukidoll @unstableqi @wonuziex @yurisblooming @yyawnjun @pluggtalkk @mydearyeseo @yurisblooming @juyeoz

00. no boys allowed

soft, soothing music drifted through the café, wrapping the space in a sense of peace as the girls enjoyed their meal. the atmosphere was nothing short of serene just as expected. yn always had a way of finding the perfect spots, places that felt like a hidden sanctuary away from the world.

"yn, maybe try eating the food instead of just taking pictures of it," yizhuo teased, laughing at the way yn's face instantly turned red.

"sorry, they're just too cute," she said, finally taking a bite of her totoro cream puff and letting out a satisfied hum. "i need a good collage of photos before school starts, my photography teacher wants us to document our spring break and school starts tomorrow.”

"well, that shouldn't have been hard," yunah said, mouth full, completely ignoring yizhuo's scolding look before taking a sip from yn's drink. "you document everything, you probably haven't even realized how many photos you've taken over the brea—oh!" she suddenly cut herself off, a teasing glint in her eyes as she placed a hand over yn's. "speaking of school, have you thought about joining me for sports day?"

yn awkwardly glanced to the side, avoiding yunah's expectant gaze.

"oh, come on! i even got yiz to join my team," yunah pouted, giving yn her best pleading look.

"which is never happening again," yizhuo chimed in, taking a sip of her kiki themed latte. "i'm only going because you promised to buy me ramen for a month."

"come on, yn! i want both of my girls on my team," yunah whined, taking another sip from yn's drink, despite having her own.

"this is really good," she mused, making yn nod in agreement.

"i know, right?"

"but that's beside the point!" yunah quickly refocused, leaning in with wide, pleading eyes. "please?"

yn looked at her friend and sighed. she was never the sports type, she got tired too easily. she was more of an artsy girl, someone who kept to herself. plus, she had only transferred at the start of the year and still didn’t feel completely comfortable. but she couldn't ignore the fact that yunah and yizhuo had been nothing but kind to her since she moved. she felt like she owed them at least a little consideration.

"i'll think about it," she said at last, meeting yunah's hopeful gaze. "for real this time."

“promise?”

“promise.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, the only sounds being the occasional clink of utensils and the soft hum of café chatter. the girls stayed lost in their own worlds, scrolling through their phones and picking at their food, perfectly at ease in each other's company.

that was until yunah looked up, her eyes widening as she stared past yn and yizhuo toward the entrance.

"what the hell are they doing here?" she muttered.

yn and yizhuo turned to look over their shoulders. yizhuo immediately groaned.

"i thought this place was girls only?" she joked, rolling her eyes.

but yn barely heard her. her focus was locked on the boy who walked in last, trailing behind the others.

sunghoon.

last . masterlist . next

──ॱ˖ ❀ finally starting!!

#lav’s music 𝜗𝜚 #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon smau

182 notes · View notes

zanarkandss · 3 days ago

Text

the perks of having a teleslate

phainon/reader: 656 words; established relationship; mentions of rough sex; phainon is whipped but also very down to ruin you; gn reader; nsfw (minors dni)

part of the reason i wrote this was bc i kept making jokes about how the hell they were gonna deal w phones in ancient greece. well turns out they did and also gave a guy a gun. so what do i know.

Phainon’s wallpaper is you. You’re pretty sure he had you as his teleslate screen before you got together - ‘It’s what best friends do!’ he’d told you, grin plastered on his face. He even rotates the image out on a weekly basis, wanting to make sure he captures every moment of your life.

It’s a sweet sentiment, really. You’re just…slightly concerned for his storage space. Surely it’s getting full by now? You’ll ask to go through his phone and he’ll hand you his teleslate no questions asked, and you can’t help but put your head in your hands at how many photos he’s got of you. Some of these, you have no idea when he’s managed to take them, or how he’s managed to convince your friends to send him photos of you when you’re not with him.

(‘What did you bribe them with?’

‘Who?’ You glare at him. ‘Ahem. Aglaea gets to go through my wardrobe and sort through it. She said she’d keep what you bought me, though, and said it was a blessing you had—‘

‘No more, please. I can't fault her for that.’)

Oh, and Titan’s forbid you try to delete any. He’d swiftly pull the device up and away out of reach, using his height against you. Only when you provide him with the number of kisses he wants (a lot) will he let you go through them again. If you want to delete them, he’ll allow you, though, not without going on about what the photo means to him. Losing to him is an inevitability; you end up way too flustered to let him continue to harp on about how much he loved you in this single moment. That he can do that for each of the photos he has is…a bit too much for your heart.

Well, at least he has the other ones of you hidden. They’re behind another app, something benign that no one would go on. And even then there’s a passcode. He’d whined about wanting to get some photos of the two of you having sex so that he could have something to use while he was away from you.

You found it hard to say no. After all, he’s so earnest, and a hero to boot. Who else could reward him with something like this?

Now, whenever he feels it right, he’ll take a photo. Maybe a quick video too, if he’s daring, though he’d much rather tend to you. These photos you don’t really realise he takes at that moment. You tend to be too fucked out, malleable to his whims as he grips your cheeks with one hand to get you to look into the camera, eyes bleary and body covered with bites. There are others as well. Some, where your face is pressed into the pillows and he pushes you down so hard you can see the veins in his arms. Others, where he’s got you laying on his chest, too tired to sit up to ride him properly, make-up streaked down your face. They’re always followed up with pictures where he’ll be stroking your hair, gentle, placating, as if he didn’t put you in this situation in the first place.

Not that you’ve got room to complain. He tends to you well. Maybe you’re more annoyed at the fact he calls it ‘making love’ like some young pining maiden instead of a man who can fold you in half and ruin you until morning comes, only stopping because he has duties to attend to instead of being left drained of all energy.

Still, you love him. And he loves you too. You’re the only one he’d ever dream of being with like this, the one he wants to see the future of Amphoreus with. And if anything comes between him and that dream? Well, he’s enough strength to protect your honour. He is not a Chrysos Heir for nothing, after all.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #phainon x reader #phainon #hsr smut #bb. works #bb. nsft #i firmly believe he is more of a freak than mydei #idk i need to dissect his brain

219 notes · View notes

stollengoods · 2 days ago

Text

You’re Playing My Game Now

Sub Thanos x Fem! Reader

REQ. Thanos Smut

Warnings: Cursing & Smut

Summary: Your boyfriend is such a needy partner, which results in him always wanting quickies. You usually don’t mind but one day you’ve had enough and force your boyfriend to keep his hands to himself while you take control.

————

Once you locked the stall door behind you Thanos instantly pulled you into a heated kiss. His hands touched every inch of your body that he could while his entire body pressed you up against the bathroom stall door.

You were a little annoyed because your boyfriend was always so needy and wanted quickies. You didn’t mind most of the time but sometimes you wish he took things slow with you, especially when it comes to making love.

He sloppily left a trail of kisses down your neck and you had enough. You firmly pushed Thanos away from you making him stumble back. He blinked his eyes rapidly shaking his head.

“Babe, c’mon can you slow down ?”

He stepped closer to you, his hands slipping under your shirt and resting on your hips. “I’m sorry baby, but…” He looked into your eyes, “I need it. So badly.” He whined, pressing his body against yours. You felt the outline of his hard on press up against leg and let out a shaky breathe.

“Me too, baby.” You interlocked your hands behind his neck, “But can we try taking it slower ?”

He nodded his head, his hands gripping the sides of your waist harder. “I’m just not sure how…” He whispered, a bit embarrassed.

You gave him a smile of reassurance, “Let me take the lead.”

You grabbed his wrists pulling them away from you, “First, no touching.”

You let go of him, using the palm of your hand to push his chest back until his back was against the wall. You kneeled down in front of him, taking his pants down with you. You felt him through his underwear and he threw his head back his mouth agape.

“Fuck baby your always so needy and I’ve barely touched you.” You cooed, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear before pulling them down as well.

Your hands trailed up his thighs, your face only a few inches from his cock. “Please.” He whimpered, feeling your hot breathe on his dick.

You gripped his cock and he sucked in a breath. You then lifted it out of the way to wrap your lips around his balls and began sucking. His hips stuttered forward in surprise and one of his hands went to your head instantly.

He tugged on your hair and you quickly pulled away, his head snapped down to you. “Why’d you stop ?”

You sat on the heels of your feet as you peered up at him, strands of hair covering your face. “I said no touching.”

He quickly nodded his head, removing his hand from you and watched as you gripped his dick taking him into your mouth.

You tasted pre-cum and looked up to see his hand almost reach for your head again but made a fist instead and bit his knuckles trying to suppress his moans.

You reached a hand up, fondling his balls and he lost it. His hips thrusting up pathetically as he flattened his hands against the wall beside him.

“Hey baby…” He breathed. “Baby… baby… please- l-listen to me…”

You came off of him with a pop and stood up, stoking him with your hand, “What’s up baby ?”

He looked at you through half lidded eyes, “It’s killing me not to touch you a-and I really want to be inside you baby, please.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Hmmm, I don’t know…”

He leaned in to kiss you and you allowed him to, his hand snaked down underneath your pants and underwear. You gasped as his fingers circled your clit with your juices. You moaned into the kiss, cupping his face with your hands, not realizing how wet you got from pleasing your boyfriend.

You were about to pull away from him until he inserted two fingers into you. Your eyes rolled back and he took this opportunity to flip you guys, now your back against the bathroom wall. Your breathing quickened as you placed a hand on his shoulder to keep your balance.

You hadn’t realized his other hand was on your boob until he pinched your nipple. You clenched around his fingers and he sped up his pace.

“I-I’m close.” You spoke shakily.

He removed his fingers and you whimpered. He spun you around and yanked down your pants along with your underwear.

He slid his dick along your slit collecting your juices, pumping himself a few times, he used your arousal as lube before sliding himself into you.

“Oh god…” he groaned into your ear, “Finally.”

Your legs shook from the way he stretched you out, he wasn’t the longest but his width made up for it. Your hands along with the side of your face were pressed up against the bathroom wall.

You let him take full control now, his hands gripping your sides helping you meet up with his thrusts. Your lower back was getting sore from the position but the pleasure out did the pain so you didn’t care.

For the first time since you guys have been together, you came before him. Thanos’s head was now in the crook of your neck, feeling you uncontrollably clench around his cock.

“Oh fuck- did you just cum ?”

All you could do was nod your head meekly as he continued to thrust into you. Surprisingly you felt yourself clenching around him again and he bit your shoulder as his warm cum filled you up.

Your eyes glazed over as one of his fingers reached around your waist to play with your clit.

“Oh my- fucking hell-“ you moaned out, moving yourself on him.

His lips trailed kisses up your neck stopping by your ear, “C’mon baby, cum for me again.”

The pace on your clit quickened and so did your movements on his cock. You loved the filling of his cum being rammed into you, filling you up and then dripping out of you.

You came undone a few moments later and Thanos pulled out of you. A mix of his cum and your juices forming a small puddle on the floor. He pulled up his pants and underwear before turning you around and you following suit.

You instantly attached your lips to his, pushing him back until his back was against the other wall. His hands rested on your hips as you hungrily made out with him. You’ve never felt this needy for your boyfriend before and it made him chuckle.

“Look who’s the needy one now.” He smirked.

You’ve never came two times in a row, you’ve heard that woman can have multiple orgasms but never believed it until now. You’d think that after cumming twice you would be satisfied but it was like eating a bag of chips; once you started you couldn’t stop, you needed more.

“Shut up and fuck me.” You whispered.

His eyes were filled with amusement, sure you’ve begged him to fuck you before but never like this. “Babe… I-I need some time.” He chuckled as you tried to stroke him through his pants again, but he wasn’t getting hard.

“Shit.” You whispered in frustration, you forgot that men weren’t like women. They can’t have multiple orgasms in a row which was fine before but now caused you vexation.

He flipped you guys, having your back against the wall now. “But I can satisfy you in other ways.” He kneeled down in front of you, removing your pants and underwear. You threw your head back with the biggest smile on your face as he began to eat you out.

171 notes · View notes

nanamisgirly · 3 days ago

Text

nanami who is a desperate man.

Damn society, damn work, damn the teasing picture you sent him during his lunch break.

nanami whose cock was blue by now, aching to be inside your sweet little cunt. Damn capitalism that forced him to be at work instead of being inside ur so tight pussy. Damn it!

nanami who looked at the clock, 5pm. Two hours to wait..two little hours, he can do it. he surely can do it.

nanami who, when 7pm reached, did not wait a second longer to leave his work.

nanami who made sur to send you a pic of his hard cock, tip read, already lacking precum before taking the road.

nanami who grilled all those red lights on the road. still made sur not to cause any accident, couldn’t risk being late !

nanami who found you whimpering on their bed, with a sex toy right in between your legs. he couldn’t believe his eyes!

nanami who made sur to punish you correctly for this oh so wrongly behavior. « Pleasuring yourself while i’m not home » he spanked your ass roughly. Shaking his head in disapproval, he added « teasing me with this slutty pic only for you to touch yourself like that » a spank even harder this time, leaving a red mark on your right cheek. That slap had you moaning so loud, you couldn’t help. « tsk tsk tsk, look at you, a total mess..i should rearrange your sweet little inside for this bad behavior you had, don’t you think so? » he said in a deep voice. you swear one more second across his laps, one more slap and you could come just like that. you were too far gone with one of his hand on your lower back forcing you in a mean arch and the other caressing your butt.

« asked you a question.. » nanami’s hand drifting lower « need an answer sweetie » and he suddenly grabbed your pussy. his palm on your entrance and his fingers reaching your clit. god his fingers were so long. « i-i’m- ngh, fuck » his middle finger just circled your clit « what’s that princess, suddenly feeling less bold? thought you could handle some playing after sending me a pic of you so not clothes pussy in this string almost disappearing fully into your cunt » you were making a total mess on his hand down there. his words were no help to calm your euphoric state. as if you wanted him to stop saying filthy words to you

nanami tapped rhythmically now on your clit and used his thumb to play with your fat pussy lips. « Nanami… » you cried out « princess » he simply replied « Please, ngh, so good- but..need more » you put ur face onto the pillow, the friction was so delicious your hips started to move on their own. His other hand went for the back of your head and he grabbed. as mean as the grab on your pussy. he turned your head so you could lock eyes. « i don’t think you’re the one in command. » he removed his hand from between your legs and in one swift motion put you harshly on his thigh. « see, when you provoc and have the nerf to pleasure yourself, waste that sweet taste of yours that i could have licked oh so nicely, and made you reach your climax in a time record..im a litlle…frustrated » you swear his words made you impossibly water than you were already, you’re probably sur you even left a big wet spot on his pants.

Nanami had his hands on your hips and made you move sooo slowly, an agonizing pace. « i don’t think you deserve to be fucked all nice » whispering in your ear « that pussy is allll mine, thought that was clear enough » he licked your ear lobe and added « but if you’re so miserably in need of some good cock, i could always put a vibrator in that little whore pussy of yours and control it by distance. I would come from work and ram my big cock into your already drenched pussy. How does that sound, mh? » your walls clenched around nothing, all that teasing put you on the edge « Kento, i-i’m sorry, » he started to leave wet, open kisses all along your neck, biting, sucking « Ngh, Kento~ i won’t do it again, just- oh god » nanami sucked on that sensitive spot, under your ears, his flat tongue pressing on it. He smirked « here we go, calling for god? ma girl i don’t think he could save you from what imma do to you »

nanami who had you on all four, slamming harshly in your cunt. « ‘s big, too- too big~ » your face was pressing on the pillows by his hand, you were almost suffocating. nanami groaned, slamming harder into you « huh, don’t wanna hear any complain. take it like the good slut you are » you were sur you’d be left with bruises he was basically ramming into you like an animal. His 9.5 inches bullying your cervix with each thrust. « tho, you’re pussy is very noisy, do you hear those wets sounds ? music to my ears » your walls were spasming around his thick cock « this pussy wants me in forever, she’s trying to suck me in. damn, so fuckin’ tight » and just like that one of his feet was next to your head and he was deeper than ever.

slap, slap, slap

« your cunt is magic, never had a pussy that good, trying to break my cock or somethin’. milking all around it, sooo messy » at this rate he would be the one breaking your hips from the hard grip he had on them. Everything was so mean, so naughty, so good. « kento, » you cried out « i know sweetie, don’t come yet, i wanna, » groan « cum with you » nanami lifted his lips and, with this new angle, he was touching your g-spot. « oh, » you left out, hands gripping around the sheets « no one ever fucked you like that, right? my sweet little girl with that slutty pussy of hers being alllll fucked out » you moaned so loudly, seeing stars « don’t stop, it’s- angh » you were so cockdrunk, nanami bullying your cunt like that was delightful. « kento~ ‘s too much, p-please, need to- need to cum, please » nanami’s hand went for your clitoris, circling it, pinching it « here we go princess » his hips were going in a frenetic space all we could hear was your skins slapping against each other and of cours your wet pussy's sounds thats nanami liked so much.

your legs were trembling underneath him « im here sweetie, let it go » his arms went around your waist straightened you up so your back could rest against his torso. his hand still working on your clit, he used the other to press against your lower stomach « im all the way up here princess ». the pressure on your belly was too good, his hand on your clit was too good, his fat cock was stretching you so good. your climax hit you with waves of pleasure literally shaking your whole body. your gummy walls spasming again and again around him « fuck, » nanami let out in a shaky voice and he came as well after some sloppy thrusts into you, letting out hot, long white streams inside you. he never cum that much-too much, it even lacked out of you…

nanami who made sur to buy a vribator the next day so he could put it on your sweet needy cunt.

first writing ever be indulgent, i accept any constructive criticism :D (im still trying to understand how to use this app lmao)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk fanfic #smut

242 notes · View notes

colorfulwhisperstriumph · 1 day ago

Text

IT'S BECAUSE HOUSE MAKES WILSON BE A PERSON, AND WILSON MAKES HOUSE BE A PERSON TOO (or tries to, even though House usually does it wrong)

Wilson buying House an organ after House challenged him to buy something that reflected HIS (Wilson's) self-identity = gay as hell.

Why, you ask? Well, let me explain, dear Tumblr user(s)..

Wilson buying House an organ after House challenged him to buy a piece of furniture that reflected his self-identity, at least to me, means that Wilson thinks House completes him, and therefore decides that getting House and organ was a wise choice.

HOWEVER.

(Alternate option)

In one of the other episodes (either before or after this one,) but most definitely before amber's death, it is revealed that Wilson is a major people pleaser.

(for context, Amber leaves Wilson in a mattress store, gives him some money before leaving and tells him to buy whatever bed he wants. Wilson buys the bed that Amber said she liked, and she tells him to buy something that he wants, addressing Wilson's people pleasing behaviour.)

In the episode where Wilson buys House this organ/piano (idk what name to use but I think it's a piano), it's also possible that Wilson may have bought it to please House instead of buying something that actually expressed his self-identity, because his people pleasing has lead him to forget who he is.

In this case, although it may not explain why he smiled at House after he said that he likes what the purchase said about him, it seems like a very good explanation, but that may just be me rationalising.

house challenged wilson to buy ONE piece of furniture that is a reflection of his self identity, and wilson goes ahead and buys an organ. for house.

THE FUCKING IMPLICATIONS????!?!?? (look at the relief on wilson's face im going to cry)

#house x wilson #james wilson #gregory house #house md #James Wilson is a people pleaser #And it ruins him #YOU HAVE NO PEOPLE SKILLS!!#what is wrong with these old man whores..

704 notes · View notes

insidekatmind · 1 day ago

Text

More than enemies-Cho Sang woo

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The conflict had become your daily bread. Every day, every interaction, was a new opportunity to challenge each other, to throw sharp jabs, to ridicule each other. Neither of you ever gave in. The silence was tense, but it was soon shattered by another exchange that seemed to never end. The room, though small, felt too big to contain the tension between you and Sang-woo.

“You really don’t understand a damn thing, do you?” Sang-woo huffed, crossing his arms with an air of superiority. “Do you think I’m talking to please you?”

You didn’t even need to respond right away. You knew there was no reasoning with him, but his words always hurt, more than you ever wanted to admit. “I don’t care if you’re talking to please me,” you replied coldly, “but maybe you should learn to respect people instead of thinking they’re beneath you.”

Sang-woo laughed, but it was a laugh full of contempt. “Respect? Have you ever wondered why I don’t respect you? Maybe because you don’t deserve respect.”

His words stung, but you weren’t going to back down. “Maybe you should look at yourself in the mirror, Sang-woo. Because all I see is a man who’s trying to look bigger than he really is.”

The others, sitting in the corner of the room, were enjoying the spectacle of your constant back-and-forth. Gi-hun was the first to laugh, amused by the way you two were challenging each other like a pair of wild animals ready to pounce. Ali, with his always genuine smile, looked confused but intrigued by the situation. Sae-byeok, on the other hand, observed silently, her sharp gaze tracking every move, every word, as though it was a chess game where you two were the key pieces.

“Look at them, looks like they’re putting on a show,” Gi-hun whispered, but loud enough to be heard. “There’s more tension here than in one of our games.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them breaks down,” Ali added, chuckling. “They’re so used to fighting, I don’t think they can stop.”

Sae-byeok lifted the corner of her mouth, watching intently, as though she was trying to figure out where this dynamic would lead. “There’s got to be something more to it,” she said seriously. “It’s not just hate.”

You could feel your blood boiling, the anger burning inside, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. “Yeah, sure, as if you’re the only one here with a brain,” you replied, but the sarcasm in your voice didn’t hide the frustration eating away at you.

Sang-woo, however, wasn’t backing down. “You don’t get it, do you? That’s exactly what pisses me off about you. Always acting tough, but underneath that hard exterior, there’s just a bunch of weaknesses.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst, but before you could respond, Gi-hun threw a glance between you and Sang-woo. “Okay, guys, enough, we can’t be here all day watching you two fight,” he said, his tone joking but a little nervous, as if he was trying to calm the situation. “Please, at least let us breathe.”

Ali chuckled. “I think we’ve just witnessed a new form of psychological torture.”

Sae-byeok remained silent, but a small smile crept onto her face as she watched the way you both provoked each other, as though she was taking mental notes for something that might come in handy later.

But you knew, despite everything, it wasn’t over. The war between you and Sang-woo would never end. It didn’t matter how much you hated each other. It was too deep, too ingrained. And you both knew it.

After a while you get the guard to take you to the bathroom and sang woo follows you. Since the bathrooms were unique for both males and females.You were washing your hands when you heard his voice.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on his face.“You don’t need to hide in the bathroom to avoid me, you know,” he said, his tone a mix of mockery and amusement.You turn around, looking at him boredly. "Now a person can't go to the bathroom because otherwise it will make your head go up" you say approaching him.

Sang-woo chuckled. "Oh, come on, we both know that’s not what I meant." He didn’t flinch as you got closer; the smirk on his face only seemed to intensify."Besides, you’re not exactly subtle," he said, tilting his head to one side. "It’s almost pathetic, the way you try to avoid me."

Your blood boiled at his words, but you kept your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you get worked up. "I’m not avoiding you," you replied, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just find you absolutely insufferable."

His smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Oh, please, you’re not fooling anyone." He took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. "The way you glare at me, the way you snap at my every word, it’s clear that I get under your skin," he said, his voice low and taunting.

You backed away instinctually as he stepped closer, but you quickly regained your composure, refusing to let him get the upper hand. "Don’t flatter yourself,” you retorted. “You’re not the first arrogant, overconfident prick I’ve had to deal with.”

Sango woo looks at you and grabs you by the neck pushing you against the bathroom wall. “careful how you talk little girl” Sang woo says looking at you as his grip on your neck tightened.

Your heart jumped at the sudden physical contact and the way he pressed you against the wall, his grip around your neck tight and threatening. "What, you can't handle hearing the truth?" You retorted, trying to keep your voice from quivering, even as his grip tightened, making it harder to talk.He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "You really enjoy pushing my buttons, don’t you?"

You tried to stand your ground, ignoring the way your heart raced in your chest and your breath caught in your throat, but the close proximity to him and the grip he had on your neck made it difficult to think straight. "At least I'm not afraid to be honest, unlike some people," you manage to say, glaring up at him defiantly.

Sang-woo’s grip tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully, as if to punish you for your stubbornness. He leaned in even closer, his face only inches from yours now, his gaze intense and unyielding."Honesty, huh?" He huffed, his voice a low growl. "Or perhaps you’re just too stupid to know when to keep your mouth shut."

Sang-woo’s eyes widened slightly as your hand touched his arm, and his grip on your neck loosened just a bit. He noticed you looking at his lips, and for a brief moment, it seemed like something passed between you two, an almost electric energy flowing through the air. He held your gaze, his expression still hardened, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of surprise and perhaps a shadow of something else.

Sang woo kisses you roughly without saying anything. The kiss took you by surprise, Sang-woo's lips pressing against yours roughly, demanding and controlling. You felt a mix of shock and defiance, but something deep within you responded to the kiss, a desire you'd never wanted to admit being ignited. For a moment, everything else melted away, the tension and animosity that always hung between you two seemed to vanish. There was just the two of you, the feel of his lips on yours, the firm grip of his hand on your neck.

You moan softly and try to hold on to him. Sang-woo's lips moved from your lips to your jawline, your neck, creating a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. He pushed you harder against the wall, his grip around your waist tight and possessive. The sound of your soft moan seemed to awaken something in him, a feral hunger that made his actions more urgent. "You’re mine now," he whispered against your skin, his voice raspy and possessive.

You moan and give him more space as you look at him longingly. Sang-woo’s eyes darkened with desire as he pressed himself against you, his body molding to yours in a way that felt both dangerous and intoxicating. He moved his hand from your neck to your face, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, his touch almost caressing. "You’ve been mine since the moment we met," he whispered, his voice rough with a possessive edge.

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew the truth in them, even though you’d always denied it. There was something about him, a darkness and intensity that called to something deep within you. His grip on your waist tightened, and he pulled you even closer, his lips against your ear. "Say you’re mine," he demanded, his voice low and seductive.

“I'm yours,” you whisper, clinging to him, kissing his jaw. Sang-woo let out a low moan as your lips touched his jaw, his hand on your waist sliding up to your back, pulling you even closer.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his eyes dark and hooded, his breath fanning across your face.

He takes off your sweatpants and underwear and quickly unwinds you and turns you gently against the wall, entering you, making you both moan. “So tight,” he whispers in his ear as he pushes into you. You moan and lean into him and Sang woo nips at your neck, making you moan lo

“You make such beautiful sounds” Sang woo whispers as he places his hands tighter on your hips fucking you harder.

“Sang woo” you moan loudly as you lean against the wall and he grunts. Sang-woo growls lowly, the sound sending a jolt through your body. He pushes you harder against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, his hands roaming over you possessively.

"Say it again," he demands, his lips moving down to your neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin. "Say my name again."

“Sango woo” you moan even louder feeling his thrusts increase. Sang-woo lets out a guttural moan as you say his name, his grip on you tightening almost to the point of pain.

"That’s right," he breathes, his voice ragged, barely coherent as he continues to move against you, his desires taking over all reason. "Moan my name, let me hear you." Every sound you make, every gasp and moan drives him wilder. He can hardly control himself, the primal need to claim you, to make you his and only his, is all-consuming. His lips move back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites, marking you as his.

He bites down on a sensitive spot on your neck and you let out a yelp of pain, but he just laughs against your skin, the pain adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations. Sang-woo's body is pressed tightly against yours, his muscles rippling with the effort to hold himself back. He can sense he’s on the edge, his breath ragged and his heart pounding.

"You're going to make me lose control," he mutters against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. His hands roams over your body, leaving burning trails wherever they touch. He grabs onto your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh, as if he's trying to brand you with his touch.

He pushes his cock into you even harder making you both cum. At that moment Sae byeok, Gi hun and Ali come in since they were worried that you hadn't come back. And when they see the scene Ali giggles. “Finally,” Gi-hun murmurs.

Sang-woo freezes, his body still pressed against you as Sae-byeok and Gi-hun appear in the doorway, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. It takes a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, and a wave of shame and embarrassment washes over both of you. Ali laughs heartily, clearly finding the entire situation amusing. "Looks like we were right!" he exclaims.

Sang woo covers your body with his. “Go away” Sang woo murmurs who was still inside you.

Gi-hun and Sae-byeok exchange amused glances, but both of them seem to realize the gravity of the situation. "Alright, alright, we'll go," Gi-hun relents, grabbing Ali's arm and heading for the door. "You two behave yourselves."

Ali's laughter trails behind him as they exit, leaving you and Sang-woo alone once again, but this time with the aftermath of what had just happened.

164 notes · View notes

ayumigotabittoolonely · 22 hours ago

Text

Valentine's special

SYPNOSIS : valentine's day has come and so has your boyfriend's excitement (some of you are married)

When I said everyone I meant every one including jogo

1 2 3

Nanami kento (husband)

Nanami Kento x Reader 7th Valentine’s Day Together

The Thoughtful Tradition – Nanami believes in consistency, so every year, he writes you a heartfelt letter instead of just buying a card. Seven years in, he’s got a little collection of them stored away, each one a deeper testament to his love. This year, he hands you the envelope with slightly pink-tinted ears, murmuring, “I tried to outdo last year’s, but words always fall short with you.”

Breakfast in Bed – He’s up early, making sure your favorite breakfast is prepared to perfection. No work today, he insists, pushing a plate toward you with that ever-so-soft look in his eyes. He even makes your coffee exactly how you like it, and if you’re feeling mischievous, you tug him back into bed with you for some extra cuddles. (Which he pretends to resist, but we all know he melts the second you bury your face in his chest.)

A Home Cooked Candlelit Dinner – Forget overpriced restaurants Nanami insists on making dinner himself because he wants everything to be personal. He spent days planning the menu, picking up ingredients from that one small market he trusts, and ensuring every dish is cooked to perfection. The moment he serves you, he watches for your reaction, waiting for that pleased little hum of approval.

The Gift Exchange – You both go all out for each other, but Nanami always leans toward something meaningful. This year, he surprises you with a customized piece of jewelry something discreet yet elegant, engraved with a tiny, personal message only the two of you would understand. And when you give him your gift, whether it’s a perfectly tailored suit, a sentimental keepsake, or even a scrapbook of your seven years together, you can see the way he swallows hard, genuinely touched.

Slow Dancing in the Living Room – After dinner, there’s no rush to do anything else. He simply takes your hand, pulls you into his arms, and sways with you to soft jazz playing in the background. It’s warm, safe, and intimate the kind of moment where you realize this is what love is. And when he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, he murmurs, “Seven years still isn’t enough. I hope you’re ready for a lifetime more.”

Gojo Satoru (boyfie)

Gojo Satoru x Reader The Most Chaotic valentine's

He Plans… Sort Of? – Gojo insists he has the perfect Valentine’s Day planned. The problem? He made the plans at 3 AM, half-awake, while eating candy, so the itinerary is questionable at best. He tells you to “just trust him” with that smug grin, but you already know chaos is coming.

The Over-the-Top Gift – This man does not do simple. He probably buys you way too many presents expensive jewelry, limited-edition snacks, a plushie that looks exactly like you (creepy, but also kinda cute???). And just for the drama, he hands you a small box first, acting all serious… only for it to contain a single mint or a terrible pun written on a sticky note. He thinks it’s hilarious. (Don’t worry, he actually got you something breathtaking, he just likes messing with you first.)

A Date That Feels Like a Fever Dream – Gojo doesn’t believe in boring dates, so expect something wild. Ice skating at an exclusive rink that he rented out just for you two? A spontaneous trip to another country just for dessert? Taking you to the highest rooftop just to show you the best view? He’s a menace, but he makes sure every second is fun and unforgettable.

Loud, Dramatic Love Confessions – He never stops talking about how much he loves you. He’s saying it every five minutes, in front of strangers, to strangers—he literally stops an old lady on the street just to say, “Ma’am, isn’t my partner the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen?” (She agrees, obviously.)

The Softest, Most Unexpected Moment – Somewhere in the chaos, there’s a pause. You’re both sitting somewhere maybe watching the city lights, maybe just lying down after running around all day. And suddenly, Gojo is quiet. His fingers trace slow circles on your palm, and when he speaks, his voice is softer than usual. “You know… I don’t think I could’ve made it this far without you.”

A Love That Feels Like Forever – He pulls you closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, and murmurs, “Every day with you feels like Valentine’s, y’know?” And in that moment, you realize Gojo Satoru might be the most chaotic man alive, but when he loves, he loves with everything he has.

Geto suguru (post fall sorry)

Post-Fall Geto Suguru x Reader A Bittersweet Valentine’s Day

The Silent Acknowledgment – Suguru isn’t the same man he was before, and you both know it. Valentine’s Day used to be something sweet a day filled with laughter and lighthearted teasing. But now, there’s an unspoken weight to it. He doesn’t say anything about the day at first, but you know he remembers. He always remembers.

A Late-Night Visit – You don’t expect anything, not from this version of him. But when night falls, there’s a soft knock at your door. And there he is tired, a little disheveled, but unmistakably Suguru. He doesn’t say much, just, “Mind if I come in?” His voice is quieter than usual, almost hesitant, like he’s fighting an internal battle just by being here.

A Simple Gesture, a Complex Meaning – He’s not the type to bring flowers anymore, but he does place something small on the table. A single, folded piece of paper. You recognize his handwriting immediately. It’s not an elaborate love letter just a simple, raw, unpolished confession. A reminder that even after everything, even after the blood on his hands, you are still the one thing he can never erase from his heart.

A Moment of Vulnerability – He sits on your couch, running a hand through his hair, sighing. You know he’s tired not just physically, but emotionally, mentally. And yet, when you place your hand over his, he doesn’t pull away. He just looks at you, something aching in his expression, and murmurs, “Do you ever regret it?”

A Love That Still Lingers – You tell him the truth: never. Because no matter how much he’s changed, how much distance he’s tried to put between you, your love for him has never wavered. And for a split second, the Geto Suguru you knew is there again the one who used to tease you, who used to hold you so effortlessly. He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re too good for me.”

The Goodbye That Always Hurts – He doesn’t stay the night. He never does. When the clock strikes midnight, he rises, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before murmuring, “Happy Valentine’s, sweetheart.” And just like that, he’s gone leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his presence and the quiet ache of knowing he’ll always come back, but never stay.

(don't come for me i m my biggest hater , I hate myself for this 😭)

Sukuna

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader A Valentine’s Day 💀

First of All, He Does Not Care. (Or So He Says.) – If you expect Sukuna to be the type to celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal man, you’re delusional. The second you mention the holiday, he scoffs. “Tch. What a pathetic, human tradition.” But guess what? By the end of the day, he’s still making it all about him and you.

The “Gift” Is a Power Move – Sukuna absolutely gives you a “gift,” but it’s something stupidly extravagant, just to show off. A throne? A legendary weapon? A cursed object with a horrifying backstory? If you ask for flowers, he’ll probably massacre an entire enchanted garden and present it to you like he just did you the biggest favor. “There. A hundred dead roses. Happy?”

Dinner… If You Survive It – He definitely takes you somewhere insane, whether you like it or not. “We’re feasting,” he declares and next thing you know, you’re seated at a cursed banquet where the dishes move and the drinks are probably forbidden. If you hesitate to eat something, he smirks and says, “What? Don’t trust me?” (No, you don’t, but you’re also not about to give him the satisfaction of saying it.)

Possessiveness Disguised as Indifference – If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way on Valentine’s, they’re dead. Simple. But if you call him out on it, he just shrugs. “I don’t care what weaklings do,” he mutters. But the way his hand lingers on your waist? The way his claws tighten ever so slightly when someone gets too close? Yeah, he cares.

The Unexpectedly Soft Moment (That He Will Deny Forever) – Somewhere in the chaos, there’s a moment when it’s just you and him. Maybe you’re sitting on the temple steps, maybe you’re staring at the moon. And for once, he’s not teasing or threatening you. He just looks at you really looks at you and says, “Tch. You’re lucky I tolerate you.” But his voice is lower, almost… fond.

The “Goodnight” That Isn’t Really a Goodnight – If you expect a sweet ending, please be serious. Sukuna does not whisper loving confessions or pull you into a tender embrace. No, he just smirks and says something infuriating like, “Don’t get used to this.” But the way his hand lingers on your wrist for just a second longer? The way he doesn’t let you go to bed without pulling you into his lap first? That’s his version of love. And honestly? It’s kind of addicting.

Me with geto suguru :

105 notes · View notes

eempyreall · 3 days ago

Note

Heyy! i hope you’re doing good! i have a request for a hybrid lion mikey or any tokyo revengers character you would like with a hamster hybrid! reader! like predator and prey type of thing, Have a nice day!

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy this!

༺————————————————————————༻

♪ 𝐶𝑎𝑡 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑅𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑦 𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒! 𝑏𝑦 𝐶𝑂𝑅𝑃𝑆𝐸 ♪

༺ Plaything ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrid Mikey x Hamster Hybrid Female Reader

Summary ~ You were found, almost unconscious, by a dumpster and brought home to another hybrid.

Featuring ~ Sano Manjiro and Owner Baji Keisuke. Mentioned Matsuno Chifuyu and Hanemiya Kazutora

Extra Notes ~ This is the fandom version of this story. If you want to read the non fandom that provides original characters, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Baji never thought twice about bringing strays home. It was just in his nature—especially when he found them injured or near death. Although he was more of a cat person, he couldn’t deny the heaviness in his heart when he found you—shivering, dirty, and barely breathing next to a dumpster in an alleyway. The fur on your ears was matted, and your eyes were barely open.

Once Baji bent down, you bared your teeth as your tail flicked with agitation, immediately sitting upright as you shoved your back against the grimy wall.

He found it interesting that a hamster hybrid like you could have so much willpower and energy to defend yourself. Instead of sending you to one of the sanctuaries that cared for hybrid monsters before sending them off to scientists, he decided to nurse you back to health.

Of course, he had his close friends, Chifuyu and Kazutora, help aid in his quest to clean you up and get you on your feet.

When you were finally well, you showed your gratitude to all of them before Baji took you home.

But you weren’t expecting another hybrid to live with him. It wasn’t a problem until you realized that the hybrid was a cat hybrid.

The moment Baji brought you through the door, Mikey’s dark eyes locked onto you. His tail swayed lazily, ears perking with interest. He’d always been a predator at heart, but it wasn’t hunger in his gaze—it was a sick sort of amusement.

Despite Mikey being spoiled with many toys, you were his favorite by far. No matter how much you hissed, spat, cursed, or tried to run, Mikey always caught you. His tactics were frustratingly unpredictable—sometimes he'd chase you, claws grazing your back and drawing blood as he pounced.

Other times, he'd creep up behind you, silent, as if he were stalking prey, before snatching your tail and dragging you across the floor like a doll.

It was even more fun for him when you tried to hide.

“Found you,” he'd hum, pinning you down by stepping on your tail.

Your ears would flatten as you tugged at your tail, trying your best to ignore the pain. “Let me go, you fucking asshole!”

He'd tilt his head in response, blonde tips touching his shoulder as he crouched to your level, grabbing the back of your head before pulling you close. He'd rub his cheek against yours while purring, marking you with his scent.

“I can do whatever I want,” he'd boast with a wide smile.

Sometimes, he'd sniff you with a look of irritation. “You reek of Baji,” he'd complain before dragging his tongue over the skin of your neck until you were covered in his scent, causing you to shudder in the process.

“Mikey, she's not a chew toy. You can't just bite her like that,” Baji said, arms crossed as he gave Mikey an unamused gaze.

Painful marks and bruises covered the skin of your neck, collarbone, arms, and even thighs. Unfortunately, when you tried to bite Mikey back, he'd only shudder before pulling you closer, egging you on to bite him again.

“You're so fucking weird, Mikey,” you'd say as he pinned you while rubbing his face against your concealed breasts.

He'd moan as your claws pierced his shoulders while you tried to push him off of you. You'd gasp at the red hue forming on his face before his head dipped into the crook of your neck.

“Mikey! Get off!”

You'd freeze as his claws gripped your jaw and moved your face to the side.

“Quit struggling. You're mine whether you like it or not,” he'd say, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear before he extracted his fangs and bit into the skin of your neck.

The pain would cause you to scream and cry before the palm of his hand covered your mouth.

“Figured you might like someone around who isn't a damn cat,” Baji said as he introduced the male hamster hybrid he had, ironically, found dumped in the same spot as you.

The male stood with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression as you mimicked his stance.

Having another hamster around should have been a relief. You figured that Mikey would be distracted tormenting the new guy since he should get bored of you.

It wasn't until that night, when Mikey woke up from his nap, that you and Baji heard screams, squeals, and squelching before the apartment went silent.

Your jaw dropped when you found a bloody Mikey licking the crimson off his hand as he sat beside the corpse of the new hybrid.

His ribcage was split open, bones exposed as crimson, entrails, and flesh covered the area.The smell was the most sickening part, as well as Mikey's calm expression.

“Goddamn it, Mikey,” Baji growled as his fingers reached his temple.

“Not my fault, Baji. You're the one who brought her a mate~,” he responded with a heavy-lidded gaze.

You couldn't focus on the conversation as you felt bile rise in your throat. You almost forgot that Mikey was a predator and not just some little shit who bothered you consistently.

While Baji had Kazutora and Chifuyu help him clean the remains, Mikey held you closely, his warmth covering your back as you both lay beneath the covers of your bed.

Once again, after a shower, he was in a deep slumber, leaving you alone with your thoughts about the events that had happened before. You had forgotten how serious of a situation this was and that Mikey could kill you at any instant. You came to terms with the fact that you might just have to accept being Mikey’s toy.

111 notes · View notes

mr-wrinkleton · 1 day ago

Text

FREE HAIRCUT | CHRIS STURNIOLO

in which … you finally convince chris to let you give him a haircut. but instead of cash payment, he gives you something else in return.

— “y’know, the payment doesn’t have to be in cash.”

smut, hairstylist!reader x bsf!chris, no use of y/n, pet names, oral f!receiving, fingering, cursing, etc.

word count: 2050

it's been months since chris got a haircut last, his brown locks longer than usual. you never complained though, chris was the one who did all the complaining about his longer hair. just talking all day about getting a haircut but never actually going.

everytime you'd offer to cut his hair for him, he'd automatically decline before you got any further into your sentence.

chris explained that you didn't need to "do him any favors." he'd say as he'd walk away from you. sipping the newly opened pepsi.

"do you think i'll fuck it up?" you asked him, walking about a foot away from him as he sat down on the couch. chris swallowed the sip he previously took from his drink about a second ago. "no, ma. i just don't want you doing me any favors for free." chris said with his hands up defensively.

you set your place down on the couch next to chris, about an inch away. the way his face illuminated in the light made you realize all his perfections.

the silence was loud for a good second or two, chris' eyes occupied on the tv playing god knows what. meanwhile yours, focused on chris and his hair. the backwards fitted cap he was wearing made his hair fall behind his head and onto the back of his neck.

your body moved an inch closer towards chris, you looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours. the ones that chris could never resist. just as he realized how you were looking at him, he immediately reiterated. "no. i'm not letting you." he said matter a factly. "god chris, please! just let me cut your hair. i literally work at a hair salon." you ranted, "i cut hair daily."

chris kept his gaze on you. flickering down to your lips and then straight back to your eyes. the eyes he gets lost in way too easily. your own eyes preoccupied on his whole face. chris let out a long and exaggerated sigh with his eyes rolling dramatically. your eyes lighting up immediately because you knew what he was about to say.

"fine. cut my hair." he finally said with a soft smile, nudging you in the shoulder. your spot on the sofa was immediately gone and you were tugging chris into the bathroom by the wrist.

music played from chris' phone into the echoey bathroom. vibrations bouncing off the walls as 'awkward' by sza blasts from the speakers of chris' phone. his hair was very damp from having wet it in the sink 20 minutes prior.

your fingers worked delicately on chris' head, cutting small chunks at a time. the brown locks fell onto the towel that was wrapped around the back side of the boys neck and then to the floor.

after another snip or two the back of his head was all cleaned up. a good inch or two cut off. now to work on the front of his head. your feet moved swiftly along the tile of the bathroom towards the front of chris' face.

your feet planted in front of chris, blocking his clear view of himself in the bathroom mirror. your chest covered by your tank top was the only thing he could see now. biting his lip as he tried not to say anything about it.

the feeling of your fingers in chris' damp - but almost dry - hair sent waves of shock through him. you tried to figure out how to clean up the rest of his head. the final conclusion you came to was to just add some thin layers to the top.

you slid your feet to either side of chris in the chair, hovering over his lap and your chest getting closer to his face. the comb and scissors moving delicately over and through his hair. trimming off small chunks.

some small peices landed onto the tip of his nose, making him try and get it off with his hand. you noticed this and got your lips relatively close to his nose, blowing a small puff of air to get the hair off of his nose, making him flinch. "hold still." you mumbled as you went back to snipping.

"yes ma'am." chris mumbled back to you. only causing you to roll your eyes at his words.

in the middle of cutting, you felt hands slither onto your skin, up your thighs and to your hips. chris being the culprit of his own actions, tugging onto your pajama shorts. the cool of his silver bracelet that dangled from his wrist hit the heat of your skin. making you shiver.

chris tugged at your shorts some more, fingertips gripping your hips harder before pulling you downwards and onto his lap. letting a soft whine leave your plump lips. your tits were in perfect line of chris eyes now. your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of your tank top. the cool of the ac making you shiver.

trying to keep your cool, you finished up the last bit of his hair, snipping quickly but not too quickly. the snipping sound of the scissors emitting through the bathroom as music continued to blast through the phones speakers.

after about 10 minutes of cutting and telling chris to hold still and stop messing with shit, his hair was done. chris' hair had dried by now and it looked much cleaner than when they started. you got up to examine your work, but chris had the opposing idea. keeping you down on his lap with his grip only tightening.

"chris, i gotta check your hair." you said, the comb and scissors still in hand. he just looked up at you with wide eyes before giving you a soft smile. "you look pretty." he said through a soft voice.

all you could do was copy his facial expression, a warm smile was retuned as your hips were let free and you got up momentarily after. your body was removed from chris' immediate eyesight as his own face was shown in the mirror. his hair trimmed down about an inch and a half and it was much cleaner.

you walked around chris in his chair, checking for any loose hairs you may have missed. only to find none. "looks good, ma." chris finally said as he looked at himself in the large mirror. "i'm glad you like it." you said softly, placing your scissors and comb down. rinsing your hands from any excess hairs that may have fallen onto them.

"lemme pay you back." he stated, getting up from the lawn chair and folding it back to how it was, throwing it up against the wall to put back in the garage later. you turned the water off, drying your hands on the towel on the counter. "no, chris. this wasn't meant to be paid."

chris rolled his eyes with a scoff. "please, ma. i feel bad knowing you did all this and i didn't pay you back." he said, walking towards you. your back was pressed up against the counter as chris caged you in with his hips, hands dancing their way up towards your waist and back down to your thighs.

your body shivered from the contact between your skin and his, the coolness of his bracelet finding your skin again. his and your eyes locked, entranced in one another. chris locked his bottom lip in with his teeth as an idea sparked into his head.

"y'know," he started, "the payment doesn't have to be in cash." he muttered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. "what do you mean?" you asked, voice shivering a little at the thought of what chris could potentially say.

his lips were brought to your ear, leaving a small peck on your earlobe. he started to whisper, the breathe that fell from his lips was short and sweet. "let me make you feel good as payment, yeah?"

your body immediately reacted to his words, shivering in his hold. chris' hands only moved up and down your waist and hips slower now. the contact made your lips part in a soft whine. "okay." you said, your big eyes looking up at him with desire and lust.

before another word was spoken into the air between the two, chris crashed his lips onto yours, grabbing your face into his hands. he immediately pulled you onto his waist and walked with you in his arms towards his bed out of his bathroom.

your back hit his mattress as the heated kiss turned dirty. teeth clashing with one another as you moaned into his mouth. chris' tongue darted in and out of your mouth, tasting every last inch of you. "god, ma." his hands moved up towards your tank top, tugging at the strap.

"been needing you for s' long." he muttered through kisses on your neck and collarbone. with one swift movement he tugged at your shorts and his eyes darted up towards your half lidded ones, pleading for consent before going any further.

a soft nod was given as you saw was chris was asking of you, your head falling back onto his pillow. his hands moved in quick but meaningful movements. tugging your shorts down as he threw them elsewhere in his room. not caring about where they ended up. the only thing on his mind was paying you back for the favor you did for him.

your hips bucked up towards chris' mouth as he got teasingly close towards your already drenched pussy. the black lacy panties pooled with your heated wetness and chris only groaned at the sight.

"fuckin' soaked." he mumbled under his breath. pressing his two middle fingers to your heat. his pink lips, swollen from the intense make out a minute or two prior, planted small kisses around your inner thighs.

his hands gripped tightly at your thighs and hips, keeping you in place for him as he placed his mouth directly in front of your entrance. chris' fingers only moved your panties to the side slowly, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. "please, chris." you whined. your fingers finding themselves tangled into chris' freshly cut hair.

without another word chris' mouth pecked a kiss onto your soaking cunt. a moan leaving your throat.

his tongue darted into you, moans and whines enjoyed from the back of your throat and into the room. music from the bathroom only continued to play as you had forgotten to turn it off.

your hands gripped at chris' hair tightly as he continued to work his mouth on your cunt, "taste so fuckin' good." he muttered as moans and grunts leaving his lips as well. the sounds and vibrations from his mouth onto you sending waves of pleasure through your body.

butterflies filled your stomach. this was the best way to get paid. chris kept going, only stopped to whisper praises or leave a kiss onto your thighs.

"god, chris. i'm s' close." the words left your mouth with struggle. his mouth fucking you dumb. chris continued to work his tongue in and out of your pussy, keeping your legs spread wide for him. he ate you out as if he had been starved for days. absolutely drunk on your pussy.

as you looked down the only thing you saw was the top of chris' head in between your thighs. the grip you held onto his hair only grew tighter as you reached the edge. his tongue leaving your soaked wet cunt and he immediately put two fingers inside of you. "yeah? gonna cum all over my fingers, huh?" the words left his tongue smoothly, praising you in a degrading way.

"c'mon pretty, cum all over my fingers." with those words you finally finished all over his two middle fingers. release coursing through your veins as chris planted soft kisses to your neck and forehead. sweat fell from your forehead and on your temples. chris whispering sweet little nothings into your ear.

"good girl."

"did i pay you back well?" he asked, even though you were still trying to catch up with your breathing as you nodded a soft nod for yes. chris chuckled before getting off the bed, running over to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you just made.

#⋆˚࿔ 𝐌𝐄𝐋’𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #© mr wrinkleton #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

101 notes · View notes