#he's gonna accidently shoot someone... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stunie · 3 months ago

Text

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

1K notes · View notes

saeist · 5 months ago

Text

a/n: another ua student!touya ft. hawks and mirko as his classmates!! + basing this "long eyelashes" debacle from the fact his eyelids are a little thicker than todoroki's + it's canon that he has long lower eyelashes since it's prominent when he was young lol

"i'm jealous"

you casually drop a bomb on touya, who was currently in the kitchen eating piping hot udon.

touya's eyes widens, ultimately choking on his food. like you just didn't witness him knocking on death's door, you casually slid to the seat next to him, watching him just choke there

"being jealous is one thing, but not helping your poor boyfriend who's choking? that's a little overkill don't you think?!" touya exclaims, after regaining his own composure

instead of answering, you shrug, staring at the now pouting boy beside you

"i'm not a mind reader you know?" touya points out, catching your gaze. it's making him a little uncomfortable being put on the spot like this. last time he checked, he didn't even look at another girls direction! so what could have made you jealous?

"..."

the way you were just staring at him in silence is making him uneasy. it's almost like you were making him admit to something he didn't even do

touya racks his brain for any close encounter he had with any female today during class. maybe he accidentally brushed hands with a classmate earlier today, maybe he bumped shoulders with a third year student back at lunch rush, maybe he made eye contact with another girl for a split second on accident when he was scanning the hallways for you

his mind ends up dating back at lunch where you two were having lunch with your two other friends being keigo and rumi

wait a second.. could it be rumi?

"is it rumi? but i thought you two were best friends so you were cool with us messing around with chicken little back there at the cafeteria? if it is rumi then i'll try not to interact with her that much if it makes you jealous, i'm sorry, doll. forgive me" touya rambles, suddenly getting on his knees and bowing down to (almost) kiss your feet

your eyebrows shot up at the mention of your best friend

"what are you rambling about? of course not! i'm not jealous over her, dummy" you finally break your silence. "i'm talking about your eyelashes"

touya's eyes widened once again. he slowly rises from your feet to shoot you a dirty look. did you really just make him kneel and kiss your feet over the thought of you being jealous over someone else when you were just jealous of his eyelashes all along?

"run that by me one more time?" touya puts his hands on his hips

you let out a fit of giggles watching his now irritated face.

"i'm jealous of your long eyelashes, touya" you grin, standing up to reach his face, cupping his cheeks as you run your thumb against his eyes

touya's eyes flutters shut, letting you touch his face this up close and personal. he won't admit it out loud but it tickles when your thumbs run through his long lower lashes

but the way his face scrunches says otherwise

"it tickles, doesn't it?" you giggle

"no? who said that?" touya denies, turning his head away to hide the impending blush that's rapidly spreading across his cheek

you can feel the cuteness aggression rushing in. you turn his head to force him to look at you. you squeeze his cheeks as you lean in until..

"if you're gonna suck faces could you guys at least do it in the privacy of your dorm rooms? ever heard of that?" keigo casually walks in with rumi on tow

"yuck" rumi gags, skipping past the two of you to get a carrot from the fridge

"i suggest you two get the fuck out of here unless you want roasted chicken and rabbit for dinner" touya growls, (softly) prying your hands off his face as he glares at his two best friends who were now running away while laughing

"so, doll.. where were we?" touya smiles softly, acting like he didn't just threaten his friends just a second ago

969 notes · View notes

briseroyawritingsblog · 13 days ago

Text

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. this is based in 2051, living in the future, kissing, new feelings (reader & Lo), alcohol consumption, protected sex, riding, missionary, fluff, etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

diver by @anitalenia 🤍

There was hardly any difference between humans and robots. In fact, humans were scared to go out in sheer daylight. The government– used humans brains to make robots be it for work, or different things like soldiers. DNA was stolen, and given away for experiments. Human kind was slowly enslaved the end of the world was approaching. So you were born.. your brain was made mostly out of wires but you looked like a human. Your body temperature was warm just like human. Your hair was thick and long and you were aware that you were alive. You were programmed to work for people who would hire you. You completed basic tasks like cooking, cleaning and babysitting children. You were a perfect example of a housewife— you were made to do these things. Of course instead of having a human heart and brain you had adamantium in you. Your eyes were different they were pitch black sclera. You had a dainty very womanly hands– nails painted in purple. Your lips were glossy, your white pearly teeth shined like diamonds. Your cheeks looked like they were blushing. You had so many skills, you loved being you. Everything about you was amazing.. even the strength you possessed. Your features resembled a young female, maybe in her early twenties. Before you left for work, you packed a suitcase. Set of uniforms and you were given clothes.

“She’s all yours. Your contract ends in two months.” The man who brought you to your new place, shook hands with someone named Logan and left you. Logan grabbed the envelope and turned you on, by touching your hand. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled softly– eyelashes so big they were touching your eyelids.

“Hi” you greeted him.

“Hi..” he mumbled back observing you. His eyes taking in your beauty.

“What can I do for you.” You looked around the apartment, slowly walking to the window.

“I don’t know.. you tell me.” He sighed softly pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Your brain automatically told you that drinking is hazardous.

“Well..I can start by cleaning for you. Where should I begin?” You cheered scanning the apartment grabbing the clothes from the sofa.

“If that’s what you want..” His words trailed off slowly, gazing at your every move. You cleaned so well.. by seconds you were washing the dishes. The next moment you were folding his laundry, the next moment you dusted in the living room.

“Well.. you’re fuckin’ made for this kid” he opened the annual you came with. Things were written down how to control you– and how to turn you off and charge you during the nights.

“I didn’t know you require to sleep.” A slight wonder painted his features.

“I do Sir. Full eight hours.” You responded wiping down the counter, moving onto the bathroom to clean.

“No wait.. ugh” Logan was about to stop you but you already started to spray the surfaces and wiping everything down.

“You didn’t have to clean up here too..” taking in your appearance again he noticed how swiftly you handled everything. The sink was covered in blood, he had a little shooting accident and forgot to clean up. His whole apartment was a mess and now it was sparkling clean.

Leaning in the bathroom doorway with the annual book in his hand, reading about rules and resets. Blinking you stopped observing the tiles, stepping inside the bathtub you scrubbed them clean.

“Yeah.. c’on kid you don’t have to do that” slight nervousness washed over his features as he watched you.

“Sir. I’m programmed to complete everything once I start cleaning it.” You responded and he rolled his eyes.

“Knock yourself out. I’m gonna hit the bar” shrugging he threw the annual on the couch and grabbed his jacket.

“Have a nice time sir!” You cheered again.

By the time he returned you had the floors polished too, every corner of his apartment sparkly clean. His bedsheets ironed, the guest room prepared for your stay. Currently you were cooking dinner– you didn’t know what he liked but you did throw out two pizza boxes so you knew the kitchen was not really used for cooking. Having an excellent sense of smell, was one of your characteristics just like humans had. You were not able to taste the food yourself but you made sure it’s very well seasoned. Did you had the groceries delivered to you? Yes you did. Hearing the key lock you straightened your apron and walked to the door to greet him but you were only greeted with a growl. “What is the matter?” You asked, your system telling you that he is injured all over the chest. “Sir!” You followed him to the bathroom watching him stand over the sink removing his jacket finding out the red liquid littered all over his chest was something called ‘blood’ hearing him growl in pain using his strength to push out the bullets which fell into the sink you touched his shoulder. “Can I give you assistance sir?” You asked him, seeing his demeanour shift features softening. “Take a seat” running your hands over the cabinets using your special feature to locate the first aid kit you heard him sink into the couch with a painful sigh.

“Hey kid.. I’m healing alright? It’s not needed.” Putting the first aid kit down you approached him again sitting down next to him zooming in onto his chest seeing the little wounds heal away. Zooming back out you suggested to have dinner.

He shook his head. “I just wanna fuckin sleep. How about later?” You were not able to tell but you felt some kind of different emotion cloud your system. It was different– usually you were not able to tell what you felt but today it felt like sadness. “Of course Sir.” You returned back to kitchen– it was bizarre that you even felt something. After Logan napped, you were sitting next to him waiting patiently. Even though it was after midnight– seeing him wake up you greeted him

“Can I make you a cup of coffee Sir?” Logan sat up eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you awake? I thought you needed your eight hours of sleep?” Your features resembled a small smile

“You didn’t put me to sleep Sir…”. Grabbing the annual in his hand again turning the pages quickly he groaned. “I haven’t finished reading this.. look I’m sorry. I will do better” your system was telling you he felt regret. It was amazing you were able to recognise his human feelings but you weren’t nearby ready to feel something yourself it was surprising “It’s totally okay sir.” Making him a cup of coffee while he read the annual he sipped on it. He looked so focused, as he turned to the next page— he stopped. The page was pink with hearts all over it.

“Love mode?” He raised a brow giving you a look you didn’t manage to recognise. But it was between surprised and confused for sure.

“I didn’t quite get that Sir? Most of the robots like myself.. do have love mode.” Tilting your head to take a peek at the page he closed the book.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to activate it.” He responded taking a sip of his coffee.

“Why not Sir? It’s completely safe.” You smile at him.

“I will try my hardest to satisfy your needs.”

“Oh really? My needs?”

You nodded “Of course.”

“Did anyone ever used it on you?” Curiosity rose in his voice. Your response was simple

“No Sir. I am mostly used for cooking, cleaning, and household work…I’m excellent with children.”

Logan raised a brow again “Pretty little thing like you? Just— ugh I’m sorry..” he trailed off.

A smile rose to your cheeks “Yes Sir. That’s what I’m made for” the answer alone was fair enough but he let out a soft sigh. “Right– let’s get you to sleep” offering his hand you gladly took it. It was amazing that your body temperature automatically resembled his the moment of contact. You were something extraordinary– both walking to the guest room you grabbed your pyjama. “Just a moment.” He cleared his throat turning away from you whilst you changed your uniform throwing the worn clothes in the laundry basket. Logan did take a peek at your body, human… goddamn you were all human— the curves of your body were inviting even your naked butt was nothing compared to robots. Pulling out a wire from the back of your neck turning around to face him. “I’m ready Sir. Is there anything I can do for you before resting?” Logan shook his head slowly. “No.. thank you..” he stepped closer to you. Your system was reading his face and there was softness in his expression. Maybe a hint of lust. “Sir did you look at me whilst I changed?” Logan felt embarrassment heat in his face. “I did.” You smiled. “Would you wish to turn on the love mode?” He groaned at your question. “No, I promise you I won’t touch you” he stood his ground. Nodding softly you rested yourself on the bed. Closing your eyes as he set your body to charge. —

Walking to the kitchen stretching his arms he saw how clean it was. Opening the cabinets were stocked— “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, refrigerator was full too. Meals prepared, labelled, and even dates written on them. “Did she mealprepped too?” Asking himself reading through the labels. The meals looked very nutritious, very healthy. Looking at the door he had beers stocked alphabetically, even sodas too. Everything set by colour and flavour. Closing his eyes he sighed softly. How could he even live like this for the next two months? And after what? He’d have to rent someone again? Natural struggles like this. Maybe you were to teach him how to live like a human being. The moment in the guest room repeated at the back of his mind, how could he be attracted to a female robot. A machine with no feelings? Was there something wrong with him? He was telling himself that he’s an idiot. Mentally stabbing himself with his claws. Closing the refrigerator after grabbing himself a beer and the opening drawers. The utensils shined, the plates too. The dishwasher was empty and everything neatly put away. He felt satisfied but also..felt bad. He wanted to do this stuff too.. have a proper home. He missed having someone doing it for him maybe having dinners with someone. Charles used to tell him to give this ‘home’ a chance. But how could he? Every love of his life was now deceased. Everyone was just gone— perhaps you could make it all go away. Maybe he was losing his mind after all… he had nothing to lose anymore.

Switching off the lights he sat on the couch again opening the annual. What was love mode?

It peaked his interests, how could possibly a robot satisfy someone? As he read further his eyes widened. Love mode allows the synth, replicate human emotions, such as touch, feelings, desires and needs– it was possible? Leaning to his right he gazed to the guest room seeing you asleep on the bed. Pushing the thoughts away, he gulped on his beer before switching on the flat screen. The news were on, and it was possible to purchase a robot too. If the two month contract would end.. he’d have to hire someone new again or rehire you again. And again, and again. Maybe purchasing you and owning you would be a better idea.. giving you a home. You were constantly rehired and brought to different homes. Like this you could stay with him until the end of time—

Days were long, Logan worked during the week and you were mostly at his apartment making sure everything is clean. You’d take his mail, pick up his calls. Standing by the window seeing the advertisements of your face on the buildings— you were getting warnings that the weather might get even worse. So you decided to call Logan

“Sir, the weather is-” you started and Logan sighed.

“I don’t have time to pick up your calls. It’s just a storm, do not call me to work.”

“But Sir” the line got dead and your system told you he disconnected the line.

Taking an umbrella you left his apartment. Wearing one of his jackets and a hood over your head. You were immune to water or rain it didn’t matter you were allowed to go outside but not alone. Calculating the location of his workplace, you walked until you reached his office. Telling the receptionist you were to see Logan she directed you to his office.

“What are you doing here?” Alarming look on his face told you that he was nothing but worried.

“Umbrella. You needed one Sir– I am programmed to keep you safe and attend all of your needs.” Logan furrowed his eyebrows together feeling his heart skip a beat. Your black eyes lowered to his pulse you could read his heart rate. It was picking up spiking higher than usual. “Sir.. are you alright?” He nodded slowly. He never had someone take care of him or worry for him. Emotions— he felt so many being in your presence and god you would never know how he really felt. Would you?

“Stay here. I have one more meeting and then we can go home.” He told you motioning you to sit down at his office chair and you did as he wished. After a long day and a drive home in complete silence you didn’t make an eye contact with him. You couldn’t read any of his emotions anymore— as if he built this indestructible wall around his feelings protecting himself…after you both entered his apartment he told you he needed a shower.

“Would you like me to warm some dinner for you sir?” You suggested and he nodded “Yes. You can leave it on the table, and brew me some coffee please I will work in my home office.” You nodded. “The coffee is freshly brewed and sweetened sir.” Straightening your ironed apron you warmed up his dinner and did everything he wanted. Hearing the shower running and seeing the door is partly open you wondered how it felt standing beneath warm cascading water. Humans.. they were complex weren’t they?

Standing straight by the kitchen counter you replayed the memories of your first meeting with Mr Howlett. Until he walked out the bathroom having a towel around his waist. You followed after him.

“Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Upon entering you saw him dry his hair.

“Can I help you dress?”

“No, kid. You’re doing way too much around here.”

“Sir.”

“Can I pick fresh pyjamas for you? I ironed them.”

“Knock yourself out, princess”

“But first can I dry you off, there’s water dripping off your body”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” He groaned softly. Oh he wanted it; he wanted you close. He wanted you to dress him, feed him, and be his little housewife. It has been four weeks and he couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Sir? Would you like me to turn on the love mode for you?”

You asked taking a new towel to pat dry his chest.

“Yes.”

— Love mode activated. —

“Please pick percentage for my feelings for you sir” as you dried off his body, logan wondered if this was a good decision.

“75%”

Your system programmed your feelings to 75% percent to his wish.

“Choose the percentage for my affection for you sir”

“80%”

Logan watched you slowly dry every drop off his chest gracefully holding that towel.

“Choose the percentage for my lust sir”

“90%”

“You’ve successfully activated your love mode. It has been saved and now you can use me to satisfy your needs” as you said those words Logan watched your face changing. Your lips got glossier, your cheeks reddened and your eyes hooded. That’s how it worked.. you became even more beautiful, maybe in a sexiest ways possible. So alluring.. so inviting no man could ever refuse you

Logan cupped your cheek. You dropped the towel, your own hands started to wander over his naked chest exploring his toned abdomen. Pushing him on the bed slowly so he landed on his back you climbed on top of him. Opening his towel. Your fingers touching his erection, slowly. Thumb circling the pink swollen tip. “Do we have protection sir?” Logan nodded. “Yeah.. I do” his breathing hitched as you cupped his growing aching cock. Reaching in his bedside table he pulled protection, a condom. You let out a small moan as you started to roll the condom over his cock. He watched you— you became so different with the love mode and his desire for you was deepening. He couldn’t hide it, you were everything that he ever wanted. Taking care of him so well. “Take it off..” he whispered eyes hooded with lust. Undoing your apron, then your maid dress your naked body was revealed to him. Your pussy looked so small. He tested your folds and you closed your eyes releasing a soft moan. “You were made for this weren’t you princess? Your pussy is moist. How can that even happen” he breathed sliding a finger between your folds. “Fuck..” he cursed eyes glued to your perky breasts. God your nipples were hardened, and peaked so beautifully. Just like an ordinary female “I was made for you Sir..” you lustfully breathed but before you sank down on his protected cock he flipped you over so he was on top of you. “Please Sir.. use me. I can make it all go away.. I’m yours” you spoke softly observing his protected cock. Logan lowered himself on top of you completely, your hands caressed the small of his back as he slowly found your perfect pussy and inserted his cock right inside of you.

— Love overdrive —

“Mmmm!” Your cute little moan was everything that he ever wanted to her before he snapped his hips into you. Your little whimpers and moans only spurred him on “needy little thing aren’t you bub? love mode? you were made for this cock” you nodded rapidly sliding your arms around him and your thighs around his hips. “Yes sir, made for you and your cock” repeating his words your glossy lips remained parted and moans flowing out. Your pussy is being filled and repeatedly and you never experienced love mode. It was your first time. The creamy substance which coated his protected cock was your own lubrication even though you were created only to satisfy his needs, you felt like a human. “Kiss me..” holding the back of his hair as he nuzzled his face between your breasts harshly breathing he slid his large arm behind your neck slightly prodding you up towards his lips. His mouth connected to yours in a soft kiss and you closed your eyes at the experience, clinging your whole body around him. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip and your moans only increased in volume clouding his mind making him love struck. His heartbeat spiked, as he needily rolled his hips against yours putting all of his cock in and you barely withdrawing and moving back in again. Your system was pink, your vision was pink the whole while as you made love. “I love you Sir..” you mumbled against his lips and Logan growled out “You love me huh? Perfect little thing, but fuck I love you too” he watched your perfect breasts bounce to his thrusts until he flipped you right back. You were on top of him his cock buried right inside of you. Your small hands lying flat on his chest, biting your lower lip you started to bounce on his cock. Throwing your head back, your long wavy curls covering your back and logan seized your waist in his large palms exploring your breasts listening to your moans and whimpers as you took all of his length. “Shit.. I- fuck.. I’m gonna..” he gasped for breath as you rose up and down his length making sure you nestled him right in you, your hips picked up the speed as you bounced faster letting him grope your breasts letting out the loudest growls you have ever heard. Those growls were followed by soft moans as he halted your hips bucking up into you reaching his high letting out a breathless whimper. “Fuck.. ughhhh..” you cooed cupping his cheeks leaning down to give him a soft kiss and he responded softly. Sliding out of you slowly he rolled on top of you planting soft kisses on your glossy lips and you watched him dispose the use condom. You were so much at all at once that he couldn’t last as long as he planned with you. “Would you like me to switch off the love mode, sir?” Logan shook his head slowly. “No.. please.” A smile greeted your face and your hands entwined, your fingers joining. “Would you like me to run you a bath sir?” You asked him gazing up at him. “I’m exhausted..” he whispered. Noticing how your expression changed again, it was back to normal yet that hint of love remained. “Sleep Sir..” you kissed his lips watching him then roll over to the empty side immediately passing out. It was only natural that men needed sleep after sex, and you understood that so you left his bed and collected your clothes. After cleaning up in the bathroom like a woman supposed to do, your system was telling you to do it. With a damp cloth— then you changed into your pyjama getting your needed rest too charging up for the next day. Your memory replayed before sleeping, it was more then satisfying.

for both of you.

this is complete work of fiction, any mistakes typos I apologise in advance.

398 notes · View notes

seaslugfanclub · 8 months ago

Note

bestie, beloved mutual, Neptune, I have for real been getting hit on at work by creepy older men and sometimes women multiple times a day, so I was wondering if you could do the more romantically inclined villains witnessing y/n having to deal with several of these people within a short amount of time? You could do any writing style that comes to mind, this is just my way of coping :D ily!!(platonic)

{if this is out of your comfort zone, please message me and kill me :)}

Omg I am so sorry you have to deal with that, as someone who’s had the same experience, I totally understand your frustration. Hang in there pookie ❤️

Villains reaction to (Y/N) being creeped on

TW: old man being creepy/harassment (stay safe everyone)

—————————————

During their time at Disney Parks, the Villain’s realized they aren’t the most evil people there

There was this older park attendant working in the same branch as (Y/N) and of course, in typical creep fashion he. would. not. leave. (Y/N). alone.

When they clock in for work “Good Morning (Y/N), I was thinking about you last night.”

During (Y/N)’s lunch break, he’d try to sit across from them. “I saw some kid spill her drink all over you, I have an extra shirt in my locker if you’d like to come with me and get it.”

God, even when they’re both supervising interactions with the Villains “I noticed that new Mickey Mouse pin on your chest, I should call you ‘my little Disney girl’”

All of this was enough for the Villains to notice, and if they’re existence wasn’t dependent on Disney, they would’ve flayed this guy the moment he made eye contact with (Y/N)

Each Villain has seen at least one instance of (Y/N)’s coworker hitting on them, and they all have their own idea of how to deal with the creep

Hades wants to tie the creep to the top of the magic castle and let the seagulls eat his liver

Maleficent is shining up her collection of medieval torture devices

Frollo wants him flogged

Facilier is currently sewing up a voodoo doll, all he needs is some of the old man’s hair

Scar is scheming ways to make his hyenas mauling the man look like an accident

Clayton, Gaston, and Sykes just want to shoot the guy

But for now everyone makes sure that (Y/N) isn’t alone with the guy, something (Y/N) appreciates more than anything

When (Y/N) come teary eyed to the Villains, you know damn well they’re gonna be treated like royalty.

Hook cooks the their favorite meal as Hades brings his best jokes to take their mind off being harassed

Cruella actually understands what (Y/N)s going through, having been a female in the male dominated fashion industry during the 50’s

“Chin up now dear, don’t let some man-thing get to you. Heavens know I had my fare share of degenerates when I started out my illustrious career!”

Even though they can’t physically touch the creep, it’s not a surprise that the man eventually disappeared quit

Something about a series of unfortunate circumstances that coincidentally happed in progression that lead him to have a mental breakdown and leave on short notice

When news of the creeps resignation, all the villains were like:

There are only two reasons the Villains could get along. 1. It’s for (Y/N) 2. The destruction of someone’s life.

(Y/N) has scary dog privileges, but the scary dogs are middle aged magicians

—————————————

Hope you enjoyed! Try not to let those old creeps get you down, they’re miserable folks who don’t deserve the time of day! (And for real a man called me his ‘little Disney girl’ when he noticed my Disney pin…. I’m 20..)

#disney villains #self insert #disney imagine #disney x reader #disney hades #captain hook #dr facilier #claude frollo #malificent #cruella de vil

583 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 10 months ago

Text

Seat Belts Save Lives

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You and your brothers get into a car accident, and Dean blames himself.

“Would you put your seatbelt on?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s demand and ignored him.

“You know that’s not safe.”

“Eh, leave her be Sammy,” Dean cut in. “We’ve got a long drive, if she wants to lay out back there let her. She should get some sleep anyway.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at Sam as you made yourself comfortable in the back.

“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, reaching for the radio.

“Excuse me?” Dean scoffed as he slapped Sam’s hand away. “You don’t get to change my station, you know the rules, Sammy.”

“They’ve played the same song four times in a row, Dean. I figured you didn’t notice, so I’d give you a hand.”

“I noticed,” Dean said defensively. “I like this song.”

“So did I,” Sam huffed. “But that was before—Dean, watch out! Hey—“

Sam reached over to jerk the steering wheel, but it was too late. The car that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere—on the wrong side of the road—slammed into the side of the Impala. You felt your body leave the seat, your head slamming into the back of Dean’s seat.

And then it all went black.

You awoke to the sound of Dean calling your name. Your head felt heavy, your ears were ringing, and the world seemed fuzzy for a few minutes before your head cleared. Once it did, you wished it didn’t.

Your head was pounding, and slick, sticky red was oozing out of a cut on your leg and your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when you craned your neck painfully you saw why. Along with the bleeding cuts, your wrist was twisted at a strange angle, and the Impala’s door was dented in, pinning you down so that you couldn’t even feel your legs, much less move them.

“Y/N.” You could hear the sigh of relief in Sam’s voice, coming from near your head. “Dean, her eyes are open.”

“Ok baby.” Dean’s voice came from down by your feet, on the right side of the car. “I’m gonna lift the door up, and Sammy’s gonna pull you out. I need you to brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.”

“Ok,” you whimpered, your hands beginning to shake.

“Alright, I’ve got her,” Sam told Dean, grabbing hold of you under your arms and preparing to pull you out.

“Alright. One…two…” Dean grunted at three as he lifted the door. The change in pressure sent pain shooting up your legs, and you screamed as Sam pulled you free of the car.

“I know, I know honey.” Sam collapsed in the dirt next to the Impala, hugging you to his chest as you cried. “It’s over.”

The pain refused to subside, and within seconds you gave into the dark that overtook your vision.

…

“She’s unconscious,” Sam said as Dean knelt next to his two younger siblings.

“The ambulance is on the way.”

“Dean, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“She’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “She’s gonna be just fine.”

…

“Is she ok? What’s going on in there?”

“She’s still unconscious,” the nurse told Sam. “We’ve finished stitching her wounds, and we’re prepping for a blood transfusion, but her blood type is hard to find.”

“Me, use me,” Dean spoke up. “We have the same type.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood, too,” The nurse responded. “We can’t risk—“

“I don’t care about the risk!” Dean barked. “Use my blood!”

“I—um…” the nurse seemed unsure how to respond. “Let me talk to the doctor.”

As soon as she was gone, Sam turned to his big brother. “Dean, you shouldn’t—“

“I have to. She could die, do you get that? I have to do this.”

“They can find someone else, I’m sure—“

“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean sighed.

Sam was angry. “Don’t get it? What could I possibly not get about this, Dean?”

Dean was silent for a long moment before he spoke.

“I told her not to wear her seat belt.”

…

You awoke to an annoying beeping to your right, and a sharp antiseptic smell hanging in the air. You blinked your eyes open, trying to adjust to the too-bright lights. Once you had, you caught sight of Sam sleeping in a chair to your right. You turned to the other side to see Dean sitting at an uncomfortable angle in an even more uncomfortable chair, his head drooping and your hand clutched in his.

When you squeezed his hand, his head popped up.

“Hey baby,” he breathed, a grin splitting his face. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts.” You were used to ‘sucking it up’ as Sam and Dean did, saying you were fine as long as nothing was broken. But you didn’t have the energy to lie right now; it hurt, and all you wanted was your big brother to baby you and make it feel better.

“I’m sorry.” Dean reached up his free hand and brushed your hair away from your face. “Baby I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “That guy came out of nowhere.”

Dean was about to respond, but stopped when Sam started to stir.

“Hey,” Sam grinned when he saw you awake. “You ok?”

“Been better.” You smiled weakly.

“The doc said you two can leave tomorrow,” Sam said.

“The two of us?” Your eyes turned back to Dean. “You’re hurt?”

“He didn’t get hurt that bad in the crash,” Sam interjected before Dean could speak. “But he lost some blood, and then he gave you some. Docs say he needs bed rest.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Dean scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“You gave blood after getting injured? Dean, are you nuts?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got rare blood.” Dean tried to deflect with a joking smile.

“Dean.” You remained serious.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “You needed blood, I gave you some blood, it’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t just—“

“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” Dean insisted. “We’re all ok. That’s all that matters. Now get some rest, ok?”

You said nothing, and Dean’s words made you finally realize just how tired you felt.

Sam leaned over and kissed your head before leaning back in his chair, but Dean stayed right next to you, your hand gripped in his. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into sleep, but just before you gave in to your exhaustion, you heard Dean whisper to you—

“I’m sorry. I’m never gonna let anything like this happen again.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

785 notes · View notes

yourdarlingalina · 10 months ago

Text

is it new years yet? | jack hughes

synopsis: y/n's new years kiss is the last person she expected, her former fuck buddy pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: slightly steamy, heavy making out, mentions of sex, a bit angsty, not properly proofread is it new years yet? - sabrina carpenter

What's the best way to forget about your fuck buddy who broke things off with you a week before Christmas? Who you definitely don't have feelings for and who definitely didn't find out about said feelings by accident?

From a responsible person's point of view, it was the correct decision. I fell for someone who just wanted no strings attached sex. He doesn't want a relationship, and it is supposed to save me from being hurt even worse in the future. But I am not a responsible person. A responsible person wouldn't have been talking about their feelings with friends when they knew that the person they had feelings for was also in the same bar.

Which is how I ended up in my current situation. A glass of champagne in one hand while the other holds onto a random guy's shoulder as we sway and grind to the upbeat tempo blasting through the club's speakers. The best way to get over a guy is to get under a new one, right? At least, that's what my friends were telling me as they convinced me to go out with them for New Year's Eve.

"Start the new year off with someone new."

And start the new year off with someone new I will. The guy in front of me is decent looking, he's no Jack but he'd do. His hands were at least doing all the right things, one gripping my hip to pull me closer as the other was pushing my hair out of the way of my neck so that he could leave sloppy open mouthed kisses to my skin. Hands roamed down my body as I brought the champagne flute closer to my lips, this night would require copious amounts of alcohol if I am to make it to midnight. He pawed his hands down from my hips to my ass, gripping and squeezing in ways that should be making me want to push my body harder against his. His mouth trailing from my neck down to cleavage, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh.

He was doing everything right to my body, but it just didn't feel right. I wanted it to be Jack who was brave enough to handle me this way in the middle of a crowded club, not ashamed to be seen with me, but it wasn't. He made it very clear that he only wanted me in private, with no one knowing that I was his on those nights and that he was mine, even if it was only for a short time. It was like he knew my body better than I did, knew what buttons to press to make me cry out his name. How he made me come undone again and again. The kisses that gave me full body shivers and touches that left my skin feeling like it was set alight.

I was not getting those feelings with the man attached to my body. He seemed like he'd be a great lover for a night, but not in the way I needed. Perhaps if I met him before everything, I could be happy with him but it felt like I had been ruined.

A party popper would end up becoming my hero of the night when one went off right next to my ear causing the glass in my hand to tumble down, splashing champagne on the man as it made its way down to shatter on the floor.

"Oh God! I am so sorry!" I profusely apologize as the man whose name I can't quite remember jumps away from me.

"It's alright, suppose I was gonna end up sticky tonight anyway. I'll be back." He shoots me a wink as he makes off in the direction of the bathrooms. I take the brief moment to escape to the bar, being careful to not slip on the alcohol or broken glass scattering the floor.

I push past the glitter and sweat coated bodies, pushing myself into a corner where I don't think my former dance partner will find me. One of the bartenders comes over to take my drink order not long after I get into my seat.

"What can I get for you?" The man asks quickly, obviously on the verge of losing it due to the new year's rush tonight.

"She'll have a vodka cranberry and I'll have a beer." A voice says from behind me, a voice I know extremely well. I didn't know he was going to be here tonight. Not a single person thought to mention that to me? The bartender makes a move to speak but the man behind me continues, "Brand doesn't matter, just whatever you have." The bartender just nods then scurries off to get our drinks.

I slowly turn on my stool to face him.

"Jack." I say, acknowledging him.

"y/n." He says back, sending shivers down my spine with just how he says my name. He moves closer, keeping me between the counter and his body. Leaning over his body almost touches mine, he keeps his eyes on me, his face getting closer, and for just a second I think he's about to kiss me, but his fingers wrap around the beer bottle that was placed on the counter and suddenly he's back where he was originally standing. "You seem to be having fun tonight."

"You've been watching me?" I blurt out before I could think. Instead, grabbing my drink, putting it to my mouth before I could say anything else.

"Hard not to when you're basically letting whoever that was fuck you in front of everyone." He bitterly spits out. He's jealous? He's not allowed to be jealous. He doesn't want me, I got that loud and clear.

"So? Why do you care?" His eyes snap to me. "I'm not yours, I never was." I break my eyes away from his, suddenly thinking about how interesting my drink looks. He smirks at my sudden movement, his fingers grip my chin and force me to look at him. His face is so close to mine again, I can feel his breath on my face, can smell the alcohol off his lips. He's intoxicating. I clench my thighs together at the small act. Even like this he still has so much power over me. I am undoubtedly his.

His eyes flick from my eyes down to my clenched thighs to my eyes again to the countdown clock behind me and finally back to my eyes. "Thirty minutes till midnight. Meet me on the balcony upstairs in fifteen?" He's asking but it comes out as more of a command.

"Why would I do that?" I push back. I can at least hold onto a little bit of my dignity during this. Can't I? Might be debatable.

"Because I made a mistake two weeks ago." He whispers against my lips. My eyes flutter shut, he's gone when I open them.

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

Fifteen minutes went by quicker than I would've liked for them to. I still haven't made up mind on if I should talk to him or not, but my body decided that I'd still go. I slowly made my way up, giving myself more time to collect my thoughts. I hadn't talked to him properly since that night.

It was a night out after a big win, Jack had invited me and some friends to go out with him and the team. Teasing remarks were thrown at me about how I look at Jack like I was in love. I never did hide my staring well. He had noticed too, how when he looked over at me, my eyes were already on him. Adoration was obvious in my eyes when they were on him. When I got quiet and didn't make any attempt to shoot down the accusations they all got loud. "You love Jack!" They shouted over and over. My cheeks flushed, embarrassment flooded up veins, I had to get away from it.

He heard. I turned to leave the group and he was behind me, eyes wide and jaw slack in shock. He was frozen, a deer in headlights. Me whispering his name snapped him out of his daze causing him to walk off in the opposite direction. I made the mistake of going after him.

"We said no strings attached." He said after the door slammed behind me, his back still facing me.

"I know." My words came out whispered, I was terrified of this. This was never meant to happen. Feelings were never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find out that one of our few rules were broken.

"We can't continue like this." He finally turned and faced me. He showed no emotion, he was so goddamn hard to read. His blank facial expressions would be the bane of my existence.

"I know." I whispered again, the only words I could get out. I fucked up, by catching feelings, by continuing this when I knew I caught feelings. I tried to push them down and pretend that they didn't exist, but it just wasn't enough.

"I don't love you." I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears start to well up and not daring to let them have the chance of escaping. I knew how he felt, but hearing it was a completely different feeling.

"I know." I sobbed out. He was gone by the time I opened my eyes.

Here I was, yet again, going after him. I somehow made it to the top of the stairs and through the crowd of dancing bodies. There he was, standing on the balcony, leaning over the railing and looking out at the Hudson. I stood there for a good minute, just staring at him, debating on if it was even worth listening to him. Did he really make a mistake or was he just feeling guilty that he didn't reciprocate my feelings?

"What was the mistake?" I finally ask.

His head whips around so fast that I almost think that he's about to give himself whiplash. A small laugh like huff comes out as I walk further out onto the balcony.

"I almost thought you weren't gonna come." His voice is softer, careful, like he was actually scared of the thought that I wouldn't meet him. I look back at the countdown clock on the wall, ten minutes to midnight.

"I like to be fashionably late." He lets a small laugh escape at my comment. God, I love that sound.

"You always have." He turns away again, hands gripping the railing, knuckles turning white from the tension.

"You still haven't answered my question." I say, waiting for him to finally tell me what the mistake was. Was he regretting ending us or how he spoke to me?

"That night." He starts to say before cutting himself off, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Yes?" I nudge his leg with the tip of my heel. He looks at me, eyes scanning my face like he's trying to read my thoughts. Trying to get any idea of what I'm thinking.

"I lied to you." No. "I said I didn't love you." No. "I lied." No.

I should be wanting to hear this, but I don't. I never thought I'd be the type of person to run back to a man just because he gives me a pretty apology and I will not start now, especially when I know it's not true.

"You don't love me, you just miss the sex. Don't worry, you'll find someone else to suck your dick." I move to walk away before I feel this hand come up to grip my arm. He was not going to make this easy for me. All I want to do is go home and crawl under my blankets, forget that all of this even happened in the first place.

"Please, just hear me out." I turn my head to look at him and goddamn those eyes that make me want to melt. He's looking at me so sweetly, I've never seen him look at anyone like this.

"Make it quick." I brush off his hand and lean back towards the railing.

"Oh come on, you know I don't do quickies." He attempts to make a joke, a playful smile pulling on his lips. It quickly fades though as he get serious again. "I broke our rule before we even made it." My head snaps up at his words. What?

"I loved you before we slept together that first time." He can't be telling me the truth. No, our first night together was a drunken mess that was just meant to be a one night stand. The relationship that came after was just mutually beneficial, he didn't have to worry about someone running to the tabloids and I got someone who touched me in a way I didn't think was possible.

"Stop lying to me." I choke out. I don't need a pity confession from him, especially when I just want to leave him behind next year which is in, I quickly check the clock, three minutes.

"I'm not!" He counters back just as the words leave my mouth.

"If you loved me you wouldn't have reacted like that." My eyes are brimming with tears, this is not how I wanted my night to go. I just wanted to find a new guy to kiss at midnight to make me forget about Jack.

"I never thought you'd feel the same." How he could think that is astounding. I don't think he realizes just how magnetic he is, and not just because he's Jack Hughes, hockey star. No, he was much more than that. A good friend, a shoulder to lean on, someone that listens when you really need it, a respectful person who makes you feel like you're floating when his attention is on you. "I'm not good at expressing my emotions."

"Yeah, no shit!" I nearly scream at him. "What do you expect me to do with this?"

"I want to start fresh next year." He admits, his eyes lock back onto mine. "If you gave me another chance, I promise, I won't fuck it up again." He's not lying, he's being genuine. I can see it written all over his face, the softening of his eyes, the breaking down of his walls. He's having a hard time even attempting to be vulnerable about this.

The shouting from the party starts to get louder. "Ten!" Maybe I should give him another chance. "Nine!" If I get hurt again then it's on me. "Eight!" He is who I want to be with. "Seven!" Why not? Is this not what I wanted just hours ago? "Six!"

"Kiss me." I tell him.

"Five!"

"What?" He sputters out.

"Four!"

"You heard me." I say, giving him a soft smile so that he knows I truly mean it.

"Three!" He shifts his body to be parallel mine. "Two!" His hands cup my cheeks. "One!" His lips meet mine as literal fireworks go off. "Happy New Year!" People shout around us. But my mind is just on him. As he's pulling me as close as humanly possible but it's still not enough.

My hands snake up with his abdomen, fingers gripping at anything they can. His hands move to my hair, to my neck, down my chest, caressing softly down to my hips, pulling and pleading to get as close as possible. My body was being set alight, the familiar feeling I've been yearning for. He's pulling sounds out from me that I've never made before. It's from the feeling that he's fully mine now, no hesitancy in his movements, he's confident and proud in what he's doing.

My fingers move up to curl around strands of his hair, pulling his face fully flush to mine, lips melding and moving against each other at a fiery pace. We break away unfortunately to catch our breath, our smiling faces still touching, neither one of us making an attempt to move farther away. In fact, he's nuzzling his face even closer into mine, if that was even possible.

"What are you going to do with me now?" I ask against his lips, looking up into those beautiful, mind melting, ocean like eyes.

"Start the year off right, by apologizing in so many ways." He says then capturing my lips again before dragging me through the crowd of bodies, down the stairs, and out of the door.

#alina writes #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl imagine

699 notes · View notes

2btheanswertothequestion · 2 years ago

Text

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

------------------------------

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

#the entire conversation in the van - and the purpose of max's role - came to me late at night #and i was so excited i could barely sleep afterward #everything fell into place after that #steddie fic: november paramedic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #ok so about the car:#(first off i want to admit i know nothing about cars)#in the show steve drives a bmw 733i. the car is gorgeous imo. however while luxurious at the time it's not expensive today.#so i looked up modern luxury cars and found the 30 jahre m5 - the limited edition from when bmw m5 celebrated 30yrs in 2014 #only 300 got made and only 30 were sold in the us. they were as you might imagine expensive.#so the story here is that steve got one for his 16th birthday (would've been in 2015 in this fic)#probably from a doting grandparent since i doubt his parents would've given something so expensive to a teen #fun fact: every 30 jahre m5 is colored 'frozen dark silver' (gray. they're fucking gray.)#but since it's NOT steve's car if it's not burgundy and since i've already erased covid's existence... i don't think this change matters

3K notes · View notes

artbyblastweave · 2 months ago

Note

Heroify: Kingpin

Compared to some of the other characters people have sent in today this is like shooting monkeys in a barrel!

Part of the reason Fisk is such a good Daredevil villain is that he's already got a lot of the basic elements you need to make a street-level hero work- the will, the drive, the protectiveness, the territoriality, and the quote-unquote "badass normal" peak human fighting ability that, let's not fuck around here, is absolutely a superpower even if the chickenshit writers won't directly admit to that. It's just that he uses those abilities to be a crime boss rather than to fight crime bosses. To put himself in charge of his childhood bullies instead of fighting his bullies. A classic case of "If only he'd used his immense capacity for interpersonal violence for good." What would make him stand out from all the other heroes in his niche is his propensity for Empire-building, his complete inability not to build up some kind of organization from scratch, and what that impulse might look like in a superheroic context.

I'm imagining that his initial schtick is that of a Bully Hunter. After getting ripped and wiping the floor with his childhood bullies-or maybe this is one of the versions who offed his own father for beating on his Mother- he embraces the specific high of the "pick on someone your own size" routine, and he becomes The Big Man, the guy you go to when you need somebody who's been getting away with something for a while cut down to size. Upstairs neighbor is beating his wife and kid senseless, and nobody does anything because his brother's a cop? Call The Big Man. Real Estate Baron's using his connections to try to muscle out the residents of a tenement? The Big Man's gonna pay them a visit. Boss at the diner's withholding your paychecks and getting away with it because you're undocumented? You get where this is going. He usually doesn't kill people- not out of any particular code, but out of a combination of pragmatism and sadism. He's smart enough to engineer situations in a way that he can claim self-defense or frame someone's tumble down the stairs as an unfortunate accident or rely on the unexamined illegality of whatever his target was doing to prevent them from getting the police involved. He's got a bit of a financial cushion, as well, because all of this is actually his side gig- he's still a very successful, if not as cutthroat, local businessman, because hospitalizing domestic abusers doesn't pay the bills. As a power move, he does most of this under his own name- he's got a "costume" in the form of the distinct suit, and a nominal codename, but part of the bit, part of the point he's making, is that he's slightly better at weaseling out of the consequences of his actions than the people he targets. Always a bigger fish, after all. Power is relative. His thematic niche is distinct from Daredevil's abstract sense of idealized justice. It's not Frank Castles mechanical eye-for-an-eye approach. It's about the satisfaction of leaving a certain category of wrongdoer alive, so that they can remain very, very afraid.

Of course, since his entire bit is that he keeps putting untouchable assholes in fullbody casts, the attempts on his life start stacking up- First it's Ed the domestic abuser and his buddies from the bar coming around for a rematch, and then goon squads, then hand ninjas, then low-rent supervillains- and because The Big Man toes the line of being an actual superhuman, he's usually winning these things, and coming out ahead in the PR game for beating down a bunch of costumed thugs attacking his Perfectly Legitimate Art Gallery- but it's a pain that his office keeps getting firebombed. And this is where you start to reap the benefits of having done under-the-table favors for hundreds of people all over New York- The Big Man has a network now. The Big Man knows guys who knows guys, some of whom owe him favors, some of whom are just really afraid of him coming back for round two. The Big Man can pull together a hundred guys with crowbars and hammers on a day's notice, if he happens to need something like that. If he doesn't know someone with a backdoor into Tombstone's fortified penthouse or Hammerhead's mansion, if he doesn't know someone with incriminating information on Silvermane or Norman Osborn, well. He knows their cousin. And once he thinks to begin leveraging this? If the people escalating things have specific addresses, by the end of the week they very likely don't.

It's not as if he eliminates all criminal activity. He's not even interested in doing so. Like half the painting's he's selling are really convincing forgeries. But things hit a point where there's simply a hard practical limit on how imperial a supercriminal's ambitions in New York can become, how domineering, how visible to the man on the street, before The Big Man decides it's time to make a point and starts calling people, who in turn start calling people.

#thoughts #asks #meta #wilson fisk #man this one got away from me #crucial to this dynamic is that he's still on pretty bad terms with most of the other street level heroes

155 notes · View notes

hadesrise · 1 year ago

Text

heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

2K notes · View notes

raihann1 · 1 month ago

Text

PLAYING MM2 WITH THE CREEPS🔪

---------------------------------------

Feat: Jeff, Ben, Masky, Toby, Clockwork, Nina.

NINA THE KILLER

Forces you to team with her.

Uses either heartblade or classic knife.

Shares a earbud with you as you listen to Spotify while playing :)

If she dies first she'll spectate for you.

Always yapping.

Gives you free godlys ♡ (your her favorite person)

Match with her!

Definitely hates icewing users.

Does not have voicechat

HATES. HATESS SMALL AVATARS

"Bro my hitbox"

---------------------------------------

MASKY/TIM

Deadass does not know how to play.

Actually got addicted.

He's not buying you anything

Accidently broke your ipad once because he didn't know how to shoot.

Yeah no don't play with him. 💀

---------------------------------------

JEFF THE KILLER

Classic knife or icewing user.

Camper 🧍‍♂️

LOVES making little kids mad.

Will curse out kids in the loudest fucking voice.

He got banned several times

"FUCK"

"MY HITBOX BRO"

scams little kids aswell.

He gave you a chroma once and said it took 30 minutes because the girl had to ask her mom for permission 😐

Don't team, if you lose he'll blame it on you.

---------------------------------------

BEN DROWNED

Definitely a exploiter

Loves fucking up peoples games

He'll only team if he feels like letting someone else win

"EZ"

A "tryhard"

Let me spoil you bbg, with my 300+ godlys of everytype 😼

Definetly kills you when you team and blames it on your hitbox.

---------------------------------------

CLOCKWORK

FUCK

Spam jumper

Camper

definitely uses the godly "clockwork" 😐

Like jeff, absoluetly kills little childrens ears when shes screaming curse words at them.

Buys you shit when she feels like it 😼

A rager

Hates icewing users.

Yeah your gonna have to have a timeout for her.

---------------------------------------

TICCI TOBY

Is the most lagggiest fuckjng player ever.

Lagged so much he cant even load in the game 🙁

Definitely uses traderie because he wanted to find a knife that looked like his hatchets

Will absolutely have the most terridying mood swings.

Almost broke your computer.

"GET OUT!"

oh, he'll definitely match :)

Hes broke tho.

---------------------------------------

111 notes · View notes

mochiwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Taking a quick glance at the time, Grian checks over their apartment once more. The banner and streamers have all been put up in the kitchen, the cake is neatly presented on the table, Jellie is in her cat tree like the princess she is. Perfect. Grian nods to himself with a satisfied smile before heading over to the couch and sitting down. He’s been going crazy all morning trying to prepare something for Scar’s birthday, sending the man out on pointless errands just to take up his time.

Honestly, Grian is quite proud of himself that he managed to get this all set up on his own and without any accidents.

His boyfriend only deserves the best, after all. And Grian is willing to do whatever he can to provide just that, come hell or high water.

The doorknob jiggles a few seconds later, before the door itself opens. “Grian! I’m home!” Right on time.

Grian tries to look as casual as he can on the couch as Scar comes in, four bags in his hands. He shoots the man a smile, “Hey! How’d it go?”

“I think I found everything on the list you gave me,” Scar hums, glancing down at the bags. He walks into the kitchen, too focused on the bags to notice the banner and streamers. “I got the cat food for Jellie, a nice jar of golden carrots — which before you say anything I bartered for a lower price.”

Grian can hear the smugness in Scar’s voice, making him chuckle, “Only you, Scar. Only you.”

“That’s a compliment, thank you!” Scar sets the bags down on the table, and Grian waits with excited anticipation for him to notice the cake. “The only thing I wasn’t able to find was the imagineer cat plush? Honestly G I didn’t even know where to—”

His voice suddenly stops, and Grian takes that as his cue to join Scar in the kitchen. He finds the other staring at the cake on the table, along with the very plush he had just been talking about. Grian wears a large grin on his face as he comes over, patting the plush’s head, “Don’t worry about that one. I managed to find it.”

Scar’s head snaps to him, green eyes carrying shock and disbelief, “G?”

Grian walks over to him, moving to wrap his arms around his shoulders. “I know it’s not much but… I wanted to do something for your birthday. Even if it’s a few days late because someone didn’t think to tell me.” He playfully pinches the back of Scar’s neck.

“Oh,” Scar answers, still looking shocked. He sets his hands on Grian’s waist as his eyes trail over to the cake and cat plush on the table. “Oh Grian,” he mumbles, in awe. “This is amayzin’!”

His words pull a laugh from Grian, all light and fond. “It better be, I spent all morning getting everything set up,” he teases.

Scar turns his bright, excited eyes to Grian before leaning in to press their lips together. “I love it. Thank you.”

Grian smiles in return, chest warm with pride at the happiness in Scar’s expression. “You’re welcome. Now c’mon, this cake isn’t gonna eat itself!” He reaches for Scar’s hand, tugging on it as he leads him over to the plate he’s set out.

Happy to be tugged along, Scar follows his boyfriend the few steps it takes them to the cake. It’s decorated with orange icing, the words Happy Birthday Scar! written in cyan icing. The little cat plush Grian had mentioned sits next to it, wearing a vest and a hard hat, a rolled up paper attached to its paw. Scar picks it up, looking at it with adoration. He takes in the decorations around, the orange streamers and green banner with a birthday message on it.

If Scar had known this is what was going to be awaiting him when he told Grian his birthday, he would’ve caved much sooner.

He watches as Grian grabs two plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake from the drawer and cabinet, mouth moving as he speaks. Scar doesn’t quite catch what he’s saying, too stuck in his own thoughts.

Void, he loves this man more than anything in the world. Grian went through all this effort for him, even if his birthday has passed. But he did it because he thought Scar was worth celebrating.

It’s a passing thought, but Scar wishes his parents could have met Grian. He wishes they could be here right now, celebrating his birthday again. It would only be right, considering the last time Scar did any sort of celebration was before his server went to hell.

Seeing all of the effort Grian put into this solidifies something for Scar. He survived. It’s not just some dream. He’s not sure why it’s hitting him now, as he stares at a cake with the word ‘birthday’ written on it in icing that was clearly done by Grian. But he’s forced to realize that he really made it through his corrupted world, he’s survived.

It feels like a hard pill to swallow.

“Alright, birthday boy, why don’t you do th— Scar?” Grian had been holding the knife out to the other, but when he sees the wet sheen to Scar’s eyes, he sets it down on the table. With a soft noise, he reaches out, grabbing Scar’s arms gently, “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s not the cake, is it? Or the streamers? I tried not to get anything that was super flashy.”

Scar laughs wetly, furiously shaking his head as he looks at Grian through his tears. “N-No, it’s perfect love. Everything is perfect.”

“But?” Grian gently probes, reaching up to wipe one of the tears that fall down Scar’s cheek. Scar leans into the touch easily.

“I wish they were here too,” Scar quietly admits, and Grian doesn’t need to ask to know who ‘they’ are. More tears roll down Scar’s face, causing Grian to tug him down into his arms. Scar buries his head into Grian’s neck, feeling the other wrap an arm around him, fingers carding through his hair. Scar clutches him tightly, “The last… last time I ever celebrated was with them.”

Grian quietly shushes him, holding him tight. His neck feels wet, but he doesn’t dare pull away.

“Sorry G,” Scar mumbles. “You did all this hard work and here I am crying over it,” he weakly laughs, “I just… never thought I’d do anything like this a-again.”

“Don’t apologize you silly man,” Grian huffs at him, continuing to run his fingers through Scar’s fluffy hair. “It’s only natural, given what you went through. As long as you don’t get your cake wet, cry away.”

Scar laughs again, tugging Grian tighter against him. “I’d hate to eat soggy cake.”

“No one wants a soggy cake.” Grian nods his agreement, laying his head against Scar’s. “Now go on, cry it all out. I’ll… be right here. To hold you and stuff.” He sounds a little awkward as he says it, but words have never been his thing. The fact that he even says something for Scar means the world and more. “If you need extra incentive I’ve got your favorite movies lined up for us to watch too.”

Void, Scar loves this man.

And somewhere, he hopes his parents love him too.

#mochi speaks #mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #I have so many drabbles to write for these guys #they’re in my BRAIN #INFECTED!!!!!!

205 notes · View notes

descendantsramblings · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I literally LOVED your morgie fic! I was just wondering if I could maybe request something like the siren scene from sinbad where reader is sailing with hook and his crew and they all become like entranced by the sirens and reader saves the day and at the end hook is like super proud of her? Sorry if that made like no sense😭

Ahh! I won’t lie I’ve never seen Sinbad so I had to go watch the scene but now I’m gonna have to watch the whole movie. I’m taking some creative liberties obviously to avoid making this toooo much like the movie but I literally LOVE the concept of this. Also, I made the reader Harry’s mom in the future, I hope that’s okay but I wanted to make a fic of them reminiscing when Hook sells the Jolly Roger to Uma anyway so I kinda used this as a “two birds one stone” situation. You made perfect sense, Baby, don’t you worry!

Also!! I saw that crowpickingss also got a very similar request and i didn't read his yet because I was scared of accidently getting inspiration from it, just to be clear.

Call of the Sirens

Captain James Hook x Pirate!Reader

Pronouns Used: she/her/hers

Summary: Hook and his wife retell the tale of when she saved a whole pirate crew from the song of sirens.

Warnings: a touch of swearing, the pirate crew is a little sexist to the reader, sirens are their own warning around these parts, death mentions but mainly in passing, concubine mention, pet names but with my writing that's basically a given, underage alcohol mention

Word Count: 2.2K

“I just can’t believe you’re selling the old girl,” she shakes her head as she speaks, looking over the ship she’d loved so much in her youth. The body of mighty oak and rope that held the hand of her wanderlust way of life until it landed her behind the barrier of the Isle, deeming her one of the lost simply by being in the Captain’s crew. (Y/n) loved being a pirate, the salty spray that seemed to constantly coat her skin and hair, the rum and laughter on warm nights, the adrenaline rush when something would begin to go wrong. Everything about being a member of the Jolly Roger’s crew set her heart on fire. Even if it did get her deemed a villain, it gave her more than life outside the barrier ever could.

“Darling, she’s run her course with us,” he sighs, strutting across the deck to lovingly cradle his wife’s face, “Time for her to host a new set of teenager’s wanderlust egos has come so we can grow old together.” She looks over his shoulder as her son and his two best friends inspect the ship, the niece of their old dear friend seeming to glow as she studied the old body of the boat. “I’m surely going to miss this boat, she was too good to us.” He hums, shaking his head as he can’t fight the smile that threatens his features, “She got us into a world of trouble.” The comment leads the teenagers closer to them, Harry leading as he gets closer to his parents. “That’s not fair and you know it,” (Y/n) shakes her head as she raises a finger to tap against his nose, “You got us into all that trouble, not the Jolly Roger.” “If I remember right,” he dips her down, smirking down at the glare of the sun on her face, “You seemed to be the one getting us out of it. A right hero you were, aye?”

Harry cringes as his father leans down to place a teasing kiss on his mother’s lips, letting out a forced gag that anyone who knew the Hooks would know was playful. “Sounds like Mom was the Captain then.” It causes Hook’s head to snap up, glaring daggers at his son. “I’m the captain, I will always be the Captain. Your mother was just the best under pressure.” She laughs, standing back up and walking to her son, brushing off his shoulders and fixing his collar as she speaks, “I wasn’t even first mate, your father would’ve never let me in on the action by choice. But someone had to keep an even mind on the old girl, you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. The two of us would’ve been well past dead before we even turned eighteen.” She shoots a look back at her husband, taking in the adoring look on his face as he watches the two of them, “Especially that one.”

“Had I not been so scared to lose her, she would’ve made a fine first mate,” his hook slinks around her waist, looping into a belt loop as he kisses her cheek. “You threatened it once.” “Aye,” he turns his attention to his son and his friends, truly making a show of the exchange, “I’ve never been so proud of her. Saved me and our whole crew.” Harry nods, looking between them, “So the day that I was born would be second?” Hook waves his good hand, “Third.” It catches him a swat to the chest, leading him to chuckle. “Darling, tell them about the sirens.”

“Sirens? You faced sirens?” Uma stares at the woman as if she’s the coolest thing on the seven seas, wide eyes aglow with excitement, “No one faces sirens and lives to tell the tale.” The woman smiles, shaking her head, “We wouldn’t have, if the siren song worked on women, or dogs.” “Dogs?” Harry looks at her with confusion, “We used to have a dog?” “I used to have a dog, Cocktail. He was the best dog a girl could’ve had, bless him. They took him from me when we got put on the Isle.” The kids watch her intently, each taking a seat on the deck like dominos falling in a line “Well, get on with it Momma.”

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼

Caves were never her thing. Open waters, lagoons, abandoned islands, she’d take anything over sailing through caves. “James,” her voice is soft as she approaches him, hand slipping onto the steering Captain’s shoulder, “You know how I feel about caves.” She hated to sound whiny, weak. She gave the crew enough reason to think she didn’t belong there. Certain members of the crew even spoke to her as if she was nothing more than James’ concubine. But caves had an evil air to them that the girl couldn’t stand. Nothing good ever came from one, and she was positive that one of these days one would crash in on them. The unstable caverns tended to do so to overzealous explorers.

“Yeah, Captain, you know she’s too much of a scaredy cat to go through a cave. She’s gotta whine the whole time, in case it gets her,” Starkey teases, rolling his eyes before turning back to his conversation with Turk. She glares daggers at him; next time Tick tock came by she wouldn’t think twice about tossing his brutish ass overboard. Let the creature have him instead of the captain. “It’s just the fastest route, Darling. We’ll be out of here in no time,” he pays no mind to his crew as he addresses her worries, sending her a cocky grin over his shoulder. She sighs, giving him a nod as she goes back to her previous seat on the deck of the ship, Cocktail resting his head back on her thigh as she did. Her hand finds its way to the top of his head, nails scratching gently against his skin as she tries to think of anything but how uncanny the cave was. With its muggy atmosphere and dark edges. Rigid calcium buildups hanging from the ceiling with sharp rocks jutting out the water. The air around her smelt dank and the dripping of water from the ceiling's build ups coupled with the odd harmony that hung in the air was enough to drive her insane.

The harmony? Since when did caves have their own harmonies? What is that sound?

She gets up to head back over to her lover, Cocktail hot on her heels as she does. “Aye, Captain?” He hums, seemingly not paying attention to her. “Do you hear that? There’s something off about this cave.” She waited for another snarky comment to come from the rest of the crew but nothing does. Carefully, as her hand finds its foundation on James’ shoulder, her eyes scan the deck. Every man on the ship seemed to stare off, a strange haze taking over their faces. Cocktail begins to bark at her side, nose pointed at the edge of the ship in alert. She looks back to James, the same haze over his face, hand losing the grip he had on the steering wheel. Something about this place was entirely wrong; cursed. That’s what it was, there was some sort of black magic that hung in the air around the place. She just couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

(Y/n) grabs hold of the steering wheel, holding it steady as she looks around in the water. Faint ripples and flashes of large black and deep violet tails. The melody began to make sense, and she took a moment to wonder how the group had been lucky enough to avoid the creatures until now. Never the wisest in their adventures. Seems it was catching up to them now.

“Captain,” she bumps his hip with hers as she speaks, earning no response from his statuesque form. “James,” her fingers snap in his face, not stirring so much as a blink from the boy. “Mr. Smee?” He’s looking over the edge of the ship, blowing a kiss to one of the creatures in the water. “Starkey? Tusk?” Nothing, they were all entranced. Everything had to fall on her now, the realization of it all making her stomach feel as if it was in her throat. Heart beating so loud that it sounds like cannon fire between her ears as she pushes James off of his post. Lip between her teeth as she catches the wheel again, attempting to pull it steady from the way his body weight had swung it right.

Water splashes over the sides of the deck from where the sirens beckon to her crew, the men heading further to the edge as they do. She was losing them, and Hades as her witness (Y/n) was not ready to lose the crew that she’d learned to see as her own twisted form of a family. She leans down as far as she’ll allow herself to, “Cocktail, baby, you're going to have to help me here.” Her fingers grasp around a rope, tossing it to her beloved pet, “Go 'round the deck.” The mastiff takes off, dashing forward with the rope clenched between his teeth, wrapping the crew up in the harsh lead. It was rough, surely something that would catch her hell later, but it was tight enough to stop them. “Good boy, my god, you’re such a good boy.” She calls, focusing her energy back onto steering the ship. She could see the exit of the dreadful dugout now and if she could just avoid the rock to her left they’d be out free. Sirens hated the daylight, thank Merlin she’d remembered to attend class that day.

As she focuses on steering she notices the rise of something maroon in the corner of her eye. James making his way to the edge of the ship, the song getting louder as the siren realized she’d soon have control of the ship’s Captain. And (Y/n), unsure whether it be from love or jealousy, could not let that happen. “Cocktail,” her voice is stressed and jagged, catching the dog’s attention as his head tilts. “Go get Hook!” The large ball of fur barrels forward, entrapping the man’s good arm between his jaws. It solicits a sharp gasp from the pirate, Hook attempting to rip his arm from the dog’s mouth with little success as he tries to reach forwards for the dreadful creature calling out to him. Instead, Cocktail throws his head back, sending the boy stumbling into (Y/n). His lips crash against hers but it’s not right. Sloppy and hazy, like a kiss after a few too many drinks. If only true love’s kiss could work on a siren’s song, she’d have help instead of his dead weight pressed against her. It makes her feel uneasy, shoving her boyfriend off of her as she attempts to regain control of the wheel he’d knocked astray yet again. Just a few hundred more feet and one ugly jagged rock until she’d be far enough into the light that the creatures would lose their control on her ship’s crew. She was almost there.

What (Y/n) had no way of knowing was that there would be a waterfall at the end of the cave. The girl making it all the way to the edge just to plummet to the lower seas. Body being thrown to the ground and on top of the captain's, holding her breath as she waits for the worst. The way their bodies all slam back into the deck as the ship’s hull hits the water again seems to stir something in the crew. Hook sitting back up with a firm grip settling on her, hand ghosting over her cheek. “What the hell happened?” She only laughs, grabbing his face and kissing him as if she was never coming up for air. (Y/n) could feel the stress melt from her shoulders as she leaned further into the boy’s lips, near whining against them. He’s the first to pull back, brows furrowed as he stares into her eyes. “My love, what happened.” She shakes her head, “You drove us into a siren’s lair is what happened,” a soft slap falls to his chest, “No more caves.” Each word is said as if it's punctuated, an accusatory finger hitting his chest as she says them.

“I hate to agree with the girl,” Starkey sighs, attempting to undo the rope around him and the rest of the crew, “But no more caves, Captain.” The statement is followed by the rest of the crew, each member seeming to suddenly share the girl’s hatred of caves. “Alright alright,” he pushes her off his lap to stand as Cocktail makes his way over to his owner. “No more caves. Though,” he looks around his ship, nodding in approval, “It seems you may have a rival for first mate, Smee. My girl did a darling job of taking care of my ship and my crew, look at this.” He looks to her with a genuine smile before leaning down to untie his crew, “A marvelous job, Darling.” Starkey glares at the Captain, a breath of jealousy in his eyes, “Says the man who doesn’t currently have rope burn.” The comment earns him a hook under his chin, Hook’s eyes squinting as they look into his own, “I’d watch your mouth matey. Seems to me that she just saved your life.”

#descendants #james hook #descendants rise of red #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #james hook fanfic #james hook x reader

97 notes · View notes

raikkxz · 6 months ago

Text

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙this lowkey reminds me of a 2018 wattpad story but fuck it we ball﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

IT WASN'T SURPRISING for a young, intelligent woman like you to get your dream job in motorsport, especially as the not very known sister of the much loved driver at rbr, sebastian vettel. start of the season, first day, no sweat. couldn't be much harder than what you've been studying for all your years at uni. you just started working for your brothers team, red bull racing. you could not wait. not only did you get to work at the job you've been dreaming of since you were a little kid, but you got to work along side your older brother, who you loved dearly.

even though you were attempted to be knocked down down by some stupid boys when you were younger, it never stopped you from watching f1 races, studying how they built their cars, or researching about your favourite motorsport. you were determined, stubborn and hardworking. the perfect traits for someone to pursue their dream job. with your supportive brother and family by your side, you were thankful that you finally have made it this far.

as the studious young lady you were, it also wasn't surprising that you were shuffling through your folder containing multiple notes, making sure you didn't forget anything. paying too much attention to what you were doing - rather than where you were going, you bumped into a hard wall.

no, wait. not a wall, but rather a fairly tall man in his early 30s. your folder falls to the floor, the pencil tucked behind your ear doing its best to stay put. squatting down to pick up the fallen folder, you mumbled rapidly. "shoot, sorry, that was completely my fault, i wasn't paying attention to where i wa-"

"relax, darling," you heard a chuckle, the british accent sounding familiar in your ears. "you seem to be stressing yourself out." as you stood up, you were faced with the one and only 2009 wdc winner. "..i- sorry." you whispered softly, embarressed as you stared at your shoes.

"it's alright, love. it was an accident." he grinned, leaning over slightly to see your face. "i haven't seen you around here, are you-"

"there you are!!" your older brother, jogs up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you seemed to forget all about your little accident as you crack into a smile. "c'mon now, you're going to be late." you giggle as seb drags you along with him.

jenson watched as you and sebastian went over to the red bull garage. his eyes followed your perfect posture, up to how your clothes were neat and unwrinkled, finally stopping and lingering on your face. 'friends' with the 2010 champion, hmm? he watched as you entered the garage. he couldn't wait to meet you again.

〜

"hello there, love." from the corner of your eye, you could see a shadow leaning on the doorframe. that same british accent from the day before, that same faint cologne, that same little smirk that seemed to get on your nerves in the weirdest - but not bad - way.

"mr. button." you nod as you wrote notes that you learnt the day before on your tablet.

"please, it's just jenson." jenson sat next to you, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were writing. he did it like personal space wasn't a thing. "i didn't get your name." he turned your head to face you, a small grin on his face.

"it's y/n." you say, not facing him.

"i take it you know sebastian? y'know, from yesterday." he asks, attempting to start a conversation.

"he's my brother." you press 'save' on your tablet, finally closing it and meeting jenson's eyes for the first time. your gaze lingered for a quick second, taking in his features, observing his demeanour.

jenson paused. "brother? i didn't know he had any siblings." jenson says curiously.

"you don't seem to know a lot of things." you say jokingly, giving him a tiny grin. the man couldn't help but chuckle.

"y/n vettel? such a pretty name for a pretty woman." he winks, thinking his usual playboy charm would work on you just like the other girls.

you can't help but roll your eyes playfully as you packed your things. "see you around, button."

〜

you reached into your handbag to pay for your ice cream. the cashier shook her head, gesturing to a man sitting by the window. "he already paid." you furrow your eyebrows. "oh, alright. thank you." you give the cashier a small smile before turning to where she was gesturing to.

jenson damn button. you could already feel his gaze on you and that lingering scent on him as you sat in front of the driver.

"there's really no need to pay for me, mr. button."

"and there's really no need to call me 'mr. button,' love." jenson chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee.

you sigh. you couldn't be stubborn with him, knowing how hard headed he was from all your years of watching f4 to f1.

"this is a nice little shop, don't you think? perfect place to hangout before the australian gp." jenson leans forward, that same smirk on his face.

"mmm, yeah. they have delicous ice cream." you take a bite of yours, not being able to help but feel guilty for not paying for your ice cream.

"what's your favourite flavour?" jenson asks, trying to fuel the conversation.

"chocolate. basic but the best." you say softly with icecream covered lips.

"that's fair." he chuckles. "i'm a vanilla kind of guy."

from there, your conversation grew longer. you both opened up more, sharing small laughs and recalling past memories. it felt like only minutes to you both, but little did you know it was nearly dinner.

"would you look at that, it's nearly 6pm." you check your phone.

"well, before i say goodbye, do you think i could have the pleasure of taking you out for dinner this thursday?" jenson grins.

"nice try, button, but im busy all week. try again next time, and we'll see." chuckling, you pack up your things. "later!" you leave the icecream shop as jenson's eyes follow.

"later." he mumbles. this felt different. different in a way he's never felt like this before. different in a way that you were different. different in a way he was really falling for someone. different or stupid, his stomach twisted with mixed feelings. different.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i genuinely don't know when im gonna have more parts to this 😔﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

318 notes · View notes