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bcyhoods · 1 year

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could I please request steve and shy!reader and her first time staying the night at his place? lots of timid cuddling and just overall sweetness? I loved your first steeb drabble!

ohemgee yay i’m so glad you liked it!! thank u for for such a cute req, i hope i did it justice🫡 | 1k fluff, gn!reader

You were going crazy, without a doubt. You’ve already finished showering, but you’ve been locked away in his bathroom for 15 minutes. The pep talk you’re giving yourself in the foggy mirror does nothing to calm flutter in your stomach.

“Everything okay, honey?” You hear Steve call from down the corridor.

“Yes—Yeah, I’m okay!” The words are rushed and clumsy as the nickname runs through your head on repeat. And while you’re about to sleep in his room for the first time, it’s too domestic for your racing heart. You hope he doesn’t notice.

Giving yourself one final nod of scarce confidence, you pull open the door and softly let it close behind you. You’re practically walking on the balls of your feet so as not to make any noise.

When you peek into his room, you see the plain of Steve’s back facing toward you. You let your gaze shamelessly trace through the freckles and moles that grace his skin, then to the muscles that tense in his biceps as he fluffs one of his pillows. He’s mumbling to himself as he punches and pulls at the cushion.

Once you push past the door, he turns like he’s a child caught stealing the last cookie from the jar. He’s doe eyed with flushed cheeks and messy hair.

“Hey, there you are,” he sings with a gentle smile.

“Hi.” You timidly wave with a smile just as sweet.

“I was getting worried,” he starts as he meets you by the door, “Started to think you fell in or something.” Steve laughs it off, but there’s a small twitch in his eyebrows that threatens to expose his nerves.

Because while you were in the bathroom, Steve had been giving himself his own encouraging speech. One which also fell quite short, but he was better at concealing it. At least he thinks he is.

Your clammy hand reaches for his, a reassuring effort to soothe both your worries. “No search party necessary. I’m still standing,” you reply softly. He releases a hefty exhale — a mixture of a shaky laugh and a sigh of relief — and gives your hand a small squeeze.

“I’ll be right back. You can sleep on either side, I don’t mind.”

He’s quick to jog out, leaving you to roam every inch of his bedroom.

You’ve been in Steve’s room countless times before, you probably have every trinket and frame committed to memory. But every detail has somehow become more intimate since the last time you’ve visited. Every knick knack is a window into Steve Harrington’s being and by tomorrow morning, you’d become even more familiar. The thought only further warms your chest once your eyes land on an old love note you’d given him, preserved in a framed picture of you right on his bedside table.

By the time he returns, you’re already under the covers with a cheesy smile and patting the empty space next to you.

He uses some sort of excuse so that he can keep a dim nightlight on: Just so you can see everything in case you need to get up in the middle of the night. And Steve Harrington doesn’t have a secret aversion to the dark.

No, Steve Harrington is a romantic, and he just really wants to see your pretty face.

“Are you okay?” He whispers as he settles beside you. He moves to bring the blanket up to your chin and traces the underside of your jaw with his knuckle.

“Yes, I’m okay, Stevie.” You giggle at his concerned expression and reach up to smooth out the wrinkle in his brow before you convince yourself not to.

“Good. Good…just checking.”

And though you’re both laying face to face, sharing the same sheets, he’s entirely too far away for your liking. All you would have to do is extend your arms just a few inches until they reach his shoulders. But really, it’s a few inches too much.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again lowly, noting the pensive expression on your face.

Your stomach flips and your hand flies to pick at the skin of your lips. Now, you would just need to ask. But it’s so difficult when he’s staring right at you, practically oozing adoration. Now there’s a knot in your mouth where your tongue should be.

“Steve?”

He hums. The knot tightens.

“You don’t have to, but…can you, um—would you want to…” you trail off as the rest of your question dissipates.

“Do you…do you want me to hold you?” He finishes for you. He’s already moving to sit up before you can say ‘please,’ eager to wrap you up in his embrace.

You sit up the slightest bit so that he’s able to slither his arm underneath your head. He’s laying on his back while you’re curled into his side. You rest on his bicep, legs tangled with his own and an arm around his middle as you play with the fingers of his other hand.

“Is this okay? Am I hurting you?” You turn slightly so that you’re peering up at his face, chin resting on his shoulder. It’s an awkward angle and you know it’s going to result in a dull ache in your neck, but you can’t be bothered to care with his lips so close.

“No, no,” he’s quick to rush out, “This feels nice. I like this.”

It’s not until you see his wide smile that you notice the ache in your cheeks thanks to your matching expression. Without giving it a second thought, you push yourself up to kiss him, eliciting a sigh from the boy. It’s lazy, and it doesn’t last for more than a few seconds before you’re drawing back to hide your burning face in his chest.

He pauses to gather his bearings and gives you a kiss to the top of your head. “If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up, please.”

#officially jumped on the ‘steve calls you honey’ train #god i need a steve harrington shaped bf #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✿ convos with cece #steve harrington #steve harrington thots!#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #joe keery

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beom-pyu · 1 year

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stereo ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ kang taehyun

kang taehyun x fem!reader , tags; just friends? ;) , nsfw , friend group road trips , u sit in tyun's lap (i will never let this trope go)

warnings: smut (minors dni.) , accidental boners , dry humping/frottage , semi-public sex?? no penetration though

wc: 1.2k+

it’s getting late as soobin’s “chill” playlist plays through the stereo, the hum of the car filling the tight space with relaxing white noise. the sun has already set, a dusty blue settling over the highway. everything seems peaceful—kai sits in the window seat, his headphones plugged into his switch, playing video games in silence. beomgyu is already asleep in the middle seat, head tilted back against the headrest behind him as he hugs the backpack that sits in his lap like it’s a teddy bear. yeonjun had called dibs on riding passenger yesterday, so there he sits, watching some random movie on his phone while soobin sings along quietly to the song flowing through the car’s speakers.

everything seems peaceful… and it would’ve been if it weren’t for the fact that you had lost rock, paper, scissors before you all embarked on your trip. and now here you sit in taehyun’s lap, holding onto the door handle to ground yourself as his hands are strictly placed at his sides with his earbuds plugged in his ears, eyes shut. you aren’t sure if he’s asleep or not, but you don’t want to wake him if he is.

you shift slightly to move your foot from under beomgyu’s (you have no idea how you even got into this position), scooting back a bit as you almost slip off of taehyun’s lap as soobin aggressively switches lanes, mumbling a “fuckers don’t know how to drive”. your legs are starting to cramp from sitting so stiffly. you don’t want to move too much and make taehyun uncomfortable, but you’ve been in this position for an hour and you are starting to get a little sleepy as well.

“soob?” you call quietly to not disturb the others in the car, receiving a hum in acknowledgment. “how much longer until we reach the rest stop?”

you see soobin check the gps that sits on the dashboard for a second. “like 45 more minutes? do you have to use the bathroom?”

you shake your head in response before remembering that he can’t see you with his eyes on the road. “no, i was just curious.”

sighing quietly, you shift again, feeling your eyes already starting to droop. you can’t fall asleep while sitting up and you pout a bit, realizing that you have no other choice. you tap taehyun’s arm a few times to check if he’s asleep and thankfully they blink open after the fourth tap, reaching up to remove one of his earbuds.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice a bit drowsy. you feel a little bad, realizing that he was probably half-asleep, so you shoot him an apologetic smile.

“i was wondering if i could lay back so i can nap?” you sound a little timid, but relief fills your chest as he simply nods, opening his arms slightly so you can lay back against his body. you flash him a little sleepy smile as you mutter out a thanks before letting your eyes flutter shut. finally.

you feel taehyun’s arms circle around your torso to hold you steady and let your body relax, your muscles beginning to untense from your previously uncomfortable position. letting your head rest back against his shoulder, you scoot up a bit to get cozy. you can feel his fingers pressing into your skin from over your thin sweater, trying not to think too much about your current position. taehyun is your friend. he probably isn’t thinking anything of it, so you shouldn’t either.

but how can you not when he exhales lowly into your ear as you shift a bit, his fingers lightly drumming on your stomach mindlessly? how you feel him adjust his hips in a way that presses against your ass just right?

your body flashes with a wave of heat, your face growing warm as you pretend to drift off to sleep. you try to tell yourself that he probably doesn’t realize how his dick rubs against your core with every bump in the road—that he doesn’t realize how you feel your panties growing wetter and wetter with every pothole, every turn.

and then you feel it. something poking against your heat through your shorts. he doesn’t say anything, so you don’t either, biting your lip to keep in any noises as he adjusts his hips again. his arms are tight around your waist, your hand coming to hold onto his arm in acknowledgment. no words are spoken, but you hear him sigh lowly as you test the waters, just barely rocking your hips against his crotch. pleasure fills your body at the movement, feeling yourself start to drip through your shorts—you’re glad you chose to wear an all-black outfit.

taehyun’s hips slightly buck up against your core, the fabric of your panties brushing against your clit, and you let out a quiet, restrained noise—soobin’s music is just loud enough to cover up the sound. your entire body is warm as taehyun gently moves you back and forth over his erection by his hold on you, his heavy breathing filling your ears. he presses you down harder and you bite your lip to stop any noises, grinding down on his lap to chase that feeling building up in your stomach.

“taehyun, have you seen this—” taehyun’s grip abruptly halts your movement as yeonjun’s voice suddenly fills the space, your body going limp as you feign slumber. “oh, he’s asleep.”

you feel your heart drop in your stomach, your mind growing dizzy at the thought of almost being caught.

“soobin, look how cute they are,” yeonjun speaks and a beat passes before you hear soobin’s laugh and a little ‘cute’. you try to naturally steady your breathing to not give away the fact that taehyun is faintly grinding up into your ass, even with your friend’s eyes on you. your mind is reeling at just how dirty this entire situation is.

a minute passes before taehyun is holding you down against him once again, harder this time. the pants in your ear pick up, a low, stifled moan leaving his lips. it’s all too much, your cunt gushing as he thrusts up into your clothed heat, hitting you perfectly every time.

“i’m gonna cum,” he mumbles lowly in your ear, and the words themself have your pussy clenching, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you as your body tenses up. you shake in his arms as you hear him grunt quietly before feeling a warmth spread underneath you. your body buzzes with ecstasy as you sink back against him, the back of your neck covered in a thin layer of sweat from your ministrations.

taehyun’s chest rises and falls deeply against your back, his hands brushing over your thighs softly before returning to your torso to pull you closer. your eyes open briefly, turning your head a bit to see his flushed state—his bangs stick to his forehead and his lips are parted as he breathes heavily. his eyelids are still shut, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

“thank you,” he whispers quietly before his eyes open, finding yours easily in the dark of the car. you give him a small smile, your fingers brushing over his forearm before your eyes shut in exhaustion. you have no idea what any of this means, but you’d talk about it once you were alone. feeling his body relax into the seat of the car, you let yourself drift off to the quiet music flowing out of the stereo.

reblogs are highly cherished!

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

#txt #txt imagines #txt smut #txt fluff #txt scenarios #taehyun #taehyun imagine #taehyun imagines #taehyun smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun x you #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #beom-pyu

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bodythieves · 14 days

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horny cowboy content warning - mdni

(grinding and such, it’s kinda long too)

this is just downright pathetic.

How were you supposed to be anything but pathetic, though? With Arthur Morgan sitting before you, a delicious heat from the fire that licks your back in waves, and a knot in your belly that just wouldn’t come undone? To add to that, Arthur’s hands are all over you. Calloused, thick fingers, moving along your sides and your ribs. The man’s hands continue due north, pushing between the soft fabric of your shirt and your sun-beaten, tired skin. He pushes your button up away, and it falls to the dirt, and you don’t give one damn.

You never have, you never would, and you never could.

The cicadas sing loudly throughout the New Austin night. Arthur would complain, he always complained, big old baby. But you, you liked it. If it were up to you, you’d sit and listen to the cicadas and crickets and katydids sing and gladly take up a dime an hour doin’ it.

Apart from the critters of the night, there was a sweet, misconstrued mess of mumbling breaths between your lips and Arthur’s. A gentle clang and clack of spurs, belt buckles scraping against one another as you slid your way up from your kneeling position in the dirt. You were slotted between his legs, hands braced on either side of him. Palms pushed so deep into the dead wood of an abandoned wagon’s step, you could’ve sworn your flesh had been worn raw.

You had been begging him. On your knees, jeans pressed forcibly into the dry dirt beneath them, whimpering like a lost dog. Only time you rarely found yourself on your knees, was when you were praying to a god you didn’t quite believe in, about things you were in quite desperate need of.

“I can’t take it no more,” you shuddered out, your voice sounding so fraught and pitiful, you could hardly even recognize it yourself. You rolled yourself forward again, that wicked scrape of belt buckles making your skin’s hair stand at attention.

Arthur didn’t seem to register what you said. That, or he was down right ignoring you- probably both. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was both. However, his hands did drop from your rib cage, and went to grab your rear, his fingers now splayed in the pockets of denim there. You could hear him let out a gruff groan, his head ducking low and against your shoulder as he pulled you up into his lap.

Instinctively, your knees spread, and made themselves right at home beside Arthur’s hips, the crotch of your jeans now snugly pressed against the engraved metal that fastened Arthur’s leather belt taut against his waist. Settling into the position was easy, this dance now familiar between you and Arthur, like you didn’t even need a beat behind you to fall in to the rhythm. Arthur was quick to press his hips against yours, the wagon’s step shifting beneath the two of you.

“Hell’s bells, you smell damn good,” he grumbled lowly, damn near inaudibly, that thick tone rumbling through your shoulder and collar like a thunderclap.

“Vanilla,” you mumble in response, taking in a deep breath as you turned your head down and to the left, nose deep into Arthur’s hair. He’d been letting it grow out. You didn’t mind it. Made it easier to tug on. “Off the trees.. gotta do what you can with what.. what ya-”

Whew. God damn. Spit it out already.

It didn’t matter. Arthur wouldn’t let you finish your sentence, he didn’t wanna talk. Not right now, damn it. Talking would surely serve to irritate him, and you weren’t really in the position to be using words. You could barely even form a coherent thought; just sitting there, miserably grinding your apex against his belt, huffing and puffing, your jeans feeling as if they would snap from how tight and stiff your stomach felt.

It was almost like you had blacked out for a second, your thoughts swimming around in a wild current and then finally coming to as Arthur pulls your head down for a kiss, one hand moving from your rear to wrap around your waist and hold you down against his groin. The man huffed lowly, kissing you with brandy-wine and tobacco still on his tongue, his arm clutching your bare torso tight, his hips lazily moving upwards in a search for you. You, loving the friction that that damn belt brought, pushed your rear down and grabbed on to his shoulders for a moment.

“Christ,” you breathe out, your stomach now as hot as the flames that warmed your back. Your movements became more and more anguished, your hands moving to find Arthur’s shoulders. Bitten and jagged nails dug into the man’s shoulders, your sighs filling his ears. You didn’t even need anything more than this, and evidently, neither did Arthur.

“Ain’t present,” The cowboy caviled, pulling away so he could let his head fall back. His arm was still locked around you, holding you in position. He, on the other hand, shifted and spread his legs. Arthur’s trousers were growing exponentially tighter and more uncomfortable, his own breathing now rasped and shaking.

Still grinding your hips, pushing yourself against his bulge and buckle, you watched him like he was the pure picture of desire. Light hair tossed back and disheveled, stuck to the sides of his head from his sweat. You always liked how New Austin treated him. His thick brows pushed upward and he gritted his teeth, jutted out his lip, his stubble making the expression all the more attractive. Opening his blues to catch your eyes and let out a throaty groan, you felt yourself start to come undone, the mixture of eye contact and bare chests against one another making you feel absolutely drunk with lust.

Then, the grinding. You hissed and jerked in his arm, which only rewarded you with a closer tug to his body. Arthur continued to buck beneath you, but no longer lazily. Rather, with conviction and confidence, like he wanted you to get off like this. Bare chest, jeans clad tight, spurs clanging, and in his lap.

Like he wanted to get off like that, too.

notes: I DID IT. IM ABOUT TO PASS OUT BUT I DID IT. no proofreading no plot just this. enjoy goodnifht.

#sorry guys 🧍🏼‍♀️ I haven’t posted anything like this before #I. hope you enjoy this goodnifht #arthur Morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #x reader #x you #i love my cowboy #yapping #also this can be x fem reader or x masc #brizzy writes things

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pxuvalentinx · 6 months

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thoughts on reader comforting aventurine by singing them a song while they cuddle?? like a lullaby aventurine’s big sis sang to him often. so he often sings it lowly when reader and him are together, and now reader sings it to him to comfort him. love your stuff btw, keep it up !! 🫶

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! sadly i’m not creative enough to come up with a lullaby myself so instead i just chose to work with the little saying (2.1 spoilers) aventurine and kakavasha did in the end of the 2.1 storyline, and kinda made him hum it a little. i hope that’s fine too😭😭

and tysm for your sweet words🫶

"May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you, keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful, and your schemes forever concealed." You’d hear your boyfriend mumble sometimes, often when he didn’t know that you were around. It was no secret that he was ashamed of his past, so he’d just switch topics whenever you mentioned it.

One night you were laying in bed with Aventurine as usual, talking about your day, as he kept yawning. Eventually he crawled closer to you, wrapping an arm around you and just listening to your voice. You watched his eyes close, even though he had a rather disstressed look on his face. Rough day.

Of course you weren’t stupid, you figured by now that it was probably something his mom or sister told him in the past, something that gave him comfort. He never told you much about them, but you know that they were very dear to him, till the last breath.

Your hand moved to the top of his head, gently patting it. A slight hum escaped your lips. "May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you, keeping your blood eternally pulsing…" His eyes practically shot open as he listened to your words. Jaw slightly dropped. The confusion was written on his face.

"May your journey be forever peaceful, and…Ah how does it continue again?" You asked, amused by the confused look on his face.

“Your schemes forever concealed…but..how?" The gambler was lost for words, you could find slight terror in his eyes. He was utterly confused.

“I heard you mumble it sometimes. I’m sorry if it wasn’t appropriate to-“

“No, no, quite the opposite. Hearing you say it was quite comforting..” His face looked now relieved, still a bit shocked. Even his signature smirk was gone now.

In his head the 'phrase' was just a silly thing he picked up from his family and said it whenever he felt stressed, he would’ve never told anybody about any of it. But now that you knew about it, it got an entirely new meaning to him. Now that he heard those words out of your mouth, he would no longer feel ashamed. Again, quite the opposite, it made him feel safe in some type of way.

From now on you would say it whenever he needed comfort, holding him close while the words soothed the knot in his throat, that would build up whenever he felt stressed, like warm honey. Other times you’d get to hear them from him, as he told you a bit more about them. The meaning, why it comforts him, of who it reminds him of, and so on. You felt like it really strengthened your bond, so you were quite grateful.

(i’m so sorry that it took me so long to get to this request, i’ve been so busy omfggg…but tysm for reading 🫶 as always any support is appreciated, requests are open!! i also wanna thank everyone for the recent support, i never thought people would enjoy my work that much😭)

#x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine fluff #aventurine headcanons #aventurine x you #fluff #honkai star rail #hsr #2.1 spoilers #aventurine is a sweetheart #i love aventurine #anxious aventurine #kakavasha mention

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multifandomimagin3s · 1 year

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Singer!Reader - 141, Los Vaqueros + Konig

Requested by Anon

Summary: Reader has to go undercover for a mission - and the guys find out that they have an amazing singing voice.

The song I had in mind whilst writing this was Doin' Time - Lana Del Rey ~

"Remember - eyes open, watch your six, Sergeant," Price's gruff voice spoke through your ear piece," The target is front and centre."

"Copy, Sir," You replied lowly.

Undercover missions were nothing you hadn't done before - in fact before your transfer to the 141 Taskforce they were your bread and butter. Usually your role was that of the other members of the squad - watch for the target, and then get them quickly and discretely as possible. This time? Well, Laswell had decided it would be best to put one of your other skills to use; before joining the army, you had a passion for music and singing, something that you didn't really get a chance to indulge in after climbing the ranks.

The mission itself was simple enough - you were to be onstage, singing to distract those in the room, namely the target, while the rest of the squad got into position - at which point, it was 'capture or kill' (as Ghost had put it).

You took a calming breath in through your noise and out through your mouth. Laswell would definitely owe you for this one...

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Had no idea that you could sing - when your melodic voice reaches his ears, it catches him off guard for a second, before he shakes his head slightly. Focus, he tells himself.

His eyes remain glued to the target, but he's internally fighting with himself not to stare at you.

Especially since you're dressed so nicely - he thinks you look good in anything you wear, even when in sweaty camo gear.

The target seems to ogle you just as adoringly - and it sets a fire in his belly.

When Price gives the signal to move in, he's taking the lead - and to his delight when the target resists, he gets to throw a punch at his stupid face.

After the mission, he voices his appreciation - well, as best as Ghost usually does:

"Not bad, Sergeant."

Definitely wants to hear you sing again, and might ask for an encore in private...

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's staring at you with this adorable look of pure awe - it takes a nudge and disgruntled look from Ghost for him to remember why he was there in the first place.

Johnny also had no idea that you could sing, which was made more obvious by his reaction.

He sings your praises as soon as the mission is over, eyes practically sparkling with barely contained excitement; he has to reel himself back a bit given he was around his superiors.

"Aw that wis absolutely class*, (Y/N/N) - got the voice of an angel ~" [wis = was] [class = amazing, brilliant, great ].

Congratulations - you're now going to be his partner for drunk karaoke.

((I can absolutely see Soap getting piss drunk and belting out 'Sweet Caroline' in a pub after a mission - it gives Ghost a migraine every time he does it))

Captain John Price

He knew you could sing, he's seen your file - but he didn't know you could sing like that.

When Laswell had suggested her plan to him to use you as a distraction, he was a bit sceptical - to be honest, he'd rather have just captured the target either before he got to the venue or when he was leaving. But he trusted her judgement.

And he's glad that he did.

He praises you like a typical Dad;

"You did good there, (Y/L/N)," As he pats your back.

When Soap drags you up on stage with him for drunk karaoke, he's slightly less annoyed - at least your sweet voice might help cancel out Soap's :))

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Sweet boy is trying to stay composed for the mission - but try as he might, he can't control his facial expressions.

He's not as overtly expressive as Soap, but his eyebrows do almost meet his hairline, mouth parted slightly in surprise.

See, I reckon Kyle probably knew because you told him one night about how you used to sing a lot before joining the army - he's easy to talk to and a good listener, so you didn't mind him knowing.

Still, he's still amazed that you were this good.

I can also see him joining in on you and Soap's drunk karaoke session after a few drinks - and he's not a bad singer either.

Alejandro Vargas

Oh, he's your number one fan.

Stays composed for the sake of the mission but he can't help but crack a smile.

You probably met him during the Hassan mission, so he hasn't known you for too long - and you're full of surprises.

After the mission, he asks you questions - how long have you been singing? did you have lessons? He's just curious.

Probably would ask if you knew any Spanish songs - and if not, he's happy to teach you :)

Rudy Parra

He's naturally quite a quiet guy so he doesn't say much - his face says more than words could.

Like Alejandro, he hasn't known you very long but being able to learn more about you - and your skills off the field - is interesting.

He's a man of few words so he'd probably just give you a compliment which is short and concise;

"Tu voz es hermosa." ["Your voice is beautiful."]

Definitely would love to hear you sing again, and silently hopes that he will in future.

Develops a little crush on you then and there.

Konig

He knew you could sing - he's heard you singing in the showers back on base.

Being the shy guy that he is, he didn't say anything to you - he wasn't trying to be creepy but he was walking by on route to his room, and he heard you. Yeah, that sounded a bit sus.

But to hear you on stage, your voice crystal clear and so beautiful, had the little crush he had on you tripling in size.

He probably wouldn't say anything to you after the mission - he's naturally quiet and shy, plus he likes you, and you both were around the team so his anxiety said no.

However, when you're back on base and he gets a moment alone with you, he gets his words out;

"Sie haben eine erstaunliche stimme, Sergeant." ["You have an amazing voice, Sergeant."

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months

Text

Wandering

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Set during 15x07 (spoilers included), Dean takes you out for a solo hunt where you run into his old friend Lee, but things go sour quickly.

You were sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching your big brother Sam and his ‘friend’ Eileen awkwardly flirt, though they were clearly hungover. You were somewhere in between being amused and disgusted, but Sam was making you some bacon so you figured you could get over it. Besides, you liked Eileen, and it was good to see Sam smile again.

Despite that, you were relieved to see Dean finally stumble into the kitchen looking for coffee. You’d spent the last twenty minutes feeling like the third wheel to your big brother’s date, and you hoped that Dean had something to do that would get you out of here for a while.

“Are you guys hungover?” Dean said after only minute or two around the happy couple.

“We may have gotten a little carried away…” Eileen said, smiling shyly at Sam.

“With margaritas,” the two finished together, Sam mimicking Eileen’s sign language. Dean just stared at them for a moment before brushing the awkwardness aside and continuing.

“Ok, well I’m gonna head out. I think there might be a hunt.”

“You want us to come?” Sam asked, suddenly more alert.

“No no, it’s…it’s probably nothing.” Dean shrugged.

“I’m coming!” You insisted, jumping up.

“You don’t have to…” Dean began, but he stopped at your pleading stare. “Ok, ok.”

“You want some bacon?” Sam asked, frowning in concern at Dean’s eagerness to leave.

“No, I should get going.”

Sam’s eyebrow’s almost disappeared into his hair.

“But it…it’s bacon.”

Dean just shrugged and turned to go. You snatched up several pieces off the plate that Sam was still holding out, before running to catch your big brother.

…

The ride out was pretty quiet other than Dean’s cassettes blaring from the speakers. You got the impression he didn’t want to talk, so you were content to just hum along to his music and keep to yourself.

He got this way sometimes; restless and desperate to get away. You normally let him, but the last thing you wanted was to spend the weekend third wheeling Sam and Eileen, so this time Dean would have to get away with you tagging along.

You arrived in Texas pretty late, but Dean still opted to turn into the bar where the girl disappeared so he could start looking for intel right away.

A day-long car ride with someone who doesn’t really want you there is exhausting, so you were dragging your feet a little on the way inside. You found a corner to huddle in while Dean began to look around—standard procedure, since you couldn’t drink and Dean didn’t want you to end up talking to creeps. However, you emerged from your corner when you noticed Dean staring intently at a man up on stage singing. The man noticed him after he’d finished the song and was stepping off the stage. You neared Dean as the two men stared at each other—they didn’t really look happy.

“Lee Webb,” Dean said lowly.

“Dean Winchester.” Was the reply.

They stared for a few more tense seconds before they suddenly lurched forward. You jumped in surprise, wondering for a moment if you should intervene. But then you saw the huge grin on Dean’s face—they weren’t fighting, the idiots were hugging.

“What are you doing here?” Dean demanded as he pulled away.

“What am I—I own this place! What are you doing here?”

“I’m on a hunt,” Dean replied. “You don’t hunt anymore?”

“No, no not for a while,” Lee said, a dark look clouding his face for a moment before he shook it away.

“Oh, Y/N!” Dean turned to you suddenly, still grinning. “Look who it is!”

“This is Y/N?” Lee said reverently. “Last I saw you you were learning to walk! I can’t imagine you remember me, do you little sister?”

You shook your head shyly, your body subconsciously leaning behind Dean at the sudden attention.

“That’s ok,” he assured you, chuckling. “Come here, it’s good to see you little sister!” You stepped around Dean and accepted the hug Lee offered. “Last time we met you didn’t even reach my knee. You used to call me Lee Lee.” Lee chuckled.

There was something strangely comforting about this man you didn’t recognize; maybe it was the smile on Dean’s face. Or maybe it was how normal this interaction was—some stranger greeting you and talking about how he knew you when you were a baby—it was like something out of a family reunion on tv. Your small family didn’t have many old friends, and the only family reunion you could have would need to be at a cemetery.

“Lorna!” Lee called out suddenly after he pulled away from you. “Can you get us some drinks?”

As the two men headed for a table, you tugged on Dean’s sleeve.

“I’m gonna look around a little,” you said. “You go on.”

“You sure?” He asked, and when you nodded he left without another thought. You found yourself smiling at this; Dean, grinning and catching up with an old buddy. It was so normal, and that didn’t happen for you guys a lot. You were more than happy to step to the side and let them reminisce; you couldn’t imagine you’d have much to add.

As you moved through the bar, you found yourself desperate to get away from the crowd. You were wandering, completely unfocused on where you were going; all your energy was taken up trying not to run into people. So when you arrived at a door at the side of the bar, you went to it immediately. It was locked, but that didn’t deter you; you’d been spending much too much time around your brothers.

You pulled out the lock pick that Sam had given you and made quick work with the lock. You weren’t particularly sure why you were breaking and entering, other than your desperation to get away from the people surrounding you. Between Sam busy with Eileen this morning, and Dean meeting up with an old friend now, you felt very unwanted, and you couldn’t get far enough away.

The lock clicked and the door opened without trouble. You stepped in to find not a supply closet—what you had expected—but instead a large cellar. You slipped down the steps, closing the door silently behind you. You looked around the dark space, confused—there were no chairs, no extra drinks, nothing that looked like the cellar of a bar. Instead, there was a large steel door with metal bars instead of a window. You were creeping closer to it when a bang resounded through the space following a giant, horrendous head appearing at the window. It was worse than any monster you’d seen

You couldn’t help it—so unexpected was the creature—you let out a shriek of terror before clapping a hand over your mouth. You glanced at the door out, your breathing ragged and quick. Had anyone heard?

If Lee owned this place, and the monster was here…

He was who you were hunting.

…

“I wonder where Y/N got off to,” Dean muttered to himself as he sat back down with Lee after a—he hated to admit it—fun karaoke session. He was relieved to see that you hadn’t seen it, as it was the last thing he needed getting back to Sam.

“I’ll go look for her,” Lee offered, and before Dean could protest he continued. “I’d like to catch up a bit with her. Besides, you gotta warm up your voice for the next song.” Dean rolled his eyes as Lee went off in search for you.

Lee was just passing his cellar door when he heard a scream. He froze; it was so loud in the bar that he wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t right by the door. He knew it was you; he should’ve known better than to let a Winchester, even a little one, wander around the bar with a monster in the basement. Even as he opened the door, his mind was going a mile a minute, trying to think of some way to get out of this.

Trying to think of a reason not to kill you.

…

There were boxes stacked up in a small corner under the stairs, so when you heard the door opening you ran for them. Crouching low, you held your hand over your mouth to try to cover your ragged breaths.

“Y/N?”

Your heart caught in your throat at the sound of Lee’s voice.

“I know you’re in here, Y/N. You saw something you weren’t supposed to see, right?” You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, so he continued. “That’s ok, little sister. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just come on out and we can talk.”

Your hands shook as you considered his words. Surely he was lying, but if he was it wouldn’t matter; he’d find you, it was only a matter of time. Maybe if you could catch him off guard…

You shoved the boxes next to you and they went tumbling down. Hoping that would distract Lee, you made a break for the stairs. You didn’t even get close.

“Hey,” Lee grabbed you around the waist and it was over—you were no match for his strength. “Hey, stop!” Your struggles didn’t even affect him, so after a long moment you stilled. “That’s it.” He sighed, but his grip didn’t relax. “It’s ok little sister.”

Another bang from the cage where the monster was held had you whimpering as you again tried to escape.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Lee soothed. “It won’t hurt you, and neither will I. You just gotta make me a promise, ok?” Lee turned you around in his arms so you were facing him, his hands tight on your arms to keep you from running. “You can’t tell Dean about this.”

“I don’t understand.” You shuddered. “Y-you’re making those people disappear?” You couldn’t help the tears that were blurring your vision. You were terrified and confused.

“Don’t worry about that.” Lee demanded. “There’s a lot you just don’t understand, and Dean wouldn’t either. So if you want to get out of here, you gotta promise me you won’t tell him.”

“You said you-you wouldn’t hurt me,” you countered.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Lee pleaded. “Do you promise? Nobody has to get hurt if you just don’t tell Dean.”

Your whole body shook as you forced yourself to nod. A change came over Lee’s face, like a storm cloud coming over the sun.

“Now come on. Don’t lie to me, I can tell.”

Another bang from the cage had both of you flinching this time. Somehow you recovered before Lee did, and you broke free of his grasp and ran for the stairs.

“Hey!”

You were halfway up the stairs when a harsh tug on the back of your shirt threw you off balance. Your stomach flipped as you lost your footing and fell backwards off the stairs. Your body twisted mid-fall, and when you hit the floor it was hands-first. Your right arm twisted horribly upon impact, and you screamed out in pain as your bones cracked.

“Kid, hey.” You whimpered as Lee lifted your head, looking you over. “Gosh, your arm’s definitely broken.” He shook his head. “Why couldn’t you just do what I told you?” You tried to back away from Lee as he stared at you, but he wouldn’t let you go. Lee sighed, “You’ve got too much of Dean in you. I’m sorry little sister, I really am.”

“Sorry?” You whimpered. “Why—“

You were cut off as Lee snatched up a rag and wrapped it around your mouth. He lifted you by the arms—being surprisingly gentle with your broken arm—and despite your struggles, he wrestled you into a chair and tied you down.

“Could’ve been so easy,” Lee muttered to himself—or to you, you couldn’t tell. “But you just couldn’t leave it alone.”

You tried to speak, but the words couldn’t escape past the gag.

“They can’t hear you anyway,” Lee mumbled, reaching up and pulling the gag down.

“Lee Lee, please—“ you hadn’t even meant to call him that, the nickname just slipped out, like your subconscious remembered the man who used to be good, and was trying to ease him back—“please, I just wanna go back to Dean.”

“You’d tell him, I know you would.” Lee groaned. “I didn’t wanna do this.”

“You don’t have to—“ you yelped in surprise when Lee stuck a needle in your arm. It was attached to a clear tube leading right into the monster’s cage. “You’re feeding me to your monster?”

“It won’t hurt,” Lee promised. “After you lose a couple of pints, you just pass out. I promise it won’t hurt, little sister.”

“Stop it, stop calling me that!” You sobbed.

You flinched in surprise when Lee lifted a hand up and brushed a few of your tears away.

“I really didn’t wanna do this.” He sighed. He lifted the gag back up and turned to leave.

…

When Lee returned, you were barely conscious. Everything felt foggy and dreamlike. That was perhaps why it took you a moment to recognize who Lee was tying to the chair next to you—Dean.

“Y/N?” Dean’s panicked voice reached through your fogged mind, and you lifted your head.

“Lee, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Dean growled. “Let her go.”

“Can’t do that, Dean. She’d just run to your other brother, and things would go bad all over again. I didn’t want any of this to happen, but…”

Lee’s words faded out of your mind as you felt your consciousness slipping away.

You managed to make out Dean calling your name, and Lee assuring him…

“She’s not in pain, Dean. She won’t feel a thing.”

…

“Y/N! Come on, sweetheart.”

You stirred to feel Dean shaking your shoulders. When your eyes fluttered open, he relaxed completely.

“Hey, hey you ok?”

You nodded weakly as you glanced around the room, trying to get your bearings. The needle was out of your arm, and you jumped in surprise when you saw the monster in the middle of the floor; he was dead.

“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean breathed, and you stiffened in surprise when he pulled you into his arms. “You had me worried there for a second.”

You relaxed for the first time in far too long, happy to feel safe in Dean’s arms. But it ended all too soon as he pulled away.

“You gotta stay here for a bit, alright? I gotta take care of Lee.”

“Take…take care of him?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Dean’s face darkened. “Kiddo, he killed people. You know what I have to do.”

“Let me help,” you said in a small voice, but he just shook his head.

“Your arm’s broken. I want you to stay here, I can handle him, ok?”

You nodded, and Dean was up and climbing the stairs without another word.

…

You waited with bated breath by the door as shots rang out just in the other side. As soon as the shots stopped, you tugged at the door to peak your head in. That was a mistake.

“Y/N, no!” You heard Dean yell as he jumped up to run to you from behind the bar. He wasn’t fast enough.

Lee was on you before you could even see what direction he came from. He’d ditched his—presumably empty—gun in favor of a beer bottle that he broke against the wall just before reaching you.

Dean got within three feet of you before Lee had you, back to his chest and the broken bottle to your throat.

“Don’t even think about it,” Lee said, and Dean raised his hands in surrender and backed up a half-step.

“Just let her go.”

“Can’t do that, Dean.”

“Yes you can,” Dean reasoned. “Just let her go, and you and me can fight this out. Even fight, just you and me.”

“If you didn’t want her involved, you shouldn’t have brought her.” Lee shook his head. “She’s just a kid, Dean. Pretty darn curious one. She found my little hiding spot within an hour.”

“You said it yourself, she’s just a kid,” Dean pleaded. “So let her alone.”

“Just you and me?” Lee seemed to be turning the idea over in his head.

“Fair fight,” Dean said. “I know you don’t want to hurt her. So don’t.”

“I take her, no one has to get hurt.” Lee argued. “I’ll let her go when I’m far away from here.”

“You won’t get far, you know that,” Dean said. “Let’s just get this over with now. Let her go.”

There was a painfully long pause before the pressure on both your throat and your arm was released. You ran immediately to Dean, who took hold of your shoulders.

“Go to the Impala.”

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head.

“I need—“ Dean shook you a little as you continued to protest. “—hey, look at me, I need you to go, please. Sweetheart you’ve gotta go.”

“B-but…”

“Go.”

Dean was pushing you away now, towards the door, and you didn’t see much choice other than to obey. You took one step away from him before changing course and jumping into his arms.

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok,” Dean promised.

“Don’t lose,” you whispered.

Dean didn’t speak. He just pulled you away and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You left without another protest.

…

“I meant wait inside the Impala, not—“

Dean didn’t get a chance to finish quip, as he was nearly knocked backwards by the force of you flinging yourself into his arms.

“Hey now,” he chuckled. “You weren’t nervous, were you?”

You could tell that his stupid jokes were an attempted deflection to the fact that he just killed an old friend, so you didn’t bother responding to them; you just kept holding on.

Dean sighed after a moment, too tired to keep up the smile and the jokes. “Hey, how’s that arm?”

“Still broken.” You grinned. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Ok, ok. Let’s just get out of here. And kid?”

“Yeah Dean?”

“No more wandering off.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister

300 notes · View notes

literallyangy · 9 days

Text

yuu as the dare ?!

gender neutral (perhaps gender evil) yuu

warning? mention of peanits :(, mention of the non brit brit man (the dare)

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riddle (pre book 1) be shocked asf! like why would yuu create such inapproiate music? he collared yuu because girls was wayyy too sexual for him!

post b1 riddle might listen a few times, eventually riddle gets it. Yuu has heard from ace that riddle occasionally hums their songs , but you didn't hear that from Ace!

leona doesnt care. if yuu becomes reallly good friends w him he might listen every now and then but like he doesnt really care. yuu's music is a bit too loud for his ears and is terrible for naps, why should he care?

(pre and post b2 btw)

azul (pre book 3) will find out that yuu sings and will try to steal their voice. but yuu doesnt want that and wont take any pesuasion so azul has to let go, but atleast azul gets a new building!

post b3 azul will listen to yuu's songs and think, "what the flip" or something. he would probably not be able to look yuu in the eyes without pulling up the business man scam persona again

jamil, like leona, doesnt care. he has other shit to do! why should a lowly servant like he care about some alien music?

Eventually, after sometime of being friends, Jamil decides to listen to Yuu's music. He thinks its good and becomes a regular listener, its a good way to ignore his fate and instead focus on the music. On the rare occasion that Jamil has time, he dances to yuu's songs

Vil, is so peeved by yuu's music, its so vulgar and bruttish! Not to mention the whole 'i wear a suit everyday' motif yuu does! The suit doesn't even match yuu! He does find it quite intriuging though.

If yuu became close friends with Vil he will take them out shopping for suits while giving them tips on how to properly promote their music.

Idia, finds Yuu's music pretty cool but very normie like. Idia is an avid vocaloid, japanese equivalent pop, soundtrack, alt, indie type of boy. so he doesnt really get yuu's music, its totally wayyy sensual for a gamer like him!

he does however enjoy making edits of his favs to yuu's music when they become better friends, he only does kt because the beat is easy! not because he wants to promote their music!

Malleus, he's curious and fascinated. Is this what humans do in their spare time now? How funny! Sometimes, he asks about the production of Yuu's songs to further understand the current society of Twisted Wonderland. He also asks about certain lyrics , for example the one about "girls who have dicks" and why that lyric was included.

When he has dinner with the rest of his found family, he brings up Yuu's hobby and everyone is happy that Malleus is learning more. Sebek becomes appaulled after finding out the more vulgar topics Yuu sings about.

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grammar changes a lot my bad! i just felt 💪💪 also sorry if fhis is ooc i lkterally js started book 4

malleus trans ally!

113 notes · View notes

boneblushed · 1 year

Text

Untouchable

masterlist | part 5 | part 6

synopsis the if only conundrum.

wc 4.6k

“Rafe,” you warn.

“Y/N…” he echoes, his finger sweeping over your warm cheek.

He’s too close, closer than he should be, far closer than your own good or his would sanction.

And it’s as though his stupid, familiar scent has immobilised you, the rough chlorine and vetiver like a disarming agent, liquefying your limbs. His lips draw nearer, less than an inch from yours now, and your pathetic heart jumps into your throat in tandem.

Is he having as much trouble catching a breath right now as you are?

Your gaze staccatos as you force it up to his features, halting on his bobbing Adam’s apple, the shadow of stubble on his neck. At his mouth now, you watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. Pause. His eyes are all pupil with a thin wafer of deep blue, like the rim of the horizon before it descends into velvet dusk.

He leans in further, reinforcing his hold on your jaw, and rather than doing the same, you find yourself freezing in place.

Perhaps it’s the fact that this is all becoming too real too fast—Rafe Cameron with his hand on your face, Rafe Cameron with zero regard for personal space. Rafe Cameron making the same move on you that he’s no doubt made on every other girl on his roster; he’s this close to sealing the deal, tasting your lips and marking you his, when you realise that you don’t want to be another name he gets to cross off his list.

If only you knew.

You press the heels of your palm against his chest hastily, hesitant more than firm, enough force for Rafe to stumble back in surprise.

His chest lurches in protest, his skin singed where your hands made contact.

“Rafe,” you resound, letting out another shaky breath. Unsure. “Stop.”

“I — shit,” he mutters back, his voice gruff, almost languid. He straightens a little and runs his fingers through his hair, the soft, dirty-blonde locks limp against his touch. “Why?”

You wince. “I could ask you the same question.”

Rafe falters, momentarily caught off guard, his thick brow furrowing as he looks back down at you. “Are you kidding?” He rasps, as if trying to catch his breath. “You have to know that not kissing you right now is fucking torture.”

“We… we can’t,” you say then, grappling for excuses that are quickly slipping through your fingers. “Our relationship is strictly professional, and —”

“Oh come on,” Rafe interrupts then, reclaiming his hold on your jaw so that he can prompt your gaze up to meet his. “The way we look at each other is the exact opposite of professional.”

Your eyes widen slightly, disarmed by the revelation, and you find yourself struggling to deny the truth of it without outright lying.

“The amount I think about you,” he continue lowly, his voice gravelly around the edges. “Would put Cromwell into a fucking coma.”

The things I want to do to you, he wants to add, would definitely have that effect. Maybe—definitely—that’s overkill. Perhaps it’s your closeness that’s rendered him defenceless, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s superimposed by your wide eyes and pretty mouth. Christ, you’re going to be the death of him. He wonders whether you know that you’re pressing your cheek into his palm right now, vying for more of him. You have these tells that he’s yearned for since before tonight, before this year, before the year prior and probably even before he tried to ask you out.

A beat. You want to believe him so badly your heart aches, but there’s a nagging in your chest that makes it difficult to focus on anything else.

“Why now?” You whisper, uncertain.

“Didn’t think I had a chance til now,” he murmurs back.

What happens if it doesn’t work out? It taunts, refusing to relent. What happens if he loses interest just as you’re ready to accept it?

“It’s not the right time, Cameron,” you reply finally, letting out a languid sigh. You push away from him again, more sure this time than you were before. “It… it’ll overcomplicate things.”

“The way I feel about you already happens to do that,” he murmurs back, though it’s clear he’s beginning to acquiesce. He sighs too. “But,” he takes a step back, and your heart pulls, “shit… as much as I don’t want to, I get it.”

“Okay,” you say, swallowing thickly. Selfish as it is, you sort of wish he’d fought you on the fact harder.

“Okay,” he echoes, clearing his throat. Another beat as the pair of you regain your composure, or what’s left of it after the havoc wreaked by the promise of something more.

You nod in assent, try for a smile. It’s as you’re readying yourself for the let’s-pretend-this-never-happened speech that the pair of you are interrupted by the sound of a car fast approaching, the turbulent ignition like a blade through the silence.

Your father pulls into the driveway just as Rafe turns to face it, his headlights bathing the two of you in yellow light. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of Rafe’s body heat on your skin. It’s as though having a witness has shrunk the inches between your figures; you step away quickly, feel him do so in tandem, and try to act normal whilst feeling the exact opposite.

The ignition quietens, and your father climbs out of his car with subtle surprise etching his features.

“Mr Y/L/N!” Rafe exclaims, plastering on that charming smile of his. Effortlessly—like it’s nothing. Your heart pulls again. “How’re you doing?”

“Rafe,” he acknowledges, raising his eyebrows. Not unpleasantly; he just isn’t sure what to make of the pair of you outside of an Academy setting. “What brings you here?”

“I was just leaving,” he answers swiftly, shoving his hands into his front pockets. “I… uh, Mrs Y/L/N was kind enough to invite me inside for dinner.”

“Ah.” Your father’s eyes dart to you, searching for an explanation. “Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Rafe shakes his head in response, turning toward you and beginning to walk down the porch steps backwards. “I’ll, uh,” he sounds more breathless speaking to you than he does your father, his heady gaze softening as it falls over you in paces, “I’ll see you later?”

“At the next meeting, yeah,” you answer with a nod, trying to sound nonchalant. (Failing miserably.)

He pivots on his heels and slides his keys out of his front pocket, his heart doing this odd little lurch as the distance between the pair of you increases. His skin burns despite the Autumn chill, the phantom of your touch still pressed into his torso.

Don’t turn back, he thinks. He hears your father’s footsteps ascend the porch, hears your front door open and close after you greet him. He doesn’t see the knowing look he shoots you, nor does he hear the flustered waver in your timbre. Or the way your gaze lingers on his figure. When he sits down in the driver’s seat and does catch a glimpse of his reflection in his rearview mirror, all he can see is the same mouth that should’ve tasted you by now. He closes his eyes, and all he sees is your pretty face looking up at him, blurred around the edges.

—

You’re doing a good job at being normal about it all.

Too good a job, it seems; two weeks on from your porch-side rendezvous, it appears as though Rafe Cameron has resigned himself to his apparent fate—that he’s never going to be able to call you his.

How do you know? You’ve returned to professional pleasantries sans any playful teasing—sans any lingering glances or too-close proximity, the unbearable tension between you notwithstanding.

And the worst part of it all, you’re quickly realising, is that it’s based on a fate that’s very obviously untrue. Because the thing is, you do feel something for him, try as you might to vehemently deny it. And you know that it’s selfish, hoping he keeps pursuing you despite shutting it down already, but there’s this part of you that wants him to want you despite it all.

Again, if only you knew.

Rafe Cameron’s favourite deflection tactic is moving on far too fast.

“Any other notices?” You ask, looking out over the room-full of tired prefects in front of you.

Dalton raises his arm, the rolled sleeve of his uniform shirt pulled taut. You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical about the merit of his announcement. “Notices that aren’t just party invitations,” you add, sending him a stern glare.

Dalton grins roguishly, lifting his other arm in surrender. “Third one this year you haven’t attended, Y/L/N. Where’s your team building spirit?”

You roll your eyes, your gaze darting to Rafe momentarily, a knee-jerk response. Usually, this is where he’d jump in and interject. Recently, however, it feels as though he’s more afraid of the consequences of a possible imposition.

It makes your undeserving pulse lurch, your lips pulling down into a frown without meaning to. “You know what, Haynes,” you say after a beat, looking back toward him. “You’re right. When’s the party?”

Rafe falters, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Dalton’s too busy looking pleased to notice this reception, and he pushes back against his rickety chair, balancing it on its hind-legs. “Tonight,” he answers, flashing you another grin. A muscle in Rafe’s jaw ticks. “At mine. Cameron’ll get you the addy, won’t you brother?”

A beat. When Rafe doesn’t respond right away, you look up at him expectantly, your brow furrowing at the odd expression on his face—almost strained.

Your heart flounders.

You begin overthinking the invitation and your subsequent acceptance; why did you assume he’d want you there, anyway, at a party with all of his friends in the middle of his affluent neighbourhood? What were you trying to achieve by agreeing to go to it, some non-Academy time to solidify all this awkwardness?

Besides, you’d never fit in with a crowd like theirs, not without his Rafe Cameron charm as a buffer.

“Yeah, course,” he answers after pause, an unreadable emotion flashing across his blue irises. If you’re being honest with yourself, it looks dangerously close to reluctance. You resist the urge to grimace.

“Alright,” you say, clearing your throat awkwardly. “If that was all, we’ll lock in another meeting for the same time next month.”

A murmur of assent moves over the room, punctuated by the clamour of backpack zips and car keys jangling. You hesitate before retrieving your own laptop and placing it into your tote, Rafe’s imposing figure still frozen in place beside you.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s going through his own, exhausting turmoil of emotions. They start and end with you, the way they always do; almost kiss turned rejection or not, he’s pretty sure that your implacability in his mind is inevitable.

He’s pretty sure he’s actually fucking fucked, all things considered. (Read: wants you so badly it genuinely hurts sometimes.) Sure, the risks that come with being together may overcomplicate this whole head student thing, but not doing so is torturing him enough to render this a mute point.

Because, really, when have you ever accepted an invitation to one of his parties? Of all the absolute douchebags that make up your graduating class, why did you have to settle for someone as mediocre as Dalton fucking Haynes?

“…Cameron?”

It’s the third time you’ve said his name, just loud enough to break his reverie. He blinks a few times, glancing down at you. “Yeah?”

“Listen,” you say, frowning a little. “If I’ve… uh, I don’t know,” you pause, wincing, “overstepped, or something…”

There’s this slight, guilty inflection to your tone, and it makes Rafe feel worse, as if that was fucking possible. “Are you kidding?” He asks, shaking his head and plastering on a grin. “Of course not. I’ve been trying to get you to one of these parties for months!”

Your frown acquiesces a smidge, and you look up at him, your wide eyes messing with his brain. “I just mean… they’re your friends, and I know they never actually expect me to come to any of these things —”

“No, you should come,” he interrupts. “Get to know everyone. The girls. The boys,” he raises his eyebrows in what he hopes is a playful jibe, “Dalt.”

You lift your own in surprise, making to shake your head. “I’m not —”

“He lives at the end of the Strand Street cul-de-sac, super close to my house,” he interrupts again. “D’you need a ride there?”

And very far away from your own, as Rafe already knows. You try not to read into the fact that he’s willing to go out of his way to pick you up.

“I’ll be okay,” you respond slowly. “Listen, Cameron, I’m not trying to —”

“I’ll look out for you, yeah?” He says then, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially. You’re close enough for his elbow to nudge yours as he does so, shifting a jolt of static through your bones. “Be your wing-man or something.”

You’re unsure what to make of his insistence, so you pause, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully. Maybe he’s already forgotten about the same almost that’s plaguing you; maybe this is his gentle way of telling you he’s over it. Or maybe, and your mouth goes dry as you consider it, he’s moved in with someone else and doesn’t want you feeling awkward about the fact that you haven’t.

He’s sweet when he wants to be, you think.

“Alright,” you say finally, forcing a smile.

He throws his backpack over one shoulder, jogging backward toward the door. “No bailing last minute, Y/L/N.”

He’s gone before you know it, disappearing around the corner and no doubt catching up with his football posse. Your smile fades. It isn’t lost on you that this is the first meeting after which he hasn’t offered you a ride home.

—

Dalton Haynes lives in a magnificent palazzo in the heart of the Eight, its polished glass windows aglow with technicolor lights. The sharp edges are bordered by a cloudless sky, sunset orange transforming into deeper plum.

From the heavy bass reverberating through the air as you near, it’s clear that the party is already in full swing.

“Y/L/N!” Dalton exclaims, joined by Kelce on the front porch. “Look at you! You made it!”

You smile bashfully, clearly a little out of your depth, allowing him to pull you into a side-hug once you’re at an arm’s length. “I made it,” you agree, nodding at the pair of them. “Everyone else inside?”

Kelce raises his eyebrows, sharing a knowing look with Dalton before grinning roguishly. “Cameron’s inside, yeah,” he answer, taking a generous pull of his half-empty beer. Beads of condensation roll down the aluminium can ominously. “But I think you need a drink in your hand before you start mingling.”

“Uh,” you hold out your empty hands expectantly, “bit difficult considering I didn’t actually bring any.”

“No biggie,” Dalton answers good-naturedly, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “What d’you usually drink Y/L/N? I’m sure we can find something you’d like in the fridge.”

“Usually?” You echo diffidently, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. You aren’t sure you’ve done enough underage drinking to justify a predisposition to any sort of liquor—the odd, too-warm beer at a bonfire, a glass of moderately priced champagne if you’re at a celebration. A Mai Tai, once, at that exclusive PTA dinner at the Island Club last year.

With Rafe. And the rest of the association, of course, but it’s Rafe you remember, in his tailored suit and polished dress shoes.

Rafe, with the glinting cuff-links and generous wad of cash redeemable for fancy drinks and bar-staff compliance. Rafe, with the charming grin and really really distracting biceps. Aftershave, vetiver, and the saccharine scent of orgeat syrup. You didn’t realise, until just now, how much of him you remember from that first night as head students.

“Yeah,” Dalton prompts, retrieving his arm from your shoulder to pull open the fridge and peer inside. He’s led you down the hallway and into the busy kitchen, his large house suffused by varyingly familiar upperclassmen. “We’ve got some of my sister’s leftover White Claws, half a bottle of Sav, three of those Mai Tai drinks, oh — and a few cans of my beer, which you’re absolutely welcome to but I assume that you aren’t a big Budweiser girl yourself.”

“Mai Tai’ll do,” you answer, “thank you.”

“Easy,” he nods, handing one over before closing the fridge and straightening. He clinks the rim of his can against yours, making a noise of approval when you hiss it open. “The head girl at a party,” he says, grinning as he tips back his beer to take a sip. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

You roll your eyes, sending him a faux-glare. “You make me sound like such a fucking bore.”

“Not my intention,” he answers, raising his arms in surrender. “You just intimidate the living Hell out of me, and this laidback environment tends to take the edge of that a bit.”

You let out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. “If you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you say, turning to face the living room. You lean against the kitchen island in front of you as you survey the scene, the smooth marble like glacial lava on your forearms. And your gaze moves over the scene absentmindedly, a fact that isn’t lost on Dalton. It’s as if you’re trying to find someone in secret—catch a glimpse of their figure and then pretend that you didn’t.

He leans forward in tandem, taking another pull of his beer. “Oh, I’d never dream of flattering Cameron’s girl without his permission.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you face whipping around to face him. “I’m not —”

“Oh, sure, maybe not right now,” he allows, raising his eyebrows. “But I think it’s pretty obvious you’re the reason that he’s been flirting with Leighton all evening, don’t you think?”

“Leighton?” You echo, frowning slightly. “Where’s —”

Dalton places his hands on your shoulders firmly, pivoting you on your heel so that you’re facing the kitchen window. It overlooks one side of his wraparound deck, and in amongst the ruckus, Rafe is standing too close to the girl named Leighton. She’s undeniably beautiful, all glowing limbs and cheeks that are rosied by the chill. And a hand on Rafe’s—your Rafe’s—bicep.

You blink. There’s an unfair wrench in your gut. Suddenly, the fact that you didn’t almost kiss him when you had the chance feels like a cruel twist of fate, entirely unbearable. He’s already moved on, the way you predicted that he would, but the vindication of being right doesn’t feel nearly as good as it should.

This isn’t his fault, you have to remind yourself. But that doesn’t matter, the nagging voice screams, seeing him with someone else still hurts like a bitch. Granted, a wholly unjustified bitch, seeing as you’re the one that insisted you keep this professional. You blink again. Her hand’s still abutted in all it’s manicured glory, on his stupid broad bicep as though it belongs there.

“Oh,” is all you say.

Dalton frowns. “Dude, did you hear anything I just said? The only reason he’s even talking to her is because of you.”

“You don’t know that,” you answer, forcibly peeling your gaze away from him. “Besides, nothing even happened between us.”

“That’s the point,” Dalton urges, sending you an assessing look. “Better an oops than a what if, right?”

You shrug helplessly, your gaze moving back toward Rafe without meaning to. He’s smiling down at the girl named Leighton, this real, genuine grin that makes you honest-to-God ache, and another ugly bout of jealousy sears through your ribcage, forcing you to resign yourself to your fate.

“Except,” you say finally, turning away from the kitchen window, “that there wasn’t ever a what if in the picture to begin with.” You pull away from the smooth marble countertop, making for the yawning stairwell before looking back expectantly. “What’re you waiting for, Haynes? You going to give me a tour of this place or what?”

—

The tour, whilst a useful way to pass time, fails to distract you from the envious turn of your stomach. It feels as though every window you peer through allows a crystal-clear view of Rafe Cameron and his latest conquest—his figure too-close to hers, his elbow nudging her slim waist, her pretty hand on his bicep, on his shoulder, ever-present.

“You need a top-up?” Dalton asks, pointing his can at yours questioningly. You’re halfway down the stairwell and fast approaching the kitchen, the burnt ochre hue of sunset transforming a deeper velvet.

You tip back your Mai Tai for its dregs, nodding in response.

“Y/N?”

He doesn’t use your first name very often. His gravelly timbre tends to oscillate between your surname and whatever pet-name he’s in the mood for; less so after you made it clear that it irks you.

If only he knew.

He’s thought about you a pathetic amount tonight. Where you are, when you’ll arrive, how he’ll play it cool when you’re with Dalton (fucking Haynes) despite wanting to die inside. And now, it feels as though his worst fears are manifesting before his eyes—gorgeous you in a singlet and jeans with a slice of waist exposed, with maddening spaghetti straps made of almost see-through material. With pretty eyes, prettier cheeks, glossy lips that he knows smell like peach. (And feel like satin, and taste like something illegal; taste like the absolute fucking death of him.)

If it isn’t already obvious, Rafe Cameron is spiralling. He doesn’t do that very often—ever.

As you complete your descent of the stairwell, he runs his fingers through his hair, drawing your attention to his taut biceps and strong forearms.

“Oh, hey!” You exclaim, a little sheepish. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”

“Been here the whole time Y/L/N,” he responds evenly, his gaze darting to Dalton beside you. Less even, now. “How long’ve you been here?”

“Not long,” Dalton supplies, moving past him post-descent. “Just gave her a little tour of the humble abode.” He turns to back toward you expectantly. “Another Mai Tai, head girl?”

“You can go now, Haynes,” Rafe says, not bothering to look back at him.

Dalton raises his eyebrows at Rafe over his shoulder. “You’ll grab her the drink?”

Rafe ignores him, and you frown, evidently bemused by his unfriendly reception. “I’ll grab it myself Dalt,” you say, raising your empty can in farewell. “Thanks for keeping my company!”

He sends you a mock salute in response, and you swear there’s an imperceptible wink thrown in too. You frown harder, a question, but he’s too busy disappearing into the hallway to particularly notice it.

“So,” Rafe begins. A pause. “You and Haynes, huh?”

You look up at him, your pretty brow furrowed. “Did you guys get into a fight or something? Because this morning —”

“Yeah. Over you.”

You falter. “Me?”

Rafe sighs languidly, raking his fingers through his hair again. It prompts his figure an inch closer to yours, the scent of his musk and vetiver aftershave rendering your poor insides jelly. “Why didn’t you come find me when you got here, Y/L/N?”

“You were with a girl!” You protest. “I didn’t… I don’t know, you were busy.”

“You came to his party,” he continues slowly, his voice low, “I’ve invited you to so fucking many and his is the one that you finally attend.”

“For you, you idiot!” You exclaim, and then you falter, grimacing abashedly. “I mean,” you sigh, “I… I don’t know, I was sick of things being awkward.”

A pause. An unreadable emotion flickers over Rafe’s blue irises, and he takes a small step forward, caging you into the stairwell bannister. “For me?” He asks, his heady gaze trained on your features.

“Besides,” you continue, choosing to ignore him. “You — you were teasing me about the invitation, going on about how you’d play wing-man when I’m with Dalt.”

He raises his eyebrows. “‘Dalt’, huh?”

“You called him that,” you defend, “Not me. And — and you were with some other girl when I arrived —”

“Leighton’s a family friend,” he interrupts, inching closer still to rest his arm on the rounded newel at your side. His bicep on your shoulder now, a body-heat wall of muscle. “She was telling me about the college guy she’s seeing.”

You swallow. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Rafe agrees.

A beat. You can hear the steady thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the music and party clamour like long forgotten white noise. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, breaking eye contact.

Rafe frowns. “For?”

“I know you didn’t want me to come tonight.”

Another beat. When he doesn’t respond—argue with you—right away, you feel your stomach drop, your unsure gaze moving back up to him.

His once-blue irises have given way to dilated pupils. You swallow again.

“True,” he murmurs finally, his voice rough.

“Because this is your crowd,” you explain unnecessarily, talking faster, “not mine. And your friend’s the one that’s hosting. And there’s no real reason for me to be here except you, but our relationship’s supposed to be strictly professional and I’m the one that’s been harping on about —”

“Because,” Rafe interrupts firmly, his calloused palm find the contour of your jaw and pulling you closer. “Not kissing you two weeks ago was hard enough as is.” He ducks his head to eye-level, his nose brushing over yours gently. “And I don’t think I have it in me to control myself any more.”

You inhale in surprise, your lips parting slightly. “That sounds complicated,” you murmur.

“So fucking complicated,” he agrees lowly, his spearmint-and-beer breath fanning over your warm cheeks. Your lashes flutter. “Christ Y/N,” you can feel his lips ghosting over yours, now, “will you let me in complicate it some more?”

You may lean in first, but Rafe leans in harder. His free palm finds your waist and presses you against the stairwell bannister, torso to torso with enough conviction to bruise a little, your figure like putty in his hands. And his mouth is all youthful and rough, infused by Budweiser, his warm tongue moving over yours with desperation. Like he doesn’t fucking believe any of this is happening—doesn’t believe how soft your skin feels, how sweet your lips taste, how wretchedly he wants to feel more of you, all of you.

His hand slips underneath your singlet to knead the bare skin he finds there, his bruised lips dragging along your chin to your jaw. “Complicated fucking neck,” he mutters gruffly, pressing teeth-scraping kisses along your throat. His hand slides down to the curve of your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “And shit, don’t get me started on how much these jeans are over-complicating everything.”

“Says you,” you gasp, your arms circling his neck to allow your fingers free reign on his hair. “Your hair’s cuter when it’s a little damp like this, y’know that?”

Rafe groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder in faux-defeat. “Compliments. Complicated.”

“No compliments,” you say as he lifts his head again, smiling. “Noted.”

“No talking,” Rafe agrees. He leans in again, pressing his lips to yours, hard. “Just kissing.”

“Kissing, huh?”

The voice makes the pair of you freeze, spring apart in tandem. Standing at the end of the hallway, a condensation-shiny Mai Tai in hand and triumphant grin on his face, Dalton Haynes’ knowing gaze is trained on your figures. “Please,” he adds then, raising his arms in surrender and beginning to walk backward, “don’t stop on my account.”

He disappears around the corner, and you turn back to Rafe, noticeably chagrined. Shit, you think, mostly because you want to kiss him again. You’re totally fucking fucked.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

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iluvies · 10 months

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don’t you like placing the star on the tree?

pairings: satoru x reader

summary: if your clingy boyfriend asks you if you could both put the christmas tree up, nothing could go wrong, right?

christmas is finally a few weeks away. . . after a month of listening to satoru’s complaints.

“can we put the christmas tree up now?” he asked, pinching and poking your cheeks to get your attention.

satoru’s been overexcited the past few days, saying something along the lines of ‘i can feel the christmas spirit!’ which you’d roll your eyes (ignoring the part where you’d been singing christmas songs with him since october) at. lately, all he’s talking about are the matching pyjamas you’ll both be wearing, making gingerbread houses, baking cookies for santa—cookies that he said he’ll eat just in case they’re inedible, and putting the christmas tree up.

“in a moment,” you murmured, tongue poking past your lips slightly as you scroll through the various christmas songs in your playlist, “i’m just choosing a christmas song to play.”

a large grin tugs at his lips, opening his mouth as if to say something before you cut him off.

“no, i’m not playing ‘be my baby’. you played it several times last month. besides, it’s not even a christmas song.”

satoru’s smile fell into a pout, moving to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat in need of attention. “but. . . why not?” he asked defeatedly, resting his weight against you. did he not hear a single word you just said? a small laugh falls from your lips, planting a sweet kiss to his pouty lips in an attempt to stop his small tantrum. his eyes lit up as he chuckled lowly, leaning in for another kiss.

“i’ll play put the playlist on shuffle, okay?” you murmured softly against his lips, “then we can put the christmas tree up and decorate it.”

satoru nods, happily placing a wet kiss to your neck before walking off down the hall to find it. after you pressed shuffle on the christmas playlist that satoru somehow convinced you, you needed, there were a series of frustrated groans coming from down the hallway.

“if i just do this, nope— baby!” the voice called, followed by a loud thump and a small whine.

your eyebrows furrow. it’s barely been three minutes and satoru’s already gone and probably knocked something over. . . or so you thought. you quickly make your way over to the hallway just to find satoru on the ground wrapped in christmas lights with a box of ornaments beside him, his face flat against the floor while grumbling a few curses. a smile tugs at your lips as you crouch down and brush some hair out of his face.

“satoru, the lights are supposed to go on the tree, not you.” you said, an amused look on your face. satoru manages to lift his head, enough to catch a glimpse of your face. “i know that.” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

you feign a sympathetic expression, “doesn’t look like it, toru. we haven’t even put the christmas tree up yet.”

he pouted and tried sitting up, giving you a pleading look that said ‘please help me’. laughing under your breath, you began untangling some of the christmas lights that were tightly wrapped around his legs. “do i even want to ask what happened this time?” you asked, glancing up at him. “you’ll make fun of me for it. . .” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder while you tugged some of the lights off from around him.

“probably.”

“you’re so mean!” satoru whined as you helped him stand up, his arms and torso still wrapped in christmas lights. “you still love me, don’t you?” you said with a grin, kissing his cheek before bending down to reach for something in the ornament box. “of course i do— what are you doing, baby?” he asked with a faint smile, watching as you grabbed the star tree topper and held it on top of his head.

“guess you’ll be my christmas tree this year, toru.” you chuckled, leaning forward and kissing his lips. “guess i will be.” satoru laughed, returning the kiss.

#luvie’s archive .ᐟ ⊹ ࣪ ˖#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff

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michealwilliams11 · 2 months

Text

My Loving Bodyguard pt.3

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

Summary: If only you knew....

[Not proofread]

You were discharged from the hospital, and Sam took you home. Tara had already left and stayed at home or left with Chad or Mindy.

You truly didn't mind, as long as you don't get a full-on 'speech' about your own health. The next day, you took Bailey's phone and went to a friend's place.

You parked your car and took the brown bag before leaving the car. You waved to some people nearby before turning to a record shop.

When you entered, a bell dinged, making your presence clear. An old man turned at the counter and smiled. "Y/N! Long time no see."

You chuckled and put down the brown bag on the counter. "How are you, Frank?" Frank adjusted his glasses and looked inside the bag.

"I'm doing great now that you finally visited." You chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about that. Tara has been keeping up on my feet." Frank shook his head and put the bag somewhere else.

"Thanks for the medication. I was running out." You only shook your head and started to walk to the staff room. "Flash here?" You scanned the dusty record store.

"Yeah! Busy on some phones." You only nodded and went into the staff room. A woman with a tank top and tattoos smiled at you and nodded to another door.

"Thanks." You muttered under your breath before knocking on the door. "Come in!" A gruff voice said and you opened it to find your best friend, Flash.

The man turned with a cigarette in his mouth. "The fuck ye doin here?" He asked, taking the cigarette. "Not even a hello? Ouch, Flash." Th man rolled his eyes and went back to fixing a phone.

"Ye only come here for fixin so get to talkin." He said, putting the cigarette. "I don't want to talk here." You greeted the two women who were on his bed probably naked under the sheets.

"Fine." Flash grumbled under his breath as he wore a tank top. You nodded and glanced around the messy and cramped room. "Where's Timmy?"

Flash scoffed. "He's name ain't Timmy, it's Tom. And he's at school." You only nodded, and the two of you soon left the store.

You threw some fries at Flash, who chuckled lowly. The man, in response, took the fries and ate them. The two of you were currently driving back to Tom's school to pick him up.

You parked the car and waited for the bell to ring for it to signal that school was over. Flash took out a cig and soon started doing his thing.

After 5 minutes of waiting, the bell rang, and children walked out of the school. You left the car and waited out for Tom.

Soon, you saw a bundle of blonde hair that was running to you. "Y/N!" You huffed when the 6 year old crushed you in a hug.

"Hey bud!" You said, picking him up and taking him to the car. "Whatcha doing here?" He asked, playing with your hair. "Nothing much, wanted to see my bestie."

Tom chuckled in response and went inside the car. You got in as well. "How do you feel about dinner with pops and me?" Tom smiled and shrieked.

Flash rolled his eyes at the boy but smiled either way. "Yeah!" Both you and Tom shouted and you went on Spotify for some songs.

You were driving to their house when Finesse [Bruno Mars & Cardi] started to play, and Tom's favorite part started to play.

"Sing it to me, Timmy." You vibed with him, and Flash only took out another cigarette. It's a good thing he rolled down a window as well.

Soon, you guys made to the apartment. You piggy backed Tom into the apartment, and you were currently sitting and eating door dash that Flash ordered.

Tom rambled about his day and a close friend, Alex. A boy he met recently today at soccer practice. You and Flash only nodded along. Soon, Tom was knocked out on the couch with Paw Patrol playing on the TV.

You and Flash stood at the balcony with cigarettes in both your mouths. "So, he attacked her an' she killed 'im?" You nodded and inhaled some smoke.

"She is on tough son of a bitch." Flash says with a huge grin and you chuckle at him. Okay, I'll do it then." He grabs the phone from you before you nod and soon leave the apartment.

You were currently passed out on the couch. You still had your suit fully on when your phone suddenly rang. You shot up and answered it.

"Hello?" You asked, rubbing your eyes. "Y/N, someone threw a molotov cocktail at the building. I need ye help." You didn't waste time as you shot up and wore your shoes before dashing out the apartment.

Your car screeched as you pulled to a stop. Outside was Flash's store in flames. You left the car and ran to Tom who was watching the flamed with worry.

"Buddy, where's dad?" You asked. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs when Tom pointed a shaky finger to the flames.

"Flash?" You muttered under your breath as if he would come. You heard abrupt coughing and squinted your eyes to see Flash under a board in the store.

You took your jacket off before dashing to the store. But before your foot even hit the ground, you were blown away. Your head hit the ground and you winced.

Small cries and sobs were heard from Tom. You sat up and looked at the store to see that the flames were much bigger. Screams rang out as you watched Flash's skin turn dark.

You joined Tom in his compilation of sobs and cries. You tried reaching out, but you were pulled back. You looked behind you to see Tara there with messy hair as she shook her head.

You couldn't do anything. You sobbed even harder. Your friend, brother, and the first man that ever cared for you. Gone. In the flames.

You looked to your left to see a can on fuel. This was planned. Flash was supposed to die. He was part of someone's plan.

You searched the street and froze when you caught Ghostface staring at you. He held a shotgun up, and he pointed to you. Your hand reached for your gun before you shot a bullet.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #gn reader #male reader #female reader

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puhmpken · 7 months

Text

this has BEEN edited 🥳🎉

Author’s Note: this may be silly, but i have nagging myself to write this one 😭😭 hope yall like it <33

Warning ⚠️-> none! enjoy ☺️

Title: Hell’s GreatestDadParents !

Alastor X You OneShot

written + edited by @puhmpkins-blog 🎃

W/C: 1.8 K 🥱 not sm this time around

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with tension. You sat perched on the edge of the queen-sized bed, your arms crossed. The fabric of your knee-length dress rustled as you shifted–avoiding eye contact with a certain red-haired demon who stood in the doorway.

“Unfair, Al,” You muttered, your voice ringing out lowly.

Alastor’s response was swift, his tone unwavering. “Dearie, not everything I want you to do will be fair. Just listen and do as you’re told.” His footsteps echoed as he closed the distance, bold strides carrying him toward you. His tuxedo jacket was impeccably tailored, and he adjusted the sleeves with a flick of his wrist.

“I need you to come to the hotel with me,” Alastor continued, his crimson eyes piercing. “Help me persuade the princess to listen to me more.” His fist clenched, and a surge of green energy erupted from his palm. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded.

His smile was unsettling, a blend of charm and menace. “Excellent, dear,” Alastor murmured.

Your smile stretched as Lucifer's eyed you–He recognized you.

Charlie’s cheerful introduction echoed in the room, and you gracefully stood, leaving the bar behind.

“And this is Alastor's wife! (Y/n)” Charlie said happily

Your hand extended toward Lucifer,

“Lucifer,” you greeted, your voice a velvet whisper. “Long time no see, old friend.”

As your fingers brushed his, the chandelier above swayed, then plummeted, shattering into shards. Lucifer flinched, his gaze darting to the wreckage. But your smile only widened, revealing your sharp teeth.

Retracting your hand, you moved past him, joining Alastor’s side.

Lucifer bangs covered his eyes, his smile bared his teeth as he fist clenched on his staff

“haha..alrighty then” He said lowly

The blare of a trumpet was heard making you put your ears down

“Looks like you could use some help” Lucifer said swiping his cane in the air making Alastor and You dodge it, as he moved Charlie away from the both of you

“From the Big Boss of Hell himself!

Check out Daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp”

Mini little puppets appeared around Charlie, you kept your arms crossed watching him sing about the same thing he always does..the things he could promise

“Who needs buspeople?” he asks, snapping his finger. The scenery morphed, reality bending to his whims.

You, now changed, were in a crisp standard waitress outfit, balancing a silver platter on one hand as Charlie sat beside your standing figure.

Standing at Charlie other-side was Alastor, he was in a server outfit pouring red wine into a chalet for Charlie

Lucifer’s voice cut through the air

“Now that you got the chef!”

The ground shifted below you before Alastor and you plummeted into a colossal frying pan. The impact jarred your bones, but you landed on your back—luckier than Alastor, who fell face-first, his ears pinning back in probably discomfort

The scene shifted, reality bending like a mirage.

You groaned, your normal size restored. Revenge simmered within you;surely you had to get him back for him messing around with you..?

Lucifer’s pitch lacked conviction. His promises were half-hearted.

(f/c) swirls manifested around you–Both you and Alastor vanished, then reappeared before Lucifer, neon colors exploding from your very essence as he finished his song note

Slinging an arm around Lucifer, you feigned warmth, as if about to embrace him. But instead, you pushed him toward Alastor

“Who’s been here since day 1?” Alastor sang to Charlie, catching Lucifer. The red demon’s smile, as he shoved Lucifer aside and out of the way

You manifested on Charlie's side, you clouded her vision from seeing Alastor shove her father with your mock nun attire that clung to your curves perfectly it caught her attention, you held your hands in a mock prayer

“Who’s been faithful as a nun?” you asked, raising an eyebrow leaning towards her smiling.

Red theater curtains swirled around and engulfed the both of you–before swiping open, the curtain revealing a big stage bathed in warm light. You and Alastor both stood at its center, the spotlight capturing every move.

“Who makes you chuckle with an old timey pun?” You questioned out hip bumping Alastor as you waved your finger back and forth shutting one eye as you looked up to a smiling Charlie who was seating in the audience. Her smile was radiant. She leaned forward, caught in the theatrical magic.

You and Alastor materialized on opposite sides of her, your voices harmonizing.

“Your executive producer~!”

Elbowing her playfully as Alastor wrapped a arm around her, Charlie’s laughter echoed, and the scene shifted seamlessly.

“That’s true!” Charlie exclaimed, glancing from Alastor to you.

“He’s your guy!” You said appearing as a small shoulder angel infront of Charlie’s face “Your day-to-day!”Another little angel version of you winked. “Your chum!” Another version of you butted-in moving the first two a bit to the side as it pointed to Alastor

The scene shifted to the three of you guys working the front desk behind a busy hotel lobby “Your steadfast hotelier~!” You said as guests hurried by, their requests and complaints blending into a cacophony.

“Why, remember when he fixed that clog today?” you said raising a eyebrow before putting your hand to your chin. Alastor, sleeves rolled up, as he pulled Nifty out of a stubborn toilet. The cyclops grateful voice echoed as a once clogged toilet started to flush

“I was stuck! Thank you, sir,” Nifty had exclaimed. Alastor, still holding Nifty, patted her head with a smirk as you mirrored it, watching Charlie with her close eye smile.

“Oh you” She replied holding her cheek

Alastor stepped forward, spinning Charlie with practiced ease.

“I am truly honored that we built such a bond” Alastor said looking at Charlie from now on top the staircases as neon faces of them lit up

“Aww” Charlie replied

You appeared on Charlie's side leaning in, one hand on Charlie’s shoulders, sincerity in your eyes. “You’re like the child we wished we had,” you sang, your voice a gentle lullaby.

“Uhhh, what?”Lucifer’s voice interrupted from below the set of stairs.

Your eyes shot to him with a flash of a smirk spreading on your face for him to see and disappearing, did you strike a nerve?

Seating yourself at the edge of a bed, you looked down at a tucked-in Charlie. Alastor stood beside you, his hand on your shoulder. Together, you painted the picture of an unconventional loving family—the perfect family picture for Lucifer to have ingrained in his head.

“We care for you just like a daughter we spawned,” you said, patting Charlie’s head. Her eyes closed, as she relaxed into the makeshift embrace.

But Lucifer’s protest echoed. “Hold on NOW!” he shouted, disrupting the scene. You grabbed Charlie’s arm, pulling her out of bed. Spinning her, you cheered on her dance moves, and Alastor’s amused voice joined the chorus.

“Its little funny” You heard Alastor say— “You can almost say were your” Alastor’s voice trailed off as he grabbed both Charlie and you, spinning you both with one arm. He positioned you next to his side, placing Charlie in front of both of you. “Parentsssss,” he drawled, dragging out the word. His wicked gaze turned toward Lucifer, and you mirrored his smile, snapping your head to Lucifer before returning to your regular expression looking at Charlie

Suddenly you heard the noise of a violin playing..you looked to Lucifer seeing him play a golden one rather aggressively towards Alastor and you

You raised your eyebrow looking at Lucifer, as he was taking bold strides towards the both of you, before he got too close, a piano materialized in front of you as you heard your husband voice cut through the air

“Take it away dear!” Seating down, cracking your knuckles. Your fingers danced across the keys, and you shut your eyes, lost in the music–focus on upstaging Lucifer

Playing the last key, the final note harmony was shattered–you cringed at the noise you were hearing. It sound like a instrument being crushed, your shoulders tensed to the loud sharp noise–your deer ears flickering back and forth in annoyance. You peered your head over your shoulders too see Lucifer with squinted eyes and the purposely crush instrument above his head. As you squinted back, the lights around both of you flickered before shutting off completely.

Thinking the little singing battle was over you heard, a rhythmic beat filling the air.

“They say when you’re looking for assistants,” Alastor began, as large books started to descend onto Charlie’s back as she struggled to keep them up

“It’s smart to pick the path of less-,” you continued for Alastor, as both your figures manifested tendrils from the ground

As Alastor and you sang out

“Resistances~!”

As the tendrils thickened before lifting the heavy books off of Charlie back with ease

Lucifer interjected, “Others say in your needy hour. There’s no substitute for pure–angelic–POWER!!!.” With a spread of his wings, he flew briefly before landing near Charlie with a crazed look, gripping his staff tightly

“Whose is also your blood!”

As Lucifer approached Charlie closely, you stepped between them, easily grabbing her attention.

“Sadly there are times where a birth parent” As both Charlie and you appeared in a higher location looked down on Lucifer as you did a thumbs down motion “Are a dud” A trap door beneath him swung open, sending him plummeting into a black void.

“They say the family you choose” Alastor said appearing on Charlie’s otherside as little images of Angel, Nifty, Husk and Sir Pentious appeared around you three “Are often better!”

“What a bunch of,” Lucifer interjected, popping up and shoving Alastor aside with his staff.

“LOSERS!”

You watched standing next to Charlie as Alastor hip bumped Lucifer “Can you butt out of my song?” He questioned watching Lucifer stumble forward

“Your song?!” Lucifer countered, walking back towards Alastor and standing on his tiptoes, pointing at himself. “I started this!”

“I’ll finish it,” Alastor quickly replied, leaning down towards Lucifer as they both bumped heads, their razor-sharp teeth bared, growling like wild animals.

“OH! YOu tacky, piece of SHI–”Lucifer’s sentence was cut short as the door suddenly burst open.

Alastor and Lucifer both pausing their yelling at one another as they both turned their heads to the noise..really everyone did

A small but recognizable figure appeared at the door, prompting an internal eye roll from you.

“It’s me!” she sang out, wagging her finger and bouncing her hip. “Yes, it’s me! I know you were all waiting for me!” Confetti flew as if from thin air.

“It’s ME!” she exclaimed, now on the second floor, jumping from the railing and landing on her knees, sliding a bit on the floor. “MIMZYYY!” she proclaimed, taking in some big breaths after her energetic entrance.

“Who?” Lucifer asked after a moment, confusion written all over his face as he raised one eyebrow.

FIN!!!

Extra! Extra!

No extra is available this time around! Tune in next time for extras! :))

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melanirana · 2 months

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On the topic of singer!reader x bartender!dca

I could not help but notice, their apartament has a balcony so hear me out:

Seranading under the balcony, climbing on the balcony, just any and all romantic and unnesesearly dramatic usage of balcony

What is your opinion?

Pretty sure you accepted a short little answer but here.

Have this instead.

Cw: suggestive towards the end

For a high-status club you expected more.

You are currently stuck in your flat due to no fault of your own. The door simply refuses to budge. You tried pushing, shoving and even throwing some of your own weight against it, but still nothing. You are completely stuck in your own flat.

Looks like you’ll be stuck here till the morning and some more time after that. Ringing the phone won't help, everyone is asleep. Even the street outside the building is empty, not a soul in sight.

The open balcony door lets cold winter air into your apartment, with shivering feet you grab your bathrobe to throw over your shoulders before going to close the door. The thick fake fur wraps around you and you let out a sigh as the robe warms your shivering form. For good measure, you slip into your most fluffiest pair of house shoes before heading for the balcony again.

The soft light from inside illuminates the balcony in beautiful colors. When you step out onto the balcony you feel like you're in the middle of a stage play. One of those really romantic ones.

And this is the cliché romantic balcony scene where the two hopelessly in love protagonists, who can't show their love to each other because fate just won’t have it, confess their undying love for each other.

So cliché, so romantic, so dreamy and so up your alley.

To that comes the bonus that you are just ever so helplessly stuck in a tour, even if it is your own apartment.

Now all you’re missing is a handsome knight.

And fate is kind to you, at last.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your handsome knight. Not dressed in his black suit but a simple white dress shirt, held up by suspenders. He emerges from the side of the building, probably just having thrown away some trash.

The blue nightcap on his head gently sways as he walks.

You lean over the railing of your balcony in the most coy position you can muster in this cold and wave your hand as if you were holding a handkerchief.

“Oh, Oh hello you handsome man~” you sing-song down at him. Moon's face snaps up to you and a devious smile spreads across it.

“Well, look how here, up so late with nothing better to do than cat-call a poor by passer. ”Moon’s gravelly voice travels easily in the crisp winter air. Yur spine tingles at the sound of his voice.

“Do you think that lowly of me? I am hurt.” You rest your head on your hands as you smile down at the animatronic.

Moon turns to fully face you. “Maybe I could change my mind.” He crosses his arms. “If only someone were to think of something original and not repeating words of someone else.” Ahh~ the three of you and your little challenges, you’ll never grow tired of this.

“Oh, but my dear nightlight I am afraid no words a truly mine.” You say in a dreamy voice. The little nickname seems to do its purpose, if the way Moon shifts his weight on his feet is anything to go off of.

“And don’t you think repeating can be something beautiful? After all, the moon stands high in the sky. Yet here you are outshining it with ease.” You are to sleep-deprived for shame, you are winning this challenge. And win you do.

Moons metal cheeks turn a hot orange before he turns his head away, you are pretty sure that if you stood right next to him the sound of his fans would be deafening.

You relish in the sight, but not for too long as a cold breeze whips past you and sends a shudder down your spine. Moon notices.

“Why are you outside? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You can still see a hint of orange in his face.

“Well, you see. I’m kind of trapped. My door is somehow stuck and I can't get out, I have been trying to get it open but nothing works.” Another shudder runs through your body.

Moon thinks for a second, then a devilish smile crosses his face as he speaks.

“If I free you of your predicament, what is my reward?” The way you can hear the smile in his voice makes you weak.

“Anything you desire, my dear knight.” Now you’re the one with warm cheeks.

“Anything I desire you say.” His voice is as dangerous as it is delicious.

“Anything you desire.” You confirm.

Moon scans the side of the building before he approaches it, and with an almost scary efficiency climbs it. You barely have time to blink before two large metal hands wrap around your balcony railing.

You take a step back in surprise, the speed at which Moon scales the building is almost frightening.

In one smooth motion, Moon lifts himself above the railing and climbs over it before coming to a stop right in front of you. His tall form casts a shadow over you. Your face grows hotter but not in an effort to fight the cold.

“I think I’ll take my prize now.” Moon purrs.

“You haven’t opened my door yet.” Your rebuke is weak even in your own ears.

“The climb was quite the effort.” Moon grins. ‘Sure it was’ you think to yourself.

Gentle fingers grip your chin and angel your face upward so you look Moon in the eyes. He leans forward and plants a cool metal kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes and lean into the gentle affection.

When you don’t move to push him or lean away Moon continues. Moving down to kiss your reddened cheeks, plant kisses along your jawline before making his way down to the crock of your neck.

Suddenly you don’t mind the door being shut for just a little bit longer.

did that answer you question? I like to think it did :}

#a Tune and a Drink #fnaf au #fnaf moon #moon x reader #moon x y/n #daycare attendant fnaf #fnaf sun and moon #ask me

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