#some of these are repeats sorry!! I tried to come up with some different stuff
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pretend-you-never-saw-me · 2 years ago
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So, uh… I remember you mentioning Lee!Hex and I was wondering… Could you spare some HCs?
Moooore Lee!hex headcanons? Oh it’s my pleasure haha!
I’ve said before I don’t think his feet would be ticklish- but I do think his ankles would be! His joints are more delicate parts, so of course they’d all be ticklish.
His worst spot my be his antenna, but his second worst spots are in the little seams that connect his casing together, mainly the big one right down the middle of his stomach! You can hear his laughter get worse and worse the closer you get to a seam~
He’s very squirmy but he tries not to thrash because he (kinda) knows his own strength and doesn’t want to hurt his ler. He’ll flap his hands and wiggle a lot, but no actual fighting
He also won’t playfully object- he takes most things literally, including himself. If someone is tickling him and he doesn’t want them to actually stop, he won’t tell them no or stop! Even if it’s instinctive, he’ll purposefully stop himself
He’s not embarrassed by the fact he’s ticklish, and if you give him the infamous “are you ticklish” he will proudly and naively give a yes, and that he enjoys it :) he does not know the fate that awaits him
He’s already giggly and smiley just generally, but I think his casual laugh is very controlled and almost “fake” sounding, even when he does find something actually amusing. When he’s tickled however, his laugh is the bubbliest, squeakiest giggles ever! He’s kind of embarrassed by his laugh, he worries it’s annoying, but it’s really not
Absolutely DIES to gentle fluffy teasing if you call him silly or cute he’s SELF-DESTRUCTING INSTANTLY. Well not really but he’s gonna melt under you
Okayyy I’ve talked enough there you go- we satisfied? /lhj
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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago
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(I think I’ve written something like this before but… oh well!)
Steve and Eddie don’t really remember becoming friends.
Sure, they know they must’ve bonded during the Upside Down shit and the aftermath with the series of tests they went through together at Hawkins lab because they didn’t want a repeat of the Will situation.
But they can’t pin point a moment when they started talking to each other as if they weren’t just mutual acquaintances who went through the same hell and shared the same love for Dustin. And the strangest part about it all was that it felt easy.
And here Steve is, sitting in Eddie room, flipping through a magazine he had laying next to his bed, asking question about random things in it just to hear Eddie voice. Plus, he liked all the random information he contained. It kind of reminded him of Dustin, but Eddie was always able to put it into the simplest terms so he could grasp what he was talking about.
But today, Eddie seems somewhat distracted. As if something big is on his mind. And Steve knows that it’s consuming him when he doesn’t answer or acknowledge one of the questions Steve asks about Ozzy.
Steve glances to his right and sees Eddie staring off twirling a silver ring over and over while he chews on his bottom lip. “Eddie,” Steve tries.
Eddie snaps out of it, teeth releasing his bottom lip which is now more plump and red than usual. His hands drop to his thighs as he shoots Steve an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was off in my own world.”
“What were you think about?”
Eddie shakes his head and leans back against the wall, pulling his hair in front of his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Steve continues to stare at him, shifting his knee so it presses against Eddie’s. “You can talk to me, you know?”
Eddie nods but doesn’t look at him. He looks far off again.
But Steve respects his wishes and doesn’t press further. He turns back to the magazine and continues reading on.
“I kissed someone in the Hideout bathroom recently,” Eddie says suddenly.
Steve slowly puts the magazine down and turns to him. “Someone?” Steve prompts gently. Eddie had told him before when they were in matching hospital gowns that he had feelings for men in the past and maybe women too. But he wasn’t sure. He confided in Steve that he didn’t see himself ever dating anyone at the time - didn’t think anyone would want to.
“Some guy,” Eddie answers and sighs, dragging his hands over this face. “I don’t know. It was weird because usually guys want more from me, you know? Especially if they’re dragging me off to the bathroom. But…” Eddie trails off, lost in thought again before he turns to Steve and locks eyes with him. “We didn’t do anything. We just kissed a little, and suddenly he told me he’d see me later. Just winked and ran off. But I can’t tell if he just chickened out or if maybe… maybe this is more than that.”
Steve takes a second to process everything, trying to connect the puzzle pieces of this mystery man to come up with an answer, but he knows there’s a bias within him. He wants so badly for the man to want more from Eddie. For him to want to take it slow and ask him out on a date.
But… a small (big) part of him, which he’s unwilling to admit, wants to find that the man chickened out.
Steve does what he always does and takes the feeling and stuffs it down along with all the other feelings he struggles to hide.
He distracts himself by asking, “And what was the kiss before like?” Which is a horrible question when jealously is practically pulsing through his veins.
Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t really tell the difference between passion and lust.” He looks down and quietly adds, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a kiss that wasn’t lustful.”
The statement fills Steve with a deep ache that he wants to file away with everything else. He wants to be detached from this all, but he can’t.
“Why don’t you show me?” Steve asks.
Eddie laughs. “I’m not going to make out with my hand or something.”
“No,” Steve says clearly, and doesn’t back down. “I mean, why don’t you show me.”
Eddie stares at him, the humor disappearing from his face as it’s replaced by disbelief. “You want me to kiss you?”
The question rings true in way too many ways, but Steve just shrugs nonchalantly. “It’ll help me understand the situation more.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before he licks his lips, eyes searching Steve’s then dipping down to stare at his lips.
Steve wishes he could read that expression. Is there longing there? Curiosity? Boredom? Nothing but unenthused wonder? Lust? Passion?
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “We can do that if you’re okay with that.”
He’s more than okay with that. Steve nods. “Yeah.” He wishes more words would come out, but maybe it’s better this way.
Eddie jostles the bed as he stands up. Steve looks up at him and his outstretched hand, frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Recreating the scene.”
Steve accepts the explanation and lets Eddie pull him up. He follows him out of his room and into the small hallway.
Eddie gestures to the door and says, “So pretend that’s the bathroom door, okay? I’ll be the guy, and you’ll be me.”
Steve nods, heart already pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears.
Eddie glances at him and lays a gentle hand on his arm. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I can just try to explain it or embarrass myself making out with my hand or a pillow or something.”
Steve smiles and reassures him, “I’m good. As long as you’re good.”
Eddie nods at him once and turns toward the door hesitating before turning back to Steve. “Can I ask you something weird?”
Steve shrugs. “Sure.”
“Can I kiss you before this whole thing? Just as a warm up before I stick my tongue in your mouth.”
Steve laughs and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Okay,” Eddie says with a small smile and inches closer to him, hands fidgeting nervously at his side.
Steve grabs them and runs his thumbs over the back of Eddie’s hands, squeezing them gently. He steps forward, hands trailing up his arms, his neck, cupping his face gently. “This okay?” Steve practically whispers.
Eddie nods and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, leaning forward, eyes fluttering shut.
Steve takes a stabilizing breath before pulling Eddie in, letting his eyes close as his lips brush against Eddie’s, pressing in closer in a gentle kiss before they both pull away.
They stare at each other, eyes wide, not knowing what to say. But Steve’s too scared to say anything when he knows he’s going to sound breathless from a mere peck.
“Ready to recreate the kiss?” Eddie asks, moving away from him and breaking the moment.
All Steve can do is nod and remind himself what this is all about.
Eddie shoots him an awkward thumbs up before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door, pushing it open and closing it behind them only to press Steve against it.
Steve can’t help the moan that’s ripped out of him at the sensation. But Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him, harder than before, almost instantly deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue against Steve in filthy strokes. His hands move through Steve’s hair wildly, pulling him in closer, and tugging at the strands, making Steve practically a puddle of goo in the process.
God, he feels like he can’t breathe in the best way.
His hands come up to press into Eddie back, trying to get him to move closer, to successfully pin him fully against the door, but Eddie keeps his distance. Pulling away from the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before stepping back completely.
Steve breathes heavily, staring at Eddie’s pupils blown wide, the pink flush to his cheeks, and the glossy look to his lips that Steve can’t help but think is all his doing.
“Well?” Eddie asks.
Steve tries to latch onto the words in his brain floating around. They seem entirely unimportant in this moment, but Steve knows he has a question to answer. A reason he’s doing all of this.
He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the wild strands, wishing he hadn’t messed with it before he got a chance to look at himself. He takes a deep breath and ignores the way he feels and focuses on the question at hand. “It felt more like lust to me.”
Eddie’s face crumples for a moment before he hides it behind his hand. He scrubs them over his face before he laughs humorlessly. “Figures. Jesus H. Christ, I should know by now.”
Steve’s mind lingers on what Eddie said before. “And what if you had a way to know?”
Eddie shakes his head, confused. “What do you mean?”
Steve tries again. “Like, what if you had a measure to know the difference between lust and lo- passion.” Steve silently curses the slip up, hoping Eddie doesn’t notice.
But the other boy just frowns and crosses his arms. “Now how would I do that?”
“The same thing again, only I show you what it’s like on the other side of things.”
Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before inching closer. “You want to do that?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies instantly. “You of all people deserve to know.”
Eddie glances at the ground and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”
Steve’s heart breaks, wondering if he’ll be able to show him what he truly means to him. He slowly tilts up Eddie’s chin and takes a step closer, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He lets his hand linger before resting it against Eddie’s jaw, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “You do,” Steve says, looking him in the eyes to show him the truth in what he’s saying.
“Steve…” Eddie says as if it’s a plea and simultaneously a disagreement.
And Steve answers him by leaning in and kissing him again. It’s like their first kiss shared in the hall moment earlier, but Steve doesn’t let it be a warm up this time. His left hand presses against Eddie’s back, pulling him in as close as he can. His other hand makes it way into Eddie’s hair, intertwining in the strands as he pulls away to breathe before reangling and kissing him again.
Eddie’s hand comes up to the back of his neck, grounding Steve as his lips move against Eddie’s slowly but firmly. They pull away for a moment, letting their breath intermingle as they catch it before they both move together again.
He lets Eddie learn what it’s like to take his time, enjoy the slowness and linger in the moment. To be held close and gently caressed.
Steve’s hand trails down from Eddie’s hair, tracing the same pathway from earlier but backwards, down his neck, his arms, and to his hands, intertwining their fingers together.
Eddie gasps lightly into the kiss as Steve squeezes his hand, and takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, letting Eddie explore rather than take.
Steve’s not sure how long they stand there, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, lingering in every moment. Breaking away momentarily to catch their breath before swooping back in, not letting the moment end. Because once it ends, they may never come back to it.
The thought hits Steve, drenching his thoughts with painful clarity. This is the moment everything he’s tried so hard to push down finally all comes up. No turning back now.
He pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. He pants out his name quietly when Eddie tries to kiss him again.
He seems to understand, moving to rest his forehead against Steve’s before squeezing his eyes shut. Their hands remain intertwined.
Neither of them say a word, not wanting to break the moment or face reality.
But a question lays heavy on Steve’s mind.
“I don’t think it matters about what the kiss with the guy felt like. What matters is how did you feel during it?”
Eddie shakes his head and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Steve…”
“Eddie…”
Eddie takes a deep breath and whispers into the shared air between them, “Nothing close to what I just felt.”
Steve slowly pulls away and looks Eddie in the eye. “Are you sure?”
“Christ, Steve. No one has ever made me feel the way you just did.”
Steve pauses and asks, “What about other than that kiss? Do I make you feel like that all the time?”
Eddie’s hand loosens it grip as he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t make me answer that, man.”
He’s stopped when Steve’s grip tightens, trying to keep him close. “You make me feel that way all the time,” Steve says, hoping he didn’t ruin everything they’ve built up to.
Eddie steps closer and cups his face. “You promise?”
Steve nods. “Yes.”
“Thank god. I was about to silently pine for the rest of my life. Shit,” Eddie says with a laugh.
Steve smiles, a laugh escaping from him as joy fills his entire body. “Yeah?”
“I was a fucking goner as soon as you kissed me the first time,” Eddie says.
Steve laughs, “I already was way before then.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “You’re telling me I could’ve had this sooner?”
It’s seems like Steve’s incapable of doing anything but laugh.
“Steeeeve Harrington, we have so much lost time to make up for,” Eddie says, stepping closer.
“Tell me about it,” Steve says, moving in to kiss Eddie again.
He hopes eventually Eddie will forget what it was like to only know lust filled kisses, but, for now, he settles on helping him learn about passion and love.
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sl4sh3rsub · 1 year ago
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art the clown hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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art the clown x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: so so much. unhygienic behaviour, p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), creampies, fingering (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), dubious consent + cnc (with art), noncon (with [sometimes intoxicated] victims + art, not with reader), art is mute, reader is put on display and used as bait for art's activities, art makes his own snuff?? idk but there's sexual stuff with dead bodies + art in the same vicinity, masturbation, blood kink but lots of blood in general, gore, mentions of injury and giving injury (not on reader), public sex/exhibitionism, oral (giving + receiving), rimming (giving), period sex, cumrag, sexual photographs taken of/for reader, art goes commando, scarification, art is a switch - if only to commit to the bit, fear play (empty guns, dull knives), bondage (reader receiving), cum eating, somnophilia, shoe humping, cum tributes, feet stuff mentioned, musk kink, corruption kink mentioned?, mtf section mentions art performing an orchiectomy
a/n: kinda edited. he's so nine inch nails/orgy coded and the movies are so scary that i chickened out rewatching parts of terrifier 2 pls forgive me :3 the first dot point is to set the mood, sorry but it gets right into it
READ THE WARNINGS this one's very intense - please, if you think this might be too much for you or just uncomfortable, skip this one.
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
art will put on a home video of him torturing and toying with someone while you're held between his legs - he wants to have a fun little viewing party for his recent exploits! he toys with your hole, teasing you as his cock ruts into your lower back. the sinister clown ignores the thrashing of your legs as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of your poor, tired body. the only time he lets up, giving a break from his constant stimulation on your sweet spots, is when he pauses to mimic a wave or jolly dance in the video he's showing you. the way your slick arousal thins and connects his fingers whenever he waves at the screen would be comical if your head wasn't so fuzzy from the constant edging. he loves tormenting people but the methods for you are a bit more... delicious
whenever he comes home injured, he patiently sits propped against a wall as you tend to his weeping wounds. judging by the ripped clown suit and gashes littering his skin, it was evidently a rough night. he doesn't bother to tell you that he will heal at abnormally fast speeds, he just loves the sight of his blood smeared on your skin. while you bandage art up, the gauze ends up giving him more coverage than his shredded suit - he meets your gaze with a sly grin as he thrusts up into your hand, showing what he has to offer. you'll have to ignore the drying blood all over the two of you, as he rushes to pull your face into of his lap to let out some pent-up energy :<
he's always so playful whenever you both get down and dirty, whether it's pulling surprised expressions whenever you cum, dragging his finger down from your lips to your throat to shush you or flick your nipples only to giggle at your surprised face
if art is not in the mood to trudge home alone after a rampage, he'll text you an address to meet him at. to no one's surprise, it's always a laundromat. he loves to fuck you in the empty establishments while his clothing is in a washing cycle - after all, it would be rude to get your clothing dirty while he's taking you from behind over a dryer. he pays extra attention to getting off and finishing inside you as a way to wind down from a wild time, his creamy release dripping onto the floor. guess you'll have to bust out the mop on shaky legs while art cheerily dresses himself and patiently waits for you on the bench next to the window - he can't help but admire his special person and be proud of how he made them come undone
his favourite way to wake up is to have his throbbing cock in your mouth, his gaze half-lidded as you work your hand along his length and envelop him with your soft lips. art is addicted to you sloppily gagging on him, spit and precum drooling down his balls. his huffs of pleasure gracing your ears are the sweetest part of any early morning
whenever you finish giving art head, kiss his tip softly after swallowing, making sure to slurp up his cum from dribbling down his shaft and he'll trace a heart on your forehead with your tears from gagging on him. if you meet his gaze as you catch your breath, he'll quietly shush and tut at you in reassurance while you rest your cheek against his bare thigh, petting your hair
the clown likes to play a game where he captures male victims he's focused on, strips them down, then ties them up in a row and gags them. he makes them watch as he pleasures you in front of them, spread on display as he mocks them and their tears, all while you come undone on his cock and fingers. he punishes the one that gets hard first (away from you, of course - he drags the guy to the next room to deal with later). art puts you on display in front of the remaining men, dons a shitty wig and red lipstick then slowly jerks off the softest person as they gradually get more aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself and moaning for art to fuck you. art is overall most turned on by other people watching you without touching what's his - he loves showing you off and feeling proud that they could never pleasure you like he could :3
art fucks you against the windows of buildings he's snuck into - he loves giving an eyeful for his potential victims and he's not above tempting them into the building he's camped out in with the false promise of joining in
he has certain hand signals for you to bend over, drop your pants or get on your knees. it's not in an intimidating dominant way, it's simply out of necessity as he cannot verbally order you to do anything in the bedroom
your pleasure is not the priority all the time - art's main goal is for him to feel good, however he may realise that certain things make you squeeze his cock perfectly and as a result, your orgasms are a coincidental byproduct of his lust
art is a sucker for being balls deep inside you when he cums but he also enjoys painting your sloppy hole - an excellent view, plus there's so much to scoop up and finger deep back inside you
whenever he cums, art's tummy tenses and his thighs spasm as his eyes roll backwards. his chest shudders as his breathing gets shaky, needing to grab onto something to steady himself. his cum itself is generally thick but whenever you remind him to drink water, it'll get very thin and watery. it's important to note, his cum colour fluctuates between a regular milk colour and pitch black goop
art the clown freeballs in his satin costume, just hangin out for the sake of convenience and simplicity - if he's needing to piss, rub one out or get undressed to sleep, why should underwear be in the way? he's an absolute pervert, so he loves you seeing his dick whenever you look at him
force him have a shower - not even a bath, the water would get dirty too quick. caked layers of metallic blood and dirt don't help anyone's general scent and if he's around you a lot, you don't want a smelly clown trailing you and in your general vicinity
he wanders around naked after he takes a hot shower, when his costume is drying and his painted neck is waiting to be properly touched up. expect to see his bare dick twitch while you stare in shock, mouth hanging open at his blatant lack of shame in his nudity. the same thing applies to whenever the clown suit has a hole in it - at this point it's any excuse to be in the nude and flaunting his body around, the tapered tip of his cock always pulsing under your bashful eye
art carves his name into you - or something like 'art was here', 'art's art' or 'art's toy' - but you get to choose where! in his mind, it's like a collaborative effort :<
he's addicted to your warmth and tightness, so be ready to have his pasty cock buried in you whenever there's nothing to do. he'll pull you onto his lap while bunched up and all tense, pull down your underwear and spit on his length, slowly sliding into you as his muscles release all tension. he's practically a limp puddle once he's deep inside - he's comfortable enough to nap like this and will cuddle you until you feel the same way. the bastard will occasionally toot his horn to scare you into clenching around his softly throbbing dick
his love language is physical touch - his hand is always hovering near your hip, ass or lower back and he pats your cheek or kisses your temple if you've been good, petting your hair as you doze off next to him. his version on an 'i love you' is a warm palm cupping your face as he intertwines his body with yours, your muscles relaxing as you lean into his heat
the clown always, always leaves deep bites and bruises all over your body. prepare to have painkillers at every single meal, because he makes sure you're aching and bleeding when he's done with you after a rough day
as he doesn't make you participate in his meals of flesh and rubbish, expect to have his victim's homecooked leftovers, as well as pizza and other take-out regularly - all with a little extra salty glaze ontop <3 he's a romantic after all and still wants a small part of him inside you no matter what, that way you're never really lonely - his warmth settling in your tummy and also leaking from between your legs
art marks up your neck with his tongue and nails, leaving crescent moons and maroon roses etched into your skin like a morbid necklace. although he's not happy that you don't heal abnormally fast like he does, your shudders as his cold nails trail over your tender flesh spark a warmth within his gut and a glint in his eye
art chokes you so often that his hand is practically your necklace. he likes the control he's able to exercise subtly with a squeeze of his fingers and you don't mind the comforting pressure of his thumb skimming over your pulse. be sure to wash his gloves often thought - whenever you drool or have given him head and his hand then takes its place around your throat, the remnants of the fluids often soak into the material clinging to his palms. eventually, it'll make his skin tacky with dried cum and spit, stuck to the threadbare gloves
his guilty pleasure is having you ride him and take control, with zero regard for accidentally overstimulating him - sure he could breed you of his own volition, in his own time, but he's your toy in that moment with no control. the coincidental creampie being fucked deeper and deeper in you makes a shiver run down his spine. he's willing to be a pliable doll for you to mould into a quiet fuck toy to play with. be sure to hold art close and comfort him after you take control and he'll do the same back after he's been rough
art gets his hands on incredibly dull knives and empty guns with no magazine, especially pistols, and brings them into your sexual life. he loves the fear in your eyes as he trails the blades down your chest, tracing your nipples and thighs but the clown is especially turned on by making you suck the barrel of a gun - pretty eyes glittering in panic and arousal. he makes a game of rigging a shotgun with tripwires - if you shift too much while he trails his tongue down your body or thrash as he makes you cum on his face, the threat of the trigger being pulled gives you a rush of adrenaline that makes your eyes roll back, vision fading white. his gun fixation is not limited to just that - some other ideas he's been cooking up include you being fucked by a dead cop's handgun while humping his clown shoe, as well as you christening each new weapon he creates during his tinkering sessions
if he's desperate to jerk off, he'll do it wherever - ready to get it over with even if he ends up rubbing one out next to a dead body or in the middle of a public park. if he returns to you with dirty gloves and semen drying on the wrist, don't ask what happened because his mimed description of events is never pleasant
art sits on your face and gets off with his fist while you fuck him with your tongue, lapping at his hole. he tosses his head back and pants very softly, thighs trembling as he grinds himself on your face - bonus points if you let him pull back and fuck your mouth with his cock for a bit before returning to suffocate you between his asscheeks
he loves licking your skin everywhere. absolutely everywhere. he loves the taste of your salty sweat and warmth, feeling powerful having your pulse race under his tongue. if you fuck him, stuff your fingers in his mouth and his eyes will roll back in his skull
art suspends you with chains and rope, teasing you until you're begging to be fucked. his deft fingers trace your curves and edges, flicking and pinching your nipples, inner thighs and ass as he manically grins with a clear cock print in the front of his suit. he only maneuvers you to take his cock once you're dripping spit, tears and arousal onto the cold floor and screaming for him
as art knows you belong to him, sharing you with another man gets him going like nothing else - he'll eiffel tower you with a restrained captive, urging you to choke on the stranger's hardening dick as he fucks you so deep you're gasping for air and seeing stars. what's gonna happen, the guy survives? fuck no, he's already practically giftwrapped at death's doorstep just from becoming art's captive. why not make the last few hours of his life enjoyable and more than fulfilling - if the poor sod is willing, you could even keep him for a night or two as a pet
if you have genital, nipple piercings or even a septum done, art will dangle a little bell from each hoop. it immediately brightens his day to hear the little jingles whenever you're bouncing on his dick and he can't resist flicking them to make you jolt or smacking your ass whenever you walk near him just to hear the sweet soft tinkle under your loose clothing
art cleans up each basement/house he temporarily stays in, with a designated bed to fit the two of you and ensures there's a bathroom and basic laundry attached for your comfort - he notices you tend to avoid his being in his proximity whenever he gets too smelly. he may also move in with you for bouts of time - provided you have the space - but also camps out at his usual haunts and drags you along to hang out with him! the poor clown hates being lonely :(
he might go on a walk with you and toy with you - he gets off on watching you panic as he whips his dick out in public and gestures for you to kiss it, rub your face over it and worship him, hard or not. the control he holds over you and the headrush of power, combined with your submissive gaze aimed up at him, makes his growing affection and attachment towards you grow stronger
he brings you human organs and shitty handwritten poems - 'here's a heart but i wanna be the one pumping inside of you <:o)' or 'i could call you this esophagus the way you swallowed me so well last night >:)'
he has a collection of picture frames in his hideout because he takes photos of you and sticks them in nice frames - who needs playboy magazines when he can make tributes to you? you can tell which one is his favourite, with the crusty sludge stuck to the glass and wood protecting the flimsy picture
art definitely wants a footjob every now and then, every once in a while. it means he can tie up your hands while you get him off AND he still has two hands to play with you - a win win situation all around. he's not really into it strictly because it's feet, he just gets off on the thought of corrupting you more with such a taboo action
he has a love-hate relationship with piss too - he loves to have you obediently under him as he showers you with piss and cum, corrupting you a little more each time he marks you with his smell, but he hates because it masks your natural scent which is one of the few things that makes his head spin
if you get anxious or restless, he always has a cold body nearby.. oh you want something warmer? feel free to suckle on his soft cock or his sac while you cuddle his leg and fidget with the cloth of his pantleg
although he's gotten a lot better at regulating his personal hygiene since you met him, he doesn't always clean himself up - the musky and tangy stench of blood, sweat and grime permeates his suit until he scrubs clean
art loves it when you do filthy things for his pleasure, like sniffing his armpits while humping him or rimming him with his sweaty balls resting on your nose, making your brain go dumb
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
whenever art is thinking about being away for a few days to camp out at a certain location, he'll grab himself a clean rag and dedicate an entire night to getting you to cum on the cloth as many times as possible. it wouldn't be a pair of underwear from either of you - he hates wearing any type of clothing under the suit, even if it's your cum stained boxers - so it'd have to be a ripped piece of cloth from an old clown outfit. he'll jack you off and fuck you while holding it over your tip and even gag on your cock until the flimsy material is coated and probably permanently stained in your spend. he just wants a keepsake for the road and why not make it imbued with memories of the two of you enjoying yourselves? his own little cumrag to remember what he has back home, something special to return to!
art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting
art craves the sensation of you throbbing under his tongue, the feeling of your pulse as you leak your pleasure all over his lips and the heavy musky taste slips down his throat
he'll get you a cute, sparkly plastic ring from a gachapon machine down at the arcade and fake proposes to you! later in the week, he'll break into a sex shop and bring home a matching cock ring (he's a romantic)
art has an obsession with your balls - nipping at them, having them slap against his chin or nose bridge as he messily takes as much as he can down his throat, you name it. expect greasepaint at the base of your cock and staining your pubes
he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck
if he's on top and riding, he'll put all his weight into choking you while he bounces up and down on your cock, eyes glinting with pride at your gasped thanks whenever he pulls you back from the brink of unconsciousness
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
art is obsessed with you whenever it's 'that time of the month' - you can barely get away from his wandering hands and quiet presence. he drops everything the moment you reach for your favourite snacks and heat pack, drags over a dark towel he keeps on hand for you. ever since he learnt that orgasms help relieve cramps and pain, he has felt a lot less selfish for wanting to ravage you while you're tender and bleeding. he has numerous photos of his bloodied cock framed by your ass cheeks or your warm cunt and he often takes videos on your phone of his length throbbing and oozing copious amounts of pink cum <3
art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your puffy pussy imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, still slick despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole, soaking the fabric
art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and pussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting
art pretends to talk and communicate with your cunt - acting out gestures as if holding a conversation with your clit while slowly coaxing you to cum and even gesturing at you to shush if you try to interrupt the important moment
eats devours pussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your clit and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. greasepaint might stain your thighs afterwards but it's a small price to pay for a talented clown's best efforts
art will find pretty lingerie for you to wear for him, parading around his hideout, making sure you know how hard he gets at your nipples and pussy covered delicately in lace
he flicks and circles your clit while you sleep, cumming all over your pussy before putting your panties back in place. he loves leaving little presents like that for you when you wake - a fuzzy head and a sticky and throbbing mess down there, strings and globs of cum connecting your thighs and the flimsy, soaked material
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
art has never had a handsome toy with a self-lubricating hole before - his fascination with your t-dick leads to endless nights of him experimenting on you with his mouth, fingers and cock to see what makes you tick. his favourite pastime is suckling on your tender dick while he pulses his fingers against your cervix, your whole body jerking from sensitivity as his deft fingers circle your sweet spots
art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and boypussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting
he keeps a pair of your slick-stained boxers in his ol' bag of tricks, a little keepsake for his on-the-go orgasms - he's a sniffer for sure, securing it over his face so both his hands are free to use on his dick as he gets off to your scent
he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck
eats devours boypussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your cock and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. you both tiredly giggle after he's done - the face paint around his cheeks and lips is hopelessly smudged, especially after he licks his lips and grins at you. guess he'll have to redo it later, no harm done <3
he fucks you so hard and bruises your cervix to the point where you can only moan his name and whine when he properly pulls out and gives you water with a heatpack and blanket, genuinely scared he went too rough on your insides. if your legs fail after such a long night, he'll throw you over his shoulder or pick you up like royalty and use his inhuman strength to carry you around
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
art the clown is thrilled to have a pretty toy with parts he's familiar with! his fingers nudge your prostate as he suckles on your tip to draw out your sweet noises. he takes you down his throat with ease, tongue lapping at your base - the combination of art's deft fingers working your hole and his hot throat clenching your length brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast. he's always had a thing for seeing his black lip paint smeared on your balls
art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your bulge imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, slick from your precum drooling and sticking to the fabric despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole
he insists on battering your prostate until you're shooting blanks - he never lets up on your poor hole until you're fully spent and your head is empty with only his name on your pretty lips
art will ask you to be bait for him - either through dressing up prettily and then stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge, chest and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting
he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck
the clown loves to have you dolled up in lingerie and parading infront of him, bulge and hard nipple pressed against the soft and dainty fabric. his cock gets visibly hard at the sight of you and his head spins at the sensation as you shyly offer to help with his urge to take you then and there
if you're desperate for gender-affirming surgery, art will hone his skills in surgery and sterilization to safely give you an orchiectomy - pun intended. he'll practice and go through the motions for weeks if it means you are happy and he gets to care for you
_ _ _ _ _
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it, i'm writing this at 5am. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
_ _ _ _ _
@stonerinthelonlycorner
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Text
Third In Line
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Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 10: Anal
Summary: Steven's a little frustrated at being third.
A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!
Warnings: kissing, swearing, a bit fo showing off, anal(afab! receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 1123
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It was petty really. Steven knew it was.
But he just couldn’t help himself, couldn’t let go of it, couldn’t stop the thought from burrowing in and festering. 
It would jump to the forefront of his mind every now and then, dancing disgustingly for his attention. He tried not to let it bother him. He really did. 
Because it was petty. Childish. Trivial. Insignificant. 
And still it caught on his mind like a constant hangnail. 
Marc had been the first to kiss you, taste you, feel the pleasure of your mouth. That was fine.
Jake had been the first to sleep with you, to wake up in the morning with you naked in his arms. That was fine too.
Steven had been the first to meet you. He tried to console himself with that, knew it was so stupid to even care about who did what first and when. Especially when you kissed him and held him and loved him just as much.
But still. It got under his skin. 
He had let it slip by accident. Mainly grumbling to himself as he moved some of Marc’s fantasy baseball notes out of his way. He had his own desk to leave his stuff on. And you’d heard, just caught the tail end. 
His face had burned with enough intensity when you’d questioned him that for a not so brief moment, he seriously considered just opening the lid of Gus’s tank and shoving his head in there. 
It would have certainly changed the direction of the conversation at least. 
Instead, however, he simply repeated his mumbles as quickly and quietly as he could while looking at his hands. It was silly. It was stupid. He shouldn’t be jealous. You’d think he was an idiot-
You smiled mischievously. “Well, there is something I haven’t done with either of them that we could do?” 
Steven’s gulp had been audible. 
And that’s how it had started.
You hadn’t done anal before. 
It had taken a little bit of forethought and planning, using toys even before Steven was able to get the smallest of his thick fingers inside of you. Working over a few weeks until he was satisfied that he wouldn’t hurt you. (You’d been more than willing for him to try in half the time.) 
But now that he was inside you, all his previous thoughts and worries had turned into liquid mush. 
You were face down, ass up on the bed, clutching one pillow to your chest while two others propped up your hips. 
Steven groaned, biting his teeth together to try to keep a hold on himself. “You okay, love?” His voice was strained, breaking at the end. 
You nod, wiggling a little as he bottoms out. “Yes.” 
He huffs through his nose as you move, a small whispered “fuck,” slipping passed his lips.
“Does it feel okay?” 
“It feels bloody marvellous, I,” he groans again, cutting himself off as he pulls out a fraction and then slides back in. “How does it feel for you?” 
“Full,” you moan softly as he moves. It’s a different sensation, heavy in the base of your spine. But his cock seems to push from the inside, rubbing against your vaginal wall and pressing your hips into the pillow. 
With every pull and push your clit draaags against the cotton, twisting the knot of pleasure tighter and tighter in your stomach. 
“But good.” You moan and Steven gulps. 
He keeps his hands on your hips, rocking gently, moving out slightly further with each thrust. 
He’d buried his face between your legs for what felt like hours beforehand, teasing and teasing until you were right on the edge and practically begging him, with tears in your eyes, to let you come. 
Not that he did. But you’d both agreed on that before you’d started.
Slick gushed from your core, mixing with the copious amounts of lube Steven had used. It trickled down and pooled onto the pillow below you. 
You moan, you’re so highly strung, so close to coming it is almost painful. 
“Steven, please.” 
He picks up his pace slightly. Not enough. “I don’t want to hurt you, love.” He tries to keep his voice even, calm, normal. But he’s so close to losing control and rutting into you like a wild animal. 
You arch your back, rocking to meet his thrusts a little harder.
“Fuck.” He swallows, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so, so good. I…” He bites his lip as you squeeze around him. “Tha-thank you for letting me.” His voice raises at the end, his eyes half closed as he starts to let his body overpower his mind. 
You moan, practically drowning in pleasure as he thrusts, still so carefully, but firmer this time. Your clit throbs as it rubs deliciously on the pillow, the sensations rupturing through you as pleasure assaults you from both sides. 
“I’m gonna,” you manage to sob, “Steven, you can let them see.”
He groans, leaning forward a fraction and having to brace one hand on the mattress as he bucks faster, nearing his peak. “Fuck, thank you, thank you,” he kisses your shoulder, nipping lightly at your neck. 
Swears fall out of your mouth, punched from your lips with every thrust. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, burning as liquid heat spreads higher and higher. 
Steven manages to pull at the back of his mind, hooking into their shared space just enough to raise Marc and Jake’s attention. 
‘What’s wrong?’ ‘You okay?’
It takes them a moment to catch up. 
‘Fuck.’ Jake’s voice echoes close to Steven’s ear as Marc groans.
“Steven,” You whine, your muscles tensing, rocking back onto his throbbing cock with all the strength you have. “Please!”
‘Fuck.’ ‘Shit.’
A small smile tugs at Steven’s lips, he lets them watch, lets them feel the ghost of sensation. And then your sharp cry overtakes any other thought, you squeeze around him, so tight he is blinded by it. 
Pleasure snaps through you, pulling you down and swallowing you whole. You come hard, moaning his name until your throat is hoarse and your release is soaking into the pillowcase. 
Steven groans, snaps his hips once before he follows and comes into the condom with a long drawn-out sigh. 
His muscles turn to jelly, and he eases himself out of you and then lays down by your side. 
Steven kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzle close and kiss him back.
‘You two can piss off now.’ 
‘Steven-’ ‘Fucking rude-’ ‘You’re a little shit, you know that?’ ‘Did this on purpose-’ ‘Showing off-’ ‘I want to-’ 
But then both politely fade back when you look up and stroke his face, smiling.
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itsnevercasual · 7 months ago
Note
clarisse x reader where y/n had been noticing clarisse like getting distant( like not holding her hand for more then 4 seconds just small stuff that only y/n notices😭) and then the day percy breaks her spear she's mad and y/n trys calming her down but clarisse just yells at her about how clingy she is and to leave her alone and basically she regrets it and apologizes multiple times and after like a week y/n forgives her and it's cute (I NEEDDDD THE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLS I HATE WHEN SHE FORGIVES HER EASILY)
I Miss You, I'm Sorry
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pairing: clarisse x apollo!reader
summary: clarisse is distant and cold, and y/n is officially done.
warnings: none?? i don't think?
-
you'd been with clarisse for around three years now. at first, a lot of people were confused. clarisse was, essentially, one big ball of anger, and you were a ball of sunshine. after a while, though, it made sense. you balanced each other out. plus, clarisse was a lot softer with you.
but recently, clarisse had been acting different. ever since percy jackson came to camp, actually. she was a lot more angry. and perhaps it was because you'd welcomed him to camp and generally tried to be nice to him. you couldn't help it, he reminded you of your brother, who had a mortal dad and stayed at home with your mom.
when you'd sneak to the ares table during meals, she'd hardly acknowledge you. when you tried to hold her hand, she'd let you, for all of six seconds. you weren't sure why. you hadn't done anything to personally anger her, had you?
you must have. because even as the two of you got ready for capture the flag, she ignored you.
"hey, claire?" you said, turning to her. you were just about the only one she let give her a nickname, and you'd settled on claire. "can you help me with my armor? i think it's crooked."
"you can do it yourself, i'm sure."
you frowned. she'd usually jump at the opportunity to help you- to touch you, to breathe the same air as you.
what did you do wrong?
you had one of your siblings fix it for you.
-
luke had outrun you with the flag when you heard a scream from the beach. you recognized it.
"clarisse!" you shouted, bolting towards the sound.
when you got there, you saw clarisse sitting before percy, her broken spear between them.
you ran to her side and helped her up as the other team began celebrating their win.
"claire, i am so sorry about your spear. we-- i can fix it! or i can have one of the athena kids do it! someone should know how, right? probably. yeah, we'll have them fix it, and it'll be-"
"can you just leave me alone?" clarisse snapped.
you froze. pulled your hands away, and retreated into yourself.
"oh," you said, clearing your throat.
"gods, you're just so clingy! i just need five minutes of peace."
"oh."
that's when she seemed to realize she hurt your feelings. she sighed, her face softening, "y/n-"
"i'm gonna go."
"i didn't mean it like that-"
"yeah. i'm sure you didn't."
you crossed your arms as you walked away, resisting the urge to cry.
-
DAY 1
during dinner that night, clarisse came up to the apollo table.
"y/n?" she asked.
you kept pushing the food around your plate, ignoring her.
"y/n." she repeated.
she sighed.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-"
without saying anything, you stood up and walked off.
clarisse didn't follow.
-
DAY 2
you were sitting by the lake, your feet in the water. you heard someone come from behind, and you knew who it was.
you sighed.
“y/n..” she started.
“i’m not talking to you,” you stated. you crossed your arms and kicked your feet in the water.
“please, i’m sorry—“
“i don’t care. you really hurt my feelings, clarisse. you could’ve just told me you want space instead of acting like you hate me.”
“i don’t—“
“just go, clarisse.”
she sighed and didn’t fight you anymore.
-
DAY 5
clarisse had done what you asked for the past few days. she didn’t come up to you or try to apologize.
you were getting ready for bed, braiding your younger sister’s hair, when someone knocked on the cabin door.
assuming it was some late night check, you sighed.
“i’ll get it.”
you walked over to the door and opened it, and clarisse was standing there.
you didn’t even let her speak before you shut the door.
“who was that?” lee asked.
“no one,” you shrugged, sitting back on the bed and resuming the braids.
-
DAY 6
“why don’t you just talk to her?” percy asked you. you offered to help him train with the water as best as you could.
“because. i usually do, but she’s been rude to me for a few weeks now. i just wanna makes sure she knows i won’t put up with it.”
percy shrugged, “makes sense, i guess.”
even though you had a poker face around clarisse, it did make you sad every time you shut her down or pushed her away.
you just wanted your girlfriend back.
-
DAY 7
after dinner, you really just wanted to go to your cabin and sleep. however, when you opened the door, a bunch of candles were lit.
“what the—“
clarisse was standing next to your bed with a bouquet of flowers. they were your favorites— hibiscus. they didn’t grow anywhere near long island, so she must have gotten a demeter kid to get her some.
“i’m sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have snapped at you. i just.. i’ve worked my whole life at camp to be recognized by my dad, and percy gets all this fame and glory in a few weeks. it’s not an excuse, but i just.. wanted to explain myself,” she said, extending the flowers toward you.
you kept your arms crossed.
“i want to be around you all the time. i didn’t mean to act like i don’t wanna be with you, because i do. i mean.. besides, who else is able to calm me down?”
and that made you laugh, “nobody,” you took the flowers. “thank you for the flowers. no one’s ever gotten me these.”
she shrugged, “i figured it was about time you got your favorite flowers.”
you smiled and quickly turned to her.
“so.. we’re good?”
“we’re good,” you nod and plant your lips on hers.
-
a/n: YAYAYAYAT FIRST CLARISSE IMAGINE / BLURB / DRABLE IDK THE CLASSIFICATION!!!!
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wileys-russo · 10 months ago
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r is a (new) worker in a cafe leah is a regular in. one day leah comes in with a few friends and some fans rush towards them trying to take photos or autographs. eventually the pile of people just kinda grow and block the entry . r sees this and shoos the group of people off for blocking the entrance. and leah is just there standing with that signature smirk admiring this girl who she's never seen before that's just saved her and her friends some time when leah is ordering she talks to r, thanking them for shooing the people off. (+ some teasing and friendly banter and stuff ) they have a small talk before leah's order comes in and she goes back to the table her and her friends in. before leah and her friends leave the musters up the courage to talk to you one more time, asking for your name, your number anything she could use to know you better. r teases leah and says something like "if i call you am i gonna just be 'one of your girls'?" something among those lines. sorry if this is a bit boring but i tried. i love your work btw keep it up!! you're doing amazing🙏
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no p2 to this! just a cute little blurb one of your girls II l.williamson
"-and obviously you know how this works?" evelyn, your new boss, chuckled as she patted the top of the large espresso machine. "i certainly hope so." you grinned toothily, the older girl still walking you through it all quickly anyway.
"well, thats the tour over then. jobs yours!"
~
you survived your first few days unscathed, your work ethic and natural confident charm had you well liked among your coworkers and earned you regular hours as customers were showering your coffee with compliments.
the small cafe wasn't overly busy of an afternoon so you found yourself rostered mostly on mornings which you didn't mind, happy to start around five if it meant you could be home not long after lunch time and have the rest of your day as your own.
being one of the only cafe's on the street meant you had a large handful of repeat customers, and with your memory one of your best assets you knew most if not all of their orders off by heart by the end of your first week.
which is why your curiosity was peaked one morning when a group of girls you hadn't seen before came bundling in around seven in the morning, all in matching uniforms you assumed they were on a team of sorts but sports had never been of a great interest to you.
when your friends and peers were running around kicking a football or playing tag you had your head buried in a book or challenging someone to a card game, you were quite introverted until your teenage years and it wasn't until you left school all together that you came completely out of your shell.
as they all took turns ordering you clocked that there was a handful of different nationalities among them, australian, irish, british and something european you couldn't quite place.
they were all friendly enough though, two of them a blonde and a brunette leaning against the counter speaking with you as you made their coffees with a smile, all ordered at once under the same name.
"so which one of you is katie?" you questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow, the brunette sending you a grin. "that would be me, haven't seen you round here before though. you new?" katie questioned, irish accent thick and the grin never dropping from her face.
"could say that. been here a little over a week though and never seen any of you." you smiled back, leaning your head back a little as you frothed the milk and moved the wand out, hot steam flooding your vision.
"ahh see this is our regular spot but we've been jetsettin. famous footballers and all that!" katie winked as you hummed and the blonde beside her rolled her eyes.
"ignore her, if her head and her ego get any bigger she won't fit through the door!" the blonde nodded behind her as you laughed and katie pushed her.
"ah shove off russo. see ya round then new kid!" katie winked again, grabbing one tray of drinks as the blonde grabbed the other and sent you a smile, the other girls following out after them.
surviving the morning rush not long after you were taking a well earned break and sipping at a coffee of your own though you stood as a group of teenagers burst inside, their chatter filling the previously quiet room.
plastering a smile on your face you slipped your coffee beneath the counter and readied yourself to take their orders. as they rattled them off almost all at the same time you did your best to put them through, only missing two as you read them back.
half the group taking a seat a few of the girls hovered by the machine as you moved to start their order, your coworker dipping out back to toast the sandwiches ordered alongside the drinks.
"do you ever get arsenal players in here?" one of them asked as you gave her an odd look. "i don't really watch sports much, sorry." you shrugged honestly, that answer seeming to displease her as she frowned.
"like arsenal women, the football team? any of these girls?" you flinched back a little as another one of them shoved a phone in your face, eyes narrowing as they roamed the team photo in front of you, recognizing a few of the girls with katie this morning.
though sensing maybe there was something a little off with the request, you again shrugged. "don't really remember sorry, we get a lot of people in here, especially on a tuesday morning." you smiled politely as again the girls frowned, turning away from you as you focused on filling their order.
"all done!" you smiled as you slipped the last coffee into the tray, rolling your eyes as they grabbed them and gave you a weird look, hurrying over to their table.
it wasn't hard to know you'd been mentioned once or twice in their conversation as heads frequently turned to glance at you and you pretended not to notice, suddenly feeling like you were back in high school again.
you perked up as the bell for the door rang and a new group entered, but your eyes flickered over to the girls already sat down, recognizing one of your new customers to be in the same uniform as katie and her friends.
sure enough the moment the girls noticed they were up to their feet, crowding around the footballer who smiled politely and took a few photos, but you could see in her eyes that her smile never made it all the way there.
it would seem word traveled fast as within a couple of minutes a second group of teenagers appeared and you watched the blondes polite smile turn to a frown and though you couldn't hear what she was saying, you could see it wasn't being listened to.
brushing your hands off on your apron you hurried around the counter and toward the front door. "hey! if you're not a current customer, out." you warned sternly, raising your voice at the group and nodding for the blonde footballer to step inside.
"i said current." you repeated, blocking the second group of teenagers from entering as the blonde and her friends made their way to the counter. "our friends are in there, we're with them." one of the girls pointed out.
"your friends were just leaving, since their drinks and food are finished." you nodded to the empty plates and discarded takeaway cups sat on the table they'd abandoned.
"you can't kick us out." the girl from earlier frowned with a scoff. "i'm not kicking you out, but we have every right to deny service to people who don't know how to act with respect." you raised an eyebrow.
"and harassing footballers who are just trying to get a coffee doesn't sound very respectful, does it? they're humans too, so how about giving them a little privacy. feel free not to come back!" you nodded for them to move on after that, ignoring the insults thrown your way as you closed the door and headed for the counter, your coworker already taking their orders.
"nicely done, talk about an attitude problem." the girl chuckled as she handed you the order slip, sending you a wink and ducking out back as you sighed with relief it didn't seem you'd be getting in any sort of trouble.
"hey, thank you for that." you looked up to meet a confident smile and a set of bright blue eyes looking back at you. "no problem, but does that happen a lot?" you asked with concern. "more than i want. especially in the last year since the euros!" the blonde sighed with a slight chuckle.
"not a big sports fan, you might need to elaborate on that." you admitted with a smile, the blonde raising an eyebrow with a surprised look. "you don't know who i am?" she questioned but seeing the look on your own face she clearly rethought it.
"jesus that sounded self-absorbed. let me try again, i'm leah!" she held her hand out with a grin, you shook it and introduced yourself back.
"so, you're new around here right? i come at least four times a week with the girls normally and i've not seen you. i'd have remembered!" leah leaned against the counter, confident smile plastered back on her face again.
"seems to be the common theme. let me guess, you've been out of town jetsetting?" you chuckled as leah gave you an odd look. "some of your teammates were here this morning, katie said the same thing." you revealed as leah hummed thoughtfully.
"also seemed to like to think of herself as a big famous footballer, but she wasn't shocked i didn't know her though." you teased as leah playfully rolled her eyes.
"how about i take you for dinner as an apology?" leah asked somewhat hopefully, even surprising herself with the forwardness of her request. "so i can be one of your adoring fangirls? thats cute. but i don't date customers, leah." you smiled, sliding over the tray of coffees
"did you see me order these? they're not under my name, technically i'm not a customer." the blonde smiled charmingly and you shook your head amused at her persistence.
"mm you're drinking them here though? customer." you smiled back, nodding to her friends who were already sat down at a table eating food.
"it was nice to meet you leah, i'm sure i'll see you around."
~
turns out, it was a lot sooner than you thought.
that afternoon to be exact as you were out walking your best friends dog, having agreed to babysit her precious fur baby while she was away at a wedding for a few days.
you watched with an amused smile as bear raced after his ball, laughing as he nearly fell over his paws, the poor puppy growing at a rate which he couldn't seem to keep up with.
you jumped in surprise as suddenly a dog sprinted through your legs in a flash of tan fur, taking off after bear as you heard a groan behind you. "bella! come here, sit, stay, heel! oh fuck whats the word again?" you looked up to see a flash of blonde dart past you next.
"bear!" you whistled noticing the new dog sniffing him curiously, the chocolate labs head whipping toward you as you whistled again and he took off toward you, the new dog following eagerly after him.
as bear dropped in a sit by your feet you squatted down and carefully grabbed the new dogs collar, the owner racing over toward you as you checked the tag, bella.
"well aren't you lovely." you smiled, scratching behind her ears as she licked your hand making you laugh. "bella! we do not lick strangers its impolite." you looked up with a smile which was wiped away as bella's owner looked down.
"wow are you stalking me? crazy fangirl." leah tutted with a smirk as she clipped bella's leash back on and you scoffed. "i'm sure you'd like to think so, but i haven't even given you enough thought to google your last name." you hit back as she gasped and held a hand to her chest, bear running off again as bella tried to follow with a whine.
"my poor ego, that hurt." leah sighed with a shake of her head as bear returned, dropping his ball at your feet as you clipped his own leash back and slipped the ball into your pocket.
"i'm sure it'll recover when the next adoring fan asks you for a selfie. maybe next time i'll leave you to the wolves and just do my job." you smiled, starting to walk off as leah was quick to fall into step with you.
"you mean you're not a security guard?" leah spoke with mock surprise as you hummed. "only a lowly barista." you pouted sarcastically, bear and bella also walking in step.
"might be in the wrong profession, you're proper scary." leah smirked poking at your arm as you pushed her gently, not missing the sarcasm in her tone at the obvious height difference between you both, the blonde easily two heads taller.
"didn't see you complaining about the coffee so i don't think i've missed my calling." you laughed as leah shook her head. "wouldn't know, i had the hot chocolate. not the best i've had!" the blonde shrugged as you scoffed.
"well if you can run on a football pitch like you can run your mouth i'm sure you're just as famous and successful as you think you are." you hit back though the smile on your face betrayed the false offence in your tone.
"oh even more so! best in the world." leah stated dead seriously as you both exchanged a glance and her face broke into a grin, bumping her shoulder into yours.
"well. we're not in your workplace so i'm not a customer, can i take you to dinner? i'd ask you out for coffee but i don't drink it and i'm sure you think you're just as good at making it as i know i am at football." leah smirked and despite the cockiness you could see just a flicker of nerves in her eyes as you both stopped walking for a moment.
"are all footballers this insufferably self absorbed?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow. "only the really really talented ones." leah grinned cheekily, beanie sitting lopsided on top of her head as you smiled.
"fine, dinner. so i guess i have to give you my number then lily." you pulled your phone from your pocket. "leah." the blonde corrected as you exchanged numbers.
"oh was it? just such a forgettable name and face." you shrugged, both of your walking resuming as leah hummed. "cute." the blonde retorted with a smirk and a shake of her head.
"i am. and by the end of dinner maybe i'll have humbled you just enough that i might tolerate a second date with...sorry was it lucy? layla? luna?" you pondered with a frown as leah shoved you with a grin.
"leah."
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adarafaelbarba · 13 days ago
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“come and sit on my face and i’ll show you how much i missed you”
With barba? Slight age gap, he keeps canceling dates and she’s mad that Carmen had to tell her and not him
A/N: Rafael is 48 in this one (it's right before he leaves for Iowa) and reader is 33 😊 Warnings: Smut, minors DNI! Some arguing in the beginning, looks like they won't make up, but spicy in the second half, Rafael using his skills to win her back.
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You were beyond pissed at Rafael. Of course, you'd expected there might be some hiccups early on in the relationship, you were both busy people, and some nights might be harder to plan dates on than others.
But this was the fifth time this month that something had come up, and he'd have to cancel. Worse still was the fact that he'd gotten his assistant, Carmen, to call you about it.
On a normal day, you and Carmen got on like a charm, but you could hear in her voice when she called you, that she did not want to make this call.
So when Rafael finally showed up at your place, at 11pm, you nearly slammed the door in his face.
"Amor! Please! I'm sorry okay, something came up with the case last minute and I couldn't just leave it!" He tried, but you couldn't even look at him.
"Always something to do with work. I understand you have a demanding job, Rafael, but so do I, and I still make time for you. You couldn't just have asked one of the 25 paralegals working under the SVU department at One Hogan Place to fix it for you?"
"It's not that easy, this case is too delicate--"
"If they don't get to try the hard cases, how will they learn?! I asked for time off, you could've done the same!" You didn't want to yell at him, but this might be the last straw.
"Please, let me make it up to you, amor--"
"I don't know if you can."
He shot forward and grabbed your hand, pulling at it until you looked at him. "This can't be it--amor, please give me another chance!"
You bit your lip, looking at him, he looked like he was about to cry, a weakness of yours when it came to him, "Rafael--"
"Please, amor, I'll do anything--."
You shook your head, needing time.
---
Three months after you last saw Rafael, you were at the Manhattan SVU, covering a shift for Sonny who had to call in sick, something that honestly never happened.
Upon entering, you spotted the last person you wanted to see, standing in Liv's office. The two looked so homey, it stirred something inside you that you didn't like.
Sitting down at Sonny's desk, you tried your best to ignore the feeling, and going about the case you were working instead, when suddenly there was a tap at your shoulder. You looked up to see Amanda nudging you.
"Barba is looking at you, what gives?"
You flushed slightly. "It's complicated," you murmured, not wanting anyone else to hear, least of all, Rafael.
"Wait?! You two?!" Amanda exclaimed, making you want the earth to eat you up whole. "Aren't you like 15 years younger than him?!"
"Is that any of your concern, detective Rollins?" Rafael's voice sounded stern, like an angry school teacher, stirring something completely different from earlier inside you.
Amanda managed to get an "I'm sorry out" before she sat back down to work on her own stuff.
"Can we talk, y/n?" Rafael was right in front of you now.
"What's there to talk about--." But you got up regardless, not wanting to have an audience as you broke down.
The two of you made your way to the on-call room, no one would be using it for the next hour, so he could try and explain himself in peace for now.
Once the door was closed, he trapped you between it and his body, looking down at you. "Sit on my face, amor, and I'll show you how much I've missed you." he whispered, then you heard the lock clicking behind you.
"We're at work--"
"I can be quiet, can you?"
As if on queue, you let out a whimper. "we shouldn't--"
He dipped his head, his nose brushing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. "Let me show you how much I've missed you", he repeated.
It felt like your legs were turning into jelly, and you leant up to finally kiss him. The kiss turning desperate as you made out. Rafael taking the opportunity to grab your waist and walk you to the bed.
"Strip for me." He was as demanding now as he was in court, which honestly turned you on more than you wanted to admit.
Doing as you were told, you stripped for Rafael while he laid down on the bed, getting ready for you.
"Now be a good girl and sit on my face, but keep quiet, won't want the others to hear you."
You nodded, straddling his head. As soon as you did, he pulled you down onto him, beginning the onslaughter on your pussy. A small yelp coming from you, but you were quick to clamp a hand over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back at how good he made you feel.
It would take no effort at all from him to get you to the edge, and he knew that, which made him so much more lethal when he gave you pleasure.
And sure enough, you soon found yourself on the edge of your release, on of your hands going into his hair, holding him there while he helped you through the best orgasm you'd ever had.
Getting off him, he had the biggest grin on his face, and you wanted to stay mad, but in that moment, you only felt love for him.
He got up after you, pulling you in for a heated kiss as he rubbed your heated body up and down. "I'll never betray you again, amor, please give me another chance."
You nodded at that, "one more chance, no more." Which he agreed to, helping you get redressed.
~~~
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haikyu-mp4 · 1 month ago
Text
Stable foundation
You and Aone are good cop + bad cop when your daughter acts up, for my Parenting event<3
requested by @dira333. word count; 644 – f!reader
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Your daughter is generally a saint, calm and kind like her dad, creative and sweet like you. However, every parent has to scold their child sometimes, and your daughter really did it this time. The two of you stood in front of your newly decorated hallway, your son in another room doing his homework and probably completely uninterested.
It wasn’t supposed to be newly decorated. Your daughter had taken it upon herself to un-whiten the walls with oily crayons and waterproof markers that would definitely be a pain to remove, if you didn’t have to just paint it over.
“No!” you yelled on instinct when you walked past the hallway and saw her sitting there with her art supplies. At the sound of your indignation, Aone stuck his head around the corner in a silent question before coming fully into the room to see.
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”
“We have so much paper, why would you draw on the walls?” you asked rhetorically, the frustration clear in your voice and making your daughter tear up quickly. She stood up, holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers as if presenting a masterpiece.
You looked at your husband with furrowed brows, only to find he was looking at you for help already. It would have made you laugh, hadn’t you been so frustrated. Aone cleared his throat. “It’s a really nice drawing, but now we can’t frame it.”
Pursing your lips, you were between cooing and scolding. If that was his biggest worry, you sure chose a good husband.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pouting and dropping the red and green crayon she previously held in one hand to make a double line.
While you picked the girl up so she couldn’t do any more damage, Aone went to pick up her supplies and put them away. “You can not draw on the walls,” you told her, strict voice having even more effect now that she was in your arms and so close.
Her lip quivered, making her rub her face and smudging colour there too, so you tried to pull her arms away but she thrashed in your hold. Aone came over when the little girl yelled for him, resting a hand on her head to calm her cries.
“But mommy, you said you wanted to put more pictures on the walls,” she cried. You took in a sharp breath, now with your own welling tears as she so sorrowfully admitted to her kind intentions. She’s so much like her dad.
Two days ago, you had thrown out a comment to your husband about wanting more art on the walls and that you should buy more frames for your kids’ stuff.
“Let’s get you washed up,” Aone said, taking the girl from your arms and throwing you a reassuring smile.
While you took the time to calm down and assess the damage and how you would fix it, Aone helped her wash and then set her up with some food in the living room where her brother could watch her for a little while.
As he came back, you were slumped on the floor, stained washcloth in hand and about three different soaps laying around you. Aone noticed how the cleaning had ultimately made the damage worse and puffed out a breath of air before squatting beside you. He licked his thumb and rubbed away a smudge on your face, which reminded him much of your daughter a couple minutes ago, then ran his hand down your jaw to direct your eyes to his.
“It’s fine. I will paint it. She will learn.”
You were tired from work lately, so overwhelmed that things like this made the scale tip. That’s when you were glad to have such a stable husband.
“It’s fine,” you repeated like an affirmation.
Aone smiled. Another day of supporting his perfect family.
masterlist
for the requester: I haaad to make Aone good cop, that cutie.
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lit3rallyll0yd · 1 year ago
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Idk if request are opened but if they are can I request headcanons with dazai, chuuya and atsushi with a best friend who gets hit on a LOT. They also have random people coming up and complement them/ their outfit everyday without fail. Maybe even a time their friend lied and said they were a couple to get some guy to stop hitting on them. Thank you.
๋࣭ ⭑ other men hitting on you. bsd x reader
gender: gender neutral
type: headcanons
characters: dazai, chuuya, and atsushi
warnings: lowercase writing, creepy men, mention of drinking, all characters are over 18!
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๋࣭ ⭑ osamu dazai 🩹
doesn't blame others for hitting on you. he compliments you all the damn time.
your used to walking into work and run into dazai, who is always complimenting your looks<\3
even on the way to work you've had many compliment you. you can never go one day without having someone saying something about your outfit.
it was cute and kind at first, but overtime you've started to feel uncomfortable...all these eyes on you, this compliments left and right?
it was overwhelming for you, and dazai popped the bubble when he once again complimented you.
"dazai- stop! okay, i get it! you don't need to keep telling me!"
cue the eyebrow raise.
"i'm only speaking the truth!"
"yeah, too much if it!"
thats the day he found out you weren't the biggest fan of compliments. once or twice, okay thank you, repeating it five times over, okay bye.
one evening, you and dazai were in the bar located under the agency, having a few drinks before you part ways and you head home while dazai...wandered somewhere else where.
however, plans were cut short when a man who looked around to be in his late 20's stumbled in, reaking already of alcohal.
he took a stool from beside you and sat on it, watching you. dazai was gone, he was in the bathroom when this man walked in, so you were left with him.
"hey there, cutie~" the man leaned more toward you.
you didn't look at him, and played with the rim of your glass.
"nice outfit you have there~ love the view of the legs~ how about you show more of it~"
you shivered, feeling his fingers trace up and down your thigh. you tried to pull away from him, but he followed you.
suddenly, dazai walked back out and you instantly felt relieved.
"sorry, sir~ but i already have someone taking me home.." you stood up, the creep watching yoi walk toward dazai and wrap an arm around his own...which caused him to freeze.
"y-y/n?-"
you eyed the man.
dazai made an "o" shape, before clearing his throat.
"is-is something wrong, dear?"
you shook your head, smiling to yourself.
"no babe, now come on! i'm tried, take me home!"
dazai knew you were faking, but his soft pink blush was indeed real.
as you both walked past the man, you kicked his chair leg, causing him to fall to the floor.
as you and dazai walked out the door and took a turn, you pulled away from him and sighed dramatically, "ugh, i hate drunk people..well, drunk people who are creeps.." you shiver.
dazai chuckled, "that trick you pulled? smart way to get away from creeps like that man...however, your lucky i'm your friend, otherwise i would have said i wasn't your partner~"
you roll your eyes, "whatever...i'm going home. call me if ya' need something.."
and dazai watched you walk off, turning on his heels to walk the opposite way. his arms over his hand and a smirk decorated his face.
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๋࣭ ⭑ chuuya nakahara 🍷
both of you get compliments for your outfits.
chuuya gives a soft nod while you speak verbally, "thank you!"
he's used to random people complimenting him, but you were different.
sure, it was nice and stuff, but over and over again, regarding your looks and body? eh, you don't know how to feel.
chuuya would also compliment you, but since he's your best friend, you felt more comfortable.
you explained to him, when this feeling starting to form, that when other people compliment you, it makes you feel awkward.
he understood and also took the compliments down a peg.
"i just..don't like all the attention!"
he nods, "that's okay. the spotlight isn't for all to enjoy.."
timesmkip to a couple of weeks later.
work was okay.
the compliments from people died down when yoh started to not care so much about what you wore, much to chuuya's demise.
he told you don't need to hide your entire body, but also understood why you do it, and doesn't push it.
that was, until one night was anncouned a party night, for some sort of port mafia achivement?
or maybe it was all for kicks..
you and chuuya left the group, not honestly caring what they're missing out.
half of it was probably postponed because elise wouldn't wear the dress moir bought for her for over 1000$.
so, you both decided to have a few drinks together by the bar closest to where you live.
you ordered yours, and he ordered his drink and couple hours went by.
laugher, talking, and jokes fell upon those hours.
however, the hour you planned to leave a guy around your age stumbled into the bar.
you instantly felt his eyes on you, and you felt your stomach drop. he sat right beside you while chuuya was on the other side.
they guy didn't see him, and instantly spoke to you.
"hey there, cutie~ whats a attractive sweetie doing here all alone late at night~?"
he spoke, his breath stinks, but you couldn't say anything when you felt him lean in closer to you.
chuuya watched, his hand clutching his glass, but he didn't want to cause a scene..yet.
he glared daggers at the man, but he didn't notice.
"what's a sad, single loser doing in a bar all alone? are you that sad you need alcohal to find another purposein life,l-?" you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.
suddenly, you felt the man grab your wrist and pull the drink down, leaning close to your ear-
he licks his lips, "mm you're a fiesty one? that's okay~ it just makes you more hotter~ how about you come back home with me, i'll be able to make you feel real ho-"
before chuuya could step in and knock gravity out of his existance, his scream of pain caused him to stop.
you grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and slammed his head to the table, standing up from your seat and gripped his hair.
"not to burst your bubble, but i'm already taken~" you eyed chuuya, who blinked once..twice..
he stood from his seat, grabbed the man by the collor and pushed him to the floor, stepping on his back, keeping him down with his gravity.
"treat another person like you just did to my partner, and you'll be buried six-feet-under, ya'hear me?"
the man stuttered out an apology, chuuya letting him up and you both watched him run out the door.
you thanked chuuya for going on with the plan, saying your goodbyes.
if he had to, he would do it again
chuuya stayed to finish his drink, cursing your name when he realized he had to pay for your drink.
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๋࣭ ⭑ atsushi nakajima 🐯
how could he be friends with someone has amazing as you?
he loves your aesthetic.
even he compliments you because he's just trying to be nice.
you would thank him, smiling sotftly at him and going on with yiur day.
however until one day, when he complimented you, your sighed heavily, hiding your face in your hands.
he tilts his head in confusion, rubbing your shoulder, asking what's wrong.
"y/n? are you okay?"
you sighed, "yeah! i'm fine- just...all these compliments i'm getting from strangers! it's awkward! i don't know what to say all the time and there are some people...who try to...touch me."
you mumbled the last part, atsushi nodding slowly.
he listened to you rambled and asked his he could hug you.
of course, you agreed and engulfed him in a hug.
overtime, he's died down on the compliments, wanting to respect your bounderies and not upset you.
until one night, atsushi and you finished work later then usual and the weretiger offered to walk you home.
you and him were chatting for a little bit, until you wandered past a bakery.
atsushi asked if you wanted anything, but you shaked your head and said you can wait out here for him.
there were seats in front of the door, so you sat down and waited for him.
couple minutes passed...and suddenly there was a teenager, probably the same age as atsushi and he looked...drunk.
you took out your phone and earbuds, trying your best to distract yourself.
it was working...to some extent.
the teenager noticed you, and you could smell the alcohal on him when he came close to you.
"hey baby~" he cooed at you, sitting down on the chair beside you.
you took a unnoticed deep breath and looked up at him, to frightened to move.
"look at this hot outfit your wearing~ hm, they look sooo good on you~" he giggled, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh.
you tried to kick him away, but he gripped your leg tighter.
"i think it would look better~ if it showed more of these smooth legs of yours-"
suddenly, atsushi walked out of the bakery.
"ugh, sorry y/n! the bakery was short-staffed so it took longer to gte my-"
"finally babe, your back!" you stood up, legs shaking softly and you hugged atsushi, whispering in his ear.
"we need to leave, now.."
atsushi looked at boy he didn't see at first, and glared at his drunk body.
his head was hung low and he kept giggling, "awh~ don't think about leaving so soon~"
atsushi grabbed the boy by the collor and pulled him off the ground.
"touch another stranger like that again, and you'll wish you never did." he dropped the man who was gaspong for air and scurried away, running into walls and poles.
he's on his own now...
atsushi looked abck at you, "are you okay?"
you laughed, "yeah..hey, i told you i didn't want anything.."
you pout, grabbing a bag of smal muffins.
"i know, but i thought you were hungry after today."
you smiled, thanking him.
as you both continued your walk, atsushi suddenly stops when he realized something.
DID YOU CALL HIM BABE???
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thisismeracing · 1 year ago
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Mick+ betrayal + angst. Hurt me queen.
Betrayal | MS47
⸺ the one where Mick doesn't know what to do when love is over, and he ends up hurting Yn even more. Or when it took him only two weeks to go out and date the other girl. ✓ mentions of cheating and break up.
⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (CLOSED) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist
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What do you do when love is over?
That's a question that not everyone will have an answer to, and even if they do, there is no guarantee it will be the right one. The one that prevents heartbreak, tears stains, and screaming matches.
Mick tried to end things on good terms. And though he knew love was not over for her, he was already in love with someone else, so he decided that lying was a good idea. Mick told Yn that he wanted to break up because he needed to focus on his new seat, to give his undying attention to getting better and better and not going through the rough path he went to previously. That was the most absurd thing Yn ever heard Mick say, and she had heard him say that horses could fly one very drunk day.
When Yn pointed out that she never questioned his timing or asked for more attention than he could give, she reminded him that during his two years in Haas, she was by his side. When she cried, asking him how could love stop him from reaching his biggest goals. When she whimpered that love would actually push you towards your dreams, and support you, Mick could only shake his head and repeat that he was sorry. Which he was, in some way.
He never thought he would fall out of love with her, never thought that he would live a day where her laugh didn't bring him the most joy, or that watching her doing mundane things wouldn't be as interesting as before, but it happened.
And that's how Yn found herself at his doorstep two weeks after their breakup to get some of the things she wasn't able to on the same fateful heartbroken week of her existence.
She knocked on the door, the weird feeling creeping into her body. It was strange to wait by the entrance as if she were a stranger, and as if that was not her house a couple weeks ago.
"Coming!" She heard his cheerful voice exclaim before the lock turned and the door opened. The smile Mick had on his face vanished the second their eyes met, and they had been together long enough for Yn to recognize the guilty look on his face, just seconds before the feminine frame showed up behind him.
She was wearing one of Mick's shirts just like Yn used to. She looked happy. Comfortable. She looked at home. As if they'd been together for more than two weeks. As if their story was older than that.
Yn gulped, her throat closing and eyes watering, but she kept her instance, "I came to take the rest of my stuff..."
"Y-yeah, of course," Mick took a step back, allowing her to enter the house that had a completely new smell. "Mhmm- this is...this is Debby, my- uh- my girlfriend. Debby this is-"
"Spare me, Mick," Yn interrupted. "She knows who I am, and it seems like I'm the only one between us who did not know about her before."
"What do you mean?" he asked, brows furrowing, and body turning toward her, ready for confirmation. But oh Yn was so tired.
She just turned her back to the couple and ascended the stairs. The bed they used to share and everything else seemed the same as the day she left, except there was Debby everywhere. Each small detail that made it Yn's and Mick's little fort was off.
"She was just a friend. You know I wouldn't cheat-" he came up to the room, looming by the door while Yn gathered the last of her clothes from the closet and sorted her things from the new feminine things in his bathroom.
"Ain't it funny how I brought it up and you told me I was paranoid?" She reminded the day Debby and Mick started following each other and they started to message non-stop. Yn trusted him, but for the first time something seemed different, and when she tried to communicate Mick brushed it off.
When the blonde opened his mouth to retort, Yn cut him off, "Guess you didn't cheat but you're still a traitor, Schumacher. And I hope she breaks your heart the way you broke mine. I hope you broke each other's heart."
Mick took a step back as if her words were a fist swinging on his face, making him lose his balance. It was the first time he saw Yn that hurt, the first time her eyes had so many tears and so much loathing.
Yn threw her things inside the bag without caring to arrange it, just as Debby reached the room. Granted, the girl seemed a bit sad about the whole situation, but it did not wipe out how sad and hurtful it was for Yn.
"When you're sleeping in the bed I made with him, don't you forget about the way he betrayed me, because that was exactly what it was: betrayal. And he'll do the same with you, you can be sure of that," Yn smiled painfully and zipped the bag. "I wish you two a very sad life."
Hours after Yn left Mick was still thinking where does the love go? Does it turn into hate? Does it disappear? Did he make the right choice? Was he a traitor?
And for the first time, his house did not feel like his own. It felt like the home he once shared with Yn, except now it was broken.
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Yup I wrote it listening to Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo how'd you guess? lol Don't forget to reblog and comment *mwah* luv y'all!
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merrybloomwrites · 1 year ago
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 1)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N attends her first Harry Styles concert and catches the unwanted attention of a knothead alpha. Luckily Harry and his team are able get to you in time, leading to some confusing thoughts about the popstar.
Previous Chapters: Prologue
CW: Attempted assault (nothing too graphic but it is there)
Word Count: 4.7k
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“What do you mean you can’t go?” You ask incredulously. Going to the concert wasn’t even your idea. It was your friend Rachel’s and now she’s ditching you.
There’s a pause on the other end of the call before Rachel says, “It’s my dog. Well, my family dog that we’ve had since I was in middle school. She’s not doing well, and they think she only has a couple days left so now I have to drive back to Delaware to see her and say goodbye.”
“Oh my god, Rach, I’m so sorry!” And now you feel like a jerk for being mad at her canceling.
“Thanks. We knew it was coming but I hoped we had a few more weeks. Uhm, anyway, I need to finish packing and get on the road.”
“Of course, yea, safe trip home,” you quickly reply.
“You better take some videos of the concert and send them to me. Especially if he does something different for night one at MSG!”  
“Rachel, I’m not gonna have any idea if he’s doing stuff different from his last shows, as I have no idea what his shows are like. But I promise to send you a couple videos, okay?”
“Still can’t believe you haven’t watched any videos from tour. What rock do you live under again?” You laugh at her teasing, mostly cause it’s true. The fact that you’ve made it this far without knowing much about Harry Styles surprises even you. “Have fun for both of us tonight,” Rachel says.
“I will, give your dog a belly rub from me. Love you!”
“Love you too, bye!”
The call ends and you sit for a moment. You don’t really want to go to a concert alone, but that’s what your night now has in store. Rachel had tried calling some other people in your friend group, but they were all busy. You’d also texted your two best friends, Amelia and Violet, but it was too last minute for them to change plans and go with you.
So, alone it is.
You look at the outfit you had planned but decide against it. The leather pants and crop top ensemble isn’t exactly in your comfort zone, but Rachel chose it and wanted the two of you to match. Now that you’re on your own you switch to a pair of jean shorts with tights underneath and a flowy top, something you’re much more comfortable with. Harry’s music plays in the background while you get ready. You’d been studying the setlist to make sure you would know at least some of the songs he’ll perform. You’re happy when you find yourself singing along, showing that listening on repeat had worked.
After getting dressed you do your hair and makeup, then drive to your local train station. Living in north Jersey has its perks, and the quick train ride directly to Madison Square Garden might just be the biggest.
You get off the train and follow the trail of feathers from the boas which leads you directly to the venue. You show your ticket and are led to the entrance for the pit.
Being in the pit had also been Rachel’s idea. You’d never done that before, and you would have preferred somewhere with a seat, and honestly a better view from a higher vantage point. But you’d agreed to pit and in the weeks leading to the show you’d actually become excited to experience something new.
But now that you’re alone, you’re a bit overwhelmed. You’re one of the last people to arrive, since it’s only half an hour before the opener is set to start, so you end up hanging in the back. But even then, the large amount of people around you has you on edge.
Being a single female is hard. Guys are always hitting on women, feeling entitled to your company, not taking no for an answer. But being a single female omega is even harder. The way you see it betas have it easy, especially since they’re the majority. And alphas? Well, what do they have to worry about? They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they have their alpha voices that can command you and take away your free will if they want. Plus, they have an unmatched sense of superiority, thinking they’re so special just because of their secondary gender.
But you’re an omega. Often considered to be the weakest gender. Which is stupid. You’re the gender that gives birth, which takes way more strength than alphas could ever possess. And yet you’re still looked down upon by plenty of people in society.
So, you choose to hide your secondary gender. Only your family members plus Ameila and Violet know the truth. You don’t need anyone judging you based on one little trait.
Going out in public, especially at places as crowded as MSG always gives you anxiety. You never know if a knothead alpha is going to be there and literally sniff you out as an omega. But you trust your suppressants and soothers and, most importantly, your scent blockers, to do their jobs and hide your omega status from the strangers around you.
The pills have never failed in you in the eight years since you started taking them. You have no reason to doubt them now.
And yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the attention a certain man in the crowd is giving you. He is undoubtedly an alpha, one that for sure does not use scent blockers. In fact, you’re almost convinced he’s doing something to broadcast his scent, somehow make it even stronger. It’s an unpleasant odor, one that practically burns your nose, but you pretend you can’t smell it. Afterall, a beta wouldn’t be able to notice the scent.
But as much as you try to ignore the scent, going so far as to move to the entire other side of the pit, it still lingers. Because you are most definitely being followed. Seemingly casual glances at the crowd around you shows that the man has moved with you.
Going closer to the stage is the last thing you want to do, but getting deeper in the crowd might be what you need to shake off the man. The girls around you gladly welcome you and make space for you to join. A moment later the opening act starts to play, and you no longer smell the alpha. You’re relieved and get into the music for a few minutes.
Then the girls around you start to move, and you hear them say something about the bathroom. You decide to go with them since you could use a bathroom break and there will be safety in numbers. You keep your head down and casually follow, in hopes that the man won’t see you leaving the crowd.
Only once in the bathroom do you lift your head up. There’s a small line since most people are out listening to the first band. A moment later it’s your turn and you enter the stall. After using the restroom, you notice a large rip in your tights. You look at them, hoping they can be considered fashionably torn, but then you see another hole and decide to give up on them altogether.
It takes you a couple minutes to get rid of them, needing basically to fully undress from the waist down to get them off. Finally, you’re put together again, and you exit the stall, throw out the destroyed tights, and wash your hands. You notice that the group you came with is gone. In fact, the entire bathroom is now empty.
You sigh, disappointed that you’re on your own again, but you suck it up and start making your way back to the pit.
The second you walk out the bathroom door you smell it. Him. That acrid, somehow fishy, definitely revolting scent that alerts you that the alpha is nearby.
Before you even see him you hear him say, “Be quiet, and follow me.”
Shit. That’s an alpha command. You’re aware of that fact, but unable to fight it. You want to run, go back to the crowd, but you have no choice but to follow this man deeper into the back hallways. You want to scream, but every time you open your mouth, no sound comes out.
He leads you to a deserted corner, pushing you so your back is against a wall, and says, “Now stay quiet, and don’t move.”
Again, you do as he says, not only because of the command that you have to follow, but also due to the fear paralyzing you to the spot and rendering you silent.
“What a good little omega,” he says as he walks closer. He leans towards your neck, breath ghosting over your mating spot, and a loud whimper escapes you.
Realizing that you don’t need words to call for help, you begin to let out whines and whimpers as well as release distressed pheromones. Sure, you have scent blockers, but they’re not perfect and fear this strong will surely overpower them. You hope it’s enough to alert any other alphas nearby that there is an omega in danger.
You see the anger cross the man’s face, note the furious pheromones he’s releasing, but before he even reacts, your world goes dark.
***
Harry’s stylist is putting the finishing touches on his hair when there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Harry says.
The door opens and he sees his band standing just outside the room.
“Blood Orange is about to start,” his drummer, Sarah, says. “You coming to watch with us?”
“Yea, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.”
As soon as he’s left alone, Harry takes some calming breaths. Night one of fifteen consecutive sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. He can’t believe how far he’s come in his career. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself that he’s worked hard for this, that he’s completely ready.
After spraying one more dose of scent blockers, he walks out of his room and goes through the hallways to find his band. They’re at the end of one hall, standing at the opening they’ll use later to walk to the stage. Harry joins them, making sure they’re all back far enough that they are still hidden from the fans.
Harry mingles with his band while they wait for the opener to start their set. But after a minute, Harry starts to get an uneasy feeling. He himself isn’t nervous or scared, so he really doesn’t understand where this sudden anxiety is coming from.
Harry looks around and sees a worried look on Sarah’s face. Aside from Harry himself, Sarah is the only other Alpha in the band. So the fact that they both have a sudden bad feeling while the betas around them seem unbothered has Harry on edge.
He begins to look for any type of potential threat. Right away he notices that the two Alpha security guards are scanning the area as well, hinting that they’ve picked up on the same thing. One of them walks away to start looking for anything that could be going wrong.
Blood Orange takes the stage, and that anxious feeling seems to go away. Harry checks with Sarah and she’s feeling better too, so they assume whatever was wrong has been taken care of.
Everyone enjoys the first few songs, and suddenly, the feeling comes back, way stronger than before. Harry’s alpha is immediately alert. He starts moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He hears footsteps and sees Sarah and a security guard following close behind.
None of them know exactly where the trouble is, they just follow their instincts through the backstage hallways. Suddenly, the feeling of overwhelming terror hits them, and they can faintly hear whimpers coming from a distressed omega.
They start to run in the direction the sounds are coming from. Rounding a corner, they come across a scene that has their blood boiling.
There’s a female omega, seemingly unconscious, being physically held up against a wall by a male alpha.
“Let her go,” Harry growls out using his alpha voice. It’s less effective on the man than it would be on an omega, but his grip on the girl involuntarily loosens. Harry and the security guard move in to pull the alpha off, and Sarah runs forward to catch the girl.
More security guards move in and drag the alpha away to be questioned.
Harry’s focus shifts to the omega now being held in Sarah’s lap on the floor. Adrenaline is still coursing through Harry’s body, but he feels himself relaxing faster than he thought possible. That’s when he realizes Sarah is releasing calming pheromones. He immediately works to do the same, rather than continue to broadcast the anger he’s feeling.
He knows his emotions can affect the vulnerable omega, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her most stress.
His most pressing worry is that she’s dropped. It wouldn’t be all that surprising. Omegas tend to drop during stressful situations. This can be dangerous for a number of reasons, especially if they don’t have a trusted alpha to keep them safe while they’re under.
Not only can they not protect their bodies, but a drop can also be a scary experience mentally. Omegas have described it as feeling untethered, like they’re stuck in darkness, unable to find a way out. There are good drops as well, ones you go into on purpose to give your mind rest. This is always done when there is an alpha there to hold and scent them and keep them safe and grounded throughout.
But if this is a drop, Harry knows it would be a bad one, and they’d need to gently bring her up immediately.
“Sarah?” Harry says to get the other alpha’s attention.
“Yes?” she replies, not taking her eyes off the girl.
“Do you think she’s dropped?”
“No. At least not fully. I can still catch a bit of her scent. If she went fully under it would have disappeared completely.”
There’s movement all around them, members of venue security and Harry’s team all coming and going to ensure everyone is safe. Music and loud cheers can be heard, meaning the opening act if still playing, that the show was not interrupted by what happened backstage.
Harry and Sarah are focused solely on the omega, until they hear a familiar male voice say, “There you guys are. Sarah, you scared the shit out of me running off like that.”
She looks up at her husband, Mitch, and smiles sheepishly before saying, “Sorry, I really didn’t think. We heard her distressed whines and just reacted.”
“Is she okay?” Mitch asks, crouching down to be level with the group on the floor.
“We think so,” Harry answers. “There was an alpha who had her cornered. Not sure what exactly he was planning but it was obviously nothing good. She was unconscious when we got to her. Just wish she’d wake up so we can check that she’s really unharmed.”
“Is she in a drop?” Mitch asks. Being a beta he’s not as knowledgeable about these things but he knows enough to be concerned about the girl.
“No, definitely not a full drop. But I’ve been flooding the area with calming pheromones and she’s still not waking up,” Sarah says worriedly.
“Maybe she just senses unknown alphas around her. Why don’t I try holding her and you guys move away a bit?” He senses how reluctant they are to move away from the omega, but eventually they listen to Mitch.
He settles on the ground and Sarah passes the omega to him before moving to give them space. After another minute the girl begins to stir, groggily at first before her eyes shoot open and she jumps up to move away from all the people around her. They watch cautiously, unsure what to do with the sudden change in the situation.
***
For awhile you’re stuck in the dark. This isn’t a drop, not really. You’ve only ever dropped twice but you can tell there’s a difference this time. You’re still aware of what’s going on around you, even if the details are fuzzy.
The alpha is gone. That you know for sure. The awful smell is gone, replaced by a much more pleasant one. It’s a mix of black tea and maybe the ocean? Whatever it is reminds you of early morning walks on the beach during family vacations. You relax more into this scent, and then notice that fresh laundry smell which always means someone is releasing calming pheromones.
You start to relax, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. You can still sense multiple alphas, which keeps you a bit on edge. You try to open your eyes, but you’re still in a deep fog, probably due to the mix of intense emotions and the multiple alpha commands you’d been subjected to.
You don’t realize that someone is holding you until they shift and place you in another person’s arms. The alpha scent fades and you know the person now holding you is for sure a beta.
Finally, you manage to open your eyes. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but when you do, you’re overwhelmed, and honestly a bit embarrassed. Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, the world-famous popstar you’re here to see, is sitting across the hall from you, studying you closely. Next to him is a woman you recognize as his drummer.
After these discoveries, you fully realize your current position; that you’re being held in someone’s lap. One glance at the man shows it’s Harry’s guitarist. You’re no longer embarrassed. No, now you’re completely mortified. You quickly extract yourself from his hold and stand up, looking at the group, totally speechless.
They slowly stand as well, all looking at you. And not just them, but the other dozen or so people that are still in the hallway. There are so many eyes on you, watching you, and you just want to disappear.
Picking up on your unease, Harry says, “Why don’t we go somewhere less exposed, hm? You can hang in my dressing room and maybe have a medic look you over if that’s alright?”
Without thinking you begin to nod your head, just wanting to get somewhere quiet with less people. He reaches out as though to place his hand on your back and lead you but seems to think again and pulls his arm back. Instead, he walks ahead, and you follow, Mitch and Sarah coming as well.
You arrive at the room, groaning when you see more people waiting there. One’s the medic Harry mentioned, another is obviously a police officer, and the third is a man you don’t recognize.
“Harry, need to you choose your outfit and get dressed. We’ll take care of, uhm, sorry I didn’t catch your name,” says the man.
“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say immediately, surprised at just how scratchy your voice comes out.
Sarah must pick up on it because she asks you, “Would you like a cup of tea love?”
You can’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that.
“What’s go funny?” she asks, smiling as well.
“It’s just, your scent, it definitely smells like tea. And the first thing you say to me is about tea. Sorry, I know it’s not polite to comment on someone else’s smell,” you finish, head lowering in a new wave of embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended,”
“Plus, you’re right,” Harry adds. “Swear I can’t make a cup of tea without thinking of her.”
“Aw, H, you think of me? How sweet,” she says with a joking tone.
“Real sweet,” Mitch says, then adds, “But stay away from my girl.”
You smile watching the easy interaction, happy to be distracted by their banter, sipping on the tea Sarah brings you.
That is until the man, whom you’ve learned is Harry’s manager, Jeff, reminds Harry that he’s supposed to be getting dressed, and the cop and medic walk over to you. There’s a table in one corner of the room and they lead you to it.
“Y/N, I’m Kate, I’m just going to get your vitals and check you over to make sure you’re okay, is that alright with you?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply.
“And I’m Officer Michaels, is it okay if I ask you some questions about the incident tonight?"
“Of course.”
And so, as Kate does a quick exam you tell the whole story to the officer, starting with the uneasy feeling when you first noticed the man, all the way to him using his alpha voice to corner you in a back hallway.
Harry had reentered the room by this point, dressed in his show outfit and looking completely ready to get on stage. But he’s making no moves to leave the room, even though Jeff is reminding him the show is supposed to start in five minutes. Mitch and Sarah leave to finish getting ready themselves.
“Are we all set here?” You ask Kate and Officer Michaels.
“I have everything I need,” he replies. Kate adds, “Everything checks out just fine,” and they both exit the room as well.
This leaves you with just Harry and Jeff.
“Great, so I guess I should go back to the pit then?” You knew you were holding everything up and didn’t want to be more in the way than you already have been.
“Actually, Y/N, it would probably be best if you stay here for the show. Jeff, can you go grab Jada for me?”
The man nods, leaving you alone in the room with Harry. He motions to the couch, inviting you to sit and you do so. He sits on the coffee table facing you.
“I know you want to see the concert, and I know the man is gone, but I have to admit, my alpha is a bit on edge right now. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I could go out there and perform if you’re not completely safe. I would really like it if you stayed in this room and watched the concert on the TV over there. I promise to get you and your friends tickets to another show, alright?”
You’re taken aback by this, surprised by how much he seems to care about you, a random fan he’s never met before. And knowing that his alpha was triggered by what happened to the point where it’s still uneasy is a pretty big deal. That normally doesn’t happen with strangers. Sarah was no longer worried, and the alpha security guards were completely fine the second they caught the man.
So why was Harry’s alpha still calling the shots? It would make sense if you were partners, or at the very least, friends. Maybe Harry does truly care that deeply about all of his fans. That must be it. Because it certainly can’t be you in particular. There’s nothing special about you, other than being a damsel in distress and nearly derailing his show.
He must see the confusion on your face and continues, “Jada will be here in a moment, and she’ll hang out with you. Anything you need, just ask her. I won’t see you after the show, I leave right from the stage, but talk to Jada and Jeff and they’ll make sure you get home safely.”
“Okay, thank you so much for everything,” you reply.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Y/N, I am so very sorry something like this happened to you here. I always want this to be a fun, safe place for everyone.”
“It’s not your fault. Please, don’t feel bad. It is completely that knothead’s fault. You guys are the ones that saved me.”
He reaches forward and places his hand on top of yours, just for a second. Your hand tingles as he pulls away, like a bolt of electricity had just gone through it. You meet his eyes, and see he felt it too. You stare at each other, frozen for a moment, until there’s another knock at the door.
Harry stands quickly and introduces you to Jada as she joins you on the couch.
“Okay, I have to go before Jeff kills me. Y/N please give Jada your contact info so we can get those new tickets to you. Get some safe,” he says.
“Thank you, break a leg,” you reply and a second later he’s gone.
You talk to Jada throughout the start of the show, smiling as she lets you in on some behind the scenes info about the tour. After a few songs she asks if there’s anything she can get you.
“I actually have kind of a weird favor. I was supposed to come with a friend, but she couldn’t come at the last minute. I promised to send her videos and she’s going to be suspicious if I don’t have any. Would you be able to take a couple videos from the pit? I just don’t want to have to explain what happened. At least, not yet.”
“Of course, girl, I’ve got you. I’ll go get a couple of the next songs. Are you okay in here? There’s security outside the door so no one will be able to get in.”
“Yea, I’ll be fine,” you reply with a smile.
She walks out and you sink into the couch, grateful for a few minutes alone. Everyone has been so lovely, but it’s been a lot, and you need a minute just to breathe. You close your eyes, relaxing your body, and when you’re fully calm, you smell it.
There’s another alpha scent, but not one of a person nearby. No, it’s in the fabric of the couch. And the blanket next to you. And the shirt draped over the back of the couch.
It’s Harry’s scent. And it’s amazing. So clean, and fresh, with hints of chocolate, and the forest, and something sweet. Maybe roses, you think. Definitely a hint of floral. And once you catch the scent, it’s all you can think about, like it’s wrapped you in a warm hug. You feel better than you have in hours, the stress of the day fully washing away.
Even when Jada comes back, Harry’s smell is what you focus on the most. She notices you’re quieter than before and must assume you’re just tired from everything that has happened. She goes back out towards the end of the show to grab another video and you can’t help yourself. You turn to the side, right where the shirt is, and purposely take a deep breath. It’s almost overwhelming, your omega telling you to steal the shirt so you’ll always have the delicious scent with you.
That snaps you back to reality. You need to get your omega under control. You’re just like every other fan, thirsting for the amazing Harry Styles. Get a grip, you tell your omega. He’ll never be ours, don’t get attached.
Jada comes back, the show ends, and she leads you to a car that will bring you home. She asks for your car keys and ensures someone else will grab it from the station and drop it off at your place. She rides with you back to your home, along with a security guard.
You exchange numbers during the drive and breathe a sigh of relief when your apartment building comes into view. It’s been an exhausting day, and you can’t wait for a hot shower and your comfy bed.
You thank Jada for everything and notice them waiting for you to get safely inside before driving away.
You scorch your skin in the shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and burrow under your covers.
You fall asleep that night not thinking of the horrible alpha, and the horrors of the day, but rather of green eyes, soft hands on yours, and the delicious scent that can only belong to Harry.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, (requests), please let me know!
I hope I got everyone who asked to be added to the taglist. If I didn't get you or you want to me added just leave a comment or a message!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305 @creativelyeva @daphnesutton @selluequestrian @lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely @eversincehs1
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journey-to-the-attic · 6 months ago
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3rd anniversary req 21: [DDVD] levi, satan, beel / babysitting
ao3 link
note: i tried to incorporate most of what the request form said - hope you're happy with this, anon! this one's just precious <3
∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎
“Behave,” Lucifer says sternly, and shuts the door.
Levi exchanges a look with Satan. For some reason, he gets the feeling that Lucifer was talking to them, and not the toddler clinging to the back of Satan’s leg.
He cranes his neck down. IK is already staring wistfully at the door. Satan would probably compare her to a lost kitten; Levi thinks the look is more akin to a sad Lotan.
“Beel’s in the kitchen,” He says to Satan in an undertone, and the two of them hastily adjourn to three-sevenths of a family meeting.
Couldn't Lucifer have picked any other day for whatever fancy reservation he's made for their date? It's clear he doesn't entirely trust the only three babysitters available. He knows this because Lucifer added all three of them to a hastily-made, very secret group chat a few hours ago - to warn them of what would happen if anything went wrong. 
The three of them sit silently around the kitchen table for about five minutes. Finally, Satan clears his throat, and looks at Levi.
“You’re the oldest here,” He says. “You should know what to do.”
Levi grimaces. “Well, I don’t.”
The three of them look to IK, who is sitting solemnly in the head chair. None of them know where Lucifer keeps her booster seat, so she can only just about see over the edge of the table. (IK usually protests about having to use it, so she seems happy with the situation.)
“It can’t be that hard,” Satan mutters, mostly to himself. “If Lucifer can handle it.”
Usually that means no one else can, Levi thinks, but wisely chooses not to say this out loud. But it can’t be that different to what we usually do… right? I mean, I guess we don’t really do the proper care stuff. That’s Zhao’s thing. We just hang out with her…
“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles.
Satan blinks, then tilts his head to the side and leans forward. “Sorry?”
“Pom-pom,” IK repeats, louder this time.
“I don’t… what’s ‘pom-pom’? Is it one of your toys?”
“Hmph,” IK says, then hops down from her chair and toddles out of the kitchen with such authority that none of them think to stop her.
It takes Beel’s phone going off to bring them back to reality. Lucifer has sent them, rather aptly, a parenting book. Satan decides to stay behind to read it while Beel and Levi are sent to wrangle the kid - and figure out what she’s actually after.
IK hasn’t made it far. She still can’t get up the stairs on her own, nor can she open any of the doors without full-body ramming into them, so she’s only managed to make it a little way down the corridor.
“Pom-pom,” She insists when they catch up with her.
“We don’t have pom-pom,” Levi says a little breathlessly, even though he really didn’t go that fast. “Can’t you just tell us what you want?”
IK cannot, apparently. She leads them on a merry chase in about five circles around the ground floor (she kicks every time they try to pick her up) before finally sitting down in a huff in the middle of the living room. Levi’s secretly a little grateful for the chance to rest his legs - this is the most he’s moved in the last month.
“The floor’s cold,” Beel says patiently, attempting to pick her up. IK manages to wiggle cleanly out of his hands and goes straight back to the ground. “Come on, let’s go sit somewhere comfy, okay?”
“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles, beginning to look a little tearful. The look on her face makes it clear: if Lucifer was here, he’d totally know what to do by now. 
It’s, quite frankly, unfair. He’s already good at everything else. Levi had really expected childcare to be the one thing to trip him up.
Situations like these really call for Asmo. Once again, Levi finds himself wondering why in hell he’s here.
“IK,” He tries - unable to muster one of Asmo’s many pet names and resorting instead to sounding as pathetic as possible, in hopes that she’ll take pity on him. “IK, c’mon. Wanna come see Henry? You like Henry.”
Beel tries to pick her up again. IK gives him a severe, uncannily Lucifer-like look, then stubbornly slips down until she's lying flat on her back.
“We need some blocks,” Satan announces, walking into the room with far too much confidence. “Do we have blocks?”
“Of course we don’t,” Levi says miserably, about two minutes away from lying on the floor himself. “Why would we?”
“Then I will go find some blocks,” Satan says decisively, and walks straight back out again.
IK stays on the ground, staring blankly up into the ceiling. She doesn’t look as if she’s throwing a tantrum so much as she looks like she’s lost all hope in the world. It kind of hurts his heart.
He glances up at Beel. His brother’s brow is deeply furrowed in thought. After a moment, he sits down, and carefully pushes his palm underneath IK’s head. If she won’t get up, at least he can give her a pillow.
Satan comes back with a crate that he says Lucifer’s been keeping in his study (which is supposed to be locked right now, but that’s on Lucifer for not using a strong enough charm), and produces a set of patterned blocks that he attempts to gently encourage IK to play with. All IK does is hold them limply.
“Maybe she needs a nap?” Beel suggests, but IK doesn’t seem to like that idea. In fact, after hearing the word, she appears to start deliberately keeping her eyes open for as long as possible out of spite.
Satan looks something up on his phone - steadfastly refusing to call Lucifer - then abruptly hurries off again. He comes back with some cardboard, a ball of wool, and a pair of scissors. IK lifts her head to watch him with interest as he sets about snipping and tying. Finally:
“There you are,” Satan announces triumphantly, and presents IK with a little green ball of fluff. “A pom-pom.”
IK sits up and holds it blankly. Then she shakes her head.
The dismay on Satan’s face would be funny if Levi didn’t feel terrible for him. “No? Is it the wrong colour?”
“Pom-pom,” IK says sadly.
“Fine…” He reaches out to take it back, only for IK to snatch the pom-pom-that-isn't-the-right-pom-pom back. “Hey. I thought you didn’t want it.”
“Mine,” She mumbles stubbornly, and dodges his next grab as well. “Mine!”
“But it’s not your pom-pom, is it?” Satan asks, now beginning to grin. “Come on, give it back.”
“No!” IK scrambles to her knees, then shuffles to hide behind Beel’s broad back. “Mine!”
“I made it! Give it back!”
“NO!”
Clutching the pom-pom, IK jumps to her feet - and, wobbling unsteadily from side to side, full-on sprints out of the living room.
Satan reacts first, almost as if he were expecting it. Hauling himself to his feet, he practically gallops after her, leaving Beel and Levi in stunned silence, still sitting helplessly on the floor.
“I didn’t know she could go that fast,” Levi says after a moment. “Do you think Mammon’s been teaching her?”
“We should probably go after them…” Beel glances down at the crate. “Should we bring the blocks?”
Satan has cornered IK in the library when they catch up with them. Even as they sidle awkwardly through the door, she looks sharply around the room, spots the still-ajar door to Lucifer’s office, and promptly zooms inside. Satan, of course, doesn’t hesitate to do the same.
Levi follows just in time to see him double-evade her around the desk, then shoot forward and sweep her cleanly off the ground - “Got you!”
“No!” IK insists, even though she’s giggling so loudly that the word is barely discernible.
“No? Certainly looks like you’re— ow!”
Something has flown out of Lucifer’s desk and propelled itself directly into Satan’s face - so hard that he’s shoved backwards into a cabinet and knocks a bottle off its stand. IK does not help things grabbing a fistful of his hair to keep herself steady.
“What the—” On closer inspection, the thing that came out of the desk appears to be a little stuffed pigeon. As Satan spins around, attempting to regain his bearings, it folds its wings and jabs its little felt beak at his eyes.
“What do we do?!” Levi yelps, hands braced to do something, though he hasn’t the faintest idea what.
IK isn’t giggling so much as she is wailing now - Satan, though still reeling, has enough sense to pass her off to Levi before attempting to wave the pigeon off. His arms windmill around so wildly that it’s only a matter of time before he—
“Oof!” Levi manages to shield the back of IK’s head with his hand, but his own nose isn’t so lucky. “Watch where your hands are going!”
“I’m getting attacked!” Satan snarls, and looks one peck away from zapping the pigeon into dust. “Do something!”
“What am I supposed to do?!”
Beel, at this point finally stepping into the situation, clearly has more wits about him than either of them. He surveys the situation, steps forward, and plucks the pigeon cleanly from the air.
It goes straight to ferociously attacking its fingers. Without the momentum of flight on its side, though, its blows are virtually harmless. At this, Levi hesitantly lowers his hand from IK’s head.
“This definitely has Lucifer written all over it,” Satan grunts, a hand pressed over his eye. “Smug bas… ahem. Am I bleeding?”
Levi leans over and peers at his face for a moment. “Nah, you’re good.”
He lowers his hand, but he doesn’t look any less mutinous. “Who gave him the idea of putting toy security in his desk?”
“I don’t think it’s security,” Beel says, holding the pigeon’s head still with one hand and reading its label with the other. “I think it’s a toy for IK. See?”
The company name does check out. That doesn’t explain why it comes to life and attacks people, though.
“Well, it’s not a spell I’ve seen anywhere before, so don’t look at me,” Satan grumbles.
Beel inspects the plush pigeon for another moment, then (still carefully holding it still) holds it out to IK. She looks frightened - but, under his reassuring gaze, slowly reaches out, and bumps a little fist to its beak.
The pigeon immediately stills. Levi would’ve thought he’d just hallucinated the whole thing if it weren’t for the red mark on Satan’s forehead.
“Oh,” says Satan himself, realisation dawning. “He enchanted it. That’s…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but clearly he isn’t angry anymore. Beel gently presses the pigeon into IK’s arms, and it comes briefly to life again to tuck its head lovingly against her cheek.
“That isn’t an easy enchantment,” Satan murmurs, wiping his brow. “He’s probably not done testing it.”
“Looks like it works fine to me,” Levi says, watching IK attempt to feed the pigeon her green pom-pom. “Do you like it, IK?”
“Mmm,” IK says, flapping the pigeon’s wings. The pom-pom falls out of her arms and lands softly on the floor.
She notices its absence after a moment and makes a sound of dismay. Satan huffs, then stoops to pick it up for her.
“At least you like it,” He mutters, passing it back to her. “Are you sure it’s not your pom-pom?”
IK shakes her head seriously. She gazes at him for a moment, then mumbles something and makes a gesture in his general direction. Levi obligingly leans forward.
“What now?” Satan sighs, but ducks down to her level anyway. “Are you going to hit me, too?”
Far from it. IK pats his cheek until he stops frowning, then stretches up to the red mark on his brow and gives it a kiss.
“...oh.”
If Levi didn’t know better, he’d say Satan was dangerously close to tears. His brother clears his throat and offers a slightly shaky smile. “Thanks.”
IK hums, then pulls both pigeon and pom-pom tight to her chest, and tucks her head under Levi’s chin. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a sharp squeak, like a poorly-oiled door.
“I think it’s time for a nap now,” Beel says, watching her with a little smile. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” He agrees, voice quivering, and follows him out of the office. Satan stays behind briefly to shut the drawer the pigeon flew out of, but doesn’t bother re-locking the door.
The crate of toys is still sitting in the middle of the library. Levi gingerly lowers himself into an armchair and lets IK figure out how she wants to sleep; Beel sits down on the floor directly opposite him and contents himself with watching her.
Satan stands silently for a while, then settles beside the toy crate and starts methodically stacking the blocks himself. Levi watches him, too afraid of disturbing IK to move.
“She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up,” says Beel, setting his chin on his knees. “I think there are some strawberries left in the kitchen.”
“We need something more substantial than fruit.” Satan sets the final block on his tower, then promptly knocks the whole thing over and starts again. “Sandwiches, maybe…”
IK isn't asleep for long before she abruptly startles awake again. Levi opens his mouth to say something sappy that'd usually come out of Asmo - then quickly realises that something's up. 
"What?" Satan asks, sitting up. 
"I don't..."
IK is practically ramrod-straight in his arms. Her eyes are open, but she stares directly ahead of her, far into the distance.
Beel lifts his head and rises to his knees. "Give her here."
Levi can't do anything but acquiesce. IK doesn't respond at first, but almost as soon as she leaves Levi's arms, she takes in a sharp breath, and begins to whimper. 
"Wait—" Instinctively, he tries to snatch her back, but Beel holds firm. "Why... what's wrong?!"
"Nightmare," says Beel shortly. "Belphie used to do the same thing. Can you go get some water?"
It might be the fastest Levi has ever gone to do something. Beel doesn't get IK to drink it - instead, he dips a finger in, and draws a streak across her forehead. At this, IK pauses, eyes wide. 
Satan darts to pick up the pigeon from where it's fallen to the floor. It begins to move as soon as he presses it to IK's face - fluttering its wings and gently grazing its cheek against hers. Levi imagines he hears it coo. 
"Hi," Beel murmurs, doing the same trick with the water again This time, IK makes a sound of protest. "Don't worry, it's gone now."
IK mumbles something and twists away, attempting to wipe her forehead. Beel smiles and does it for her. "...there. That's how you know she's awake again."
"Bad dream, huh?" Satan clicks his tongue sympathetically, then leans down and kisses her forehead - returning the favour from earlier. "Are you still tired?"
She blinks slowly, then makes a quiet noise of affirmation. Beel nods seriously. "You can sleep again, then. We'll keep you safe, okay? Your dad will be home soon."
"Okay," IK whispers, and closes her eyes again.
———
Some time later, Belphie gets home. By that weird twin-sense he shares with Beel, he comes straight to the library. Since IK went back to sleep, Levi's taken a turn on the building blocks, for want of something to do. 
“Do you know where IK’s pom-pom is?” Satan asks without looking up from his book.
“Huh?” Belphie drops his bag with a loud yawn. “What d’you mean, where?”
“She wouldn’t stop asking about it.” Levi precariously sets one tower on top of another. “We didn’t know what it was.”
“Oh, she wants pom-pom? That’s easy,” Belphie says with infuriating nonchalance, then wanders across the room, where IK is beginning to stir in Beel’s lap. “Hey, twinkle-star.”
The three of them can only watch in dawning realisation as Belphie crouches down, shifts seamlessly into demon form, then offers the end of his tail like it’s some kind of toy. IK blinks at him, then scrambles up and makes a grab for the fluffy bit at the end.
“Oh.” says Beel a little weakly. “You were talking about Belphie’s tail the whole time?”
“Pom-pom,” IK says happily.
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ryuichirou · 6 months ago
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More dark hcs
We have a bunch of asks about some dark-themed hcs, I’ll try to reply to everything today. As always, it took me ages, but I am still grateful for these asks. Thank you to all the Anons in this post!
Ships mentioned in this post: Ortho/Idia (Igni mob/Idia), Floyd/Idia, Jade/Idia, Trey/Idia, Trey/Vil
Anonymous asked:
Do you have yandere headcanons for tweels? Or they are not much different in your opinion?
In terms of darkness and fucked-up-ness, they really aren’t very different; I feel like every single hc list we have for the tweels is somewhat dark, but! A yandere is a bit different because yandere’s actions are motivated by obsessive love and devotion.
And I am not saying that Jade and Floyd with their “now I’m interested, now I’m not” personalities can’t get obsessive, but it’s a bit more tricky for me to think about them in this scenario. But “tricky” doesn’t mean “impossible”, so yes, I do in fact have some yandere headcanons for them! I hope I don’t repeat myself though, sorry if I do.
The target of their obsession in this list is Idia, I hope this is okay with you.
Alright, let’s go then:
Anonymous asked:
Just to complete all of Idia’s evil exes, how about headcanons for the Tweels and Trey as yanderes for him (Sorry, Idia, I swear I do love you 😭)
(Idia deserves all the love, especially if it’s obsessive, Anon….)
Jade+Floyd/Idia:
The more Idia tries to avoid them, the more obsessive they become. They didn’t mind him paying attention to other people and doing other stuff at first, but the more Idia openly avoids the Tweels, the more they want him. At first they just started to get clingier: Floyd literally started touching and hugging Idia all the time, Jade – texting Idia every other minute and cooking for him. It was almost funny and cute at first (not to Idia though): it’s as if Idia just got two love interests at the same time!
One day they would just break every single gadget and machine in his room. For no reason other than they really wanted his attention, and he didn’t give it to them. Of course, Idia would be absolutely distraught after that, but it’s okay, they are here to cuddle him while he is having a panic attack. Or haze him more… these two are such childish jealous brats sometimes. They might even dispose of Ortho if there is “no other choice” for them.
Sometimes they get jealous of each other too, but it’s mostly just Floyd getting fussy. Still, it was Jade’s suggestion to start marking Idia’s body just so they each know which part of him belongs to whom. Sometimes they start arguing about it, but it’s for a show: they know that Idia gets nervous and scared because of that, so if they poke him enough, he might start promising things! Like, maybe he’d give one part of his to Jade first, but then give it to Floyd… what other things Idia could promise them? They wonder.
DMMD Virus and Trip Ending. If you know, you know. If you don’t know: I think they would kidnap him at some point and keep him as their plaything. Sometimes they would take turns, sometimes they would have sex with him together, sometimes they would just sit there and talk about how everyone else is doing while Idia is stuck here with these two. Idia’s body got used to the pain (and pleasure), but the emotional torture keeps Idia’s wounds fresh.
If this is what happens, they would make everyone think that Idia is dead because now he only exists to be their precious toy. Even Azul wouldn’t know that Idia is still alive, and the Tweels would find it hilarious because they would have a somber conversation with Azul about how horrible Idia’s fate is, and then come back home to see him tied to a bed, hungry, miserable and barely resembling a human being. But oh so loved!
Trey/Idia:
Maybe one of the reasons why Trey got so obsessed with Idia is that Idia sees right through him (even though Trey’s also in denial about many things about himself). And while choosing whether to be wary of Trey or to call him out for his lies, Idia chose both… At first, Trey felt confusion, but then his interest in Idia just kept growing, and then he started to show up in his dorm again and again. People started gossiping  that these two are dating, and that Idia probably used some kind of charm or love potion to attract Trey. The second part is obviously false, but the dating part became true at some point… somehow.
Yes, teeth, OF COURSE we’re going to talk about teeth, come on, it’s Trey. Trey brushes Idia’s teeth for him. At first he just checked on his teeth every morning and evening, then one time he brushed Idia’s teeth for him just to show him a proper way to do it… but now he does it 3 times per day every single day. This isn’t just him taking care of Idia’s teeth (even though he always talks about how Idia isn’t going to do a good job if Trey isn’t helping him, and somehow phrase it in a nice way), this is him having a special tradition only for them…
Idia knows that Trey is bad news, and he doesn’t even fully understand why they started dating, but he just can’t resist him anymore. Trey seems so wishy-washy to others, but Idia knows that he could be stubborn and strict in a very sneaky way. They never argue, but Idia still can never “win” somehow – he always has to do what Trey thinks would be best for him. And Trey genuinely believes that he knows best, sometimes he thinks that Idia is a bit… inadequate at living. But he feels it very lovingly, very parentally, but still very-very sexually somehow… in his ideal world, Idia would rely on him so much that he would stop doing anything by himself, even the most basic things.
Idia never talks to anyone, but if he does, Trey gets jealous. He is very jealous of whoever Idia is talking to while he is playing games. Sometimes he wishes he could just break all of his computers and stuff like the Tweels would, but these aren’t his methods. His methods are to poison Idia’s sweets to make him so sick that he wouldn’t be able to do anything but throw up, cry and cling to Trey for a couple of days. It’s okay, when he gets better, Trey will nurse him right back and make sure he eats plenty.
He is very protective of Idia, and if someone is legitimately mean to him, he’ll never forgive that person. For some reason it’s easier for him to stand up against Idia’s bullies than to stand up against Riddle’s mom lol Anyways, with his mind being all messed up because of this obsession, he might actually do the yandere thing of killing a bunch of people for Idia’s sake. He’ll never let Idia know about it of course, but Idia isn’t stupid: he can see that something about Trey’s eyes changed. And he is legitimately scared of him.
Yeah, speaking of Trey! What a smooth segue lol
Anonymous asked:
Hi, I really like your character thoughts! I was wondering if you dive a bit into Trey's darker side and some more TreyVil headcanons? Thank you!
Thank you for enjoying our posts, Anon! <3 Trey/Vil as a ship doesn’t appear here very often, but I feel like whenever I think about them together, they just keep growing on me woah.
Of course Trey is obsessed with Vil’s teeth, that’s a given. And even though Trey doesn’t have Rook levels of dedication to his creepiness craft and doesn’t know everyone’s dental situation, he still thinks that Vil is one of the best ones. He was also lucky enough to witness Vil’s evening routine once, and while Vil found it intimate in a subtle way, to Trey it was so much more than that. He started dreaming about the way Vil brushes his teeth all the time. It’s so elegant, but still a bit messy (a little bit of toothpaste stuck to his lip for a couple of seconds before he rinses his mouth…), but also absolutely perfect, but also so… vulnerable before Trey’s eyes. He really wanted to masturbate while touching his teeth.
The fact that Vil is more experienced and sexually aware than some other potential partners of Trey is something that Trey has to constantly keep in mind. He does enjoy Vil being flirty and even hinting at things at times, but at the same time, if Trey gets too horny, Vil will definitely notice and address it. And it’s great when the timing is more or less appropriate, but if Vil notices that Trey is horned up when they’re discussing things like dental hygiene (embarrassing) or something horrible (like things that happen in the film industry)… then Vil might realise that he gets bad vibes from Trey for a reason and stop talking to him, and Trey doesn’t want that.
Trey has a rape kink, and he wishes it was purely hypothetical. Sometimes he has intrusive thoughts when he chats or hangs out with Vil about how technically he could assault him right here, or at least try to (since Vil isn’t that easy to assault). But would the thrill be worth the risk? Trey usually decides that it wouldn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes he dreams about different scenarios in which he would rape Vil. And he isn’t always fully asleep when he has these dreams…
One time Trey saw Vil being very puzzled, angry and a bit embarrassed. He knew exactly why, but asked him about what was going on anyway, and after avoiding answering for some time, Vil confessed that somebody stole his used underwear. Trey expressed that this was super messed up and comforted Vil, gently ensuring him that it will be okay… and it’s honestly a miracle that Vil didn’t notice that Trey was lying through his teeth. Of course it was him who stole it. Another intrusive thought.
Trey would love to make Vil obsessed with his cakes, and by “obsessed” I mean “literally addicted”. Vil is way too good at avoiding sweets, but this could be changed if Trey figures out how to make a potion, one drop of which would make anyone who takes a bite addicted to this food forever. Of course, Vil is great at potions, and there is no way just any potion would work on him, so for now Trey is experimenting and using his own dormmates as guinea pigs. This is his private science project that he has to keep in secret from both Vil AND Rook…
Or something among the lines~
Alright, I don’t have a segue for this one, but let’s come back to Idia for a moment because we have another ask about him!
This is related to this post.
Anonymous asked:
I know you went into this in another post but what other ways has Ortho had other students haze Idia?
Alright, a couple of more ideas! Not a lot though, because I can’t share some because I want to draw them, and also I am a bit tired lol but still, I am happy you like this theme, Anon! You’re inspiring me to think about it more…
Ortho didn’t intend it to be a roast, but he made the other students chant at Idia about his love for Ortho when he left his room one time. This poor guy opened the door and got called a brocon by like 40 people. He got so terrified and shocked that he couldn’t move for a minute.
Another one that Ortho didn’t expect to end up being so evil is that he let the other students into Idia’s room at night and let them steal all of his clothes + his blanket, including the ones he was wearing while asleep. Idia woke up completely naked with zero clothes and a bunch of people outside waiting for him to laugh at him and take pictures.
Another time when Ortho let the guys into Idia’s room at night was when he wanted them to wake him up in a fun way! And the guys ambushed his bed, grabbing him, jumping on him, spraying him with water and making loud noises into his ears. After that Idia started stuttering, and it continued for a week… it’s a miracle it went away, to be honest. And also he pissed himself.
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queenofbaws · 1 month ago
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while im at it, how about some ashley n matt!! ur choice on if thats platonic or more :0 i just think the world needs more of these guys together ;w;
She felt a little bit like her mom's ancient desktop PC for a moment after it happened - buffering, buffering, still buffering. And that was an exaggeration, obviously, but not by much; the weight, the warmth, the sudden waft of leftover cologne, it scrambled her thoughts! Shook them up, at the very least.
That was the only excuse she could come up with for the blank look she gave him, anyway. Ashley had to figure it was a heck of a look, too, because even as she was still struggling to process the fact she was wearing his letterman jacket, Matt was laughing.
"Aw man, didn't mean to make you jump like that, Ash! Sorry, you just looked cold - you're all hunched over and stuff." With a little huff, he dropped himself back onto the bench beside her, resuming the pen-tapping he'd been doing before getting up to throw their lunch wrappers out. He bent over the project outline spread between them, frowned as he started reading again, and...that was that.
So. Great.
This was a her thing, then.
Ashley tried to go back to the project. She tried to go back to her notes. She tried to go back to thinking, end of sentence, but it just wasn't happening. There was something about the idea of them sitting there like that out in the open courtyard where anyone could see, side-to-side and leaning forward as if conspiring, their backpacks set on the bench opposite to be out of the way, the content of their conversation kept low under the distant sound of the baseball team squeezing in some last-minute practice. It was something she knew she could've named, had she not been so frazzled, something that made her face burn and her chest go tight, something...something that took on a decidedly different sort of flavor now that his jacket was draped over her shoulders.
"I, um, I'm fine, actually. Thanks, but, um, here, you should take this back." It was only half a lie - the flush in her ears and cheeks and neck hadn't taken long to spread everywhere else, turning the chilly fall afternoon into something stifling - but that half was the trickier part, making her tongue heavy and slow and stupid. Which Matt noticed.
How could he not?
"You...sure?" he asked slowly, watching her shrug the jacket off with what might've been surprise, but just as easily could've been amusement. "Believe it or not, I do actually wash that thing sometimes, so if you're worried it's just some kind of glorified sweat rag, I prooomise you it's not."
"No, it's - " She cringed at the sound of her own voice, shrill with social anxiety, tight with...well, something else altogether. " - I appreciate it, Matt, I mean, seriously, I do, but...I...I can't. So. Thanks. It was super nice of you, but...I'm fine. Really. Thanks." After a frankly ridiculous amount of time, considering all she had to do was slide the freaking thing off, she held it back out to him, doing her best to seem nonchalant.
To literally no one's surprise, it didn't exactly work.
"You...can't," Matt repeated, setting his pen down on the table before his arm followed suit, his posture loose and comfortable and cool as a cucumber as he set his head on his hand to get a better look at her.
"That's not what I meant to say. I'm just...this is due by the end of the week, you know."
"Yeah, I know, I'm just really, really curious now."
Oh God, she'd had nightmares like this. "Matt," she sighed, feeling another surge of blood shoot to the tips of her ears. "Would you take this seriously? This is the last group project of the semester, and I'd really - "
"Are you cold?"
"I...that's not important!"
"I think it is."
That got her. Without meaning to, Ashley turned, unsure whether she meant for her glare to be exasperated or pleading. Probably the latter. It usually was.
Matt, as always, met her halfway. He didn't shy away from the look, didn't roll his eyes or snicker like Josh and Chris did when playfully antagonizing her. He just...waited. The jacket hung between them, heavy in her hand; the question hung there too, unspoken but just as weighty.
Because she knew he wouldn't make fun of her, that he wouldn't tease her or try to deflect by cracking a seriously unfunny joke, she sighed, averting her eyes. "There's still a lot of people hanging around here."
"I guess."
"A lot of people, Matt," she said, taking great pains to really emphasize the point, "who...you know...might see me wearing this."
His eyebrows dropped, but only slightly. "Okay?" he replied, dragging the word out to goad her along, and oh, come on! He was really going to make her spell it out?
"People...assume things, all right? They...talk. I really appreciate the gesture, it was totally sweet of you and everything, but...people might think we're...I don't know..." She shrugged, shook her head, shrugged again, and all the while, the mean little voice in the back of her head tittered with locker room laughter and study hall whispers - harbingers of the rumors she could already hear rolling fresh and hot off the gossip mill. "They might think we're dating, or...or something."
He was quiet for a second. A second she spent waiting for the jacket to be taken from her, plucked aside without further comment.
Again, it didn't exactly work out that way.
"Would that be so bad?" He did laugh then, albeit softly, lifting his shoulders in a shrug of his own when she whipped her head around to stare. "I'm asking! You don't think there are worse things for people to say? I mean, don't get me wrong, Ash, I know after that pass I fumbled at our last away game I'm kind of embarrassing to be seen around, but - "
It was out of her mouth before she could bite down on it: "I'm the embarrassing one." And then it was just there, fogging the air in glimmery motes of frost as if to prove she'd said it, to drive home how, whoops, sorry, there'd be no taking it back now. She bit her lip a second too late, worrying it between her teeth until it ached, and...and then Matt nudged her with his shoulder, pushing the jacket back towards her.
"No, you're not," he said, and his voice was so firm, so self-assured, that she almost believed him. "But you are the cold one. So...c'mon. If people want to think I'm your boyfriend, at least let them think I'm a good one, right?"
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A Collared Lamb [1]
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Robbie Paulson x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 14: BDSM
Summary: Robbie goes to a club.
A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.
Warnings: BDSM clubs, nerves, drinking, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 953
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Robbie shifts a little nervously in his seat, holding his beer bottle a fraction too tightly in his hand. 
It was his first time in the club, The Collared Lamb, and part of him had regretted it instantly. 
Everyone was beautiful, stunning in their BDSM attire. There were a few people like him, dressed more ordinarily. But not many. 
He shouldn’t have been so worried about sticking out, he should have had the guts to at least wear something, maybe then someone would approach him. 
Everyone had different coloured wristbands to choose from when they came in, so it was easier to show what you were there for. He had chosen a light blue one - sub, and a bright green - available. 
This was such a bad idea, such a stupid idea just to rock up. Most people knew each other, or at least had spoken briefly to new people on the online message board. Most people introduced themselves there before they went for the first time. Robbie had meant to, he really had. He’d wanted to, he’d tried. But he just couldn’t make himself hit send. 
He hadn’t even been planning on going tonight. He shouldn’t have-
“Hi,” your voice makes him jump, he hadn’t noticed to come over and lean against the bar. 
“Oh, hi.” His voice comes out weaker than he wanted.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” You smile warmly. Oh god, you were beautiful. 
“No, sorry, I just… lost in thought.” He smiles shyly, briefly looking down to your wrist. Bright green and red - dom. He shivers. 
“First time here?” You ask kindly and he nods. “I thought so, I hope you don’t mind me saying but you seem a little shy, plus I haven’t seen you here before.” 
“You come here often?” He blurts out and then inwardly winces, but you giggle, nodding and the tension in his shoulders relaxes slightly. 
“Yeah, it’s got a nice vibe. Lots of friendly people.” You give him that warm smile again. 
He nods, “It seems like a nice vibe… I saw some stuff on the message board… I’m… I’ve been lurking there a bit.” Robbie fiddles with the label on his beer bottle as he talks. “I’m sort of… a bit…”
“You don’t have a lot of experience.” You say kindly. 
He meets your eyes and nods again. “Yeah,” he looks a little bashful. “I’m green.” He pauses then and laughs softly, holding up his wrist. “I mean, I’m green as in new, not,” he gestures to the band. 
“I get it.” You give him a grin, leaning a little closer. “I mean, I’m green too.” You raise your wrist. “As in the band, not in experience.” 
He shivers, lost for a moment in your eyes, then swallows. “I, um,” he stammers, his heart beating so fast he thinks he might pass out. “I… you’re so pretty, no, I didn’t mean to say that, not that you aren’t pretty, you’re beautiful, I mean, fuck.” He screws up his eyes, and squeezes his hands into fists to focus. 
It’s okay,” you giggle, “I like being told I’m beautiful, especially by someone as gorgeous as you.” 
Robbie opens his eyes quickly, blinking hard. His skin a little flushed. “You, um… you think…?” 
“I do.” You take the seat next to him and nod at the barman, who starts to work on your regular order.
He bites his lip as he smiles and takes a swig of his beer. “Thank you.” He says quietly. 
“Can I ask you a question?” 
He looks up and nods eagerly. 
“Your name?” 
His blush deepens, “Oh, it’s Robbie. Sorry, I should have said.”
You shake your head and then tell him your name, he repeats it slowly like he is savouring the sound. 
“So, you said you’re pretty new to this, how new are we talking?” 
He squirms a little in his seat, the sound of your voice and strength of your gaze is already sending a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t want to disappoint you. “I… well, I mean, I know there’s not lots of subs that are guys…” 
“There’s more than you’d think.” You say reassuringly and he brightens. “A lot of switches too.” 
He nods, “I just sort of… well, I don’t have a ton of experience in anything.” He’s not quite sure why he’s saying so much, just letting the words fall out of his mouth like a river. “But I always felt like, like this is something I wanted.” He shifts in his seat a little. “But, not in a…” he chews his lip as he thinks hard, trying to place the right words together. “I think a sort of soft dom is what I’d like…” He looks up at you a little timidly.
“I would agree.” You say. The barman puts your drink down and you thank him. 
“You would?” He tilts his head to the side. 
“I would,” you smile and take a sip, enjoying how he watches you raise the glass to your lips. “You don’t strike me as the kind of sub that needs a hard dom, you need… to be taken care of.” 
Heat flushes along his skin. “Yeah, I’d… that’s what I’d like.” He takes another long sip and puts his hand on the bar, practically in the middle of both of you, a little nervous twitch in his fingers. 
Slowly, you put your hand next to his, lightly placing your fingers on top of his and giving him plenty of time to move out of the way if he chooses. 
He leaves his hand exactly where it is, smiling softly when your skin touches and looking up at you with shining eager eyes.
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Thank you for reading!
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ronearoundblindly · 9 months ago
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Ro, darling
A and Q for Hideout Steve (I thought about requesting Z and then realised, for him, it’s everywhere 😂
For this ask game, and they are dirtayyyyyy.
Little different than general solo steve and I'll elaborate on when he's soft-spoken vs. loud (Low key hilarious that Hideout!Steve is soooooo sensitive and Fools!Steve is the polar opposite.)
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MINORS DNI. I know you're sick of me saying it, but this is not for youngsters. I will not hesitate to let you know when a fic is all-age friendly!
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A - Alone Time
Let's start from the beginning. When 'Grant' first starting visiting the motel, he really didn't have any dreams/delusions/fantasies about having a love life, and since Steve always imagined he'd only have sex with someone he was able to court and know pretty well, he resigned himself to never finding someone until his exile ended. (Considering in canon, it never really ended, we see he had a point.)
Once something does develop between you, despite all odds, he gets to hope, and hope is a drug to Steve Rogers.
He doesn't have a lot of time where he's truly alone while bunking with Natasha and Sam--sometimes Wanda and Viz, too--so I feel like Steve has mastered the art of innocent imagination. When he thinks of you it's not graphic, not unless he can be in a separate room or, preferably, building than the rest of his group.
They all understand though. Each of them clammers for some distance as often as is safe.
Bathing marks the only real and consistent time Steve has alone, meaning you helping wash his hair in the tub counts as a double whammy to his fantasies.
There was a lot of crossover in his dreams that night since the association is too strong. He touches himself in the shower, you were in the bathroom with him, and thus, he dreamt of you touching him in the shower. He woke up to that being almost the reality, too, so that wet dream has been pretty consistently on repeat.
From that point on, the urge to imagine what could happen gets much worse. The group doesn't have a routine. They bounce from place to place and spend wildly different amounts of time in each location. To date, the motel is only one of three places they've stayed two times, and it is the only place they've gone back to more than twice. It's not fucking rocket science to understand what's so appealing to Steve that he nudges and hints at returning as often as is strategically plausible.
If by chance Steve actually gets a room to himself and is truly alone for a few hours, it's difficult not to take advantage, spread out, and sleep, however, but he sleeps even better after writhing around as a horny mess for about twenty minutes, working himself up, humping the mattress and his hand, moaning into the pillows like a whore (at least he thinks he sounds like those 'painted' women back in the '30s and '40s), and coming hard on his abs. He vaguely knows he's a glutton for punishment by how long he tries to milk his orgasm. It works though. He can last a bit longer now--even with the vivid memory of what it feels like to be inside you--yet he doesn't really need to last when his alone time is so limited. Should he...practice that? Should he be trying to hold out longer?
Dillema!
Q - Quiet Please
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oops, sorry, got lost in my thots about how loud Steve can get while fucking you. Honestly, if you two have enough privacy, he's even goddamn noisy while eating you out.
As I hope I've established many times, Steve Rogers in any universe can't talk dirty to save his life. He can lie better than he can say words like 'fuck,' or 'cunt,' and will never ever say the word 'pussy' in reference to your body or a cat (now that he knows what some people use the term for). I have no clue why 'cunt' would be better than 'pussy,' but 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is my headcanon so here we go. He uses any curse words so seldom that it doesn't really matter. He'd have to be pretty surprised by the intensity of something or at peak possessiveness to utter stuff like that. (If he has to reference it, usually he just says "you're so wet," "you're squeezing me so tight," or "do you need me?" Very general, no bad words required.)
ANYWHO: volume.
As much as I ::melts:: love the idea of Steve getting louder when he's tired, he has grown to enjoy the thrill of being quiet and sneaky.
He's got to get his kicks somewhere, right? So he's almost trained himself to be completely silent (to the point of holding his breath, which is a whole other kink for way later) while he imagines that you can travel with them for some reason. It's a fantasy; he hasn't worked out the details. He'd still want to be buried inside you or fingering you till you come if you had to share a room with the group for a night. He'll be quiet if you will. They'll never know. He promises. Please, Tops. Please. He wants to touch you, to hold you, to feel you everywhere...
Yup, Steve can be silent as the grave or hitting opera notes; it's all good as long as he gets to be with you.
Thank you for asking!
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[Main Masterlist; Hideout Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
One more cowboy cat for the road!
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