#this is what i mean when i say I Draw And It's Everyone Else's Problem. look at my INCREDIBLY niche crossover comic boy
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cozylittleartblog · 6 months ago
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Columbo and the Knight (1984)
put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.
Autism W!
#columbo#knight rider#art#michael knight#kitt#comic#highlight reel#crossover#telebeast#there are two small easter eggs here. can you find them. they were somehow not Entirely lost when i resized these for the public#this is what i mean when i say I Draw And It's Everyone Else's Problem. look at my INCREDIBLY niche crossover comic boy#if the knight rider fandom has like 12 people in it. how many of y'all have seen columbo#this comic is for like 4 people and me and phoenix are already two of them#niche is my specialty lets be real. weird niche obscure shit and ships nobody's paid attention to yet#not to suggest this is ship art. columbo has his wife and michael has his car lmfao#stylizing real people is EXTREMELY hard btw sorry for when they get off model. its partly a 'better imperfect than never finished' situatio#cant tell you how much i redrew some of these panels. weeps#this took me 2 weeks but i think i thumbnailed it all in may and the ideas been rollin around in my head since march#is anybody good at editing. please edit michael and columbo into an image together like its a screenshot. NOT generated. edited.#it would be so cool#ive drawn columbo a lot but i haven't drawn a lot of michaels. i was learning things about his outfit AS I WAS DOING THE DAMN#COLORS ON THIS. all the lines done. it was too late to change anything. i did all the lines and colored page by page#i realized my mistakes on like page 3. 1 and 2 were already done. it was Too Late.#imagine it though. them working a case together. switching between the more serious tone of columbo vs the goofier#action antics of michael and kitt. columbo being so impressed by Modern Technology. there's more i could say but phoenix may write#more of this crossover and i don't want to spoil it :'3#there's opportunity here though i swear. there's gold to be dug.#i like how kitt gets shading but columbo's junker peugeot doesn't. kitt looked wrong without any. columbo's car is matte and dirty#i also applied effects to this to make it look a little film-grainy and VHS like. some CRT TV vibes#the only question left is. did they put knight rider into columbo; or columbo into knight rider 🤔
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sexybread-png · 17 days ago
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hello everyone twt suspended me for a week (theres still 3-4 days left) so i have been a little bit bored but i figured i should post here anyways siiigghh
details under the cut
ok so the want of making an elphaba fashion exploration has been there since ive watched the movie but the urge really came to me after i explained to my friends how NOT masculine elphaba's outfit was in one of my drawings (i doodled the full outfit in the top right corner)
it really irked me when multiple comments were made abt how i was part of the ppl masculinizing cynthia's elphaba when i really put thought and effort into elphaba's fashion (as well as glinda's) in every drawing i make of her. like the cut of her sweater and the frills on her pants are very feminine-- pants are not inherently masculine (and neither are muscles but thats another conversation). i did want to explore her fashion with only pants to show how feminine pants outfits could be but i had admittedly not drawn her in as many skirts/dresses as glinda so i decided i should.
HOWEVER i do want to add. galinda's fashion is like. hyper fucking feminine. next to her, anyone would look less feminine... i mean she wears sm pink and bows and frills and shit... i find it a bit of a disservice to many artists for ppl to complain about elphaba's feminity compared to galinda's when they just dont wear the same kind of clothes.
okay a bit of a commentary not about my drawings at all but : theres also the comments on how ppl would never make galinda wear masc clothing when. thats simply not true a lot of ppl call her an egg even AND the movie versions of them are not the first. i suspect many ppl would use the same or similar hcs they had for other versions of gelphie and transfer them over. WHICH to be clear there is a problem of masculinizing black women in fandom and as an artist it is my responsibility to portray her with utmost respect. im not saying racial biases dont have a play in ppl's headcanons, but i do think excluding the history of the fandom of wicked from these hcs makes it... less true? less of a full truth maybe? do you know what i mean... as is the story of wicked, i think the issue is nuanced. also this might be only a twitter issue as people on twt do make things black and white often.
anyways! back to the fashion, im no expert either i just thought itd be nice to try my hand at it!!
oh and the other drawing well . shes just too effin cute man idk what else to tell u
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specialgradefckr · 3 days ago
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Cutest Girl Alive~
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tw: explicit content. brat!reader, gojo is not a brat tamer he is a brat enjoyer, hate sex vibes, very very tsundere!reader, gojo is hilariously oblivious about how annoying he is, reader is kinda mean (not without reason...)
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satoru gojo who just doesn't know what your problem is.
he really doesn't! suguru doesn't believe him, of course, but it's true - he didn't do anything. at least not anything that would warrant you asking if his "inbred, illiterate ass is too important to file a report".
ichiji said it was just because his paper backlog made things difficult for everybody. but the inbreeding comment was uncalled for!
his mom is super hot, though. he told you as much, and offered to set up a date, just in case you swung the other way.
unfortunately, the only thing that swung just your hand against his face, which didn't make contact, but it still hurt his feelings!
(you'd looked him dead in the eye. "good." walked away.)
and that wasn't just an isolated incident!
he'd caught you at the vending machine, bent over. satoru had politely refrained from slapping your ass and loudly announced how hot it was.
perfect gentleman!
whereupon you had turned around, smiling tightly, and offered him the soda.
"see," he teased, cracking it open, "i knew you could be nice if-"
the soda sprayed all over his face. your smile looked a little looser, a little realer, and your laugh - while awful and wicked - had been terribly adorable.
when he started to laugh with you, though, you just glared. rolled your eyes, and walked off in the middle of the conversation.
and just. random moments! your face falls into an admittedly cute pout (suguru says it's a grimace) whenever he walks into the room.
"how's your day been?"
"good, until you got here."
like, he's not crazy here. you're just being mean.
honestly, it's kind of funny. or it would be funny, if it didn't kind of hurt a little.
suguru doesn't get the same kind of response. when he begs, pleads, and bribes suguru into asking you what you don't like about him -
"if i had to say... everything."
whereupon suguru had burst out laughing.
mean!
but that's the thing, though. you were nice to suguru, to everyone else.
you're not a bitch. you're a bitch to him.
he's special.
you don't treat anybody else like this.
why is that, satoru ponders. why do you especially dislike him?
suguru says it's his shitty personality. joke's on suguru because his best friend has been some guy with a shitty personality for about a decade now! loser.
anyways, he comes up with a plan. he texts you from another phone and number, something perfectly random and polite. a picture of a cat he found on the street.
(you love cats so you'll definitely respond. he knows because he's been popping in on you for several weeks now. it's not stalking because he doesn't follow you! and that was so rude of suguru to say!)
the conversation that follows is perfectly pleasant. sweet, even. he enjoys it, right up until -
mean girl <3: hey could you do me a huge favor actually? satoru gojo: anything 4 u kitten!! mean girl <3: kill yourself gojo
his number is blocked.
whoops. wow. do you have a built in satoru gojo detector or something? what is he missing? what gave him away???
suguru looks over the texts and just stares at him blankly at the question.
"well? what could have clued her in?"
"oh, god... satoru, if you can't tell, just forget about it. and stop trying to fool her."
he probably should. stop, that is.
he's not following you but he's definitely teleporting into places he knows you'll be. trying to run into you. constantly. daily. hourly, even.
he likes to stay updated on all your missions. your favorite restaurants. maybe he watches you a little.
there's just something that draws him in. your quick wits, your derision. the way you look at him with all that fire.
you want to laugh at him. he wants to laugh with you.
and yeah, he gets rock hard when you yell at him. he'd let you slap him but you don't bother trying anymore after hitting his infinity that one time. bummer.
it's a late summer evening - sun still up, orange on the horizon. he's stuck filling out reports, you're stuck grading papers.
in silence, as always. you'd never speak to him unless it was to insult him.
"hey," satoru says all the sudden, "you wanna fuck?"
the silence that fills the room is colder, harder -
"are you fucking serious?" insulted, outraged - that's about what he expected.
but... if he looks with the six eyes... if he glances at your sympathetic nervous system, if he squints really hard and swears three times over, maybe he can convince himself -
"you're not totally against the idea, are you?" he draws himself up from the table, smirking.
hooking a finger in his blindfold like he's trying to remind you just how long they are.
you stare at him.
"dead serious," he confirms, "right here right now. i can be fast."
"i don't doubt it." oooh, there's that bite again, "i doubt i'd enjoy it."
his smile bares teeth.
"wanna bet?"
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and fuck, just look at you now. look at you!
with all six eyes he is. and satoru likes what he sees.
hunched over, teary eyed. face bright red. you used to scowl at him with that face, that pretty face, all hard lines and snarled lips -
and look at you now! so cute and precious and soft! so sweet he wants to take a bite out of you.
you even yelp, adorably, when he nips at the inside of your thigh. sensitive, twitchy.
he's dizzy with it. with the taste of you, of your cum. your high pitched little whimpers in his ears are still ringing in his ears, along with your mean retorts.
"where's your smart mouth now, baby?" he teases, lips glossy with your slick.
and god, it's even fucking hotter watching you try to glare while blushing and trembling and blinking away tears of overstimulation.
"sh-shut up and put your dick in me, gojo," you bite out, "if you even know how."
you jolt when he kisses your cunt, looking you in the eyes while he does it.
"awh, you poor thing," he cooes, crawling up your chest to go face-to-face, even as another hand goes to dig his cock out of his pants, "so impatient."
he can tell it riles you up. that you don't know what to do, trapped in his gaze.
"fuck off, gojo."
"i'll fuck you," he says with a snicker, kissing your throat. like he knows you won't let him kiss your lovely little pouty face.
how could he not have seen it before?
(well, he had his blindfold on for one. but the principle of you being unsettled by your attraction towards him still stands!)
he lines himself up, nice and easy. feels your unsteady hands reach, cling to his shoulders, and that's almost as hot.
you look down to avoid his gaze, but then your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. huge and pink and throbbing.
"yummy, right?" he croons, "you can have a taste after if you want. you're so sweet, you deserve a lick or two."
you make this sharp gasp, the most adorable, helpless noise, your whole body jerking as he plunges into you, and satoru nearly cums just from that.
cute. cute cute cute cute so fucking cute he's gonna go crazy.
he bites at the place your shoulder meets your neck just to sate himself. soft skin, tender flesh. salty and slick from sweat.
you melt in his mouth. around his dick. whimpering and sniffling and mewling little demands.
"get on with it, gojo, fuck, is this your first time - "
"first time fucking a cunt this wet?" he purrs between sucking marks on your neck, "yeah, baby. it's crazy, how much you want me."
"you went down on me for like," another high-pitched squeak as he nips your ear, "t-ten minutes, dumbass. of course i'm wet!"
your hands claw at him, trembling just like your voice.
he shoves himself in, all the way to the hilt, disintegrating any coherence you had left. all you can do is cry out, wailing when his long fingers brush over your poor, swollen, tender clit.
"awh, baby, you can take it," he croons. his heart does a little delighted flutter when he sees your (utterly kissable) lips purse in annoyance, only to fall apart again when he pumps back into you.
"run out of nasty things to say, huh, baby?" satoru swears he can feel your pretty little clit twitching and pulsing at his touch, just like his cock throbs inside you.
his eyes glitter as he thrusts in and out. god, your hot fucking body tensing and shuddering against him, the exhaustion warring with pleasure and aggravation on your face.
there's not a single part of you that isn't utterly fixated on him. in this moment he's the most important thing in your world.
and it's glorious. your cunt is clenching him like a vice, unraveling him almost as far as he's already unwound you. little moans spill from your mouth, music to his ears.
that face, god, that fucking gorgeous face that's always frowning at him. so pretty now.
"look at you," he pants, close so close, "god, you're - such a bitch all the time - you just needed a good fucking, huh?"
satoru snatches your face by the jaw, looking you straight in the eyes.
they're all wet and messy and a little bit red. he's so close he has to press hard, fast circles into your clit to get you closer, closer -
"f-fuck," you sob, "fuck, hngh, you-"
he licks your tears off your cheeks, "just needed some good cock, huh? that's all it takes to shut your mean little mouth?"
clawing at his back. he feels you squeezing him for all he's worth, milking him -
"fuck, i'm cumming," he groans, bursting hot and liquid in your tight cunt.
you gulp down heavy, airy breaths. delicate noises as you tremble in his arms.
fuck, you're so gorgeous. satoru lays you back, your lashes fluttering, face flushed, spread out on the desk all limp and exhausted.
his ravished beauty. his little spitfire.
"see," he cooes, cupping your cheek, "all sweet for me now that you're filled with my cum. see how nice it feels when you're good for me?"
your hands shoot up, slapping his hand away, covering your face.
"your mouth is literally only good for eating pussy."
he laughs, leaning in to hold you against him. "and yours is only good for talking shit."
"maybe if you weren't such an asshole you'd know better." you snap, pulling back, sliding him out of you with a little gasp that gets his cock twitching again.
he whines at the loss of you, "awh, come on, don't be like that."
you roll your eyes. it's pretty incredible how well you're composing yourself, fixing your clothes and hair. taking a deep breath as you pointedly ignore his pestering and prepare to leave.
his bitchy, pretty baby. so much less intimidating when he's seen you moaning and cumming in his mouth - but he thinks you're even more adorable now.
"i gave you more than your fair share of orgasms, didn't i? show me what else it's good for~" he sings, staring at you the whole time.
you ignore him until you're dressed again. glancing at him from the corner of your eye. turning away.
"...next week after class." you say, stopping just before you leave, "i don't like owing people."
"heh." satoru watches you dart out the door, shutting it briskly behind you, smiling to himself.
maybe you thought he couldn't see it - as if he isn't always watching your face - but just before you left, he could tell.
the faintest dusting of pink on your cheeks...
you really are the cutest girl alive, huh?
(megumi tells him to stop whistling that day - he doesn't stop for an entire week.)
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airybcby · 12 days ago
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જ⁀♡⊹。° i'd choose you and me...religiously
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♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)
♡ word count — 2.3k
♡ content — karasu tabito x fem! reader, fem! reader, childhood friends to lovers, reader is very normal and quiet, goes through 3rd grade to the U-20 vs Blue Lock game, reader doesn't understand soccer, cuddling, kissing, some cussing
♡ synopsis — Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.
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Tabito Karasu had always been moved by ordinary things. The way rain left trails on windows, the sound of soccer cleats tapping against pavement, the smell of freshly cut grass on the field. Ordinary moments stayed with him long after they’d passed, as if they were somehow more precious than the extraordinary ones.
And then, there was you.
He noticed you before he ever talked to you, always quiet and off to the side, a book or sketchpad in your hands while the other kids played and shouted around you. You weren’t like the rest of them—you weren’t loud, flashy, or attention-seeking. To most, you might have seemed unremarkable.
But to Tabito, you were something special.
He just didn’t realize it until the day he saw you crying.
The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving, casting sharp shadows on the concrete playground. Tabito was sitting on a bench, juggling a soccer ball between his feet, when he noticed the commotion.
A group of kids stood in a semi-circle around you, taunting you about being “too quiet” and “weird.” You didn’t say anything in return, but your teary eyes and the way you hugged your knees gave everything away.
Before he could think twice, Tabito was on his feet, marching over.
“Hey!” he barked, startling the group. He planted himself between you and them, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he glared them down. “Why don’t you piss off and leave her alone?”
The kids hesitated, their bravado faltering under his sharp gaze. Eventually, one muttered something under their breath before they all dispersed.
He turned back to you, his face softening. “You okay?”
You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks...”
He grinned, crouching beside you. “No problem. But you owe me big time. The teacher’s totally gonna yell at me for this one.”
Sure enough, he was called out for his language later, but he didn’t care. By then, the two of you had already cemented an unspoken bond.
From that day on, Tabito Karasu became your first—and only—friend.
By the time junior high rolled around, Tabito had become a name everyone knew. He was a rising soccer star, his talent and charisma drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But no matter how busy his life got, he always made time for you.
You, on the other hand, stayed much the same. You kept to yourself, stayed out of the spotlight, and quietly supported him from the sidelines. Every game he played, you were there, clapping and cheering along with the crowd—even if you didn’t fully understand the rules.
“You seriously don’t get it?” Tabito asked one evening, his breath visible in the crisp autumn air as the two of you walked home.
He had just finished explaining the mechanics of offside for the fifth time.
“I mean... I get that the ball should go in the net,” you said hesitantly. “But everything else is... kind of fuzzy.”
Tabito groaned dramatically, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not that hard! Okay, think of it like chess—”
“Tabito, I don’t know how to play chess.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You’re kidding me. You’ve been watching my games for years, and you don’t even know what’s happening?”
“I know you’re good,” you offered, laughing. “That’s all that matters, right?”
He sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”
By high school, Tabito had become your anchor, and you had become his.
No matter how many people surrounded him or how many girls vied for his attention, he always found his way back to you. He walked you to your classes, saved you a spot at lunch, and invited you over to his house whenever your parents were working late.
One night, after a particularly heavy rainstorm, you ended up staying at his place again. His mom gave you a pillow and blanket for the floor in his room, but when you lay down, the hardwood felt unbearably cold.
“You seriously gonna sleep there?” Tabito asked from his bed, leaning over the edge to look at you.
“Where else would I sleep?”
He rolled his eyes. “Here. Come on.”
“Tabito, your mom said—”
“The floor’s freezing. Just get up here.”
You hesitated, but the warmth in his voice and the ease of his grin convinced you. Moments later, you were lying beside him, your head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
“This is too close,” you muttered, though you made no effort to move even though there was plenty of room on his bed.
“Shut up,” he replied, laughing softly.
After a long silence, you spoke again. “Someone asked me what my name was today. We’ve been going to school together since junior high, and they didn’t know my name.”
Tabito’s hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “That’s their loss,” he murmured. “You’re unforgettable.”
You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart beating faster than it should have. “Tabito—”
Before you could ask what he meant, his lips were on yours.
When he pulled back, you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and steady.
“I don’t care what happened. I’d never forget your name.” He kissed you again. “Your face.” Another kiss. “Your goddamn voice.”
You stared at him, your cheeks burning, and he grinned. “You’re mine, okay? Have been for a while.”
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window as Tabito’s mom opened the door. She froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you curled up together in his bed.
“Tabito Karasu!”
Breakfast was... awkward. Over toast and eggs, you and Tabito sheepishly explained your newly minted relationship, only to be rewarded with an impromptu birds-and-the-bees talk.
Tabito groaned, hiding his face in his hands while you tried—and failed—not to laugh.
The letter came during your senior year.
You sat under a tree in the park, the letter in your lap as Tabito leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky.
“This is it,” he said softly. “This is how I make it big.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m proud of you.”
His grin faltered when he looked at you. “You don’t look proud.”
“I am,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “I just... I’ll miss you.”
“Hey,” he said, reaching over to take your hand. “It’s not forever. Just until I make it. Then I’m coming back for you.”
You knew he would, because when Karasu set his mind on something, he would get to it, no matter what it took.
You just wished that he wouldn't have to leave for an uncertain amount of time, but you wouldn't say that. He was still yours, always would be, no matter how long you were apart.
When Tabito left for Blue Lock, he packed light—just the essentials. But tucked carefully at the bottom of his bag was something that wasn’t on any checklist: a collection of your letters.
Some were filled with words of encouragement, like the time you’d written after his first big loss, telling him that failure didn’t define him and that he’d always be a winner in your eyes. Others were playful, teasing him about his ego while reminding him to eat properly and not slack off during training. And then there were the ones you wrote late at night, when the ache of missing him felt too heavy to ignore. Those letters carried lipstick marks on the edges, small imprints of your love pressed onto the paper as if they could somehow close the distance between you.
He read those letters often. Whenever the loneliness crept in or the pressure of Blue Lock’s brutal competition threatened to overwhelm him, he would pull one out, smoothing the creases and letting your words fill the silence. Your voice, even through ink and paper, was his anchor.
One day, during a rare quiet moment in the dorms, Otoya noticed one of the letters poking out of Tabito’s duffel bag. Curiosity piqued, he reached over and grabbed one, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What’s this?”
Tabito, who had been lounging on his bed, immediately sat up. His sharp glare shot across the room like a warning. “Put it down, Otoya.”
But Otoya, ever the instigator, was already opening it. “Aw, come on, don’t be so uptight—” His eyes scanned the first few lines before he froze, his smirk widening. “Oh-ho, what’s this? A girlfriend?”
Tabito was on his feet in an instant, snatching the letter back with a scowl. “None of your business.”
Otoya leaned back, hands raised in mock surrender, but his laughter rang out, echoing in the small dorm room. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Karasu. You’ve got that whole ‘too cool for relationships’ vibe going on, but here you are, all sentimental. Lipstick marks, too? Damn, she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”
Tabito stuffed the letter into his bag, his jaw tight. He didn’t bother responding to the teasing; it wasn’t worth his energy. Instead, he turned his back to Otoya, muttering under his breath, “Shut up.”
But as Otoya’s laughter died down, Tabito’s fingers brushed the edges of the letter. He could feel the faint ridges of your handwriting beneath the paper, the weight of your love in every stroke of the pen.
A small smile tugged at his lips, one he didn’t let Otoya see.
Because Otoya was wrong about one thing: you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger. No, it was deeper than that. You were his lifeline, his reminder of everything waiting for him back home.
The teasing didn’t matter. The competition didn’t matter. What mattered was the thought of you—always cheering him on, always believing in him.
One day, he promised himself. One day, he’d read those letters with you sitting beside him, not miles apart. And when that day came, he’d show you just how much your words, your love, had carried him through.
For now, though, he folded the letter and placed it carefully back in his bag, ready to fight his way to that future.
Watching the Blue Lock team play against the U-20 team almost put you into an early grave, you swear, Blue Lock won, of course. ( You totally weren't praying on some of the U-20 team's downfall during the game...not at all)
The crowd’s roar was deafening, a wave of cheers and chants reverberating through the stadium. You stood on the sidelines, heart pounding as the Blue Lock team celebrated their hard-fought victory on the field.
You had come all this way to watch him, to see for yourself just how much he’d grown. And yet, even after all these years of supporting him, nothing had prepared you for this moment.
Your eyes darted across the players, searching, until—suddenly—you felt arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your feet left the ground as you were spun around, a loud gasp escaping your lips.
“Tabito!” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling out of you.
When he finally set you back down, you turned to see his grinning face, his hair damp with sweat and a few stray blades of grass stuck to his jersey. He looked different—stronger, sharper, more determined—but when his eyes met yours, the warmth in them hadn’t changed one bit.
“You did it!” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. “You actually did it.”
“Of course I did,” he replied, his tone cocky, but his grin softened when his hand came up to cup yours. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as pride swelled in your chest. But before you could say anything else, the words you’d been holding back for years tumbled out:
“Tabito, I finally got it today!”
He blinked, caught off guard. “Got what?”
“Soccer!” you blurted, your voice trembling with excitement. “I mean, okay, maybe not all of it, but at the kickoff, I just... I got it! I understood why you love it so much. I felt it. When the game started, I was so excited I almost screamed! And when you got close to the goal, I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted you to score so badly.”
His eyes widened in surprise before his expression melted into something softer, something that made your heart ache in the best way. “You... really mean that?”
“Yes!” you said, gripping the front of his jersey like you’d never let him go. “I finally understood why you’ve worked so hard, why this means so much to you. It’s amazing, Tabito. You’re amazing.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t find the words. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he pulled you into another spin, your laughter echoing above the noise of the crowd.
When he set you down again, he didn’t hesitate—his lips found yours, and the world fell away.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re the one who’s amazing,” he whispered. “And you know what? That was the only goal I needed today—hearing you say that.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped away a stray tear. “You’re so cheesy.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.
He glanced around, the chaos of victory still unfolding behind him, but all his focus was on you. “Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Will you follow me? No matter where this takes me?”
You didn’t even have to think about it. “Anywhere. Always.”
His grin returned, wider than ever, and he kissed you again, as if sealing a promise. And as the stadium lights bathed you both in a golden glow, you knew you’d never stop cheering for him—on the field or off.
Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.
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i take him to my pent house and i FREAK IT
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated
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getmeoutofhell · 3 months ago
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I DESPERATELY need more horror/slasher house content 😭🙏🙏🙏🙏
Groceries
slasher house x reader
“that shouldn’t be an issue. i don’t mind going to get the groceries while you clean up.” you nodded your head as you talked to hannibal. he had asked you to get the groceries while he cleaned up around the house, which with your kind nature you obviously agreed. in your opinion hannibal and daniel was definitely one of the more ‘calm’ people in the house if that makes sense. they were definitely the people you would go talk to if you had any problems going on, so of course if there’s a way for you to repay them, you’d do it in a heartbeat.
“thank you y/n, i really appreciate it. to show my appreciation, i will make you your favorite dessert after dinner.” he slightly smiles at you, before handing you the grocery list. your eyes had lit up when he said dessert, so you knew today was gonna be a good day.
fast forward some time, and you’re back at the house with the groceries. you had to ask jason and michael to help you pack them inside but still, you got it done. after everything was settled, hannibal started cooking dinner, and which art had decided that it would be the perfect time for him to go fuck with hannibal in the kitchen. that’s not a good idea. as you go to retrieve him from the kitchen, you see hannibal smacking the back of arts head with his hand, yelling at him to get out. you tried not to laugh at the situation, but you failed miserably, busting out into laughter at the sight. you see art start pouting as he left the kitchen, with you following him. “art i keep trying to tell you, don’t go in the kitchen while he’s in there.” he rolls his eyes at your statement before wandering off back to the basement. he’s such a funny man.
it’s now 8pm and you are playing uno with the group in the living room. billy loomis was sitting on the left side of you, while jennifer was on the right. freddy placed down a draw 4 card and called red, causing billy to cuss out profanities and calling his move “unfair”. jennifer tells him to suck it up as he draws the card, making him snarl at her. “what the fuck am i supposed to even do?!?! this game is bullshit.” here goes patrick again, complaining about something no one asked him to even do in the first place. you shake your head, no even caring to respond to him. “well you ocd fuck, no one asked you to place in the first place.” freddy said, making some of the guys laugh at him. patrick then says that this game is for babies and throws down his cards then leaves the room. everyday you wonder about him.
after the game of uno with the group it was time for bed. well, bed for hannibal and will you should say, everyone else stays up till like fucking 3am or something. as you guys were watching a movie, you looked to the side of you and noticed valak staring at you…again. “what do you want?” you heard no response like usual. “anyways.” you turn your head back to the tv. “this movie is suck a classic.” said stu. you nodded your head in agreement. hopefully tonight you can convince art to take a bath, or maybe not who knows.
how could i forget to mention that its halloween!! that means people are out, killing. isn’t that great?? you dressed up as your favorite slasher and even gave them candy after bed time. (you probably shouldn’t have don’t that, considering that fact that brahms was up all fucking night.)
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happy halloween from me!! 🎃
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mariclerc · 2 months ago
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Student's secret | cl16
Summary: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas... or in a pole dance club.
Warnings: mental health issues, toxic work environment, mentions of drugs and sex, uni student reader, denigrating comments, angst and a little fluff at the end.
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Living or spending a few days in the city of sin is a dream come true for many people, it is the place where everything is possible, where anything can happen: Luxuries and eccentricities are the order of the day throughout the year and rules and formalities are something banal and outdated for many.
For you it is like being in a cage, many people are forced to lead a double life, one where during the day they do their routine things but at night they try to do something to survive... Just like your case... Being a uni student, it is a bit difficult to bear the expenses of tutors, food, clothes, rent and other things, especially being exposed to the city of luxuries at such a young age, most of the time you find it difficult to make ends meet, so you decided to look for a job during the holidays to, at least, have enough money to make it to the end of the year without any problems... But you didn't think that what started as a temporary job would become a permanent job.
That's why you find yourself touching up your makeup backstage at a pole dance club, this has been your night life for 4 months straight, today is different because you have to work an extra day due to a special show.
Lila, your boss, enters backstage, drawing everyone's attention. “Listen up ladies, tonight we will have a special show because the F1 action in Las Vegas starts on Wednesday, so we will only be open today - Tuesday night, and tomorrow.” she said with a cocky smile on her face. “Plus we have some special people in the audience tonight, so get your shit together or else... You'll be dealing with me.” she said.
Most of the time when there is a big event that paralyzes the city you work only 3 days and the other days you use to rest, but this is enough because you assume from what Lila says, that the drivers will be making an appearance at the club tonight. Plus your shift is only supposed to be Thursday through Sunday, not Tuesday.
You sighed. “I don't want to do this Lila...” you say softly.
She stops and turns her gaze to you. “What do you mean? You know you have a contract, right?” she spats.
“But this is not my shift and I feel too uncomfortable and exposed.” you say. “This was supposed to be a summer-only job, and...” you were going to continue but she interrupted you.
“But anyway, you signed the contract and besides, you need money for your stupid shit, right?” she said and you blinked multiple times. “So you're gonna put on a good show tonight or else I'll make you spend the night with one of the patrons, was it clear to you?”
The patrons are the ones who keep the club afloat, they invest a lot of money in you and in drinks, drugs and so on. In the few months you've been there you've witnessed some pretty... nasty stuff, drugged up coworkers forced to have sex with one of these guys so they can give them some extra money. Luckily for you, you haven't been forced to do anything similar, you just dance and do the occasional VIP service, extra tip and that's it, but seeing the consequences of not wanting to work today, you have to put up with it.
“Okay miss...” you murmured shyly.
Lila smiled. “Everyone, be ready for our customers tonight.” she said and continued walking, you sighed.
You take a deep breath, wiping away a tear that came out of your eyes, smudging lightly your mascara, before stepping into the spotlight. You and your other companions go out on stage, you notice how the patrons are sitting up front with their drinks and cigarettes, as usual, but you notice new faces; most of the drivers are sitting in the VIP booth, each one sitting alone or with his colleagues. The music starts, and you begin your routine, trying to mask your emotions with your performance. As you dance, you catch glimpses of a driver who's watching you intently, his expression shifting from amusement to concern.
After finishing your routine, you watch as your boss motions for you to go the VIP booth number 16, you walk over there, your heart pounding in your chest. The driver is smiling, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes.
He's smiles gently. “Hey there, that was an incredible performance up there.” he says softly.
“Thanks, I... I appreciate it.” you say while forcing a smile.
You notice the way he studies you, his gaze lingering on the redness in your eyes and the light smudge under it. He hesitates for a moment before speaking again... “Are you okay? You seem… a bit upset.” he asks you softly.
You sighed. “It’s just been a long night... Nothing to worry about.” you whispered as you lied.
He nodded. “I can imagine, this place looks so intense.”
You look around the club, feeling the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on you.
“It can be... Overwhelming at times.” you say quietly.
The music shifts to a slower tempo, creating a more intimate atmosphere around your conversation. You stand before Charles and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Charles watches you with a mix of excitement, care and curiosity, his coloured eyes sparkling under the dim lights.
He smiles gently. “So, what do you say, little star? Just a little private dance to lighten the mood?” he says softly while calling you by your stage name.
“I mean... If that's what you want...” you say a little hesitant.
He nods reassuringly. “Trust me, it’ll be fun... Just be yourself.”
You feel a rush of adrenaline at his words. You’ve performed many times before, you've even done private dances several times with not so nice customers, but this feels different—more personal and somewhat intimate. You nod slowly, trying to shake off your nerves.
“Okay... I'll do it.” you say softly.
Charles grins, and you can see the excitement in his eyes. You step back slightly to create some space, allowing yourself to get into the right headspace... The music shifts to a sultry tune, and you begin to move to the rhythm.
As you dance, you focus on Charles, letting the music guide your movements. You sway your hips and let your body flow with the beat, feeling the tension ease away with each step. Charles leans back against the plush booth, watching you intently.
“You're incredible...” he whispers.
His words send a thrill through you, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment... You let go of any lingering doubts and worries and you just embrace the performance. You glide closer to him, allowing your body to move in sync with his gaze.
You continue your dance, incorporating playful movements that make him laugh and smile. The connection between you feels electric, and you find yourself enjoying this more than you anticipated.
“How's this for a private dance?” you asked him playfully, using your confident facade.
He grins. “It's perfect... More than I expected...”
You lock eyes with him, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The laughter and chatter from other tables become a distant hum as you focus solely on him. As you move closer again, you notice how he leans forward, captivated by your performance. You playfully run your fingers along his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. You continue dancing, letting your body express what words cannot. You swirl around him, feeling free and alive as you lose yourself in the rhythm. The music pulses through your veins, and you can see the admiration in Charles' eyes as he watches you.
“You're amazing... This is better than I imagined.” he says with a low voice.
You smile at his compliment, feeling a rush of confidence surge through you, customers rarely compliment you or the girls. You step closer again, brushing against him as you dance, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.
As the last notes of the song fade away, you take a deep breath and step back, allowing yourself to bask in the moment.
He clapped softly to you. “That was incredible! You really know how to put on a show.”
You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The energy between you is palpable as he leans forward slightly.
“I think that deserves a special tip...” he says while grinning. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crisp stack of bills, holding them up with a playful glint in his eye. “What do you think? Is this enough? Or do you need more than that?” he says softly.
Your heart races as he counts out a hefty amount of cash that was wrapped in a paper before handing it to you with an appreciative smile. You wouldn't believe it, it was a big tip.
“Wow! Are... Are you serious?” you said surprised. “I can't take it, I'm...” you were about to say but he gently stopped you.
He smiled. “Don't say that, you deserve it! You deserve every bit of it for that amazing performance.”
You take the money from him, feeling a mix of gratitude and disbelief. It’s more than you expected for just one dance. “Tha... Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me.” you say softly.
“You earned it. And I hope this helps with whatever you're working towards.” He said sweetly and that made you stop.
“How... How do you know that...” you said in a low voice.
He looked around the club and then looked at you before slowly approaching you.
“There's no need to say anything, little star... Your gaze, those lost little eyes told me everything I need to know.” he said softly in a whisper. “Sometimes a look is enough to know a little bit about a person.” he said softly and you were shocked, you never thought that an F1 driver would be so empathetic and deeper.
“Wow, that was... Yeah...” you murmured. “Thank you again...” you say and pause, you still don't know his name.
“Oh, I'm Charles Leclerc.” he said formally. “But just call me Charles.” he smiled.
“Y/n” You answered him by giving him your name. You were going to tell him something else, but the bell indicating that you and the girls had to go backstage ruined the moment.
He smiled. “Well, I think they need you in there.” he said softly. “I really enjoyed this evening, the dancing was spectacular.” he said and you blushed.
“Y/n! Get your fucking slutty ass here!” your boss yelled harshly and you shook your head.
“I have to go, but thanks again Charles.” you said softly.
“It was nothing. Take care y/n, I hope to see you soon.” he said softly and you walked backstage.
As you entered your small dressing room you looked at the amount of money Charles had given you and a tear ran down your cheeks. You had never received such good treatment from a customer, the warmth and security of his person contrasting with the coldness and toxicity of the place. You sighed and put the money in your briefcase, thankful that someone had noticed your tearful gaze despite not saying anything about the anxiety and fear that constantly fill your life.
***
The weeks following your encounter with Charles unfold in a blur of routine and reflection. You find yourself back in the familiar rhythm of your daily life, but the vibrant energy of that night lingers in your mind like a bittersweet memory. The club’s atmosphere has shifted, and the pressures of your job weigh heavily on you.
You're sitting on your bed, surrounded by textbooks and notes from your psychology classes. The sunlight filters through the window, but it feels dimmer than usual, you flip through your notes absentmindedly, thoughts drifting back to that night.
“It was just one night… why can’t I stop thinking about it?” you say to yourself, while flipping through your notebook.
You recall Charles’s laughter, the way he looked at you with genuine interest and care, and the way he made you feel seen. But as days turn into weeks, that memory becomes a painful reminder of what you’re missing in your life.
You shake your head, trying to focus on your studies. But the thoughts keep creeping back in—what if you had exchanged numbers? What if you opened up to him and told him what you were going through at that very moment it didn't matter if he was a complete stranger? The “what ifs” swirl around like a storm in your mind... You couldn't fall in love with a stranger, much less an F1 driver, you're not supposed to let anyone into your life.
A few nights later, you’re back at work, but the energy feels different. The once vibrant atmosphere has turned toxic—patrons are more aggressive, and the laughter that used to fill the air is replaced with tension and judgment.
You stand behind the bar, pouring drinks for a group of rowdy customers who seem to take pleasure in belittling the staff. You try to brush off their nasty comments, but each jab feels like a weight added to your already heavy heart.
One of the customers spoke. “Hey you, why don’t you dance for us? We paid good money for this place! You little bratty bitch.” he said in a slurring way.
You force a smile, but inside, you feel a surge of anxiety, you want to disappear. The memory of Charles’s encouragement clashes with the reality of your current situation. You glance around, noticing how other staff members are also feeling the pressure from the patrons, they're demanding lately.
“May... Maybe later! Right now, let me get you another round of drinks.” you say while you attempt to light the mood.
As you turn away, you catch a glimpse of a co-worker, Sarah, who looks equally drained. She gives you a sympathetic nod, and you can tell she’s feeling the strain too. It is causing a lot of damage to all the girls, especially mentally, you have already seen several of them taking drugs in the bathrooms and backstage.
Sarah approaches you. “It’s getting worse here girl… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” she says quietly while taking a cigarette out of her pocket.
You sigh, knowing exactly what she means. The club that once felt like an escape is now suffocating. Every night drags on, filled with rude customers and an overwhelming sense of dread. Your mental health begins to deteriorate as the pressure mounts.
Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself dealing with the weight of your job and studies because it feels unbearable. You spend more nights lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts spiral out of control. Obviously, in the midst of all the chaos, you became a bit of a F1 fan, especially keeping an eye on the green-eyed boy who had been so nice to you that night at the club, somehow, even though he was a complete stranger to you at the time, you felt so happy to see him shine in what he likes — something you wish would happen to you too.
One particularly rough night at work, a big fight breaks out between two patrons. The chaos erupts around you as glasses shatter and voices rise in anger, you feel frozen in place, overwhelmed by your anxiety and nerves.
Weeks pass, and the club continues to drain you. But you find solace in small moments—watching sunsets, reading books—but they’re fleeting against the backdrop of your reality. Your mental health spirals further as feelings of isolation creep in.
Tears well up in your eyes as frustration boils over. You wipe them away angrily, feeling trapped between the joy of the memory shared that night with Charles and the pain of your current life. And it shouldn't be affecting you so much, he was just a costumer...
***
The atmosphere is electric as the club transforms for the Christmas season, twinkling lights adorn the bar, and festive decorations create a warm ambiance amidst the usual chaos. You stand in the backstage, heart racing, preparing for one last performance before your well deserved break from the club and your classes. The familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filter through the curtains, but today, they feel different.
You are in the backstage, pacing nervously as you go over your routine in your mind. The stage is set, and the crowd buzzes with excitement. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
You take a deep breath. “Just one last performance… You can do this.” you say in a whisper to you.
As the music starts and the spotlight shines on you, you step onto the stage. The audience erupts in applause, but your eyes scan the crowd anxiously. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—some co-workers, and regular patrons, nothing new—but then your heart skips a beat. There he is—Charles, standing near the front, his smile bright against the dim lighting.
Your breath hitches in your throat as a flood of emotions washes over you. Memories of that night come rushing back—the laughter, the slight connection, the promise of something more. But doubt creeps in, and you feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach...
“Why is he here? Is this just a fleeting visit? Or is it for something else?” you think, you can't help but wonder that.
You force yourself to focus on the performance, pouring your heart into every movement. As you dance, you try to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind... But each time you glance at Charles, you feel an overwhelming mix of hope and fear.
The performance reaches its climax, and the crowd cheers enthusiastically. You finish with a flourish, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you take your final bow. The applause reverberates in your ears, but your gaze remains fixed on Charles.
As you step offstage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you navigate through the backstage area toward the bar. You can feel Charles’s presence behind you, and a mix of excitement and dread builds within you.
“Whoa! That was incredible! I’ve missed seeing you perform, little star.” he says as he approaches you with a smile on his face.
His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you’re speechless. You take a moment to absorb his presence—his familiar warmth, his genuine admiration.
“Tha... Thanks... It's been a while since I felt that good on stage.” you say shyly.
You glance around nervously as other staff members and Sarah pass by, some offering nods of recognition to Charles. You can’t help but feel exposed under their scrutiny.
“Do you want to talk somewhere quieter?” he says softly while noticing your discomfort.
You hesitate for a bit. “Yeah... I guess that would be nice.”
You lead him to a small break room at the back of the club—a space filled with mismatched furniture and remnants of holiday treats. The atmosphere feels intimate compared to the bustling club outside.
Once inside, the door closes behind you, muffling the noise from the main area. You lean against the counter, arms crossed defensively as you try to gauge his intentions.
“So, ehm... What brings you back to Vegas? I thought you were busy with racing and all that stuff...” you asked him cautiously.
“Yeah, well, I was busy... but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to see how you’re doing—like, really doing.” he sighed and smiled at you.
His sincerity strikes a chord within you, but doubt still lingers. You remember how hard it is to open up before and how vulnerable it made you feel.
“Well... Things have been tough lately… work has been overwhelming...” you say while biting your lip.
Suddenly everything you have experienced in the last few months comes to your head, the humiliation, the mockery, the objectification, anxiety, the sacrifices you make to make ends meet and have enough money for everything you need and, without expecting it, your eyes fill with tears. A part of you longs for validation and support, but another part fears being let down again.
“Oh, don't cry little star, it's okay...” he says while he holds you in his arms and caresses your hair. “It's so okay, let it out.”
You sniffled. “It’s just that… I don’t know if I can trust anyone right now... Everything feels so chaotic; my life feels so chaotic and messier.”
Charles looks down at you, his expression earnest and understanding. “I get that... Trust takes time, but I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, I want to help.” he wipes a tear form your cheek.
You feel a flicker of hope ignite within you at his words. The vulnerability in his voice reminds you of that connection you shared—the one that felt so real yet so distant now.
“It’s hard for me to open up…” you say in a whisper.
“You don’t have to share everything all at once with me. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you're ready, okay?” he says softly.
His patience reassures you, but fear still grips your heart. You remember how easily things can change—how quickly trust can be broken.
“I’ve been feeling lost… like I’m stuck in this cycle that I can’t escape.” you say while looking down.
He nodded. “And it’s so okay to feel that way, we all go through rough patches. What matters is that we can still find a way out... together.” he smiles at you.
You meet his gaze again, searching for sincerity in his eyes. There’s no judgment there—only care, understanding and compassion... Something you've been needing to find for a long time and now a stranger is giving it to you.
***
As the days rolled on, the festive spirit of Las Vegas enveloped you both. The city transformed into a dazzling wonderland, with sparkling lights adorning every corner and the joyous sounds of holiday celebrations filling the air. You and Charles made the most of your time together, exploring the vibrant culture and indulging in the culinary delights that the city had to offer.
On Christmas Eve, you found yourselves in a cozy café nestled within one of the extravagant hotels. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating an inviting atmosphere. You sat across from each other, warm mugs cradled in your hands, and the soft glow of fairy lights twinkling around you.
As you sipped your drink, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence... Charles had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the burdens you carried were shared between you. But there was still a part of you that hesitated to delve deeper into your past, to reveal the struggles that lay beneath your cheerful façade.
“So, do you have any special traditions for Christmas?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
You smiled softly, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “Ehm... Not really, to be honest.” you admitted, looking down at your mug. “My family doesn’t celebrate much anymore... It’s just… complicated.”
He leaned in slightly, his expression encouraging. “Complicated how? If I may know.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, my family never really supported my choice to study psychology.” you began hesitantly. “They always thought it was a waste of time, they wanted me to pursue something more… practical.”
Charles nodded, his face reflecting understanding. “That must have been hard for you.” he said gently.
“It was.” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always wanted to help people, to understand their emotions and struggles. But when the people closest to you don’t believe in your dreams… it’s hard not to feel like you’re on the wrong path.” you say softly.
He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a reassuring gesture. “You’re not on the wrong path, little star. You’re doing something incredibly important.”
You appreciated his support, but the doubt still lingered in your mind. “It’s just… I didn’t have their financial support either.” you confessed, feeling vulnerable. “I’ve had to work multiple jobs to pay for school, including the job at the pole dance club... It’s so exhausting.”
Charles listened intently, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. “That sounds really tough, I can’t imagine how isolating that must feel.”
You nodded, grateful for his empathy. “It is isolating.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve lost touch with friends who didn’t understand my commitment to my studies. It’s like I’m in this bubble where no one else really gets what I’m going through.”
He squeezed your hand gently, grounding you in that moment. “You’re not alone now.” he reassured you. “I’m here for you, and I want to understand what you’re experiencing.”
His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, encouraging you to share more.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of loneliness.” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “I want to connect with others, but it’s hard when I feel so different from everyone else.”
Charles leaned closer, his voice soft and steady. “You’re not different in a bad way; you’re pursuing something meaningful. And those who truly care about you will see that...”
You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so.” he replied firmly. “You have so much passion and drive. That’s something to be proud of.”
As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more than you had anticipated. You shared stories of late nights spent studying, the moments of self-doubt that crept in during exams, and the fleeting joy of helping others during your internships.
His belief in you sparked something deep within—a flicker of hope that perhaps you weren’t as alone as you had felt for so long... The more you talked, the more liberated you felt from the weight of isolation that had clung to you for years.
***
The week leading up to New Year’s was always a time of reflection, a time when the world seemed to pause and take stock of the year gone by. The air was crisp, and the city sparkled with festive lights, but inside your cozy apartment, it was just the two of you—Charles and you—wrapped in a bubble of warmth and anticipation.
You had decided to spend the week together, a decision that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You could feel the chemistry bubbling between you—an electric charge that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was near, but with that chemistry came the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself fall for him.
As the sun began to set on the last day of the year, you and Charles found yourselves sprawled on the couch, surrounded by snacks and half-watched Christmas movies. The soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that made your heart race, you glanced sideways at him, his profile illuminated by the flickering light from the TV. He looked so relaxed, his hair slightly tousled and a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he focused on the screen.
“Do you ever think about New Year’s resolutions?” Charles asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
You turned your head to look at him fully. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “But I’m not very good at keeping them.” you giggled.
He chuckled softly. “Same here, I usually start strong, but by February, I’ve forgotten all about them.”
“What do you think this year’s should be?” you asked playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.
He pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing adorably. “Maybe something like… be more spontaneous? Or try to embrace change?”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Embrace change? That sounds deep!”
“Yeah, well.” he said with a shrug. “I think it’s important to be open to new experiences, you never know what could happen.”
His words struck a chord within you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was hinting at something more—something between the two of you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.
“What about you?” he asked, turning the question back to you. “What do you want for this coming year?”
You hesitated, your heart racing as you considered your answer. Part of you wanted to say something lighthearted, but another part yearned for honesty.
“I guess… I want to be braver.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Braver?” he echoed, his gaze intense as he studied your face. “In what way?”
You swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. “In life… in love.” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve always been scared of getting hurt, so I hold back.”
He nodded slowly, understanding washing over his features. “That makes sense.” he said softly. “It’s hard to let someone in when you’re afraid of what might happen.”
You felt a connection deepen between you in that moment—a shared understanding of vulnerability that made your heart ache with longing.
“Exactly.” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I think… maybe I want to try.”
Charles’s expression softened as he leaned closer to you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “Try what?” he asked gently.
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words hang in the air between you. “Try to let myself feel more… to let someone in.” Your heart raced as you said it, the truth spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.
He held your gaze steadily, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away until it was just the two of you—two souls intertwined in a moment of raw honesty.
“I’d like that.” he said finally, his voice low and sincere. “I’d like to be that person for you.”
A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words, but with it came a wave of fear... What if this was too much? What if falling for him meant risking everything? You pulled back slightly, breaking eye contact as uncertainty clouded your mind.
“Charles…” you started, but he interrupted gently.
“Hey.” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you shivered involuntarily at his closeness. “We don’t have to rush into anything, I just want you to know that I’m here.”
His sincerity made your heart swell and ache all at once. You wanted so desperately to lean into him—to let yourself fall into this beautiful connection—but fear held you back like an anchor.
“Can we just… take it slow?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling with vulnerability.
“Of course we can do that.” he replied without hesitation. “I’d never want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
You smiled gratefully at him, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe this was enough for now—just being here together, exploring this slow burn without any pressure or expectations.
As the evening wore on and the clock ticked closer to midnight, you found yourselves lost in conversation—sharing stories about childhood dreams and future aspirations, laughter punctuating each moment as the bond between you deepened.
At one point, Charles reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and for a moment, all your fears faded away.
As midnight approached, the anticipation in the air grew thick with excitement. You settled back against the couch, feeling giddy as Charles pulled out his phone to check the time.
“Just a few minutes left!” he exclaimed with a grin.
You couldn’t help but smile back at him; his enthusiasm was infectious. He glanced at you then, his expression softening as he leaned closer again.
“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his eyes locked onto yours.
“For what?” you asked teasingly.
“For whatever comes next.” he replied earnestly.
Your breath caught in your throat at his words—so simple yet so profound. In that moment, everything felt possible. You nodded slowly, feeling a rush of courage wash over you.
“Yes...” you whispered.
As the countdown began on TV, excitement bubbled between you like champagne ready to overflow. With each passing second, your heart raced faster until finally…
“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”
The room erupted in cheers from the television as confetti fell on-screen and fireworks lit up the sky outside your window. But all that mattered was Charles—his eyes sparkling with joy as he turned to face you.
And then it happened: he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against yours—a soft yet electrifying kiss that sent shivers down your spine. It was tentative yet filled with promise; a beautiful beginning wrapped in hope and possibility.
Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of new beginnings and uncharted territory. In that moment, all your fears melted away as if they had never existed at all.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Charles smiled at you—a smile that lit up his entire face and made your heart soar.
“Happy New Year, petite étoile.” he murmured softly. (little star)
“Happy New Year charlie.” you echoed, feeling lighter than air as hope blossomed within you—a hope for what this year might bring and for the journey ahead with him by your side.
And as fireworks exploded outside your window, illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—you were ready to embrace whatever came next together.
***
The days turned into weeks, and your bond with Charles deepened in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Each moment spent together felt like a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the warmth of companionship.
One evening, after a delightful dinner at a cozy restaurant, you found yourselves walking along the waterfront, the moonlight shimmering on the water's surface. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as you strolled side by side, your fingers intertwined.
As you walked, Charles suddenly stopped, turning to face you with a serious expression that caught you off guard. “Can we talk about something?” he asked, his voice low and earnest.
Your heart raced slightly as you nodded. “Of course babe! What’s on your mind?”
He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us—about how much I care for you. You mean more to me than I can express.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I want to take care of you in every way possible.”
You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure where this conversation was leading but intrigued nonetheless. “What do you mean?” you asked softly.
Charles stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “I want to be your sugar daddy.” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. “And I know it sounds weird, but it's not in a bad way, I mean, I want to support you while you study psychology, to help you leave behind all the stress and worries that weigh you down.”
Your mind raced as you processed his words. The idea of having someone like Charles in your life—someone who wanted to provide for you, who believed in your dreams and aspirations—was both exhilarating and daunting.
“Are you serious?” you managed to ask, your heart pounding.
“Absolutely!” he replied without hesitation. “I want us to build a life together. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I believe we could be so much more than what we are now.” He paused, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I want you to move out of Las Vegas and come with me to Monaco.”
The mention of Monaco sent a thrill through you. The thought of leaving behind the familiar chaos of city life for a place known for its beauty and luxury was intoxicating, but it also brought a wave of uncertainty.
“Monaco? That’s such a big step, Charles.” you said, trying to process everything. “But... What about my studies?” you asked softly.
Charles smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course you can continue your studies there! They have excellent universities, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need to succeed.” he said softly at you.
His words resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of hope and excitement that had long been dormant. The idea of pursuing your passion for psychology without the burden of financial stress felt like a dream come true.
“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, vulnerability creeping into your voice. “What if I can’t adjust?”
Charles cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Life is about taking risks, isn't it? And I believe in us—more than anything else in this world! I promise to be there every step of the way, you won’t be alone; we’ll figure it out together.”
His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, and for the first time, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The thought of embarking on this journey with him filled you with a sense of possibility.
“Okay.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try.”
A radiant smile broke across Charles’s face as he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in warmth and safety. “You won’t regret this, mon amour.” he whispered against your hair. (my love)
In that moment, everything felt so right to you... The world around you faded away as he held you close, and all that mattered was the connection between the two of you—a bond that had grown from two strangers into something deeper and more profound...
As the stars twinkled above like diamonds scattered across the night sky, you knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey together—one filled with love, adventure, and the promise of a brighter future.
***
The soft hum of the city outside your window filled the room as the moonlight spilled in, casting a silvery glow over your study room. You had been immersed in your psychology textbooks, determined to master the material before your upcoming class. However, fatigue had crept in, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to sleep, your head resting on your notes, surrounded by the comforting chaos of your studies.
Charles had just returned from a long day of meetings with sponsors, his mind still buzzing with the events of the day. He was looking forward to spending time with you, but as he stepped into your study room, he was met with a scene that made his heart swell... There you were, curled up on the desk, your little stuffed bear nestled beside you, as if it were standing guard while you slept.
A soft smile spread across his face at the sight. “Well, well, if it isn’t my little Sleepy Scholar.” he whispered affectionately, approaching you with quiet steps. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he began to pick up the scattered books, papers and highlighters on the table. “You really should consider changing your name to ‘Overworked Wonder.'” he teased gently, glancing down at your peaceful expression.
As he organized your notes, he found himself admiring how well you had adapted to life in Monaco. You had embraced the city with open arms, exploring its beauty and charm while pursuing your studies with unwavering determination. It filled him with pride and love to see you thriving after everything you had faced back in Vegas.
His fingers brushed against the plush bear, and he couldn’t resist giving it a gentle squeeze. “And look who’s here to protect my precious girl, hm?” he said with a playful grin. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Mr. Bear!”
With everything neatly arranged, he turned his attention back to you. The sight of you sleeping so soundly tugged at his heartstrings. He knew how hard you had been working and how much this new chapter meant to you, he wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to ensure that you felt safe and loved in this new place.
Gently, he slipped his arms under your body, lifting you effortlessly from the desk. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake as he cradled you against him. “Time for bed, my little scholar.” he murmured softly, the warmth of your body against his bringing him a sense of peace. “You need a deserved rest in a comfy bed.”
He carried you to the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves outside. As he laid you down on the bed, he carefully tucked the covers around you, ensuring that you were warm and comfortable. The plush bear found its place beside you once more, as if it were keeping watch over you in your dreams.
Charles took a moment to admire you—your features relaxed in sleep, a serene expression gracing your face. The love he felt for you swelled within him as he brushed a stray hair away from your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.” he whispered softly before slipping into bed beside you.
As he settled in next to you, the day’s exhaustion caught up with him. He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and watching you sleep for a moment longer. The way you breathed peacefully filled him with an overwhelming sense of contentment, It felt like everything was right in the world.
But soon enough, the weight of fatigue pulled at him too. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the bed and the comfort of your presence. As sleep enveloped him, dreams began to weave their way into his mind—visions of laughter-filled days exploring Monaco’s stunning coastline together, quiet evenings spent sharing stories under starlit skies, and a future filled with love and promise.
In that shared moment of tranquility, two hearts beat as one—connected by love and trust, embracing the beauty of their journey together. The world outside faded away as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, knowing that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead side by side.
As the night wore on, Charles found himself wrapped in dreams filled with laughter and light—a reflection of the joy you brought into his life. And in that serene space, both of you slept soundly, cocooned in warmth and love in your new home in Monaco.
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miniwheat77 · 2 years ago
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Rage. (Mean!Ghost x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, ghost being a big meanie, enemies to kinda lovers, hate sex, noncon, choking, (sorry if I missed any.)
This was a request and was edited poorly because I’m lazy. You can find the ask here.
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All you ever seemed to get out of Ghost were sighs. No matter what you said or did he seemed to have a problem with it. The few times you tried talking to him he'd huff and turn away from you with a sharp roll of his eyes. After a while, you got fed up with it and ignored him. You did your best to avoid him at all costs. It started snowballing into more. He'd always have something to say when you were around. Always so smug. On occasion if a mission went wrong no matter who's fault it was, he took it out on you. Raising his voice at you, punishing you when Captain Price wasn't around to see it.
He usually black mailed you into it somehow. Telling you that if you didn't obey him, he would go to your Captain. He was quiet around everyone else but always seemed to have the most to say when you were around.
It was tiring. He'd made you run, do push ups, wake up early for drills. He was bordering being abusive. He used his power in his favor and against yours. You contemplated dropping from the task force every once in while, but knew that Captain Price would need an explanation and admitting to what was going on, only put a target on your back even more. You had nowhere to go, you were trapped.
As time went on, you started biting back. When he had something to say, you didn't hold back. Started letting him have a taste of his own medicine. Going as far to annoy him when he made you do push ups or run. You went to bed early so that you were awake and ready for when he gave you drills.
If he was going to make this hell for you, you might as well do it right back.
It was normal. His harassment. He was a bully and you were used to it. You could bite back. Nothing ever really seemed out of the ordinary.
Until the first time he'd put his hands on you.
The power had gone out on the base, which made red lights flash in the hallways, much like in a movie. It was creepy.
You made your way down the hallway to the women's barracks. Nobody but you ever really came down this hallway unless they were coming to ask you a question of course. So when you seen Ghost walking menacingly down the hallway toward you, you were confused. You decided to ignore him, going to walk passed him. The red light illuminated the white on his mask and gloves. It was like something out of a horror movie.
Just as you were about to walk passed him, hands on you had you going to yell out, but he was quick. Clamping a gloved hand over your mouth and slamming your front up against the hard wall. You whimper into his mask at the force of him. He was being aggressive. His deep chuckle is what makes you fight against him, but he draws you back, pushing you hard into the wall again. He wraps his hand around your front, fingertips gliding across your waistline and you freeze, talking into his hand. He doesn't move it, only glides his hand back and fourth, fingertips pushing into your waistband just slightly. His chest was flush with your back and he was holding onto you tight, you could feel his erection pressing into your back. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. He takes in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of you. Following it up with a sigh of satisfaction. "You might as well stop fighting me." They're the first words out of his mouth and they're dark. Laced with venom. "I could do absolutely anything I want to you and there isn't one thing you can do to stop me." He mutters. Breath hot against your ear. "You could scream as loud as you want, beg me to stop and not one soul in this building would hear you. So the next time you want to talk back to me, remember that. You're in one little lonely room all the way off over here and nobody would even know what's going on. I mean.. They didn't notice me disappearing to get these." He lifts up a pair of your cotton panties, and you only sob into his glove harder. You knew he was mean, but this? This was too much.
"Can you stay quiet?" He growls. You nod your head. Tears soaking his glove. He lets out a deep chuckle. He slides his hand away from your mouth and you take in a deep breath. It lasts for only a second before he's lifting your chin to look back at him. "Please stop." You whimper. Earning a chuckle from him. "Awe... Why are you crying hm?" He smiles but he knows you can't see it. You gasp out as his hand slides lower. "Ghost- please don't" You push back into him, which only pisses him off further. “You’ll learn, pathetic little girl. I’ll teach you.” He smiles. “Please, I won’t fight back. I’ll be good.” You mumble. “Oh.. you’ll be good?” He smiles. A deep laugh from him sending chills up your spine. “I know you’ll be good. Because if you’re not…” he trails off. Fingertips gliding over your opening. Only now do you realize, he doesn’t have a glove on his right hand.
“Shit.. you’re wet?” He chuckles. His fingertips glide over your entrance and you’re trying to fight against him now. “Fuck.. you’re actually wet from this. What a little slut.” He grasps a handful of your hair, sliding his hand away from you. “You’re a pathetic girl, Y/N.” He let’s go of your hair, brushing it down with his hand. He moves himself away from you, stepping back. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He turns in the direction you’d just come from, heading back into the mess hall. You watch him for a second, tears still spilling over your eyelids as his dark form illuminatesd by red starts to disappear, Just in time for the lights to return. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
You’d just gotten into your room, but you could hear his heavy footsteps approaching your door. He slams it open before you get the chance to lock it behind you.
“What the fuck was that?” He breathes. He’s seething. You’re nervous as you look at him, tears pooling at your waterline. “I did what I had to do.” You breathe. “That’s doing what you had to do? You’re fucking ridiculous.”
His constant nagging has you at your wits end with him.
“Yes. I had no other choice because I was surrounded. If I’m dead, so is everyone else. So yes, I exposed myself on purpose, I called for help. Excuse me for being worried about everyone else around me, unlike you. You selfish motherfuc-“ the breath is knocked out of you when he slams you up against the wall in your bedroom, hand wrapped around your throat. “Did you learn nothing? Stupid girl..” he chuckles. “I learned enough.” Your breath is going away as he tightens his grasp on your throat. Your hands claw at his wrist. He’d cornered you in your room on purpose. “Recite it back to me. So I understand.” He smirks, even if you can’t hear it. You can sense it in his tone of voice. “I’ve learned.. that.. that you’re a complete fucking scumb-“ your face is turning a deep shade of red as he completely cuts your oxygen off. A whimper leaves your lips by accident, and he loosens his grip out of shock before returning it. Only letting you have one second to take in a breath as he tears his mask off. “Fuck- you fucking like this. You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” He chuckles. Cutting off your air again. Watching you turn red. The little blood vessels in your face are breaking.
“Fuck you” you growl. He lets go completely, smashing his lips to yours and you kiss back immediately. He kisses you hard, purposely being rough with you as he pulls you away from the wall. Shoving you back into your bed. He climbs on top of you, attaching his lips to yours again. He straddles your hips, pulling away from you and taking a second to look down at you. You’ve got a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s different.
He grasps your vest, making sure to be extra rough with you as he unzips it and tugs it off of you. “Jesus Christ- you don’t have to be so rough!” You growl. “Yeah right, you fucking like it so shut up.” He mutters, grasping the center of your shirt and tearing it down the center. “Ghost!” You gasp. He ignores you, moving down and pushing your legs apart with his knee. Moving himself between your legs. “Just be grateful, little crybaby.” He groans, tugging your cargo pants down your legs. You roll your eyes at him. Nervousness settling into your stomach. “Grateful for what exactly? Prick.” You mumble. A sharp slap to your clit has you whimpering. “Shut up.” He growls, standing himself up off the edge of your bed and tugging you to the edge by your thighs. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face between your legs, a gasp leaves your lips. He doesn’t start slow, immediately lapping up your entrance and sucking at your clit. He’s trying to make you as sensitive as possible.
He wants you crying on his cock.
You wrap a hand in his hair, squirming in his grasp but he hold your thighs up against his head. Using your thighs to muffle your sounds. It’s not ideal but he’s got to hold you still. He keeps this up until you’re trying to squirm away from him. Clit overstimulated already. “Simon- please-“ you whimper. Another slap to your pussy instead of his tongue has your body jumping. “I’ll say when you’ve had enough. Now take what I have to fucking give you.” He growls. Tears prick your eyes as he laps at your entrance. Your eyelids the dam holding back the river of tears. You keep it together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you cry. You reach your first orgasm with a cry, and he’s right. Nobody will hear it. Your thighs are shaking violently, soaking his face in your cum. But he doesn’t stop.
He flattens his tongue over your sensitive bud, abusing it further.
Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he’s finally pulling away from you. “Get on your fucking knees and suck my cock.” He growls.
You obey him, standing up off of your bed as he sits on the edge. You move yourself between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees as he unbuttons his pants. Only far enough to expose himself to you, leaning back into one hand. You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, making an attempt to tease him, but he’s not having it. He wraps a hand into your hair, tugging your head up so you’re looking at him. “Don’t try to tease me. You’ll regret it, take me.” He growls, pushing you down onto his cock, feeling him press up against the back of your throat. Your mouth waters, holding back a gag. You obey him, not wanting to find out the consequences if you don’t. He forces you down into his cock, holding you there and cutting off your air. He watches you turn red on him. Smirking down at you. At his complete mercy. “Fuck yes- yesss.” He growls. He lifts his hips up, thrusting up into your throat. He’s using you, making no attempt to hide it. He lets you breath for a second before forcing you back down onto him for more.
“Your throat is perfect for my cock.” He chuckles. His cock nestled deep into your throat as he blocks the oxygen from reaching your lungs. “You’re perfect like this yeah? That little mouth isn’t fucking running.” You roll your eyes even on his cock which makes him laugh. You’re a brat, through and through. He pulls you off of his cock and you take a few seconds, breathing in oxygen like it’s limited. “Hands and knees, now.” He grasps your arm, forcefully pulling you up off of the ground and pushing you onto the bed. You stop yourself with your hands, looking back at him. Despite how much of a prick he is, it’s quite the sight.
Disheveled hair, cock blushing and standing at attention. Fit stomach and chest, tattooed arms with veins and muscles bulging as he tugs your ass back into him. You turn forward, blushing to yourself. Every cell in your body prays he doesn’t see it, worried at him finding something else to bully your for. He notices it, but chooses to keep quiet as he grasps the base of his fat cock, pushing the thick tip up against your swollen mound. It’s red and abused from his tongue. He smirks at the work he’s done to you. The thick mushroom head pushes passed your folds, and he groans as you swallow him up. Like your pussy was made for him. He slides into you with complete ease despite the way you’re tightening around him. He reaches your wall, smirking as he bottoms out. He was gentle for a start, but he draws his hips back and slams himself back into you, right up to the hilt. A cry leaves your lips and it only eggs him on further. Abusing your cervix with his cock.
A harsh slap to your ass is what sends you over the edge, his balls hitting your overly sensitive clit with every thrust he takes into you. You can’t take it, tears slipping from your eyes at his abuse. He’s for sure leaving handprints, squeezing at your hips as hard as he can, bullying your cunt with his cock. When a sob leaves your lips, he laughs. Actually laughs at you. “That’s right, cry for me. Pathetic crybaby.” He chuckles. His stomach is already swirling with his orgasm, he loves hearing you cry, he loves seeing you cry. He slides out of you, pushing you over and moving himself on top of you. He pushes your thighs up until they’re pressed against your stomach, sliding into you once more. Deeper this time. He has to see it, has to see you cry on his cock. You’re pulling around him, sobbing even harder as you feel him bottoming out into your cervix, stomach cramping up at the size of him. “Simon please- it’s too much-“ you cry. He groans. “One second..” he pants. “Just- just one more second.” He groans.
He leans down into you, tongue gliding up your cheek. Soaking up each tear that stains your face. Moaning at the taste.
He reaches between the both of you, rubbing quick circles over your clit as you start to squirm. “One more. You can give me one more.” He growls. “No- I can’t!” You cry. “You can. You will. You can cry all you want princess.” He smirks down at you. His degrading is almost too much. He likes to see you like this. He sets a steady pace with his thrusts, slowing the circles he’s drawing into your clit with his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to what you hope is your final orgasm. “You’re going to take it, all of me.” He chuckles. It takes a second for you to realize what he means. You shake your head and he nods his head with an evil smile playing at his lips. “Yeah baby. You’re going to take all of this cum that I have to give to you-” He smiles, wrapping a hand around your throat and growling. Just when you think kindness shines through the concrete walls of his facade, he’s painting back over it with black tar. He cuts off your air once more. “-and you’re going to fucking thank me for it.” He growls. When he lets go of you, another sob leaves your lips as you reach another orgasm, clit throbbing so hard that it almost hurts. His hips halt, an evil laugh leaving his lips. He’s filled you up with his cum despite your protests. “Look at that, pathetic fucking crybaby.” He smirks. Your eyes are heavy as you whimper out. Even now, he’s still mean.
“Get cleaned up and meet in the Gym for your punishment.” He growls, sliding his cock back into his cargo pants and zipping them back up before leaving you there. Cum seeping out of your abused hole, tear stained cheeks. You sit up, body feeling weak. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through his next punishment.
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heartsforvin · 23 days ago
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how single dad!vinnie and reader met !
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it was an early saturday morning, vinnie had the day away from his son, seeing as he dropped him off at his parents place the night before. he had decided to go out to get coffee, a nice change of pace. what he didn’t expect though, was to see you.
vinnie had no intentions on starting another relationship, especially since jj was the one who consumed most of his ‘free time.’ he did think it wouldn’t hurt to at least give you a compliment, you did look beautiful in the summer dress you had on.
it wasn’t like him to go up to a random stranger and compliment them, his social anxiety too intense for that. with you though, something was drawing him toward you and he just had to say something.
the barista called out vinnie’s name, signaling his order was ready, he grabbed his drink with a thank you and sat down at a table.
sighing softly, he racked his mind trying to figure out if he really did want to go up to you and introduce himself. he doesn’t want to get into anything that could be serious, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a friend either.
grabbing his drink, he stood up from his seat and made his way over to you. it felt weird, wrong even and he didn’t know why. instead, he pushed that feeling aside and cleared his throat before speaking.
“hey, i’m sorry if this seems so forward i’m not usually like this either but, i saw you when i walked in and thought you were really pretty so i just had to say something.” he was rambling and he knew it, but at least he said something.
you smile, taking in his nervous demeanor. “thank you.” you reply.
vinnie nods with a smile. “yeah, yeah no problem.” he responds, shoving one of his hands in his jacket pocket.
“you wanna sit? i know that seems forward but you seem…different from everyone else, if that makes sense.” you say with a small chuckle.
vinnie laughs softly with you and nods as he takes a seat, setting his drink down. he looks you over for a minute, noticing all your features.
smiling, you wonder what he’s thinking, why he’s staring at you. you didn’t mind though, he was handsome himself.
“so,” vinnie starts, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his drink. “i’d love to get to know you, if you don’t mind.”
he was nervous, very nervous. he hasn’t been seen like this in five years — before jj was even born.
it felt weird and uncommon. almost like he shouldn’t be doing this. jj was still young, he needed his dad around, and vinnie felt like he couldn’t juggle both at once.
you nod, sipping your drink as well. “what do you wanna know?” you ask.
vinnie sighs, not really knowing what to ask first. “anything really,” he says. “we’ll start with names and go from there.” he chuckles.
you laugh softly, neither of you realizing you haven’t even exchanged names. “i’m y/n.” you smile.
vinnie smiles with you. “vinnie,” he says, referring to himself. “you live here in LA or just visiting?” he then asks.
“i live here,” you smile before taking another sip of your drink. “you?” you ask.
vinnie thought for a moment, thinking weather or not to say what he wants. he doesn’t want to lie and say he’s living alone, but also doesn’t want to scare you with the thought of him having a son, even if this does go nowhere.
“i um… i live here.” he says, anxiety flooding through him. he doesn’t know if he should add on to what he wants to say, or keep it at that.
you notice hehe wants to say more so you smile softly, letting him continue. “i wanna be straight up with you,” he finally said, confidence running through him now. “i-i mean, i don’t know if this’ll even go anywhere, but if it does, i don’t want to lie.”
his words stun you, catch you off guard but you nod your head to let him know to continue. “i have a four year old son, his names jackson but we all just call him jj.”
vinnie notices your smile and is a bit taken aback at your reaction. he sips his drink waiting for you to speak. “awe, he must be adorable!” you gush.
vinnie chuckles. “yeah he’s a pretty good kid. i just wanted to get that out there, didn’t want you to be lied to or anything.” he laughs softly.
you smile at his thoughtfulness and consideration. “i understand,” you say before clearing your throat. “so how old are you if your son’s four?” you ask.
“twenty three.” vinnie answers without hesitation.
he can see the gears turn in your head as you do the math and he stays silent for a minute. “teen dad,” he chuckles. “ i know what you might be thinking but honestly, i couldn’t imagine my life without him, he’s really changed me for the better.” he explains.
you shake your head. “i’m not judging at all, i never would. i’m twenty two by the way.” you smile.
vinnie smiles too, appreciating the fact you’re not judging him for having a child so young. the two of you talk and get to know each other a bit more before vinnie gets a text from his mom, saying jj is wondering where he is.
vinnie chuckles at the text and you smile, confining to finish your cup of coffee. “i should get going, that’s him actually.” vinnie says.
nodding, you stand up with him as you grab your things. “well it was nice to meet you, maybe we’ll see each other around?”
vinnie nods. “yeah definitely,” he smiles. “i’m pretty busy mostly but hopefully we’ll run into each other soon.”
with one last goodbys, you grab your stuff and head out of the coffee shop, vinnie doing the same a few minutes after you.
as he gets back in his car and drives to his parents, he can’t help but think of you, wondering if he’s going to keep his word on not starting a relationship or not.
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introduction !!! i hope you guys are excited for this because i am !! remember you can always come chat with me in my inbox ab dad!vinnie & reader !! i’d love talking with yall ab it !!
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multifandomfanficss · 10 months ago
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F*ck You?
Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader
and the rest of the 11th Street Kids
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Adrian Chase Masterlist
Prompt: Adrian has his own secret way of asking you to sleep with him.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. The team bullying Adrian as per cannon ☹️. Peacemaker typical language.
A/N: Just a silly little thought I had at 5am during a text convo with one of my best friends when I couldn’t sleep. Shout out Tyler for letting me bounce this idea off you. Thanks bestie! Just a short little fic. The italics are flashbacks. Crossposting on my AO3 adriansglasses.
Adrian stuck his middle finger up, pointed at you. You were going through some files on the other side of the room unable to see him behind the papers you were focusing on. Those who saw were giving him questioning looks.
“Dude why are you flipping off, (Y/N)? I didn’t realize you were mad at them” Economos decided to be the first to question him. Usually he didn’t care enough to ask, but even he was curious as to why Adrian was enthusiastically flipping you off.
“Oh! That’s because I’m not. I just wanna have sex when we get back to my apartment. I was saying can I fuck you.” Adrian says, as if it’s obvious. Chris begins to laugh, having overheard the conversation.
“Oh my god. I’m not sure if you’re insane or an idiot.” Harcourt rolls her eyes, walking away.
“I’m pretty sure he’s both. You know that’s not what that means right?” Economos questions.
“It has two meanings.” Adrian says in a very matter of fact way.
“No, it doesn’t.” John argues.
“Then how do they always know what I mean?” Adrian asks, as if he’s proving his point.
Chris continues to laugh to himself as Adrian and Economos argue.
You’re deep in thought, not paying them any attention when Leota passes you the file you were looking for.
“Thanks!” You smile at her.
“Why is Adrian flipping you off?” She asks.
You look over at him, blushing. You nod.
“See!” Adrian yells throwing up his arms. “Two meanings! I told you!”
“Oh god.” You blush, hiding your face in one of the files. You didn’t need the entire team knowing you were going home to have sex after this, but it’s not like it was that big of a surprise. You’d been dating Adrian for a while, of course you had a sex life. “I don’t know how or why he got it into his head that fuck you means can I fuck you- but like I personally think it’s very clever and very cute so I just don’t correct him.” You laugh, deciding to be honest with Leota.
You thought back to the first time he flipped you off in such a manner. You were out with the team celebrating with drinks after a mission. He threw up his middle finger, drawing a question mark in the air with the other hand. You looked at him with a confused look and mouthed. ‘Are you asking me to have sex with you?’ and he mouth back, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Only Adrian could think something like that was obvious. Only Adrian would even do something like that. You smiled, laughing quietly to yourself. It was so uniquely him.
Chris was still laughing uncontrollably in the back. He was thinking of the first time he’d seen Adrian do this too. Little did everyone else know Chris had been the one to teach it to him long before you were dating.
“You really wanna know how I pick up chicks across the bar?” Chris asked with a shit eating smirk.
“Please!” Adrian begged. He could pull girls as Vigilante no problem, but it was a lot harder without the suit.
“Be direct. Just ask if she wants to go home with you. The most subtle way to be direct is to flip her off.” Chris falsely informs.
“Wait… you want me to be subtle and direct? I’m confused.” Adrian asks.
“Well, yeah. You want her to know, not the whole bar.” Chris quickly lies.
“I always thought flipping somebody off was an insult.” Adrian is rightfully cautious.
“It has two meanings. It’s like special. Special can mean you’re one of a kind, cool, awesome, or it could be used the other way.” Chris explains.
“Oh! Okay!” Adrian smiles, before pausing, with a pondering facial expression. “Wait! You call me special all the time.”
“You should hit on that girl over there!” Chris redirects.
“Okay… here goes nothing…” Adrian says, slowly raising his middle finger. The girl looks shocked and starts to walk up to the two men at the bar. “Oh wow! I think it worked!”
Her pace picks up. She walks up to Adrian, slapping him, hard.
“Wait! This is positive! I’m hitting on you!” Adrian says frantically with his finger still up, as she walks away.
“Aw! Fuck! Do you think maybe she had a boyfriend?” Adrian asks, adjusting his glasses and rubbing his jaw.
“Yeah, maybe.” Chris laughs hysterically.
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rogueddie · 11 months ago
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A Spot in My Life T | 953 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is keeping a spare sweater or blanket in the car because they always get cold
Steve Harrington is a bitch.
It's something that Eddie knew, all through high school, but he had thought that Steve had somehow became a new person- thanks to the Upside Down and constantly almost seeing the world end.
Steve isn't a bad guy, he can admit. He's still trying to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they're ok, even checking in with Eddie in his own way.
But he's very sly about it, hiding it being playful jabs, eye rolls and cocked hips.
It rubs him the wrong way. And it's only made worse by how much Eddie still likes him. It's as if the bitchiness only draws him in more, even as it makes his chest burn with irritation.
He tries to avoid Steve for as long as he can. He knows that finally befriending him like they both want will only end badly, but he knows he can't resist the temptation.
He enjoys the time before as much as he can, reveling in how often Steve will try to corner him so they can hang out, how much he whines and pleads and pushes. He enjoys the illusion that Steve could feel anything for him like he does for Steve.
And, when they finally do hang out, his fears are confirmed.
Steve is amazing. He's funnier than he comes across as at first too. He pays attention to what Eddie says and tries to get him anything he wants.
He's the type of friend that anyone would fight for, Eddie is sure. It explains how he ended up so popular in high school too.
If Eddie had known what Steve is truly like, he'd have been lining up for a scrap of his attention like everyone else.
"They're assholes," Steve explains, when Eddie finally asks about his old lackeys. "Tommy always took shit a step too far. I didn't need them. Probably shouldn't have befriended them in the first place."
"They were your friends," Eddie reminds him.
Steve sighs, leaning back. "Yeah, I guess. Just wish I'd realised sooner, how they were getting."
He never complains about the kids, not genuinely. In the quiet moments, when Steve is honest with an almost painful degree of vulnerability, he talks about how amazing the kids are. He talks about how honored he is to be friends with Dustin.
It only makes Eddies feelings inch ever closer to 'the L word'.
"You should talk to him," Robin suggests. "He really is amazing."
"I know, but... guys that are ok with lesbians still get weird about gay men, you know?"
"Yeah, but Steve isn't like that. Did he ever tell you the full story of how I came out to him?"
"It was after the Russian torture drugs, right?"
"We were in the bathroom, near the cinema. I thought we might have puked it all up, so we decided to test it, ask each other questions. So, I asked him if he was ever in love..."
"Oh... oh no."
"Oh yes. He liked me, told me so, and that's when I came out to him."
"Holy shit, Robin."
"But that's my point. He was a little surprised, sure, but he started making jokes, like, immediately. Didn't phase him at all. He got with it immediately. We're just friends, and that's not a problem for him."
Eddie groans, throwing his head back so it thumps into the wall behind him. "But that just makes him more hot!"
The story plagues his mind, to the point that it's the only thing he can think about when he picks Steve up for their next hang out.
In the dead of winter, Steve feels the cold worse than anyone else that Eddie knows. He runs hot, and the sudden temperature drops brings out the worse in him.
He's shivering when he climbs into Eddie's car.
"Fuck, why isn't your heating on?" He whines.
"It's broke," Eddie reminds him. "It's fine, don't worry."
"Don't worry? I'm gonna get hypothermia, Eddie! I don't want to turn into an ice sc- what is that?"
He takes the blanket that Eddie had reached back to grab, staring at it.
"It's a blanket."
"No shit, I mean... it's yellow."
"Yeah? You like yellow."
"You got this for me?"
"You see anyone else shivering in my van?"
"No, it..." Steve pauses, glancing at Eddie before slowly wrapping the blanket around himself. "Sorry, uh... thank you. This is, um, nice."
"it's nothing."
"It's not. Just- take the thanks, Ed."
"Alright, alright."
They're silent for the rest of the drive. It's so unusual for them that it has Eddie nervous, glancing at Steve every other moment.
When they finally pull to a stop, Eddie turns to Steve, who stays where he is. He stares out the front window for a moment, before turning to face Eddie.
"Are you alright?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, I am. Enjoying the warmth."
"That all?"
"... yeah."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible liar."
"Wh- hey, I'm a good liar!" He tries to glare, but quickly backs down with a huff. "Alright, fine, but it's really sappy! Don't say I didn't warn you!"
"Oh, no, the horror."
"Shut up. I was just thinking about how, like... there's so many little things in your life that are for me. My tapes in your room, spare clothes in your closet, this blanket... I really appreciate it, man. You've made space for me in your life. It means a lot to me."
"Oh, right. That's... yeah. Of course, Steve. You're always welcome. I love- uh... spending time with you."
"Good. I love spending time with you too."
"Good."
"Great."
Steve's smile is wide and goofy. He's sure that his own is just as cheesy.
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adorkastock · 6 months ago
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wait, you have aphantasia? do you (or your followers) have any tips for navigating aphantasia as an artist? i have acquired aphantasia due to a TBI and i am trying to relearn How To Do Art. have yet to figure out how i need to adjust my process to accommodate because i keep trying to do things the way I used to and getting frustrated when it doesn't work. Obviously everyone's process will be different but i'd love to hear if you have any ideas.
Oh dang first of all ♥ that is a BIG change to have to deal with. So ♥♥♥ First. THIS WILL BE LONG I GUESS I DONT KNOW HOW TO BE CONCISE ♥ I can assure you can still make art with this new, less picture brain. There's loads of artists with aphantasia and while many of us have had it our wholes lives and had no idea, I am certain we can help give you advice to keep your art going. I will say up front that I started making pose references because I found that my drawings were a LOT better when I worked from reference. Turns out I guess I don't have any head pictures so ??? This explained a lot! I wish I knew how my brain stored info if not visually because I know when I used to draw a lot especially when I drew a lot from life, my figure drawing dramatically improved and I got pretty good at coming up with stuff on my own without references. I guess these would be my tips and I hope people jump in, especially if there's anyone else that's an artist who was a visualizer and is not now. 1) References are your friend! HOARD THEM. Don't be afraid to MAKE them. Take lots of photos, save art that does things you like for inspiration, collect lots and lots of visuals outside your head. 2) Even artists who can visualize often seem to report they cannot always reproduce their head pictures the way they want to. When I have 'an idea for a drawing' it's like a concept in my head. It's kind of just words and maybe some vague composition but again - not sure what it is just know it's not visual. So I gotta THUMBNAIL. A lot of times when I wanna work out what an idea is I just have to doodle a bunch of little versions of it til I go "yep, that's it, that's the one." Basically when I see it I know it's right but I have to see it externally to "see" it. Every piece I make (even my hair bows) I can't really *see* until it's there in front of me. I guess that means this part's advice is: draw little versions of things to work out visual problems on paper rather than in your head. If anyone else has things to add please please do!
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holylulusworld · 5 months ago
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Goldilocks
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Summary: Tony had to ruin Steve's plans.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Reverse Trope: Too many beds
Warnings: mentions of sex practices/toys/anal fisting (nothing happens, no description), too many beds trope, fluff, love-struck Steve, teasing
A/N: This story is part of my reverse tropes' collection.
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“Y/N!“ Steve almost yells your name when Tony asks who will accompany Steve on the next mission. “I mean, Y/N should be my partner for this mission. She knows the region, and we will draw less attention toward us when we pretend to be married.”
“We need to pretend to be married.” You cock a brow. “I thought it was an easy mission. Get in, get the information, and get out.”
“Uh—we found out that the target likes to watch pairs get intimate. He’s a…” Tony clears his throat. He’s by all means not a prude, but the footage he saw last week was more than kinky. “Let’s say he has a certain taste.”
“Leather, crops, pegging, fucking machines?” You count all the things coming to mind while switching back and forth between the notes on your iPad. “Is he a dom or a sub, maybe a switch?”
Tony makes an odd noise while Steve, uncomfortable, shifts in his seat. He stares at you, his eyes glued to the pencil you push into your mouth to chew on it. It was a habit he always hated, but right now, he’d love to replace the pencil with something else. Steve swallows thickly at all the dirty ideas, drowning him like a tidal wave.
Steve opens his mouth. He wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You giggle when your eyes meet Steve’s. His face is flushed, and he drops his eyes to your chest, pretending to find the button on your Henley interesting.
“What kind of flavor is he?” You finally look up from your iPad to find your fellow Avengers staring at you, mouth agape. “What? I like to do my research, guys. We pretend that we are married. Therefore, we need to know if he must fuck me through the wall or just cuddle with me.”
“Fuck…what?” Steve hiccups. His eyes widen as he tries to keep the problem in his pants in line. He can’t think about you like that. Steve is a gentleman and wants to court you before taking you to bed. “Language, doll!”
“Sorry, Cap.” You grin at Tony, who barely hides his interest in your knowledge. “What is it, Tony?”
“Uh-it’s nothing. We should get back to the mission,” Tony nervously stammers. He tugs at the loose tie around his neck. “After all I’ve seen and heard about our target, I can tell you that he’s a kinky bastard. And if I say kinky, I mean it.”
“What are we talking about, Tony?” You lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other. “Are we talking about nipple clams kinky or my fist up his ass kinky?”
Steve spits the water he drank onto his shirt. He coughs and wheezes, making you suck in a breath. You jump up to gently pat his back. “Hey, Cap. You shouldn’t drink so fast. We don’t want you to choke.”
“I think he’d love to choke on something else,” Tony chuckles when you give him the stinky eye. You know, Steve is a little shy and prude when it comes to sex and fecal language.
“Tony, back to my question.”
“He’s ‘you’re injured and can’t walk for a week’ kind of kinky.”
Tony snickers at Steve’s pained expression. He didn’t plan on hammering you through a wall but to ask you out. Steve is a man out of time, but he slowly opened up to you. His heart beats a little faster close to you, and that makes him feel more alive than the adrenaline pumping through his veins during a battle.
“Steve, you better pack the riding crop!” Tony exclaims, making everyone but you and Steve laugh.
You square your jaw. “Don’t worry, Tony,” you coo. “I’ll bring the crop. Stevie only has to bring himself and his strong hands."
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“This house is huge!” You giggle while running from room to room. While you are over the moon because there are six bedrooms at the mansion Tony rented for your mission, Steve is in a sour mood.
Steve is not amused—not at all. Tony talked about a small apartment. One bedroom. One bed. ONLY ONE BED. Steve had it all planned. He’d offer the bed to you, only to accidentally end up on the ground—because he’s a tall man.
You’re sweet and kind, no doubly offering to share the bed with him. Now there are six bedrooms and not a chance for Steve.
“I gotta choose one bed,” you call from inside one of the bedrooms. As you jump onto the bed, grumbling because it’s too soft, Steve sighs deeply. “Not that one.”
Moments later, you run out of the first bedroom and into the second, jumping onto the bed too. “Ouch, that one is too hard!”
“You can choose whichever room you want,” Steve says, and grabs his bag. He walks toward the first bedroom to claim it. You already decided the bed was not for you.
“NEXT!” You giggle and run out of the room to sprint toward the third bedroom. “What the fuck!” Cursing under your breath, you slip off the third bed. “This bed smells odd.”
“What?” Steve calls from inside the first bedroom. He had already unpacked his belongings and was on his way to the bathroom. “Do you need my help?”
“No, all is well,” you grumble and trot out of the room, heaving a sigh. This is not as funny as you believed it would be. The fourth room doesn’t offer much more comfort. It’s too clean, almost sterile, and the bed is as hard as stone. "Fuck, this is awful.”
The fifth one is no better. The bed is too hard, and the carpet is scratchy.
You get back up and walk out of the room to enter the last bedroom. Slowly, you feel like Goldilocks in the fairytale, trying all the beds. This one must be the right one, or you won’t get any sleep.
You’re not picky when it comes to food or clothes. But when it comes to a mattress, you need the perfect mixture of hard and soft.
Taking a deep breath, you drop your duffle bags to the ground and run toward the bed. You jump onto it only to groan again. It’s too fucking soft.
“No, you bitch!” You huff and slam your fists into the mattress. “This can’t be true.”
Meanwhile, Steve steps out of the shower to get ready for bed. Tomorrow will be an exhausting day, spent with observation and faking a relationship.
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“This is awful,” you sigh deeply while aimlessly walking from bedroom to bedroom. You switched into your pajamas, hoping to find a bed on your second round.
“What’s wrong?” Steve calls from inside the first bedroom. He lifts his head from his pillow when you sneak into his room.
You yawn and longingly look at the bed Steve occupies. It would be a bitch move to ask him to switch rooms with you.
“Y/N, you look exhausted and...cranky.” He worriedly watches you step toward his bed. You huff and drop your bags before climbing over him to settle behind him. “Y/N?” He asks as you fluff the second pillow and crawl under the covers.
“That’s the best bed,” you murmur while scooting closer to Steve. He’s warm, and the room is a little chilly.
“I can use one of the other bedrooms if you want this one,” he offers, already moving toward the edge of the bed.
“No,” you say, stopping him before Steve can slip out of bed. “I think you make the bed more comfortable. You warmed it up, and the mattress feels much better now.”
Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when you tell him to turn around and open his arms. Steve watches you move closer to snuggle in his chest, sighing because you finally found the perfect bed.
You close your eyes, enjoying Steve’s warm embrace. “Doll?” He wonders if you are already playing your role or if this is real.
“Shush, Stevie. You need your sleep too,” you softly say and pat his chest. “You need all your strength to fuck me through that wall tomorrow.”
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Tags in reblog.
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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if you aren’t interested literally delete this request but jealous sirius?? mayhaps a jealous sirius that thinks he couldn’t possibly be jealous but then sees you literally talking to another person and is like ‘oh fuck’??? perchance a jealous sirius, in any fashion you may choose???
Thanks for requesting :)
fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 714 words
Sirius is waiting outside your work with iced coffees in both hands and a pastry bag tucked under his arm, because he’s an idiot. He’s been doing more and more boyfriend shit like this lately. He realizes that he’s not supposed to, that it sort of violates the arrangement you’d agreed on all those weeks ago, but you haven’t called him on it and he doesn’t think he’ll stop unless you do. 
Really, the line separating what you have from a relationship is gossamer thin anyway. You’re one of each other’s closest friends, you do nearly everything together, and you also fuck sometimes. The only thing missing from the equation is exclusivity, but Sirius isn’t concerned with that. You’d agreed when you’d started this thing that you could both date whomever you liked, and he’s had no problem with that, with you (because you never tell him about your other dates) or with anyone else (because he’s never wanted to date anyone else). And he isn’t the jealous type anyway. But what he finds himself craving now is the officiality of it. Sirius wants to break the rules. He wants to take you out to nice dinners and buy you flowers and kiss you on the cheek whenever he feels like it. 
He’s become a total sap, basically. 
It’s that sappiness that seeps warm and satisfying into his chest when he sees you appear at the door. You’re smiling, eyes all lit up and—there’s someone else with you. All that shit in his chest crashes straight through to his gut. 
The guy’s wearing your same not-quite uniform, slacks and a black shirt. A coworker. He grins down at you as you talk animatedly, gesturing this way and that to make your point. Sirius loves it when you talk like that. He doesn’t love it that this guy’s getting to see it. 
You see Sirius, and your eyes light all over again, grin spreading. 
“Siri!” You wave goodbye to your coworker, bounding over. “Hi, what’re you doing here?” 
“I thought you might want a pick-me-up,” he says, passing you your iced coffee. 
Your mouth drops open, still quirked up at the corners in a dorky sort of grin. “No way, thank you!” 
“Sure.” Sirius wants to be better than this, and he really thought he was, but— “Who was that?” he asks, keeping his tone blasé as he starts to walk towards your place. 
You glance behind you as if you’ve forgotten who he could mean. “Oh, that was Marc.” You take a sip of your coffee, eyes closing blissfully. 
Sirius nods slowly, doing the same. “Does he work here?”
“Mhm. Yeah, he’s cool.” 
“Neat.” 
It's possible a bit more rancor slips into his tone than he intends, because you look over at him curiously. Sirius is suddenly cognizant of the urge to kiss you fast and hard, making fucking sure Marc and everyone else in your work sees. He opens up the pastry bag to distract you both. 
“Got some snacks too.” 
“Ooh.” You peer into the bag, drawing in a delighted gasp at the array of treats inside. “Can I have the chocolate donut?” 
“Course.” He grins down at you, enjoying the way your eyes crinkle in return. “You can have whatever you want.” 
“Thanks.” You take it from the bag, biting into the soft pastry eagerly. A bit of frosting gets on the skin just below your lip. Sirius thumbs it away before he can stop himself. “S’this a precursor for sex?” you say through a mouthful. “Are you buttering me up for something?” 
And Sirius wants to tell you that it’s not, wants to say that he likes doing things for you and that there doesn’t need to be more to it than that, but his tongue is more practiced in bawdiness than sincerity. 
“It is if you want it to be, sweet thing,” he says smoothly. 
Your laughter twinkles through him like starlight, and you link your arm through his, tugging him closer as you walk.
“Fine,” you drawl with false reluctance. “But we don’t have that long, my flatmate will probably be home just after five.” 
Sirius flexes his bicep, drawing you closer still. Tells himself that at least you’re not still thinking about Marc. 
“I can work with that.” 
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hwnglx · 5 months ago
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this combo of sag and scorpio energy in him is crazy..
sunghoon's ideal type
based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!
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shuffled song: stand still by sabrina claudio
physical traits
watery and striking eyes. (when their eyes just stand out, he thinks lighter colored or blue eyes are beautiful) classic and traditional beauty. conventionally attractive. powerful presence, turns everyone's heads. feminine and elegant. gorgeous and blinding smile. longer and flowy hair. taller height. water or fire risings! i keep seeing margot robbie or anne hathaway.
personality traits
the immediate vibe i got for sunghoon, is that he wants someone invested. and when i say invested, i mean fully. i've said this a lot at this point, but sunghoon has such a dynamic chart, which shows this clear difference in character according to who he's with. he can either be the most easygoing and laidback, or the most intense and passionate person in the room. just put his lover (or someone he deeply cherishes) next to him, and you'll literally see the gaze in his eyes change.
sunghoon wants someone who can handle his intense nature in love. someone who resembles it to a degree, because otherwise they might get overwhelmed or not understand it. he really needs his and his partners love language, and their values in relationships to correlate. he wants to feel like he shares the same passion as his lover, and not get the impression that he's the only one holding on so tightly, when his partner is just kinda meh about it all. he wants a deep and intimate connection, that goes beyond what anyone else could understand. he wants a person he can have a relationship with, that is separate from all the rest, and special and extraordinary in his life. he draws a clear line between the people he holds extra close to his heart, and his standard “friends”. there's this version of sunghoon only his lovers could tell you about.
he likes it when someone won't get intimidated by his intensity. who can hold their ground firmly, not falter under his gaze. he also likes someone who's just very affectionate and romantic. a person who won't be afraid or too shy to be direct in their display of love for him. he wants someone who knows how to love someone in a proper way, who's good at making him feel loved. i also keep hearing “mother of my children” this man is all about longterm commitment. he wants a family-oriented woman who'd be a good mother. responsible and reliable, but also soft and nurturing.
sunghoon loves the idea of a lengthy relationship. he likes sharing history and memories with his lover. i can see him liking the thought of growing old and maturing with his partner, going through various stages together. he wants his lover to be like an “인생 친구” which means lifelong friend. again, it'd give them this special ability to know each other in and out, have things or inside jokes only the two of them understand.
sunghoon also needs his lover to understand that, although he'll be incredibly zoned in on their relationship, he still has goals and achievements of his own, which he won't neglect for their connection. his job requires a lot of work and time, and the possibility of him not always being there 24/7 shouldn't be a problem for his partner. especially because, he truly wants them to trust him. he is not the type to cheat or look elsewhere if he's in a committed relationship. he wants his lover to understand that, and tolerate his personal ambitions. i can also see him liking the thought of his partner having their own ambitions. he enjoys the thought of both of them being goal-driven and hardworking, but once they come together, they can't see anything but each other. in comparison to some other people, sunghoon definitely likes his lovers to resemble him, rather than be entirely different. i can just see him and a gemini venus being extremely difficult. (funny because sunoo is one and yeah.. their relationship is rather complicated)
him as a boyfriend
+ he's a boyfriend who doesn't rush into anything. very slow burning energy. in the beginning stages, sunghoon will be very curious about you as a person. he prefers getting to know his lovers thoroughly first, really getting a grip on their character, understanding their desires and values before taking the next step. he wants to make sure you're on the same wavelength with him, and get this feeling you're the right one, before investing so much of himself into the relationship. he thinks deep and intimate connections between two people who effortlessly understand each other, require a lot of patience. you just have to know each other's every aspect, he'll definitely want to be the only one to know some secrets, you do not tell anyone else about.
he's an amazing listener. he'll enjoy sitting there listening to you talk about yourself for hours and not get tired of it. literally stare in to your soul while you keep rambling. only interrupt you to ask questions and deepen the conversation.
he's definitely a sucker for intimacy, especially in places where he, and no one would expect it. like whispering things in his ear in public could probably make this man melt. i also keep seeing him hold hands with his partner in public and literally squeeze the hell out of their hand, in this possessive manner. like he's telling you “you're mine and with me.” in a wordless manner. there'll be a lot of silent communication between you, you'll just get each other right away.
there's also a very considerate and calm energy to him, where he'll display this source of peace for you. this is something i've observed about scorpio placements, especially venus', they're very.. understanding towards overemotional people. they can handle people's emotional outbursts, and mostly don't get consumed by it. on the contrary, a lot of the times, they quietly allow you to get your emotions and frustrations out, validate your feelings and not make you feel overdramatic, and try to talk things out calmly with you. let's say sunghoon gets into a fight with his partner; if you start getting angry and throwing things and losing your mind, he's the type to just sigh and sit there and control his own emotions silently while listening to you. he'll probably give you a little time to calm down, and once he feels you're ready to be talked to again, he'll try and talk the matter out in a more rational manner. very emotionally mature and compassionate energy in him. (interesting since i remember in my collective enha ideal type reading, he seemed to struggle with this. he seems to have grown a lot)
- sunghoon can be very hot or cold. it's like once he's with you, everything's great and a fairytale and you feel amazing, but once he's away, it's easy to feel like he forgot about you. he's very busy, so it can be a common occurrence for him to forget replying to you, not talk to you for days, make you feel left alone, because his love can be quite addicting. it's easy to feel dependent on scorpio venus', because they literally make you feel like life without them would be awful. even if you confronted him about this, he could get discontent with you giving him such a hard time about something he can't help. sunghoon draws a clear line between his personal and professional life, which he wants his partners to respect.
i do not see him cheating or doing anything wild, he's extremely loyal. he will not look at any other woman if he's a taken man. however, sunghoon still wants freedom, he doesn't enjoy feeling like you suffocate him while he's working (like spamming him with calls and texts because he isn't answering while busy, that'd frustrate him) yet at the same time he got you to the point of naturally clinging to him. “you made me be like this!” is what i can imagine his partner accusing him of. it can just get draining to deal with someone, who has such contrasting values when it comes to love, and his own ego and career.
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♠️ Being found in the Borderlands all by your own. ♠️
Summary: You have already been in the Borderlands for a few days and are familiar with the essential components. After a game, you've lost everyone you had a good bond with. You are the only one who was able to survive. Physically and mentally injured, you sit on the side of the road in the middle of the destroyed and desolate Shibuya district. Ready to drop everything - ready to give up - you'll be found by new players who may or may not have the willingness to help you back up when you've fallen so far.
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Characters: Arisu, Chishiya & Niragi.
POV: gn!reader
Warnings: Threats, Weapon (Gun)
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A r i s u
The sight of you reminds him a little of himself. He knows the look on your face when you stare in the middle of the void and don't make any effort to move from the spot, even though you know exactly how dangerous it is to just stay in one place and do nothing. When Arisu finds you, he immediately knows what's going on inside you, which is why he's already determined to help you in some way. The problem is that he doesn't know how to help you, considering he doesn't even know how to help himself.
And yet he dares to come to you after a moment's hesitation. Slowly, so you don't think he's trying to hurt you, but… even that wouldn't matter to you at that moment.
At least you don't even dare to look at him. You could say that your self-protection mechanism has left you completely. You're not afraid. No grief. Just… well, what do you feel? Nothing. Actually, it's just an oppressive void.
"I like to be part of someone else's suffering."
With these words, Arisu manages to draw your attention to him. He may get a confused, almost bewildered look from you, but it's worth it to him right now.
"All right, you don't have to say anything. Let's just… let's just sit here together for a little while and look into the distance. And if you need someone to talk to, then ... I'll be here."
What a strange guy, you think.
Still ... it's quite nice gesture, of course.
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C h i s h i y a
Just on the way to the next game, Chishiya meets you. He actually had better things to do than take care of you, which is why he didn't want to pay attention to you at all, but he finds it strange that you don't respond to anything.
He's just a few feet in front of you and you're looking right at him. His gaze is focused on you, you don't react. He speaks to you with a "Hard Game Finished?" but you sit silently on your spot and don't even make the slightest attempt to give him an answer. Nonsense. Apparently, you didn't even hear him. What if he waves? You're still not moving.
That eventually makes him come over to you, just to see if you're at least reacting to it. It's sad to say nothing's happening here either. Only when he squats in front of you and looks straight into your eyes, do you at least give the reaction of you to move your eyes so that you don't look straight into his. Eye contact has never been your strength.
"Pale. Slight tremor. Indifference."
He doesn't care if you listen to him at all, but the fact is, he's going to have to give up the upcoming game after all.
"A slight shock, it looks like."
Without thinking about it, he sits down on the stony, cold floor, inspecting the wound in your face while keeping a healthy distance from you.
"I can stitch the wound when you come back to reality."
Why is he even telling you this? He'll have to start smiling about it himself. There won't be any feedback from you either way.
"It's okay", he says, "I have time."
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N i r a g i
Most people who know him know how impulsive and violent Niragi can be, but as far as you're concerned, you have absolutely no clue. You didn't even mean for him to trip over your legs. You just sit on the floor and try to deal with the straightforward experience somehow. Forget the pictures of your comrades being brutally murdered. But now you are being prevented from doing so by being all the time riddled with a psycho, one might say, whom you have never even seen before in your life.
Normally, you'd apologize for what happened. I don't care if it was really your fault or not. As long as they leave you alone and go back on their way. And if there weren't any excuses, you'd at least take your legs and just walk away to get out of the situation.
Today, however, it is different. You let the curse and the provocation come upon you. Insults pass you by and don't interest you in the slightest. This, however, makes everything feel even worse. Don't you always say you shouldn't get involved with people like that? That you should just ignore them because then they'd stop harassing you? After all, it should be boring to just give monologues at some point, right? Not with Niragi, who will eventually point his gun at you, threatening to kill you if you continue to ignore him.
"Do it," you whisper softly to yourself, which is more than just serious. "Kill me," you continue, "there's nothing keeping me here any more…"
That's where you finally turn to the unknown, whom you have taken out of concept with these words.
He lowers his gun slowly and only looks at you with irritation. Did you really just say that? Did you really just give him permission to kill you with his own hands? To shoot you down?
"Wow."
Even him makes this speechless.
"Looks like someone's already done with their life."
Without saying anything else, he looks down at you in disgust, holding the gun loosely with both of his hands again, before only a bored "Hm" comes over him.
"Freak", he says, leaving you alone from now on.
Luck in unhappiness, you think ...
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flamingpudding · 2 years ago
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Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham
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How to catch a baby brother
Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.
The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.
Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.
"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."
"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"
Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.
"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."
"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.
"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."
"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.
"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.
"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."
"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.
"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"
"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."
"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"
"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"
He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.
"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.
"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."
He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.
"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."
At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.
"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.
"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"
"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.
"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."
Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.
A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"
"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.
"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."
"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.
"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."
Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.
That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"
Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.
Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.
Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.
"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"
"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"
"Hey!"
This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.
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