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killerpancakeburger · 4 months

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KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself.

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake.

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom.

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction.

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant.

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

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svtswhorehouse · 3 months

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DATING JEONGHAN INCLUDES…. — sfw

• your boyfriend or your bully? (just kidding he absolutely adores you.)

• he would definitely 100% talk to you in a baby voice.

• he considers staying home and building the most difficult and intricate lego sets a date.

• oh he definitely takes such good care of you.

• another one in which you never have to drive because he always offers to.

• he's honestly the type of person to say no to having an animal. he insists on a pet rock being more than enough (he might let you get a bunny though if you beg hard enough.)

• jeonghan’s the angel on your shoulder, but he’s also the devil on the other.

• would buy you lego flower bouquets instead of real ones. he claims they would last you forever (and they do.)

• he always has your back, even when you're in the wrong. he would probably end up gaslighting the other person easily to get you off the hook (it works every time.)

• he's probably the type of person to trip you in public. 100% laughs at you before helping you up.

• he may cheat in games a lot, but whenever he's up against you, he ALWAYS plays fair.

• he's really into physical affection, but keeps it low-key. normally has an arm around your shoulder or your hand intertwined with his — he tends to kiss your knuckles time to time.

• honestly, the BEST when it come to comforting you. he knows exactly what to say and exactly what to do.

• he would let you play with his hair anytime you want. doesn't care what you do, even if you put it in pig tails. as long as he's getting head scratches, it's whatever.

• he always offers you a bite of his food and insists you eat it even if you don't want it.

• you could tell him absolutely anything and everything and he would never judge you for it.

• late night conversations with him could go on for hours and they're the best.

• jeonghan’s not the type of person to get jealous easily. he's fully confident in not only his looks, but his relationship as well.

• ONE OF THE BEST KISSERS and i stand by that idc.

• his presence is so calming and comforting that it makes it easy to fall asleep whenever you're around him so consider your insomnia cured.

• he's constantly teasing you, but he can read you very well and knows when to back off.

• despite him being a light sleeper, he falls asleep within the blink of an eye whenever he's with you. he calls you his melatonin.

• he will put you on the spot in group settings or just in general because he enjoys when you're flustered.

• he whispers the answer into your ears or which move to make next whenever you're playing a game. you would always end up winning because of this.

• whenever you two argue, he's actually really good at understanding your feelings and communicating. he insists on making up and not going to bed angry at each other.

• y’all would definitely double/triple date with seungcheol, joshua, and their s/o's.

• he's definitely the type to scare the shit out of you after y’all watch a scary movie.

• even though he gets cold easily, if you ever forget your jacket, he will give you his without even thinking about it. don’t even try to argue with him.

• he will always match your excitement with his own, even if he’s grumpy or having a bad day. jeonghan refuses to dull your sparkle.

• he always makes sure there’s a hair tie on his wrist for you (sometimes two so he can have one as well.)

• he is truly one of the best people to talk shit with. if you hate someone, then he hates them too. if you wanna punch someone, well then he sure as hell isn’t holding you back — he’s helping you and drop kicking them.

• he would probably use your shampoo ngl.

• he’s ridiculously good at making eye contact and maintaining it so whenever you’re talking to him, you tend to get butterflies (it’s okay though because this just proves he’s being attentive.)

• he probably has some weird, funny photo of you as his lockscreen, but everytime he looks at his phone he smiles in admiration.

• LAZY DATES. he prefers being in the comfort of your own home and as long as you’re with him, you’re content.

• he would laugh at any joke you make no matter how lame.

• he would indulge in cute little activities you like such as coloring or even playing just dance.

• y’all have weird hobbies together. i’m talking hobbies like going to couples therapy and making the therapist uncomfortable as y’all pretend to be angry over stupid shit when in reality your relationship is perfect. (the look on the therapist’s face when you tell her you’re jealous because of his pet rock is priceless.)

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azsazz · 1 month

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Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I��ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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whitefeathers · 3 months

Note

Anon because I’m shy as hell lol but big fan of how you write daddy!butcher because YOU KNOW he gets off on the idea of being like a protector/knight in shining armor. Like he’s gonna be damn sure that you’re safe, even if he gets a wee bit banged up.

dont be shy sweetheart i will NEVER judge u !

also THANK YOU you get it … daddy!butcher is a very very specific guy and honestly? I think he’s pretty much canon, we know he’s got major daddy issues and we know he’s a protector (in his own fucked up way)… it just makes SENSE for him to be a daddy dom !!

more thoughts below the cut - tw for pseudocest/ddlg , daddy!butcher, and daddy issues

he wants so desperately to protect. that’s all he’s ever wanted deep down, even if he thinks he wants revenge or violence or whatever. He’s a rough bastard so all that soppy shite comes out as aggression, but deep deep down he is a protector at his core, and needs to be someone’s knight in shining armor.

When you walk into his life you’re so pure, untainted by the violence and aggression he’s so used to. There’s no greater agenda, no malice to you - you’re just a normal girl, a good girl. That’s not to say you have no personality to you - Billy loves how cheeky you can get, and how sassy you are - but you’re just a good little sweetheart at your core, wanting to be happy and make others happy. That’s part of why Billy’s obsessed with you. You’re just so sweet.

He naturally takes on a parental role in your life, being many years your senior and the leader of his group. Don’t stare at ya phone so much, gonna give yaself a headache. Don’t stay up too late, need a good night’s kip or you’ll be a grumpy cunt tomorrow.

Little things, inconsequential things, that show he cares enough about you to order you around.

He’s sweeter on you than anyone else in his life, letting you hog the hot water in the shower every morning and pretending to be full so you can finish his dessert. He always covers up his kindness with some sort of quip - “ya need the hot water, you smell diabolical,” - but you know it’s because he likes you. The thought alone makes you blush.

He finds out about all the terrible shit your father put you through one night when you’re sharing a bottle of cheap vodka together, just the two of you.

He tells you about his own sperm donor, and laments about how he’s always wanted to be someone’s father figure, their knight in shining armor. He doesn’t mention how it gets him off to have that much control, but not in a clinical way like being a master or a sir. Being a daddy is different. It’s warm, caring, corrupted. It’s a complete control and a complete care that would prove Butcher as the capable, fucked up hero he’s always been.

“That generational trauma bollocks, innit? Want to right the wrongs of me old man. Somethin’ so nice about bein’ a daddy. I’d be fucked though,” he takes a swig from the bottle straight, only wincing slightly before putting it back down on the table and letting his eyes flicker to you. He speaks with drunken candour.

“Always wanted a little girl to take care of, little girlfriend to be mine. Same soft tone of voice when she begs for more cock as when she begs for more sappy fuckin’ cuddles.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. This is all you have ever wanted, all you have ever needed. And Butcher, the hottest older man you’ve ever met, his beard greying and his eyes stern, is basically offering it to you if you’re brave enough to read into the subtext of his words.

“I’ve always wanted to be that,” you whisper. There’s words unspoken in your sentence - always wanted to be that, for you, with you - but the subconscious way you lean closer to Butcher tells him the words you aren’t brave enough to speak.

“That so?” He hums, opening his thick arms for you. An opening, an opportunity for you to take, to cuddle into his chest and let him take control. You look up at him, scared as a deer in headlights but as excited as a puppy in heat, needing the extra guidance, the approval.

“Don’t be shy. Come to daddy.”

When your head meets his chest and your ass meets his lap, all the constant noise in your head dulls into a peaceful silence. His arms wrap around you and he pets your hair, shushing you gently, promising he’s going to keep you out of danger no matter how bloody his knuckles have to get in the process.

This is how it’s always meant to be between the pair of you.

#cherry does... butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x reader smut #billy butcher smut #the boys x reader #Cherry does… the boys

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myspacebrat · 1 year

Text

first time for everything…

virgin eddie munson x experienced best friend reader

summary: Eddie has been in love with you since middle school. But he’d never admit it, no way, he’d never ruin what you two have… once he turns 18 he’s unwillingly drafted into the war while you go off to college in New York. Once the war is over Eddie is sent back to his mundane life in Hawkins and you move back when your grandmother gets sick. As fate has it, you and Eddie find your way back to each other.

warnings: smut ahead, mdni 18+, angst, late 60s—mid 70s au, fem reader, no y/n, pet names (princess, sweetheart etc.), mentions of slut shaming, reader is looking for love in all the wrong places, jealous!eddie, mentions of war, mentions of dying, Eddie has ptsd, mentions of a loved one having only months to live, loss of a family member, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, fluff fluff fluff.

authors note: thank you so much to the nonnie that requested this, I’m sure it’s so different from what you had in mind but I got very inspired after watching Forrest Gump. (this has a happy ending) Also, the timeline here vs the actual Vietnam war barely coincide… so ignore that please. Thank you to my loves @take-everything-you-can & @corrodedcorpses for beta reading! <3

wc: 8.1k

1966

“Hey, what are you doing sitting over here all alone?” A boyish voice calls out from behind where you’re seated; up against an old oak tree with just enough shade to allow you to read the words in your book.

Middle school was rough and you kept to yourself, being the new kid and all. Making friends in Bumsville, Indiana turns out was way harder than making friends in Phoenix. This town was far too small and with the way you’d dress and carry yourself, well… that was clarification enough that you didn’t belong. But that was okay, you didn’t want to belong in a place like this, anyway.

“Just reading.” Your small bashful voice is such a stark contrast to how you are at home, in a place of comfortability.

“Yeah, I see that… whatcha reading?” The mystery voice now no longer a mystery as he steps out from behind the tree, his worn and tattered converse step closer, causing you to look up, meeting a familiar set of brown doe eyes.

He wasn’t in your class but you had seen him a bunch, throughout the halls and at lunch.

He seemed to be the only interesting person in this hick town.

You pick your pink book up, allowing him to read the title, which he does out loud to himself.

“Valley of the dolls.” He says curiously. “What’s that about?”

The book looked far too girly for his taste, but as long as it gave him more reason to stand here and talk to you, he’d indulge.

“Wait, let me guess… something about dolls?” He smirks, while taking a seat on the fluffy grass, beside you.

“No actually, it’s about three best friends who live in New York, they’re struggling to get by so they decide to make their mark in show business, but shit just kind of spirals for them and well it’s not a very happy ending.” You fix your bookmark in place before closing it and placing it into your backpack.

“Oh, also ‘dolls’ is just another word for drugs.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

Eddie stays silent for a moment, before he looks over to you, hands nervously picking at the grass below him.

“Mmm, sounds interesting… guess it’s true what they say, not to judge a book by its cover.” He says with a shy smile.

1968

“Would you scoot over!” You screech, while shoving your elbow into the frizzy haired boy, practically sitting in your lap.

You and Eddie had been inseparable best friends, since that very interaction under the big oak tree. You were both immediately drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. He agreed, you seemed to be the only interesting thing in this hick town.

“It’s my couch, woman!” He screeches back, playfully pushing your head out of the way.

“Fine, I’ll just sit on the floor.” you scoff before scooting your butt down from the couch, plopping onto the scratchy brown carpet. You roll your eyes when Eddie decides to dramatically fling himself across the whole couch, as if he’s been waiting for you to move your ass this whole time, the jerk.

“Hey, did I tell you Billy asked me to go to the drive-in with him?” You say as your eyes remain on the television set, hand mindlessly grabbing for the popcorn bowl placed on the coffee table.

You miss the way Eddie visibly swallows, and the way his fists tighten on the material of his jeans.

“Um, no you didn’t.” He mumbles, as his longing eyes burn holes into the back of your head.

“Yeah, well he did.” You take a sip of your Pepsi, washing down the kernels of popcorn stuck to your tongue. “Do you think he’ll wanna go all the way?” You ask Eddie before taking another sip.

His eyes widen into saucers before he begins wiping his clammy palms against his clothed thighs.

You’d never talked about sex with Eddie, maybe about some girls he thought were cute and vice versa, but never sex.

Ahem, he clears his throat before he speaks. “I don’t know, but he’s a guy so I wouldn’t put it past him.” His doe eyes, usually so full of light now droop like one of those precious moments dolls.

He begs the universe for you not to look back at him, he knows as soon as you do you’ll be able to read him like a book.

You’ll know you’re breaking his heart.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready though.�� You say, before grabbing another handful of buttery popcorn.

“Then you shouldn’t do something you’re not ready for.” Eddie says with a deep breath of relief.

“But I mean, I kind of want to just get it over with, I don’t buy into the bullshit of ‘waiting for the right one’ it’s such horse shit, and is only a thing because of the patriarchy.”

Eddie so badly wants to say: I’m the right one, lose it to me.

But he could never put his heart out there like that, to inevitably be stomped on. He knows you’d never purposely break his heart, but he also knows he’s in love with someone that couldn’t possibly feel the same way for him, and that’s just something he has to live with.

Even if that means sitting on the sidelines while boys come and go. He knows he’ll always be your number one…well until you fall for some douchebag after high school and realize Eddie’s just your friend, and is eventually replaced when you decide to get married and have said douchebags, douchebag offspring.

But he’ll place that in a box in his mind to deal with later.

1970

You lost your virginity to Billy the night he took you to the drive in.

Those feelings of being wanted and loved, although just for that night sent you on a high you thought you’d never come down from.

Your freshman year, you went on lots of dates, slept with lots of undeserving guys and although those feelings never followed you home, you felt as though it was worth it to just feel them if even for 5 minutes.

You were playing a dangerous game, especially in a small town where word of your promiscuity would travel faster than a forest fire.

And although Eddie had begrudgingly heard the rumors in the locker room and in some of his classes, he never looked at you differently, never judged you.

He’d stick up for you every time, although that led to plenty instances of him getting the shit kicked out of him. He already had a target on his back, being the freak and all, but he didn’t care, no one was going to disrespect you, not in his presence, anyway.

His feelings never seemed to fade, his heart still beat for you no matter who you gave yourself to.

Of course Eddie wanted to be your first, but you were right, it is a social construct in order to make women more subservient to men, Eddie was a feminist afterall.

“Aw, did you wait here for me?” You ask as your hands clutch your trapper keeper to your chest.

Eddie was leant up against the brick wall of the school, the right sole of his shoe was flush against it, knee bent as his skin protruded from the hole in his jeans. A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips, a habit he had just picked up from an older boy that lived in the trailer across from him.

“Well duh, now that that asshole you were seeing isn’t driving you anymore, I thought we could walk together.” He mumbles before taking a puff of his spliff.

“You’re so sweet to me.” You smile before snatching the cigarette that now blazed between his ringed fingers, you take a quick inexperienced puff before passing it back.

He smirks while taking one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and stomping it out for good measure under his beaten and written on converse. He’s glad the action has given him a chance to get a good look at you as you walk ahead of him, it was his favorite thing to do when you’d both go on mindless strolls.

“You look pretty today.” The compliment slipped so easily from his lips.

You turn around to meet his eye, walking backwards rather uncoordinatedly.

“You look pretty, too.” You say with a wink, before turning back around.

Eddie was none the wiser that day, when your face flushed for him the very first time.

1971

“Eddie! Put me down!” You shriek as you kick and flail, the water from the pool splashing around and creating tiny waves for the other swimmers.

“Never!” He says ironically before throwing you into the far end, his maniacal laugh can be heard from under water.

“You’re such a dick sometimes, Munson.” You say as you swim to the steps, hoisting yourself up and out of the community pool.

You’re in a little red bikini and the way your hips sway has Eddie mesmerized.

You sit on one of the lawn chairs, drying off under the beaming sun.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” Your eyes shoot open, falling on two round pools of honey.

“Um no, not at all.” You say as you give the boy a shy smile.

“I’m Steve.” He says as he takes a seat in the chair closest to you.

“Hi, Steve.” His name felt like sex on your tongue.

Eddie watched from the pool as you and Steve got acquainted, he wanted to punch himself for practically pushing you into the arms of another guy.

He couldn’t sit here and watch you laugh at this asshole's jokes, he had to get out of here.

1972

“Why am I so hard to love?” You cry out, mascara running down your face, as your head is placed in your best friend's lap.

“You’re not hard to love!” He says before tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, and thumbing a tear off the side of your cheek. “You just keep picking the worst douche canoes available.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I thought Steve was different, he really acted like he cared about me, ya know?” You sniffle as your manicured fingers play with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans.

“Yeah well, those jock assholes will tell you anything to get in your pants.” Eddie says with a tick of his jaw.

“You’re right, I should become celibate or something… I’m just so tired of letting these assholes take from me, without getting anything in return.” You murmur with another sniffle.

Eddie liked that idea, you being celibate.

For your own good, of course.

1973

“Oh my god! Can you believe we’ll be out of this shithole soon?” You eagerly say, as you walk up to your best friend's locker.

The glum look in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you.

“Hey Eddie, what's wrong?” Your eyes examine the slump of his shoulders and the bloodshot red in his eyes, although that could be from him smoking during lunch, but the puffiness underneath tells you otherwise.

He slammed his locker before making his way towards the double door exit, not even stopping to take a second look at your stunned face.

You run after him, launching yourself between Eddie and the door of his van.

“Eddie, talk to me, what happened?” The urgency in your voice makes his eyes begin to water, again.

“I got my draft letter yesterday after school, they’re sending me to fucking Vietnam.” His eyes don’t meet yours, they can’t or it’ll make this all so much worse.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry.” Your lip begins to quiver at the thought of Eddie in a foreign place, getting bombed and shot at. “Ed’s, I-I…” you’re not even sure what to say, how to make him feel better, you couldn’t even if you tried. For the first time since you’ve known him, you were unable to comfort him.

“I gotta go.” He says before smoothly stepping around you and getting into his van, his wheels peel off leaving tire tracks on the tarmac.

You knew Eddie wasn’t mad at you specifically, he was mad at the situation. You and him had talked about running off together and getting out of this podunk town so much it had become a common topic when you two would hang out. You had agreed to get an apartment, you’d go to college while he got a good paying job with his diploma. But that dream quickly went down the drain when he got his draft letter in the mail.

All he wanted was to be with you, wherever you both decided to fuck off to, but now you’d be going alone, and he’d be sent off to a war he could potentially die in.

Class of 73’

“Give it up for the class of 73’!” Principle Higgins shouted into the mic, sat on top of the wooden podium.

You and Eddie's eyes had met a handful of times during the ceremony and every time they did, a lump would form in your throat at the idea of this being it for you two.

Everyone clapped and whistled as you threw your green tasseled hat into the air with Eddie and the rest of your classmates.

You make your way into the crowd of parents and friends ready to congratulate their new graduates.

“Congratulations sweetheart.” Uncle Wayne says, while wrapping you up into a grizzly bear of a hug.

“Thanks Wayne.” You say with a bashful smile. “Where’s eddie?” Your eyes scan the crowd as you look for your favorite curly headed freak.

“Oh he’s around here somewhere.” Wayne softly smiles as he gives your back a small pat. “I'm gonna go talk to Ms. Duvall right over there. I’ll see you later, kid.” He says with one last heartfelt smile.

You nod your head in understanding before you go right back to scanning over the herd of people.

“Hey you.” The same voice from that day under the oak tree, calls out from behind you, well you had to admit it was a little more manly now.

You turn around quickly on your heel, eyes meeting your favorite pair.

“Hey.” You say with a bright smile, your heart begins beating a mile a minute, with feelings settling into your stomach that you weren’t quite ready to assess.

“We did it!” Eddie says before grabbing the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you into a warm hug. The side of your face resting on his chest makes your stomach flutter so hard you think you might puke from the nervousness he’s is stirring within you.

These feelings were too new and they scared the shit out of you.

“So you ready for New York?” He asks with a melancholy smile.

“Honestly? No, not really.” You say muffled into his chest before you pull away to look at him.

You weren’t ready to start a life without your best friend.

“When do you leave?” His hand continues to slide through your hair, making your stomach flip upside down.

“In a couple days.” You murmur before swallowing hard, now unable to meet his eyes.

“You’ll have a good time, meet some cool people.” He’s trying to pretend his heart isn’t breaking but the look in his eyes is not lost on you, your heart is breaking too.

“I couldn’t ever meet anyone as cool as you.” You whisper as your glassy eyes now meet his.

He smiles albeit a weak one, but he wishes those words were true.

“You staying celibate through college?” He joked, giving your arm a little nudge.

“That’s the plan, but who knows.”

The implications set Eddie’s stomach ablaze in the most painful way.

If I don’t find someone, fall in love and replace you.

Fuck the government for choosing him to fight in a war he didn’t even believe in. He could’ve been getting ready to leave with you, maybe even get the chance to finally tell you how much he’s been in love with you ever since he sparked up a conversation under that big oak tree.

There was no way he could tell you that now, he’d hate himself forever if he knew there was any chance you could’ve been his for all these years. It’s too late for him now.

You had stayed with Eddie that night, your stomach was in absolute knots just thinking about leaving him, you needed one more night with him, if this was the last chance you’d get to ever see each other again, you needed it. Just for tonight.

You spent most of it in each other's arms, crying and replaying your favorite memories and then crying some more.

He had confided in you, told you that if he died while overseas he’d die a virgin.

Eddie was never open with you about girls that he was seeing, you had assumed he’d had sex with at least one. The shock on your face was enough to make him want to cower away in embarrassment.

You’d both thought about making love to each other that night. You so badly wanted to be his first, get to have him in that way before life ran its course, but you just couldn’t. You knew it would make leaving each other that much harder, and fuck was it already so hard.

1974

College in New York was chaotic to say the least, life was so fast paced, it had taken so long to get accustomed.

And with your new fast paced, busy life, it left it close to impossible to sit down and write letters.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Then there was Brendon, a guy you had met in your economics class. He was nice, he treated you better than you’d ever been treated but it just never felt right. It was almost as if there was a wedge, something in between you two making it impossible for you to fall in love. Someone.

August of 75’

You had gotten a rather urgent call from your grandpa, glumly notifying you that your grandma was sick and only had months to live.

You’d taken the first flight out back to Hawkins.

Your grandparents were all you had, you couldn’t stay in New York knowing you’d never get to see your gram gram again.

You had worked so hard these past two years, but in the end you had decided family came first. You would take a year off from college if it was required, just to help your papa after gram passed.

Walking out of the airport and into the warm summer sun of Hawkins was bittersweet.

This is the first time you’d be here while Eddie wasn’t. There wasn’t a moment that passed where you didn’t think about him. You questioned whether he’d be mad that he didn’t hear from you after all this time, or even care at all.

More than anything you hoped he was okay.

You never kept up with the news and what was going on over there. It was too much, too real.

September of 75’

Your gram had passed three weeks after your arrival back in Hawkins, you had done your best to stay by her bedside as your papa got things arranged for her eventual funeral.

You were numb for the first couple days until you had eventually broken down and sobbed for a good hour and a half.

The thought of losing Eddie made the tears fall even harder. You loved your gram but you were in love with Eddie, you knew that now. If he didn’t make it, you didn’t know how you’d handle it. How you’d ever move on.

You could kick yourself for not writing to him, at least to ask if he was okay.

What if he thinks you don’t care about him now? You’d hope he’d understand that college was so busy for you.

21st of September 1975

Grams funeral had been lovely, a celebration of her life with her closest friends and loved ones.

The funeral house was a quaint little tudor style home. Her pictures had been displayed beautifully among a table of red roses.

You cried when the funeral director had closed her casket for good.

25th of September 1975

You had spent your morning and afternoon cleaning your grandparents house. Your papa left on a fishing trip, said he couldn’t be in this house any longer.

You understood how he must be feeling, stuck in a place that holds so many memories of you and the love of your life, that would be hard for anyone.

You decide to order a pizza and watch a movie after your warm shower.

You slip into a pink nightgown that sat just above your knees before making your way towards the bathroom to brush your hair and teeth. Just as you were flipping the light switch off and walking out into the hall the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

They sure do deliver pizza fast

You thought to yourself as you counted the money in your purse that had been sitting on the entry table.

“Wow, I just placed my order ten minutes—” the words die on your tongue as you swing the door open. Standing there on the front porch in a Black Sabbath shirt, blue jeans and shorter hair than you were used to, was Eddie.

Your Eddie.

He looked almost as stunned to see you, as you were to see him.

“Hey, I thought you’d be back in New York by now.” Eddie assumed as his eyes took in the expanse of your body.

“No, I uh I decided to stay.” You utter as you nervously play with the hem of your pink gown.

Your action pulls the dress up higher on your leg, exposing more of your upper thigh.

Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the area before looking back up at you.

“I came by to give my condolences to your grandfather.” He says with a sad smile.

“Oh yeah, he won’t be back for a couple days.” You respond, finally dropping your gown before smoothing it out with nervous hands.

“Well, my condolences to you.” He says with a far off look in his eyes.

This man standing here is so different from the Eddie you once knew. His posture is immaculate, his arm and legs stiff as stone and the brightness of his eyes now dull and almost nonexistent.

“Do you wanna come in? I ordered pizza and I was gonna watch a film.” You say with a hint of desperation.

“I uh, I shouldn’t. I should go.” Eddie says before he begins to walk away, he stops in his tracks and shoots a glance back at you.

“Why didn’t you write to me?” Eddie’s face is so stoic you can’t tell if he’s sad or just curious.

“I wanted to, Eddie. I was just so busy—” you begin but Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore.

His black boots carry him back to his van. He can’t stand there and listen to how you’ve moved on, or had the time of your life in college and forgot about him.

2 days later

You had been beating yourself up for what felt like days.

He had every right to feel the way he did, to be mad and angry. You couldn’t blame him for that.

But you’d be damned if he didn’t at least know these feelings you’d been harboring for him.

You were both home now, nothing was holding you back from finally confessing to Eddie that he’s who you want.

You decide to bake a cherry pie, before getting ready and heading over to forest hills.

You would get on your knees and grovel if it meant Eddie would forgive you. Just because you didn’t write to him didn’t mean you didn’t think about him everyday. You couldn’t count how many nights you’d lay in bed touching yourself to thoughts of him, you hadn’t even gone all the way with Brendan, you couldn’t. Not with Eddie at the forefront of every thought you had.

You pull up to the familiar trailer, not much has changed aside from far less beer cans littering the ground.

You walk up the steps, pie in hand as you knock one, two, three times on the dingy white door.

“One sec.” A familiar voice calls out from the other side.

The door swings open, Eddie is standing there shirtless. The only article of clothing on his very toned and muscular body were his old Hawkins high gym shorts. You were pretty sure he’d never actually worn them in high school.

His face looks even more stunned than when he showed up on your doorstep a couple days ago.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was hard and impossible to read.

“Eddie, please just let me explain myself. Can I please come in and talk?” You held the pie out to him as if some kind of peace offering.

“Is it cherry?” He says with absolutely no emotion.

“It is.” You confirm

There’s a long pause before his voice gruffly retorts

“Fine.” He moves out of the doorway allowing you to walk through, your bodies barely rub together as you pass but shockwaves are sent throughout, you could feel them all the way down to your toes.

You set the pie down on the yellowing countertop.

Eddie digs in the cabinets for a knife, two plates and two forks.

The gesture makes you smile to yourself as you sit in the little two seater kitchenette.

Eddie cuts the pie, setting your plate in front of you, while he takes the seat closest to the telephone hanging on the wall.

“So go ahead…” Eddie says with a mouthful of your cherry pie.

“I’m so sorry Ed… I had almost no time for anything, New York is so fast paced and chaotic, I really had no time… but I thought about you constantly.” You admit as you lightly stab your pie with your fork.

“I thought about you, too.” Eddie whispers, your eyes find eachothers before he looks away, taking another bite of the pie. “This is really good, thank you.” He says with another mouthful.

Usually you would be disgusted by a man talking with his mouth full of food, but with Eddie you couldn’t help but find it endearing and cute.

“Yeah, it’s the least I could do.” You say before finally taking a bite of your own.

“So how have you been?” You were almost afraid to ask such a question, after everything he’s gone through, everything he’s had to see.

“I’ve been good, just getting back into the groove of being home, ya know.” He says with a smile that has yet to reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” You murmur before standing up and walking to the sink to wash your crumb filled dish.

Once it’s dried and put away and you’ve repeatedly gone over the spiel in your head about how you want to confess your undying love to the man seated a couple feet away, you turn around, eyes meeting him as you realize his chocolate browns have been on you this whole time.

“Eddie, I need to tell you something…”

He stands from his seat, bringing his plate to the sink, carelessly dropping it in before he turns back to face you.

It’s like he’d grown a whole foot, he was towering over you now, looking down at you with those doe eyes you’d so often thought about.

“What do you need to tell me?” He whispers as he steps closer to you, his black boots kissing your brown wooden clogs.

The words almost die in your throat at his close proximity and how fast your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if it could be heard from his place in front of you, surely if he stepped any closer it would be.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie.” Your eyes dart across his handsome face meanwhile biting at your lip out of nervousness as you wait for him to say something, anything.

He exhales a deep breath as his shoulders drop into a relaxed state.

“Fuck,” he huffs before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder.

You pull away, grabbing his face with your small hands. You look him in the eyes before you begin speaking—

“I’m so sorry Eddie, I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve known that you were it for me. It just took me a little longer, but I promise I’m here now.” Your foreheads meet as tears run down your cheek, “I’m here now.” You repeat.

“I love you so much, princess.” He whispers before he’s pulling you into a tender kiss, that soon grows more and more needy.

He slips his tongue into your mouth and they simultaneously glide together. You can taste the salt from the tears that have fallen onto both of your lips. It makes the kiss that more meaningful.

“You still celibate?” Eddie asks after breaking the kiss. His smirk tells you he’s joking, but you don’t care, you need him. You’ve waited too long for this.

“I didn’t have sex in college, not even once.” You admitted before kissing his lips again, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The longing look in Eddie’s eyes flash to something that could only be described as hunger.

Without another word, he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrap around his muscular hips. He’s so strong, the throbbing between your legs gets even worst at the thought of him fucking you just like this.

Eddie made his way down the hall to his old room, you took a glance around noticing most of his things in boxes meanwhile more of Wayne’s things have moved in.

“Are you moving?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah, I got my own place. I’m moving in tomorrow.” He says before softly throwing you on his mattress. “Wayne sorted it out for me while I was…away.” You notice the stiffening of his body immediately, as if even thinking about where he’d been causes such inner turmoil.

“C’mere baby.” You murmur with a saccharine grin, his eyes light up at the pet name, causing your insides to flutter.

He slots himself between your legs, his muscular arms now fisting the bed while your head lays caged between them.

You can feel the way his body slightly trembles.

“It’s okay Ed’s, it’s just me.” You whisper into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“Just you is a big deal to me, sweetheart.” He smiles before rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You say as you push his shorter hair back to get a better look at the face you've missed for far too long.

He groans before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“Fuck, I want to baby, I really do. But I-I have no idea what I’m doing and you’re you, ya know? I’m gonna make a fool out of myself, and I just can’t do that, not with you.” He lifts his head up to study your face before he begins gently rubbing his nose on your cheek, he places light kisses to the area before he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I don’t care, I want you… you don’t even have to do anything, I’ll do it all.” You say before placing kisses of your own across his face. “I need you, Eddie… I’m so wet for you, baby.”

“Jesus, you tryna kill me, woman?” He playfully snarks before blowing a raspberry into the side of your neck making you giggle and squirm away. “Okay yeah, I'm ready.” He admits as his beautiful doe eyes meet yours, he holds your chin between two fingers before sweetly kissing you, again. “I’m so glad it’s with you, sweet girl.” He whispers into your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper back

“I love you.” He feels like he’s in a dream, like one wrong move and you’ll slip through his finger, again.

“Lay on your back.” You bashfully demand, you weren’t used to being the one in charge when having sex, but for Eddie you’d do anything.

Eddie gives you a pointed look as his eyebrows raise high on his half concealed forehead.

Your feet hit the brown scratchy carpet before you’re turning around to give Eddie a little show.

Maybe stripping for him will give him a little more confidence, or it’ll probably just make him really horny… either way was fine with you.

Eddie continues gawking at you in wonder, still a little clueless as to what you were doing.

Such an innocent boy.

You begin to remove your blue jean button up vest, slowly unhooking each one by one.

Eddie catches on after the first button, a devious smirk slowly forms onto his face as he lays back with his head on the pillow. He dramatically swings his hands behind his head and crosses his legs as he enjoys the show.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, sweetheart.” He beams with a wink.

You finally get down to the fifth button before slowly opening it and exposing your bare breast to him.

His eyes widen with shock and his body stiffens along with the member in his gym shorts.

“Holy shit.” He whispers before sitting up to get a better view. “You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?” His cheeks burn with excitement and nervousness. He flicks his tongue out to wet his pink plump lips before beckoning you closer to him.

You step between his spread legs and look down as Eddie is now eye level with your tits.

He’s only seen boobs in magazines and movies but yours are by far the best. He had a feeling when he used to watch you in that red bikini when you both would hit the community pool during the scorching summers that they were nice. He remembers the way your nipples would poke through the fabric and the way they’d bounce when you’d run away from him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks as if you didn’t just beg him to fuck you.

“Of course.” You purr back.

Eddie quickly brings both hands to your tits gently massaging them before running a calloused thumb over the hardening bud. The action forces a moan from between your lips making Eddie’s eyes shoot up to yours. He wants to pull that noise from you as much as he can.

“That feel good?” He breathily asks as if he can’t believe you’re letting him touch you like this.

“Feels really good, ed.” you whimper before he’s grazing his other thumb across your peaked nipple making an even more erotic moan leave you.

Your body slightly jerks when you feel Eddie’s wet lips encapsulate your nipple, you look down to see he is already looking at you, looking at your reaction to the way he’s making you feel.

Your eyebrows furrow as you vigorously bite at your lip. The sight in front of you is a scene straight out of your wet dreams, the wet dreams that would play on an instant loop in your twin size bed in your muggy dorm room across from your god fearing roommate.

Eddie continues to lick and suck as his confidence grows, every thrash of his tongue sends a searing shock of electricity to your cunt.

You need him now.

“Lay back for me Eddie baby, let me finish the show.” You whisper as your nails softly scrape against his scalp making him groan with his mouth full, he pulls off with a pop leaving your nipples peaked and cold from the wetness.

“Yes ma’am.” He snickers before scooting back to lay in his previous position.

You completely remove the vest from your body, throwing it towards the end of the bed but it slips off and onto the floor.

You’ll worry about that later.

You begin making work at removing your matching blue jean bell bottoms, slowly inching them down your legs as teasingly as possible for the flustered man who lays just inches from you.

Once your jeans are around your ankles, you make hasty work at removing them before kicking them off somewhere to be dealt with later.

You stand there in your pink cotton panties as Eddie’s eyes travel along your body. He adjusts himself in his shorts before his eyes fall to your last garment of clothing and then back up to meet yours. You know exactly what he’s asking.

So you shove your thumbs in the cotton fabric and remove them albeit much faster than your jeans.

You stand upright before kicking your panties towards where your jeans haphazardly lay.

Once you’re fully exposed to Eddie he darts up on his elbows as his eyes take in every inch; from the patch of hair between your thighs to the soft skin of your legs to the way your hips curve. His aloof disposition is such a stark contrast to the way he’s losing his fucking mind on the inside; he’s on cloud nine, he’s thanking a god he doesn’t even believe in for allowing him to be here and alive for this moment, a moment he’s thought about way too often.

You slowly saunter up to the foot of the bed, ready to straddle Eddie’s lap before he’s placing his hand out to stop you. “There’s no fucking way I’m lasting more than thirty second if you’re on top.” He huffs with a self deprecating smile.

“That’s okay, we can go again later…you’ll eventually learn how to hold it, it’s really not a big deal plus this is about you anyway.” You smile reassuringly before he nods his head for you to continue.

The way you said ‘we can go again later’ alone almost made him cum, so he knows he doesn’t have a fighting chance in hell to last while you're bouncing all pretty on his cock.

Nevertheless, you straddle his waist, the hardness in his shorts already hitting your exposed clit so nicely, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuck, this is almost too much.” Eddie whispers before his hands shoot down to your waist as you give his lap an experimental drag of your core, along the soft cotton of his shorts.

“Are you sure about that?” You smirk before your hands fall to his painfully hard cock that is far too clothed for your liking.

You sit back on his thighs, dragging the material down his legs. He begins thrashing around trying to kick them off so desperately, you can’t help but to giggle.

“Oh is that funny?” He says in a stern voice that has you clenching around nothing. You definitely want to dive into that Eddie in the future.

Or right now.

“No, sir. I’m sorry.” You pout with a swift bat of your lashes.

Eddie’s jaw tightens at your words, he doesn’t know why that is turning him on so much but Jesus Christ, is it.

Finally, you look down to where Eddie’s cock lays against his lower stomach. He’s way bigger than you expected and so pretty, the prettiest one you’ve ever seen.

It twitches before your hand slowly moves in to grab it.

“Do you think you could last if I got a little taste of this perfect cock?” You whisper into Eddie’s ear, making the skin there tinge a reddish pink.

“I can barely last with your hand wrapped around me, baby.” He groans in pleasure.

“Okay, we’ll save that for later, too.” You wink, before you spit in the palm of your hand bringing the glob to Eddie’s cock as you stroke him, getting him nice and wet to easily slip inside of you.

“Oh my fuck-” Eddie grits before his eyes snap shut, the skin around them wrinkling as he tries to think of anything but your spit on his dick, as you rub him so expertly.

“I’m gonna put it in now, Ed…you ready?” You ask before he’s rapidly nodding his head, his eyes still held tightly shut.

You lift up, rubbing his wet tip against your already soaked pussy before it begins to breach your hole.

“Oooh fuck.” Eddie whimpers.

You begin to inch your way down slowly so as not to overwhelm him. You’re trying not to go too fast, too soon.

Eddie brings the back of his hand to his mouth and begins biting on the skin as a distraction to what’s going on in his lap. He still can’t look down, or it’ll all be over before it begins.

You finally sink all the way down to the hilt, which has Eddie whimpering and cursing below you.

You study his face and how in pain he looks.

“Hey, do you need me to stop?” His eyes shoot open at your question.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Eddie huffs as if he’s out of breath. “Please baby, please keep going…you just feel so fucking amazing and I’m trying here, I’m really fucking trying.” His eyes quickly shut, again.

“Ed’s, open your eyes for me…you’re doing so good, just look at me please?” You murmur as you move closer to his face, rubbing at his scalp like you know he likes.

“I can’t.” He whispers.

“Yes, you can.. just look at me, wanna see you when you cum.” That pulls a growl from the back of his throat.

His eyes slowly open as he takes in the sight of you stuffed full of his cock. You begin to move, slowly grinding before you’re bouncing your hips up and down on him. Your tits jiggle with every move and now it’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Your movements get even faster as you lean down to capture his lips with yours. It’s so sloppy and spit filled, making you clench around him. He gasps into the kiss before his hands are moving down to grab at the soft flesh of your ass.

He begins snapping his hips up to meet your movements, making him hit that spot so perfectly.

“Oh my god…right there.” You moan as your face falls in between his neck and jaw.

You begin to whimper as your unexpected orgasm washes over your body. Eddie doesn’t quite know what’s happening but he physically cannot hold on any longer.

“Oh shit, shit- I’m gonna cum.” His head falls back into his stain filled pillow, he bites his lip so hard he’s almost positive he’s breaking skin, before a groan so deep it almost scares him, leaves his mouth. He wonders if he should feel embarrassed but the proud look in your eyes tells him otherwise.

He didn’t even get a chance to ask you where he could cum, he just filled you up without even thinking. That thought made his dick twitch even though it was beginning to soften.

“You did so good, baby.” You coo before allowing him to slowly slide out of you.

Some of his cum falls out of you and onto his spent cock, making his cheeks redden in what you could only assume is embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I’m doing this new trial of this birth control pill that just came out. It's supposed to lessen cramps during that time of the month but it also helps to prevent pregnancy… so we should be good.” You say before giving him a peck on his bruised lips.

You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up before bringing a wet washcloth to clean Eddie, too.

His hips jerk when the rag touches him, making you giggle as he tries and fails to hide his bashful face from you.

You find it so cute how shy he’s being. You’ve never seen shy Eddie before, so this is a nice contrast.

He scoots over, making room for you to lay next to him, which you do after setting the cum filled rag on his night stand to be disposed of later.

“You’re fucking incredible, did you know that?” He asks before scooping you up in his arms and moving you closer to him. His arms wrap around your waist as his head burrows into your chest.

“Are you sure you're okay, Eddie?” You softly ask, not sure you want to breach the topic after you two have finally consummated your relationship.

“Of course I’m okay, why do you ask?” He looks up at you curiously, as if he’s surprised you’ve been able to read him so well. Although you always have been good at that.

“You just seem…different.” You whisper the last part before you feel him slightly tense.

“I’m-I just seen some shit, ya know? And it’s kind of hard to go back to your everyday life after witnessing some of the most horrific shit imaginable.” He can’t look you in your eyes when he speaks, he doesn’t want to see the pity that so often lies beneath the sympathy people have recently given him.

“I get that baby, I do…and I’m here, every step of the way, okay? Whatever you need, we'll do it.” You purr as your nails gently graze his back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper into his hair before you’re both falling into a post sex sleep haze.

October 1977

“Eddie, slow down.” You snort as your boyfriend eagerly speeds down Cherry lane, too excited to get to his mystery destination.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, studying his face for any clues.

“You’ll see, just have some patience, baby.” He knowingly smirks, amused by your uncertainty.

Soon enough, you're pulling up to a light yellow single story house. It’s quite cute, with pink trim on the windows and flower boxes that sit on each window seal.

The grass looks like it’s been very taken care of, it’s almost too green.

Eddie flies to your side, opening your door for you.

You hesitantly step out, your black flats crunching on the orange and brown leaf riddled sidewalk. You’re still wondering where the hell he’s taking you or to who?

“Do you like it?” He asks with a beaming smile as his hand runs through his freshly grown out mane.

“I mean yeah… it’s nice.” You scoff, “who lives here?” You study the house again before looking over to Eddie for an answer.

“We do, sweetheart.” He gleams as he dangles a set of keys in his right hand, a huge satisfied smile adorns his face at your shocked expression.

“This is ours?” You blink at him as if maybe you’ve misunderstood. “Like, you bought it?” Eddie’s face just gets more and more excited with every fleeting moment you stand there in shock.

“Yes, we bought it.” He laughs before throwing the keys towards you. “Go check it out, baby.” You quickly catch the keys and make your way inside, body moving on autopilot as you’re still in shock.

As you look around you notice it’s a charming 1960’s styled, three bedroom house.

You stand in the doorway of the smallest room.

‘It’s perfect’ you whisper to yourself.

“That’ll be the nursery for babygirl.” Eddie says, sauntering up behind you to rub at your growing belly. “Do you like it?” He asks with a proud smile.

“I love it Ed’s, you did so good.” You fervidly muse.

“Let’s check out the backyard, I have another surprise for you out there.” He says before intertwining his fingers with yours and walking you through the house to the beautiful twin doors that lead you to an even more beautiful backyard.

Your eyes take in everything as you stand on the deck, this place is almost too perfect. You’re ready to pinch yourself cause you’re so sure you’re dreaming.

You look around and see a vegetable garden, next to that are gorgeous flower bushes. Whoever lived here before really loved this place as it was treated with the utmost care.

Your eyes continue to scan the yard before it catches on something that causes your eyes to water and your breath to hitch, it’s a big oak tree identical to the one you and Eddie met under.

But that’s not all, Eddie is underneath it on one knee, with a red box in his hand. The tears fall as you walk closer. Yes, this has to be a dream, there is no way this is my life, it’s too perfect.

Once you’re standing in front of your weeping future husband, you realize the ring he’s holding was your gram’s, a beautiful vintage opal.

You remember holding her hand as a kid and playing with it. You’d tell her how much you wanted one just like it, so you could be twins. You sob into your hand at the memory.

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #divider by @v6que #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you

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ambrosiagoldfish · 7 months

Note

HI! Can I request Vox, husk or anyone else with a s/o who has an addiction problem?

Yes I know my Grammar and punctuation is out of line 🙏🏽

Hazbin Hotel x Addict!Reader

(Vox, Husk, and Angel Dust)

Viewer Discretion is Advised!

Warning: Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Gn!Reader, Reader being defensive, happy-ish endings.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1170

A/n: Hi! Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing both Vox and Husk so I had to do some research (and by research, I mean reading 2+ hours of how other write them) to get an idea of their main characterization.

I really enjoyed writing this as I personally have my own experiences with addicts and how it’s affected me as a person. So this was also a little bit of a vent post if anything. I also added Angel cause I think it fits the theme but also he’s one of my comfort characters and writing for him made me happy.

Hope you enjoy <3

Proofread like once so sorry for any mistakes!

Vox

He’s used to being friends/knowing addicts. I mean one of his closest allies (And TOTES not previous hook-up buddy) Valentino, is also an addict who also employs many as well. So he’s not a stranger to it.

So mostly he’s indifferent to it, almsot desensitized to it. He doesn’t really see a danger to it, I mean we’re in hell and you can’t exactly OD and die

But of course, death isn’t the only thing that can happen when you're an addict. The breakdown of you as a person often happens, as well as you being reckless with money. And this is where Vox starts to have a problem.

If you’re in a relationship with Vox, then clearly you mean a lot to him, he may not be the most expressive about it but he does. So to see the partner that he has opened up to and grown attached to deteriorate slowly in front of him is something he refuses to accept.

So one day he cancels a meeting with his staff and calls you to his office so you two will be alone. When you get there he gives you a cup of coffee and you catch up a bit. How was your day? Have you ate yet? Those kinds of things.

Until finally he decides to just break open the floodgates with one simple statement.

“Darling… I think you should get clean”

You were caught off guard at first

“It’s fine, What’s the problem? we’re in hell”

He then comes out with his honest opinion

“*Sigh* I know it’s hell and you can’t die… but surely you can see how it would make me a bit… worried for you.”

He paused

“I mean even last week you spent all the allowance I gave you on it and you would have starved if I didn’t buy you food, surely you can see why it’s a fucking problem!”

Eventually after talking and depending on how it goes you either agree to go clean or it ends with an argument and he’ll just try again later.

If you agree, he’ll make sure he’s with you ever step of your sobriety. Considering he’s one of the top rising Overlords and owns VoxTech he’s got money so He’ll higher the best people to help you go clean(Do therapist exist in hell?)

“Thank you dear, you have no idea how much this means to me”

Husk

Similar to Vox in a lot of ways but also really different. He himself is an addict with alcohol so he clearly understands the struggles of it.

He has lots of walls up but for someone who “lost the ability to love” he sure does care a lot for you. I don’t think he would try a get you to go clean, at least not right away (or even at the beginning of the relationship) simply cause he thinks he doesn’t have a right to judge. So in all honesty he might just let you be.

That is until he realizes that you do it to forget things and ignore your problems/past. He knew first hand that drowning your sorrows away with your choice of addictive vice did nothing but harm you.

Then when you two are alone at his bar he’ll talk to you about it in a similar way he did with Angel. Perhaps a bit more softer than he did with Angel but even then “softer” is a bit of an overstatement.

“Look, I know you got a lot of shit that you don’t want to think about… but doing this *sigh* it’s not going to work, at least not in the long term.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. I mean, you were right. He was single handedly the worst person to be judging you. But surely you can understand his point of view, right?

Either way though, he leaves it alone again. Occasionally bringing it up when you’re both alone. He expresses the same sentiment about it each time hoping that eventually, hopefully…you’ll come to see from his perspective.

When you do finally see that he’s worried for you and understand why, you agree to go clean. Which, for once in a long while, made his supposedly cold dead heart melt.

“Glad you finally came to your senses… Seriously, I’m glad…”

Angel

He is THE addict of the show, so obviously he knows what you are going through and THEN some. Now,. Here’s the thing, how he handles it depends HEAVILY on when exactly you got with him/when you started having you addiction problem.

If you started dating him when you already were an addict he most definitely wouldn’t question anything about it. Hell, chances are you both might have taken part in it together. And it’s only when he starts making progress in the hotel (post EP4) is when he starts realizing how bad of an influence you both were on each other.

If you started sometime AFTER you both started dating then this boy would honestly feel terrible about it, ESPECIALLY after EP4 when he actually started being sober more often. He’d feel like he was a bad influence on you and that it was his fault you turned to your addiction.

Either way though, he will eventually realize that he doesn’t want you to be/continue to be on the same path he was. He’d talk to Charlie about arranging you to stay in the hotel, either in your own room or you guys could share one (he would honestly prefer the latter) and then after the preparations are made he would finally ask you too

Angel wasn’t expecting it to be easy, he gets what it’s like to suddenly be asked to go clean. And he knows how addicts act when they don’t get there vices, how he acts. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst first before asking you to come over and talk.

“Uh… Y/n can I talk to you about somethin’?”

You nod your head

“I’ve been thinking and… I think you should crash here at the hotel with me… and’ go clean.”

You only laugh “Angie I’m glad this hotel thing is workin’ for ya but that’s not really my style. No- I mean, I’m fine!”

Angel knows he put you on the spot, so he lightens off a bit but continues pressing on. He explains how he feels and how he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, to end up where he is. The poor boy starts crying honestly with how much he’s worried. He rarely opens up to people so this was a big step for him.

Seeing how much he cared and worried about you really put into perspective how important this was to him. So you agreed after some thinking.

“*sniff* thank you Baby, I’ll be there with you every step of the way… I love ya’ you know.”

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orangeheliophile · 19 days

Text

"Dynamy and destruction."

Bakugou Katsuki x reader

What happens when a small little gremlin appears right on top of your boyfriend's head? And why does it look exactly like him? Will you love it? Will your boyfriend hate it?

Warnings: Cursing, Dynamy, and Bakugou, slightly suggestive?

Established relationships, crack, fluff, Bakugou is secretly a simp for reader, making Dynamy also a simp, reader is silly and a bit sassy.

Reader calls Katsuki 'Kacchan' sometimes, as they've been childhood friends. This can be read as a sequel to the "Peaches" fic I made.

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It's funny, really, how the little thing popped out of thin air and onto the top of Katsuki's head.

As much as everyone wanted to laugh at the small monster on top of Katsuki's head, they quickly shut up as he threatened to blast them all the way to hell. And the little Dynamy, as you liked to call it, agreed with the bigger Dynamight.

But it turns out, the only thing the gremlin can say is 'fuck,' 'bastard,' 'shit,' and 'asshole.' The interesting thing is, is that Dynamy can understand what's happening and languages, he can't just say any other words than those foul mouthed ones.

Currently, you're in your boyfriend's dorm room, helping to figure out this situation with the mini Dynamight.

Katsuki huffs in annoyance, side-eyeing Dynamy as it's sitting on top of the pile of books. The thing blinks, as Katsuki blinks back. You're laying on your stomach, reading a comic on the blondes bed as you watch the interaction between them.

The silence is a bit awkward, with Katsuki sitting on his chair with his arms crossed while staring at Dynamy in a judging manner. The small grenade scowls, eyes squinting at the bigger blonde as it bears its pointy teeth. "Fuck ya."

The both of you stare at it in disbelief, you snort, quickly covering your smile as Katsuki's eyes widen as his jaw drops. "The fuck did you say?!" He barks, offended by the little monster as he glares at it. Dynamy only blinks, having an angry resting face as it speaks again, "Fucking Bastard."

This time, you giggle, feeling surprised by the savage personality of the mini Katsuki as your boyfriend gives you a non hateful glare. The two start to argue, throwing cusses at each other as you smile and watch from your seat. You sway your feet, resting your cheeks on your palms as your elbows are propped against the mattress.

Katsuki scowls, throwing a middle finger towards Dynamy as a thin arm appears from the little thing and shoots a middle finger back. The blondes brows furrow in confusion. Is the little shit mocking him?!

"I'm gonna blast this piece of shit all the way to hell." Your boyfriend states, his tone nonchalant as he deadpans when Dynamy mutters out a 'fuck you' to him.

You snort, shaking your head as you smile at the interaction. Getting up from your spot, you make your way towards Katsuki, placing your hand comfortingly on his shoulder blade as you lean down and kiss his cheek. "Aw, don't be like that, Kacchan." You reply, cupping his cheek as you coo when he leans into your touch immediately. Katsuki closes his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist as he hums at the feeling of your fingers tracing circles on his shoulder blades and back.

You smile, turning your attention to Dynamy as you fawn over the small but explosive thing. He blinks, looking at you in confusion as it hops in place to get a better view of you. "Fuuuck?..." He trails off, not knowing what to do as you gasp at the rush of cuteness aggression flowing through you. It's like a mini version of your boyfriend! But cuter.

"You're so cute!" You smile happily, dropping Katsuki's face as his eyes widen when you let go. He stumbles slightly, trying to chase your warmth as he furrows his eyebrows when you crouch down in front of Dynamy. You gasp, smiling as you gently pick up the little living grenade and press quick kisses all over its tiny head.

Dynamy flinches, looking at you wide-eyed as he turns into a bright shade of pink. Katsuki's jaw drops, feeling a mixture of confusion, betrayal, annoyance, and maybe slight jealousy of how quick you were to abandon him. You giggle at the tiny thing, reaching your finger to rub the little spiky tuff of hair it has as you caress it soothingly. Dynamy jumps again but leans into your touch this time. Katsuki has no idea what to do.

Your boyfriend scoffs, having a forced smile as he glares at the small grenade. "Baby, what the fuck?!" He barks. You wave him off, paying him no no attention, which your boyfriend loathes. Dynamy curses happily this time, hopping on your hand as he wags the safety lever like a dog tail. And your heart melts. Completely. Katsuki, who?

"Fuck!" Dynamy curses, voice filled with joy as his tiny head leans into your touch, wanting more of your affection as you smile and press tiny pecks all over it. You're going insane. Katsuki is almost sure of this by now. There's no way you love that thing, over your awesome boyfriend and future husband-

"I love him so much!" You squeal. Katsuki feels like dying at this moment. You're giving and smiling at the little monster, giving him kisses and head scratches, and words of affection, and- Katsuki deadpans. Are you treating the little shit like a dog? But you always do the same things to him- Oh. So you've been treating your fucking boyfriend like some puppy this whole time.

Katsuki flops onto the floor, falling out of his chair asbhe lays face first onto the wooden tiles. Yeah, he wants to die now. But you ignore him. The betrayal.

Smiling, you hold Dynamy to your chest, wanting to take some pictures together as you walk over your boyfriend who groans and whines. You sigh, shaking your head as you gently kick him away to make room. Such a drama queen.

Your boyfriend grunts, rolling away as you walk past him. But the bastard grabs onto your calf and wraps his arms around your leg. Dynamy glances down at the blonde, having a judging look on his face as you stare down at your dramatic boyfriend. "Katsuki?" Nothing. "Katsuki." Nothing again. You sigh, slapping your forehead as you groan.

"My handsome and awesome boyfriend, who I love so much?" Your boyfriend grunts in response, curling into a ball as he clings onto your right leg. You deadpan, shaking your head as you give a small kiss to Dynamy's cheek while dragging your boyfriend across the floor. He does this to himself, honestly.

And why is he so heavy?!

You struggle, trying to shake Katsuki off, but he holds your leg tighter and clamps onto you like a koala. Dynamy curses at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend curses back. You're getting tired of this. So you do the next best thing... You grab a spray bottle and start to squirt him with cold water!

Your boyfriend hisses, flinching as he uses his arms as a shield to protect himself. You laugh in victory, kicking him off as you run out of his dorm room and go all the way back to yours!

Which is right across his dorm room.

But you're fast, so it works!

Immediately rushing inside your dorm, you lock the door, placing a chair over it as you hold Dynamy to your chest. You're safe from the feral pomeranian with rabies. For now.

You pant, looking around to see where you can hide as you smile, hiding inside the cabinets next to your desk. There's enough space for you and Dynamy to hide. But then you remember that Katsuki also knows where your dorm is.

Your breath hitches, hearing quiet footsteps approaching as you cover your mouth with your palm, also placing three fingers over Dynamy's mouth so he keeps quiet. Dynamy peaks at you, nuzzling into your hand as you fawn and smile at the adorable little grenade. But you're interrupted. By your jerk of a boyfriend.

"Baby, let me in!" You huff, your cheeks heating up as he uses the stupid nickname that makes your heart flutter every time. Nuh uh.

Katsuki starts knocking on your door, sighing in frustration as he realizes you probably locked it. How dare you. So he decides to knock aggressively, knowing you dislike the sound.

Your eye twitches, starting to regret how he knows everything about you and your likes and dislikes. The stalker. Dynamy turns to you, hopping out of your palm and onto your shoulder to comfort you. The action makes you smile. At least someone doesn't irritate you.

Unlike your boyfriend. Who keeps annoying you. The impulse to donate him is strong with you right now.

Maybe back to his mother? Nah. She offered to pay you to keep him when you met her for the first time. You like her, though!

Katsuki scowls, deciding to pick the lock of your dorm. He grins like a madman when he succeeds, bursting the door open as he knocks over the chair barricading your door. "Babe! I know your fucking in here!" You freeze, not uttering a sound as you place a hand over Dynamy's mouth again.

Your boyfriend steps quietly inside your dorm, looking around as he pokes his head in to where you could be hiding with the tiny demon. He checks under your bed, the bathroom, desk, couch, and even the space between your bed and the wall. You're a bit small and bendy. And he's seen you get stuck in a box before.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen in realization, flickering to the cabinets next to your desk. The blonde smirks, having finally found out your location as he knows he can't get you out of there without a fight. Katsuki sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes as he chuckles and plops down onto your bed. Your bed.

Your eyes narrow to the cabinet door, knowing that he just slipped under the extremely comfortable covers of your bed by the sound of ruffling and him grabbing your pillow. The bastard.

You frown, pouting in annoyance as you hold Dynamy close to you. "At least you don't annoy me, Dynamy." You whisper, bumping your nose against his head as the small grenade hops happily.

But your dramatic boyfriend ruins the moment again. He decides to open your mini fridge.

You gasp, jaw dropped as you hear him shuffling through the small refrigerator and cabinets. "Hey, princess! You don't mind if I eat your nachos, right?" You mind. You very much mind. And your stupid lover knows this.

Katsuki smirks, grabbing a soda as he pulls out your precious nachos out. He plops down onto your couch, placing the items on the coffee table and grabbing a few hot sauce packets. Oh, yeah. He's dead.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll make sure to put extra hot sauce for you." Katsuki snickers, opening the box of nachos as he's about to open the hot sauce packets. "I know how much you love spicy stuff, princess."

Oh, he thinks he's so funny. You scowl, glaring through the cabinet door. It's fine. You can just make more-

All rational thoughts fly out the window the moment he opens the can of soda. Your soda. Your favorite flavor of soda. How do you know this? Because the bastard says it himself.

"Peaches! Do you think I can have your soda? I'm sure you'll still love me." You don't. And that's the last straw.

The cabinet door slams open, making your boyfriend flinch in surprise as you tackle him to the couch. "DON'T YOU DARE!" You shout, pushing the coffee table away as you stradle Katsuki and start slamming pillows onto his face.

But the bastard laughs.

Katsuki cackles, wrapping his burly arms around your waist as he traps you to him. You squeal, realizing this was his plan all along as he presses big, sloppy, smooches all over your face and neck. It's worse because you're ticklish.

You laugh, trying to catch your breath while squirming in his grip. He already has his arm around your lower back, keeping his other arm on your waist to keep you in place. Then, he does the unthinkable. He slaps your bottom.

You yelp, cheeks flushing as your jaw drops in offense. He smirks at you, grabbing the thickness of your bottom as he squeezes it jokingly.

"Damn, you got some nice peaches, peach."

Oh, that cursed nickname. You groan, feeling embarrassed as you remember how you obtain the nickname. You slap his chest, hiding your face in his neck as you bite his shoulder in revenge. Katsuki laughs, rolling you both around on the couch as he squishes your body like a teddy bear.

Dynamy watches this from the coffee table, observing everything as he tilts his head in confusion. "P... peaches?" You both freeze, snapping your heads towards the tiny living grenade as you realize what he just said. Your jaw drops, feeling embarrassed as Katsuki grins wickedly.

Dynamy's eyes widen in pride, jumping up and down at the new word he is able to speak. "Peaches! Peaches!" He wiggles side to side, looking towards you as his safety lever wags like a dog tail. Katsuki laughs, watching your horrified expression as the tiny grenade rambles the word.

Your eye twitches, realization coming to you as there's going to be two living things that call you by the name, 'peaches.'

The blonde snickers, smirking at you while sitting up on the couch. "Looks like the little bastard learned one of your nicknames... peach." He teases. You groan, trying to pull away from him as he sits you on his lap and shoves his face into the side of yours, rubbing his nose against your squished cheek.

Dynamy jumps happily, cursing while muttering the fruit over and over again, making your boyfriend laugh a bit harder. Yeah, dying feels nice now.

Your boyfriend smiles cheekily, crossing his legs while having you trapped in between them and curled up against him. You deadpan, giving him the side eye as his finger pokes your cheek while he squishes his face against your other one. Dynamy hops from the coffee table onto Katsuki's knee, yelling your nickname as your boyfriend chuckles.

"I hate you."

"Aww, I love you more, peach." He replies, giving a big sloppy kiss to the corner of your lips as you squirm at the feeling. A whine escapes your lips, feeling his palm squish your face against his lips while his arm squeezes your waist. He's definitely getting cuteness aggression.

Your eyes glance down to Dynamy, as the little bomb seems happy that he learned a word that isn't a cursed one. Your eyes soften, a smile appearing on your face as a hand slowly reaches towards him as Dynamy reaches for your palm. Katsuki notices this, giving you the side eye as his face is pressed right against the side of yours. "Don't you dare." He whispers, making you shiver as you glance at him from the corner of your eye.

God, he's staring into your soul.

So you stare back, gulping as he leans forward, making his face press more against yours. Dynamy blinks, cursing in confusion as he bumps his head against your hand, waiting for your affection that hasn't come.

"You're invading my personal space."

"There is no personal space when you're with me."

You sigh deeply, shaking your head in regret as your gremlin of a boyfriend bites your cheek while pressing his nose against your philtrum. You squint at him, watching his every move as he keeps looking into your eyes with his cherry colored ones. He blinks. You blink back. He bites your cheek. You knock your head into his.

Katsuki groans, nuzzling his face against yours as he waits for you to apologize for giving him a headbutt. You don't. Instead, you place your hand in his fluffy spiky hair. Katsuki's eyes light up, thinking you're going to pet him, but instead, you pull him away by his hair. He gasps dramatically, arms gripping you tightly as his upper body is being pushed away.

You huff in satisfaction, turing your head away from him sassily as you place your knee against both of your chests as a barrier. Katsuki pouts angrily, shoving his face into your knee as you lean back on the couch to cuddle Dynamy.

Dynamy is happy. That makes you happy. You being happy makes Katsuki happy. He'll have to deal with it, and you both know it.

The mini bomb chirps happily, snuggling against your chest as you smile and peck his temple.

"Peaches!"

"I love you too, Dynamy."

"Damn, baby. Thought you loved me." Your dramatic boyfriend mutters, switching his position so his face is pressed against your thighs and tummy. Your hand plays with his thick, fluffy hair, letting Katsuki cling onto you like a baby.

"Shut up." You say, words rude, but the love in your eyes and smile says otherwise.

This sort of reminds me of Unicorse from the show "Bluey." But Katsuki is more like the insufferable puppet than Dynamy is.

#bakugou x reader #dynamight #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #mha #bhna #fanfic #sunshine reader #unicorse #bakugou fanfiction #kacchan bakugou #kacchan #mha fanfiction #x reader #bnha x reader #y/n

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multi-fandomsfreak · 11 days

Note

Hiya, i saw ur requests are open and that you write for sonic series, so i was wondering if you could write sonic boom!shadow x fem!hedgehog reader? You can make up the story, and what happens! But i have to ask if it can be fluff. I read a little to much angst today cant handle more😭

I looove shadow sm, all and any shadow😆

Thanks! Drink,eat , sleep, shower

-Monty 🦔

Boom!Shadow Fluff HC’s With Fem!Hedgehog Reader

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

I don’t know why but as soon as I saw this request was to have Shadow be in a hugging session with reader. Don’t know why but that was the first thought I had when I saw that you wanted fluff (by the way I kind of wrote this to at least be platonic but some views can be considered romantic in a way. You can view it as whatever). Plus that boy does deserve a hug, regardless of which Shadow it is. Also sorry if this is a bit shorter than my regular ones. Anyways, hope you like this. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: She/Her (Or At Least Fem Intended Since I Only Used She/Her Once)

Warning: ❌

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Shadow + Mentions Of The Other Sonic Crew

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Icon by punkmp4 on Pinterest + Banner by emiljjj on Pinterest

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- ‘God today has been overwhelming’ Shadow thought to himself, his face clearly showing annoyance. Honestly he wasn't sure how long he could deal with another presence. The only thing that was currently on his mind and the only reason he even bothered to put up with the others was seeing you. A while ago he found himself becoming fond of you in his own brooding way. Normally he wouldn’t consider himself getting close with anyone especially since he’s known for being a loner but as he manages to spot you more often due to you often hanging out with that stupid hedgehog sonic and his friends he couldn’t help but get drawn towards you. It’s like you had some sort of aura about you that made him drawn to you. So he decided to hang out with you much to your surprise at him wanting to be around you but you weren’t going to complain.

- You’re the only person he actually tolerates out of everyone he knows. To him Sonic is too annoying, Tails is alright in a way but still isn’t too fond of him, Knuckles isn’t that smart, Amy is also alright he just doesn’t hang out with her too much so he doesn’t have that much of a bond with her and he just finds Sticks batshit crazy. So with you it’s like he’s getting some fresh air after being stuck in a room for hours. He actually enjoys being around you, you won’t get him to outright admit it but in a way you can tell he does because he treats you way differently compared to the others which doesn’t go unnoticed by them.

- Some of them actually find it cute (Mostly Amy) and some of them like to tease Shadow about (Most probably either Sonic or Knuckles) but you don’t mind it. You actually find it cute in a way as well. Managing to break his standoffish persona. Undeniably he kind of has a soft spot for. Often he finds himself getting defensive when someone like Sonic teases him for his said soft spot. Like Sonic could be saying stuff like “You really like her don’t you Shadow” which causes Shadow to tell him to shut up.

- Everytime he has a shit day or just wants to decompress he finds himself thinking of you. He could just be in a grumpy mood then he just sighs to himself and thinks to himself ‘I’m going to see [Name]’. It’s like his brain just automatically thinks of going to you as soon as he experiences a single bad emotion. He knows that you won’t judge which admittedly makes him happy inside. Honestly after having others getting on his nerves he rather have someone who knows how to calm him down. Honestly, this dude has so much built in anger it’s unbelievable.

- Eventually, after enough walking he managed to arrive at your place and immediately felt some sort of weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He knocked on the door crossing his arms waiting for you to open the door. He then saw the door crack open and saw the familiar hedgehog he actually likes. “Oh hey Shadow!” You said, happy to see your buddy again “what are you doing here?” You asked before he answered “apologies for interrupting you but is it alright if I stay here for a bit?” He asked to which you happily let him in.

- As soon as you sat down you found him following you before plopping himself head down into your lap “had another one of those days huh?” You asked slightly chuckling before placing a hand on his head “you have no idea. I swear that damn hedgehog is out to purposely ruin my day.” He grumbled as he felt himself softening while having your hands running through his quills “oh come on he’s not that bad you know?” You could hear Shadow slightly snorting to himself before replying “you hang out with him, your used to his idiocy” you chuckled at his answer before continuing to play with his quills, occasionally seeing him nuzzle his head in your lap even letting out some noises indicating that he was enjoying the attention he was getting from you “your weird you know that Shadow?” You joked with him “no I’m not” he retorted back even starting to hug you loosely around your waist “yeah whatever you say” you smiled to yourself hearing Shadow scoffing to himself as the two of you enjoy each other's company. “thanks for being there for me [Name]” he quietly said but you could hear him very well “no problem Shadow”.

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struwberrii · 3 months

Text

haikyuu!! at an american high school ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

here are my silly headcanons on how i think the karasuno first years would act if they were american high school students teehee

pt.2 pt.3

ヽ(^◇^*)/

hinata

probably runs to lunch

one of those dorky try hards in gym

wears matching neon nike shorts and tops

literally cries if he ever gets in trouble in class

water bottle flips randomly (he never lands it)

his mom drops him off at school every morning

jumps to touch the top of every doorframe

everyone judges him and thinks hes weird but hes gen the sweetest guy if you ever talk to him

he has a phone he just cant bring it to school guys

offers to do stuff first when the teacher asks (like brings attendance to the office or asks other teachers for dry erase markers)

middle school humor (hes kinda funny sometimes tho lol)

kageyama

lets you copy his homework because he knows its all wrong (or gives you wrong answers on purpose)

wears hoodies everyday even during summer

scared to put lip balm on in public because someone once asked if he was gay because of how he applied it

friends with hinata but is kind of embarrassed of him

girls actually like him but dont talk to him because hes so quiet

probably talks to girls from different schools

plays roblox with the others when they have breaks during practice (he hasnt updated his avatar since 2016)

still reads strictly picture books

also a try hard in gym

still does streaks on snapchat

tsukishima

refuses to acknowledge hinata and kageyama outside of volleyball club (he thinks theyre embarrassing)

constantly gets in trouble for having airbuds in or being on his phone

tries putting girls onto his niche music taste then its just cigarettes after sex

if you arent one of his friends or a pretty person hes probably gonna be rlly mean to you im sorry

has hot topic pins on his bag (yamaguchi forces him to shop there with him and tsuki always ends up walking out with a new pin)

dresses very basic but still nice

bros a bully

tries to correct teachers and make the teacher look dumb

if he can tell he actually hurt your feelings he'll say it was just a joke and gaslight you

him and yamaguchi just talk shit all lunch and study period

walks to like mcdonalds for lunch sometimes

yamaguchi

bully on the DL

the only reason people know hes mean is because tsuki is his best friend

always has fruit for lunch

probably in band and plays literally the biggest instrument in the world

he always smells weirdly minty

has the silliest stickers on everything, his notebooks, laptop, headphones

bought sonny angels for him and tsuki

everyone thinks hes gay

him and yachi are art class buddies

brings his switch to school sometimes

rides his bike to school

lowkey stuck in his 2020 indie phase

yachi

has the cutest stationary

takes all her notes on her ipad and has that paper texture screen protector

ali express warrior

shes the sweetest girl in school

probably a closeted lebanese

already has her drivers permit (probably gonna be the first person in her grade with a license)

packs her own lunches everyday in bento boxes

has a private instagram account with like 20 followers and declines everyone she doesnt know personally

always has lotion, gum, perfume, medicine, chargers, everything. she is not taking any chaces

shes like if the 2019 soft girl pinterest aethetic became a person

reminds teachers about the homework

secretly watches youtube during class

she does NOT play about her art projects

her and yamaguchi trade stickers

probably still uses that 2019 kanken vsco bookbag

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

sorry guys half of this list is just me being an extreme hater and projecting

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some-insomniac-writes · 2 months

Text

♡ Picture Perfect ♡

A/N: COMMISSION FOR MY LOVELY SUNSHINE ANON!!!! Thank you so so so much for your support and patience my love, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!!

Content/warnings: Puppy! hybrid reader x Vendetta era! Leon, 2nd person (you/yours), fem AFAB reader, reader calls Leon daddy, very grump x sunshine, lots and lots of fluff, a moment of angst and realisation but it all gets resolved :3

Word count: 7700 est. (sweet jesus)

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Leon hadn’t gone to a shelter expecting anything. An act of service, he told himself. That’s what this was. Entertaining the idea of adoption. Like people who drop loose change into charity boxes, the ones by the cash register with scuffed edges, to feel better about themselves. Right now he feels like the scuffed one.

‘Go to the shelter,’ Chris said. ‘Hybrids make good companions,’ Chris said. He was vouching for his fellow soldiers at the BSAA, stick-up-the-butt men with trained military hounds. And judging by the posters hung on the windows outside the pet store, satisfaction was guaranteed. So he expected to enter a building of colourful lights, cheery music, and happy hybrids as far as the eye could see. Fluttering butterflies, sunshine and rainbows. Just like the commercials on tv.

What a heap of shit. A smelly one, too. Big, steamy, stinky load of it. Those flyers were all smoke and mirrors, and let’s just say this was one hell of a broken mirror. The place reeked of bad luck. At least the stalls were cleaner than his conscience. Should he have actually done his research for this, even if it was just for appearances? It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to go looking, right? No, right.

Leon had seen his fair share of hybrids in his time at the DSO. Missions where he took them out of labs, stopped genetic modification. Sick bastards they were, people prodding rabbits with all kinds of needles. Yeah, he enjoyed taking those types of operations down.

But he’d also seen the ones trotting around the office on occasion. Trained to sniff out B.O.W blood, or health herbs and antibiotics. And yeah, he was intrigued. Had watched the training rounds, memorised the starting commands, noted the stiff tail and hard gaze on every breed there. So he figured he may as well take a look at the less hard-ass offers.

God, what a mistake that was.

How had the mighty fallen so far? He’d planned to walk the dusty concrete floors with pride, to look down at the row upon row of hybrids only to decide no, he did not in fact, need a pet. A companion. A friend, a lover, whatever. No rabbits, no puppies, no kitties. He was too old for this shit. He’d seen it all before, lazing black cats and bouncy bunnies. Nothing stuck out to him, he’d tried. He could at least say he tried. From then on if anyone asked why his face would sink into a frown watching his coworkers bring in their happy-go-lucky hybrids, he had an open opportunity to rub a calloused palm over the salt-sweat skin of his neck and mutter that he tried.

That’s what mattered, right? Sure, that’s what mattered. He tried. He kept that thought in mind as workers tried introducing him to some of their more ‘respectable’ species, the fluffier cat girls and boxier dog boys. None of it was for him. All of this was a lost cause.

And then there you were.

Next thing he knew he had the thought of you living at his house stuck in the back of his head. Not just the back, though. No you’d left handprints - pawprints - over every fissure of his brain, burrowing into the ventricles. Now you were doing two little circles before settling into his cerebrum, digging at the surface to bury down nice and deep. Maybe bury a bone there. Extra comfy.

He’s stuck.

You’re a cutie. Pretty as a picture. A fine should be plastered across that sweet face for even existing, a paper bag over your head. It’s a crime for anything resembling you to exist, because otherwise Leon would’ve picked up every hybrid on the street. Those puppy-dog eyes pierced right through his soul like a bullet to the chest. And he left his kevlar vest at home, too. What a mistake.

A floppy eared thing, fluffed to the max, your tail tapping aimlessly behind you. Bored. Lonely. They kept the pup hybrids in separate kennels when the little kids weren’t here to meet them, so you were on your own. Eyes as big as saucers, he was sure they’d have popped out of your head by now like one of those squeeze toys, the ones you squish so they squeak something reedy and awful.

Glossy. You looked dejected, sad. Hopeful yet hopeless. In his mind he saw you bounding through long green grass in the dark night, nipping at fireflies between golden giggles. Watching you paw at the sky aimlessly, beckoning upon lightning bugs so you might try and ‘accidentally’ catch one in your mouth. You were made to be loved by someone.

It hurt. In a way you reminded him of his younger self. That cop, once bright eyed and bushy tailed, now decaying and withering into the husk of a human he was now. The one that burned down with the rest of whatever was left of Raccoon City.

And yeah, he wasn’t proud of this shelter specifically being his only pick of the bunch, there were hundreds he could’ve picked from. But this was a boot-out shelter, AKA they only hold onto hybrids for so long before kicking them to the curb. Just the thought of you, your fluffy self out on the streets..

He couldn’t let that happen to you.

And then those wet eyes fell on him and your tail swished quicker, your ears perking. Like a heartbeat picking up, a skipping pulse. You’re playing jump rope with the veins to his heart, his BPM’s music to those fuzzy ears. And that tail? Oh it’s swaying to the beat.

Something in your body seemed to click at the sight of him. It was an instinct, a switch flicking in your puppy brain. If he were in a movie this would be the part where time slows down and the camera focuses on his face and your own, panoramic view of the environment you both found yourselves in. Your face behind the bars, slowly shuffling your way towards him in curiosity.

That’s when he knew he had to take you home. Surely he was a better choice than the other scum that might get a hold of a soft thing like you. And you seemed sweet. So it was settled.

The paperwork was easy enough. Signing on dotted lines, signatures to his left and right. Handing over his credit card for the chance at ‘friendship’ or something like that. The only thing he truly recalled was leaving with you in the backseat, curled up against the car cushions.

Change. That’s what this would be.

You were well behaved. Quiet, too. At first anyway. Leon’s whole life had been thrown into disarray and all he had to do was give his credentials to some lady with a blurry nametag, confirm he wasn’t a psycho murderer or trying to Cruella DeVille you for your ears and tail. Which he absolutely didn’t have the time for, so no need to worry about that factor.

It only took a few hours for his house to be filled to the brim with new puppy gear. Collars and leashes of different colours (he couldn’t decide on those), squeaky toys and stuffed animals, comfy clothing, food and water bowls, and of course one of those playpens to lock up overnight. Leon wasn’t entirely educated on how to take care of you. Was he supposed to get you a room, a proper bed? How human was he supposed to treat you?

The overall adjustment period was fast, for you anyway. Sure, at first you’d gone all timid when he brought you home, staring up at this well-built, shaggy man in a leather jacket like he was about to lock you in your cage forever. Might be a poacher, your brain scrambled together, or one of those mill owners. Yeah, he looked the type. But as soon as you heard him whisper a “Well hey there, sweetheart,” in your direction in hopes of coaxing you out of the backseat you were set and smitten. And in case he was still hesitant, you gave him a pretty clear giveaway on how you felt. After he’d set up your cage in the living room, packed full of blankets and pillows atop your pet bed, and watched you practically dolphin dive into the sea of plush, it became clear you were truly just happy to have a home. You were happy to be with him.

Not like you spent many days in that puppy bed anyway, it only took a few days for you to come whimpering at Leon's feet in the night to climb under the blankets with him. And of course, he caved. How strong could you expect a man to be? Not to mention the stuffed toys you brought with you every time you hopped up, he’d become familiarised with all their names by the third week.

Sure, it’d been tough for Leon in some areas, but in some ways it was also easy. You brought solace where you went, and you knew better than to overstep boundaries. He found out quick enough that you didn’t entirely know what to address him as, ‘Leon’ felt strange for some gut reasons but ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ were too formal, so you immediately leapt to daddy. Which, of course, caught him horrendously off-guard. Almost sent him into cardiac arrest the first time you yipped it in his direction, a plaque of cholesterol, fat, and an unbelievable amount of cuteness clogging his arteries.

The worst part? After a few days he found himself enjoying it. Had his heart fluttering when you giggled it out as he ruffled your ears, rolling onto your back as he gave your belly an affectionate rub. Was he sick for liking it? Sure. He needed a doctor, stat. Symptoms included being extra ready to get home from work, planning his meals more thoroughly, and catching himself daydreaming more than usual. The diagnosis was a fluffy tailed sunshine puppy who trotted around behind him 24/7. A sweet shadow, a nosy thing. Prescribed treatment? Lots of cuddles, apparently. Cuddles, and plenty of daily shenanigans.

On one particular day he caught sight of you padding through the hallway slowly, looking up at all the photos he had hung upon the walls. Drinks with Claire and Chris on his birthday where he (begrudgingly) attended the surprise party they’d set up. Standing in the Whitehouse with some old man in a fancy suit. An old picture of just him sat atop the table below it all, his graduation photo from the police academy. He didn’t have the heart to throw it out. That was merely one of many old-news trinkets scattered around the house, objects that told a mixed story of Leon Kennedy. Well, now it was the house of Leon Kennedy and his puppy girl.

With a soft thud you sat your cute butt down on the floorboards to simply.. Stare. Examine, memorise, imagine what it was all like.

Maybe his hair was softer in this photo, shaggier in that. Darker features and rougher around the edges, as if someone had switched from watercolour to graphite, defining his jaw. More stubbled and strong now, with a broader frame. Like watching a tree trunk even out, sprouting tough branches, leaves coming to fall over his eyes in bangs. He needed a haircut soon.

However, in that moment of watching you, he knew he’d made the right decision. He saw it in the way the silhouette of your tail swished in interest, how your flopped ears perked up an inch whenever you focused on the finer details. Most of all he loved that signature puppy head-tilt. He got one of those whenever you didn’t understand what he was saying, be that garble about his work or the lulled out words from whatever book he read to you as you laid in his lap.

Yes, you laid in his lap now. And it was starting to feel so normal to him. The wagging tail in his peripheral vision, your eyes peeking up at his desk in his study. It all came so naturally, including the moments of chaos. One of which was the messy dance of getting you bathed, or dressed.

Baths. God, you stood your ground on baths. As soon as you heard the pipes squeal you took off like a rocket. Zoomed past the potted plants, darting through the backdoor if you could make it in time. Leon had to scoop you up mid-sprint as you wriggled and squeaked to get out of his hold, and shit did you run fast when you felt like it. Oh sure, you dragged your feet to snails-pace when you had to leave the park, but suddenly his puppy had the legs of a trackstar when it was bathtime. Once he actually had you in the warm water it was a whole other thing. You just couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Thank god for bath toys, or else you’d spend every second giving your flapping ears and soaked hair the signature wet dog shake. He turned his back? Shake. Reached for the shampoo? Shake. Went to turn the faucet on? Shake. He’d honestly rather you do that than try to jump out, and at least you got extra comfy with him when it came time to towel dry you. The last time he tried the hairdryer method you’d snapped and barked at the hot air like it was a personal affront, as if the loud hum was cursing you out in its own fan-whirring way. Then came the clothes.

On a good day he could wrangle you into a shirt of some kind (usually one of his own) and a pair of fluffy shorts with a hole in the back for your tail. On other days it was a tug-of-war fight over a v-neck because it’s obviously an invitation to play and growl between giggles and not Leon seriously begging a quiet “Baby- honey, no- Please, sweetheart, Chris is coming over and you can’t be butt naked, listen to daddy-”. Sometimes he really thought those floppy ears were just painted on. God, you were a little menace.

Luckily you were also adorable. Sure, a little dull, but so damn sweet. He couldn’t count how many times he’d pretend to throw a ball, watching you go sprinting out across the floorboards, slipping in your socks, in desperate search for it. Then it’s the head tilt, a routine trot around the coffee table, and sitting in the hall with a quiet whine. Vanished, poof, thin air. Gone. Not to worry, cause soon Leon calls out an ‘Oh look!’ and the ball has magically teleported back into his hand to your shock and awe. Pawing at his hand and begging him to explain how on earth he learned such witchcraft.

But there were a few things that threw him off guard about you, even after settling into this routine. For starters, your face. He didn’t mean that in a harmful way, he promises. Cross his heart and all that. But you were just so… gentle. Bright. Sometimes he found himself squinting at the sheer shine of you. Made him wonder if you came with batteries that just never got removed, corroded into place after years of chasing your own tail. Stuck on this constant sunshiney state with no way to power down.

And you were manufactured in some lab, a biological anomaly even he couldn’t wrap his head around. A person who wasn’t whole and yet was so much more than that. You contained multitudes, brought life and colour in ways those others may see a ‘normal’ never could. The pitch of your bark, your hatred - and he meant hatred - of squirrels, how fast you leapt at the opportunity for a ride in the car. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was proud to be the one to bring you home. That he was the one to trace the curves of your hand, to rub your ears, to hold you in his lap while watching late-night tv. This was good for him. This was good for both of you.

Day after day he found himself adoring you in a new way. A week ago he’d have dropped his head in his hands at the sight of you nosing his morning slippers towards his feet in the wee hours of the morning, now he can’t help but smile sleepily. Lopsided and scratchy from his beard. Because despite the energy threatening to burst from your body, you still took the time to sit and wait for him to get up.

He was a weak man now. A trained government agent was trailing behind his puppy girl in a pet store as you insisted on getting specifically that bunny with those ears cause it looked like the one that ran outside the living room window every day. And he listened to every ramble about said rabbit as you trotted to the cash register, plushie in mouth.

He’d fallen. Hard.

Time had passed in the blink of an eye before either of you could process it. Seasons blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, and soon enough Leon found himself with a cuddle buddy more often than he did an empty bed. The feeling of your nose nuzzled into his shirt, strings of happy whimpers and whines mumbled from your sleepy lips, it all became his white noise. You’d made very quick friends with the sprinklers out in the yard by the time summer had rolled around, jumping back and forth over the swinging water in an attempt to catch it in your mouth. All Leon had to do was sit on the porch and watch in adoration.

What you both seemed to adore much less was when Leon left for work. It had you pawing at the windows with screeching nails, teary eyed and howling when he got home extra late. He didn’t have the heart to lock you up when he left, something about it made his chest strain. His poor girl, stuck in her little blanket cave, wondering where her daddy went. Pawing aimlessly at the wired frame, chewing on the gate between whimpers. He couldn’t bear the thought. It ached, in fact. You were hurting his heart without even doing anything.

But the past four days had been a nightmare. His first long term assignment since adopting you. Sure, Claire and Chris had done their best to entertain you since you couldn’t just be left home alone, plenty of toys and games and walks, but it just wasn’t it. You’d pace in little circles, whining and crying and crying and whining. Hours spent drying your tears with cooing and shushing from the Redfield siblings only to burst the pipes and sob some more. It was no use. Until he came back.

And now he had. After so many days (a million, you’d told Claire) without him, he was home.

The sound of his motorcycle - that he’d retired from everything other than work for obvious reasons, vis-à-vis your sensitive ears - was a dead giveaway, and soon enough you had your cheeks squished up against the front window yapping away till your vocal cords strained. God, wasn’t that a sight. Face lifted into a glowing grin, ear perked up, tail a wagging mess. You looked like a whirlwind had been stuffed down into a body, and you were ready to tear through his home. An oh so dangerous fuzzy tornado on the hunt for endless snuggles and belly rubs to swallow up, up, up into your cyclone of love.

You were gorgeous. You were adorable. You were everything he didn’t know he needed. He’d hardly stepped foot in the house and you were already jumping up to try and kiss and lick at his face with a thousand puppy kisses, tail wagging so fast you might just take flight. Like one of those cartoon dogs from those 80’s shows, ones Leon still can’t name to this day. That was the other good thing about all of this, you made him laugh. Chuckling hoarsely as he pushed past the door only to be met with your arms wrapped around him excitedly.

“Daddy, you’re back! You’re home! I missed you!” Yip, yip, bark. You were melting his heart, almost running yourself into the wall at the sheer buzz of excitement thrumming through your body.

Oh, how he’d missed you, rubbing that tender spot between your ears with a kiss to your hair.

You’d made him soft. A side of him he never knew existed came out when he got you.

“I missed you too, pup.” He could only shake his head with a tired grin, dropping his bag at the door by the coat rack and shoe cubby. He’d had to buy one since you’d developed the habit of stealing his slippers to use as makeshift mittens. “Be careful where you’re walking there, honey.”

You were too busy babbling away about everything you’d done while he was gone to hear him properly, from playing a gazillion games of fetch to daily trips to the park. How that chipmunk had purposely ticked you off so you pawed at a tree trunk yapping at it for a good 5 minutes. And of course, how you’d almost managed to finally catch your tail. Looking up at him with so much pure puppy love with every step you took backwards through the hallway with a quickly wagging tail. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, you’d just missed him too much.

That tail of yours though, it was out of control. Swish, swish, wag, sway. Mind of its own. Too happy to have your daddy home to focus on anything else. Pure puppy love.

During your ramblings as Leon slowly worked at his shoelaces and zipper, all you could do was emphasise how happy you were that Chris had caved and let you visit the cafe downtown. Whilst mid explanation about what a ‘puppuccino’ was and how spectacular it tasted, the sudden smack of your fur against glass had you jumping in surprise. It seemed you’d collided with something in the midst of your excitement. The impact was followed by a loud crack, one that had Leon’s head pulling up to a swift stillness, no longer worried about getting his boots off.

“What was that?”

There’s a concoction of emotions in his voice. A cocktail of worry, concern, and an off sternness. He’s hardly ever been stern with you. The last time he had been, the sad look on your face had him faltering. Usually he was so comfortable with being stern, it flowed freely through his body like the familiar warmth of whiskey. It was something he was so used to. But he wasn’t used to those glossy eyes tearing up at him. He was just a man, after all. And you were his puppy.

That thought seemed to elude you both right now though, jolting to step away from the broken picture frame, looking down at the damage you’d done.

“Pup, are you-”

His academy graduation photo. You’d smacked it with your tail, and the frame had snapped.

All the colour drained from Leon’s face in one fell swoop. His calm, tired gaze ripped wide into one of shock, kicking his shoes into the shelves with a harsh thud.

“No- no no, no- shit!” His voice was a boom, it was loud and uncontrollable. Shaking the plaster of the walls with rolling thunder, his eyes zeroed in on the shattered glass, lightning crackling behind stormy blue eyes. Usually they looked so clear. Usually he was clear, his intentions and his love, how he was trying to and learning to get used to this life. And for a while he really was. “Goddamnit!”

And then this happened.

And it was scary. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it frightened you. A dead giveaway was how your ears flattened against your hair, once wagging tail now dead still and tucked between your legs. You’re cowering.

You were afraid.

But Leon didn’t notice. No, this was the end of a short fuse after a long week of work. A flame to the stick of dynamite Leon Scott Kennedy sometimes found himself to be. This was not what he wanted to come home to. He was too busy pulling at his hair in a nostalgic wave of guilt, of horror clawing up his back, staring at the mess.

The mess you’d made.

Cracked fingers pick at the shattered glass in hopes of salvaging what he could, the sharp edges slicing at the flesh that had grown tender with your touch.

You’d made him soft.

Had that been a mistake?

It must have been with the way he flinched back, cursing under his breath. Shards of the frame bit at his fingers as if in anger, snapping dogs of his past. Not like his pup, not like his sweet girl curled up in the corner, wondering if this meant he hated her.

That wasn’t the worst part.

Right across the top corner of the photo the paper had been scratched, ripped by a stray piece of glass. Slicing through the date he’d graduated. The day he thought everything was going to start getting better way back when. The sight had his whole body frozen in place. Bracing for something to happen, because something always happened to him. The feeling building from his belly to his chest, from his chest to his eyes. It was sickeningly familiar. It was a bullet to Leon’s shoulder. It was the click of a lighter to a cigarette. The screams from an Eastern European church. His bloodied fists against Arias’ face. The mole in his unit.

It was the gunshot that ripped through his family home.

That’s what really set him off.

“This was the one thing I had from it all, this was it! The one good thing!” Rambling like a mad man, someone you’d watch talk to himself on the sidewalk late into the night. “And it was in such- such good condition. It was perfect. It was all perfect before you- Damn it, pup, why couldn’t you-”

By the time he’d finally turned to you, his words screeched to a halt. Brakes squealing at the velocity of such a hit, a surprise, he could feel his heart overturn. Rolling haphazardly down the highway. He couldn’t stop it, because he caused it. He caused such an accident. So busy running on empty thanks to work that the dried out tank had crushed beneath his feet, crunching steel caving so easily. Weak. You were weak for him. He was just only seeing it now.

He’d hurt your feelings, whether he meant to or not. Over an accident, no less.

He was the reason your body was quaking in fits similar to that of a leaf atop frozen winds. Why your eyes were shot open, glossy and round, like the first cracks in the icy pond at your favourite park making way for water. And you looked like you’d plunged through the surface.

Maybe the most awful detail of all was the fact that Leon simply didn’t know what to say to make this better.

Licking over his chapped lips, the air in his lungs seemed to dissipate. He was left breathless, and not in the way he usually liked to be. Not like when he watched you pick at the dandelions in the backyard, or when you chased your tail in circles to the point of dizziness. Someone had trapped him in a vacuum of consequences, leaving him to face them. To face you, you and those big puppy-dog eyes threatening to flood with tears. “Look I didn’t- Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like-”

It wasn’t working. His words were getting caught in his throat, pulling a tense cough from his chest. As if the answer was teasingly scratching at his vocal chords and no amount of water could wash it away. He could feel his chest tighten, any trace of anger or frustration being flushed from his system. Now he could think clearly. He could see how heartbroken you were.

The biggest giveaway was how your body leaned in the direction of the living room without thinking, braced on your toes. An instinct dug deep beneath those layers of fuzz and the warmth of your hand in his own. Something to be left untouched, like a toy you’d buried in the backyard, under pile after pile of soil and past traumas.

Now Leon had dirt on his hands. The clouds in that stormy blue seemed to clear out, the moonlight streaming through the window like a lighthouse reflection. He was seeking you out, trying to let you know it was clear. That you were safe.

It just wasn’t enough.

“Hey.. Hey, no. Honey-

It was no use. He’d blinked and you were gone, left with the echo of your sock-clad footfalls against hardwood floors. Every step beating in unison with his pulse, his ears rang to the rhythm of your rushed breaths. Now you were the one pulling him along on a leash. Tugging at the weak retractable cords of his heartstrings, you’ve wrapped him around a tree once, twice, three times. His head was spinning, a splitting heat sizzling in his frontal lobe frying the edges of his mind until they curled.

Rubbing a hand over his face, smearing the guilt from cheek to cheek, up to his forehead. He was swimming in that grief. Mourning a time before this one, praying for a reset button. You had such a way of turning him inside out without knowing it, pulling his muscles and bone up from his anatomy to gnaw affectionately on his femur and nip at his biceps. He barely hid anything from you, he never felt the need to. Who were you going to tell? The mosquitos you stalked after with a batting tail in the cooler summer nights? Please. And half the time you didn’t really understand what was going on, anyway. So there was no harm in letting you lay your head in his lap while lounging on the couch, his voice a deep lullaby soothing you to sleep, aimlessly tapping your tail against the cushions. You were so pure. You didn’t mean any harm, you never did. Leon wasn’t sure you had one malicious bone in that cute body of yours.

How was he supposed to approach this, though? This had been the first major incident in your white-picket-fence-esque lifestyle. Did he go upstairs and change out of clothes dusted in gunpowder and shame? Try with a clean state so you had some time to yourself, some space? Is that what you wanted?

No. No, knowing your usually chipper clingy self that was probably the last thing you wanted. So he manned up, got his shit together. An unusual thing for him to say about himself, but he was in an unusual situation.

After shrugging his leather jacket off and leaving it to hang on the coat rack, he swore to leave his aggression with it. Tucked into the pockets and zipped tight, so he might save it for his next mission. There was no use in bringing shit like that into his home, where his girl was. So he’d let it gather like lint until the next time he washed it, then he’d let his conscience run through a spin cycle; in which he meant watching you do three little spins before settling into bed. You were better than any washing detergent, cleaned his slate better than disinfectant. They should sell your personality in stores, bottle your giggles for junkies to get hits off. You could be the next meth with how happy you made him, had him flying high as a kite.

And he’d made you so sad. He was your daddy, it was his job to keep you safe, not sad. Now he had to fix that.

Your playpen. It was a puppy’s dream to get the luxuries you did, most likely. Leon couldn’t help but spoil you with everything soft, plush and velvet. It matched you. And watching you lay in front of the window, squeaky toy mid squeal lodged between your jaws lazily, was worth all the money in the world to him. Everything you did drove him nuts, he was starting to realise why so many people suggested getting a hybrid. Leon hadn’t understood what the deal was until you arrived. And now? Oh, he needed a lobotomy at this rate, because all he could think of was you. Work? You. Driving? You. Hell, his breaktime at the office made him miss the way you’d yell ‘Are you doneeeeee?’ at him from down the hall, awaiting your allocated cuddle time. You had him chasing his own tail, and he didn’t even have one.

Draped in a paw-print blanket and stuffed full of toys, the sides of your food and water bowl lovingly chewed on. Always sinking those canines into whatever you could. Well, whatever you could that wasn’t out of the question. Shoes were a big no no, the sprinkler system too, Leon was sure to make that clear. Not like the water tasted any good from it, anyway.

With a quiet grunt (he really wasn’t getting any younger) he slowly kneeled down, denim brushing over varnished wood, peeking through the open gate of your pen. Despite having both feet on the ground - well, rather two knees - this still felt risky to him. Not like disarming a bomb, more like negotiating a hostage situation. Taking your hand in his own to lead you away from himself.

He kept his voice soft, quiet, as gentle as someone of Leon’s stature and nature could be. Like asking a wolf to hide its fangs, but he did his best.

“Hi there, darlin’.”

He always did his best with you.

Well, almost always.

No answer. Just the sound of your meek panting, sniffling between breaths. Tears making every inhale salty in your nose and on your tongue. You always preferred it sweeter. He hated being the reason your mouth felt off, watching you run your pink tongue along your cheeks as if trying to get the taste out. At least you were still awake. Amidst the darkness of your cage he could see you buried under a mountain of blankets, digging yourself in like a tick. Head burrowed in tight, he felt like even if he tried to gently coax you out by the body you’d keep shuffling along into the plush. He’d have to stop this from the root, twist and pop you out gently. So he tried that with words.

“You wanna come out of your little cave there?”

The brief whimper that passed your lips was enough of an answer for him, no words had to be spoken for him to catch on. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair enough. Daddy was a bit of a dick, huh?”

The slight movement under piles of pink and yellow told him your tail was wagging, and that made his heart hurt even more. It was bleeding through his shirt at this point, darlin’. Don’t do that to him, he’s too old to deal with this kind of pain. Might just kill him one of these days. Because even after he’d snapped at you, broken down the walls of trust you’d both spent months building, you were still reaching out to place a new brick down. To keep it all from crumbling. Leon rested his palms on the scuffed denim of his jeans. Sure, he’d done his schooling, graduated and all that, but now he found himself searching the corners of his mind for the right words. Like he was putting a puzzle together, trying to piece syllable to noun to verb until they clicked. But they didn’t exactly click. Then again, nothing ever did with Leon.

Except you.

“I didn’t.. Mean what I said. I just cut myself off at the worst time possible. I wasn’t thinking. Da-” he paused himself for a moment. Fuck, it’d become a bad habit. Was it still okay to call himself something like that in this kind of situation? “I’m not very good with words. M’ better with actions, y’know. Making things, helping people. I’m not exactly a wordsmith here, darlin’.”

There was a rustle. In the darkness of your pillows and blankets you found room to move. And he could tell it was closer to him from how the pile slouched in his direction, indicating the shifting of your body. You looked a bit like a molerat to be honest, an adorable one, or one of those prairie dogs, with the way your head makes an evident dent in the covers. He wouldn’t tell you that, though. Might take it the wrong way.

Out pops your fluffy ears, the silhouette of your tearful face. His stoic demeanour over the years shatters like that same photo frame, how the hallway’s dim lighting catches in your glossy eyes. It’s like looking at the moon in all her solemn sadness, amongst the stars, alone.

He can’t leave you like that.

“Hi, baby.” It’s a whisper. He’s too scared if he talks any louder you’ll huddle back up. He never wants to make you worried, or frightened, or anything really. He loves you just the way you are.

“Hi..”

Leon had no idea how much he’d missed that voice until he heard it for the first time after a long lonesome 20 minutes of silence. It’s an icepick to his frozen mind, chipping away those worries he had of you maybe never talking to him again. You were a sweet thing, but also sensitive. It was part of the reason he cared for you so deeply. You’d dug down under his skin, doggy-paddled through his blood stream and settled comfortably right on his heart.

“..Are you gonna, y’know,” Through the dark haze of shadows and soft rain against the windows, he could see you fiddling with your fingers. You’re nervous. Voice small and isolated, muffled through your soundproofing of comfy blankets and soft stuffies. It only made his head ache more. “Take me back?”

That one threw him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question, if anything he thought you’d ask if you were still in trouble. “Back? Back where?”

“..The shelter.”

He couldn’t see his own face, but he could just imagine how it twisted in confusion. “What? No, darlin’.”

“Oh..”

Yeah. Oh. So that’s what all of this had been about. It wasn’t just him yelling, it was the thought that you might get boxed up and shipped back. Kicked to the curb. Leon pictured it again, your shivering frame on the street, or back in that damp kennel surrounded by yelling dogs and strict meal times. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Cause I broke something, and I was too rowdy.. I can’t sit still..”

The very reason he’d adopted you in the first place was to save you from that life, one of struggle and pain and sadness, yet you still feared it. Solely for, what, acting like a puppy? The very thing you were a hybrid of? If he weren’t so worried about you he’d be pissed at the world in all honesty.

“Baby, is that how you ended up there? Did someone..” He had no time to finish that question before you were nodding. You looked so ashamed, it ripped him in two. Someone had shoved his heart through a paper shredder and used the strips to line a hybrid play-pen floor.

Returned, handed off, a hand-me-down. That’s what you saw yourself as. Damaged goods. His voice cracked as he muttered softly, his face painted in nothing but sympathy. “Oh, puppy..”

Almost instantly a ball of fluff came barrelling out of the playpen right into Leon’s chest, a winded ‘oof!’ puffed from the man’s ribs. Could’ve cracked them with the force of your love. Softer than any cannon ball, fuzzier than any bullet. Yet you still managed to have him coughing out a chuckle, his nose nuzzling up into your hair. He couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Because it was a sure sign that you didn’t hate him.

“There’s my girl.”

A meek whine bubbled up from your throat at the sheer joy of being back in your owner’s embrace, enveloped in his comforting smell. And Leon couldn’t resist resting his chin on your head as you sat crumpled in his lap. A scarred-over hand brushing through your hair, rubbing bruised thumbs over the soft velvet of your ears. Every touch, every loving gesture had your tail whipping against the floorboards. You truly were his good girl. Still sniffling, you tilted your head in that sweet puppy way to look at him properly, taking in the face of the man who you loved more than anything; yes, that included treats, walks, and toys. It was quite the accomplishment, an honour really. Leon should be proud of himself for that one.

“M’ sorry..”

There it was again, always saying sorry for things you didn’t mean to cause. Sometimes things you didn't even do. He shook his head at even the thought of that. Not scolding, but shushing. Like he didn’t want to hear you apologise for something that was hardly your fault. “Sweetheart, hey. It’s alright. I can always get a new picture frame, it’s no problem. What I can’t get is a new puppy. Wanna know why?”

Of course you did, that was a silly question. But he loved watching your ears flop as you nodded, made his pulse flutter like he had a butterfly in his veins, or a hummingbird. Humming away to the steady thrum picking up in pace. “Cause there’s only one you. And frankly, I’ve already called dibs, so I’m not givin’ you up for anything.”

That seemed to settle something in you, the pace of your tail picking up to its regular happy thump. Large hands encased either side of your head to brush over your fluffy ears, the velvety texture smooth under years of scarred tissue. And that fresh cut he had yet to bandage up. That could be done later, though. Right now he was more focused on plastering a hello-kitty bandaid over your heart. Leon was bad at this stuff, real bad. If there was a class for hybrid owner’s he’d have been expelled in seconds, set a new world record. Because even after having you with him for months he had to admit, he still had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to make that clear, no point in lying to you.

Gravelly voice turned smooth and soft, someone had put his whiskey rocks through a blender. He was a slushy now because of you. A messy, overpriced, alcoholic slushy.

“But I wanna try my hardest to make you feel loved here. Because believe me, you are. You and all your.. Energy, let’s say. You’re my fluff ball, aren’t ya?”

He doesn’t need words, words aren’t a strong suit for either of you. So he settled for the affectionate lick to the cheek you gave him, followed by your high pitched whine when you snuggled down into his lap with wiggling hips. Makes a huff of laughter rumble from his chest, not like the thunderous yelling you once heard. This was that of a car’s slow movement, of white noise to sleep.

Because at the end of the day you were each other’s peace.

Lips press to your hair in a gentle manner, and Leon found himself nuzzling his nose down against your own.

“Yeah you are. You’re daddy’s best girl.”

It’s a balm for the wounds on your soul, settling into his arms like you were made for them. Manufactured with his name printed across your heart where no-one could see it, you’d just had to find him. And now you had, and he had no intention of letting you go. If he could, he’d velcro you to his body.

Yeah, Leon swore he’d never let you go.

And he might be a bastard at times, but he made good on his promises.

The next week you were walking past the hall of photos, the one Leon commissioned of you and him out in the backyard was already hung. The outtakes of you sprinting off to chase a squirrel mid-shutter are his to keep tucked in his wallet, though. For the longer work days or boring lines at the DMV, all that shit.

But the formal one, the proper one, is right above the new frame you insisted on decorating for his graduation photo. Complete with smiley stickers and paint and hearts he’d carefully exacto-knifed around to give a clear view of his picture. You’d jumped around like a bouncy ball when he was cutting the excess sticky paper away, little yaps of ‘Is it done?! Is it finished?! Can I see it?!’ like you hadn’t been the one to seal it in glitter glue in the first place.

And honestly, he loved it. Like you were leaving your pawprints on his past, making a new path of swaying tails and giggling fits to lead him with a tugging leash into his brighter future. Like you were meeting an older version of him. One before he became a little more bruised, a little more cold. But you’d helped chip that down with your tugging paws and cute canines.

He was softer now. And he’d decided yes, that was a good thing. Meant he was more suited for you, more tender with you.

“C’mon, babygirl. Wanna go for a walk?” He already knows the answer. But watching you skitter on your feet to sprint towards him never gets old. Wagging tail and voice chirping.

“Can we get a pup cup on the way back? Please?”

Because if that freshly appointed rookie cop version of Leon could meet you, he’d be just as in love with you as he is right now.

“Aw I’m not made of stone now, am I sweetheart?”

And he’d agree, that new frame looks much better.

Consider buying me boba!

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unhelpfulfemme · 1 year

Text

Another thing I liked is how Laurent's trauma is handled, because usually when a character has a Secretly Traumatic Backstory there's some kind of annoyingly maudlin scene about it. Either they get into some kind of big conflict with the love interest and are forced to explain themselves so they don't get judged or dumped, or the love interest intrudes on a vulnerable moment and sees them being abused or somehow handling the consequences of that abuse, or they are explained the circumstances by a benevolent third party, and this changes their view of the abused character because now they're god's poorest meow meow and I just fucking hate it every time.

Like, this is why I stopped reading this type of story: because the amount of crowding and backing into a corner and privacy violation that happens to abused characters in order to coax them into opening up about it and reassure them that they're okay is so annoying. I feel like I've been psychologyposting on main too much lately, so I might explain later why I feel this way or I might not but in any case I hate it.

I love that this book is the literal opposite of that, that Damen not only doesn't crowd Laurent and insist that he open up, but that Damen ensuring space and privacy and time to calm down for Laurent when he's overwhelmed is repeatedly portrayed as an act of friendship and caring and love (that Laurent later reciprocates, because they both lose their heads when something pushes their buttons and understand this about each other).

I also love how Damen doesn't fall in love with Laurent because Laurent is sad and fucked up, or because he's so brave to have put up with the abuse, or because Damen too is sad like Laurent (I'm physically restraining myself from going off on a rant about how shared trauma is hardly ever a good foundation for a relationship): no, he falls in love with Laurent because he's whip-smart, and a good leader, and funny, and tender once he opens up, and a lateral thinker, and a man of integrity who keeps his promises and pays back his debts (and because he's pretty and blonde and good at sporty shit that Damen likes). Some of these things may have been shaped by the awful shit that happened to Laurent, as they were also probably shaped by his station or his education or his body type or any other circumstance of his life, but it's refreshing to have a character who went through awful shit but who also has other things going on for him that make him loveable instead of being completely defined by his trauma. And even when Damen finds out, the way he thinks about Laurent literally doesn't change at all - the things he likes about Laurent are still seen in the same light as always, Laurent's personality as a whole is still the same, even his attitude towards what Laurent did to him when they first met doesn't change much (as we see in the short story epilogue). And even this last bit is really cool because Laurent is never stripped of his agency or made out into some sort of helpless victim currently, both of which would probably mortify him with how much he's trying to establish that he's not at any opportunity.

And I also like how it's not necessary for Laurent to tell Damen about it in order for them to be close, nor does Damen push him into it. And everyone else seems to agree that it's Laurent's story to tell when and how he wants it told, except for the villain of the piece, who reveals it in the most awful way possible. This is particularly important because Damen spends three books grabbing everyone in Laurent's life by the shoulders and shaking them and going, "Why do you care about this guy??? Have you noticed that he's kind of an ashole?? Why are you loyal to him?? Why???" and no one ever says anything, because they're protective of Laurent and don't want to take away his agency or privacy because it's his fucking story to tell. Even after Damen finds out, we don't see him mention it and he probably lets Laurent open up or not on his own terms, as he does with everything else that doesn't directly concern him. Even though we've seen through Laurent's dialogue time and time again that he's probably conceptualizing it in some fucked up ways in his own head and needs yet to realize that he's not some kind of twisted pervert for what happened to him, crowding him about it before he's ready won't accomplish much.

And the story itself backs all this by never being maudlin about it even though it's obvious what happened pretty early on (I figured it out really early, I remember suspecting it almost immediately and being dead sure of it by the Ancel scene in the garden); it kind of elipses around it, gives hints and parallels to other characters in similar circumstances, has Laurent say incoherent shit that makes sense in context, has other characters hint at it, but with Laurent being one of the central characters it's cool that the story gives him that respect and doesn't wallow in the tragedy of it all.

#captive prince #I'm gonna be honest I've only read one other story where this kind of well-meaning breaking of boundaries was explicitly portrayed as bad #and it was a darth maul-centric fic of all things #special mention for my most beloathed cordelia vorkosigan pop psychology philosophy of talking at people until they #understand why they're wrong to feel bad about something #which drove me up the wall even though I liked those books

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marlenesluv · 11 months

Text

۵pairing: fem!albonsibling!ballerina x platonic f1 grid. also, reader x lando norris

۵type: social media au and dialogue

۵authors note: i really love making these, so i’m excited to work on a part 3! also, i know alex has other siblings, i’m just not including them in these posts!

۵warnings: cussing, talk of blood (someone cut their finger, not bad or described much), talk of ballet darks: not eating as much, rude teachers, mean comments.

۵summary: after y/n albon lost her ballet partner, lando comes over to comfort her. but she of course still has a lot of practice before swan lake in two months.

۵this is part 3! please read part 1 and part 2 before this. (part 1 is mine, j on my main blog)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were devastated to lose your partner, Ben, but all good things must come to an end, apparently. That’s what Lily had told you, at least.

Ben was an amazing dancer, he was, but your ballet instructor has wanted you to do solos for years now. Saying you had “too much potential to waste” and “you’re too talented to be focusing on another person when the show is about you.” Of course this was very nice, but Ben wasn’t only your ballet partner, but a friend.

The two of you went to the movies together, got coffee before practice, dinner after, it was nice. And you were happy that he had found a girl for him. You just didn’t expect for her to make him quit ballet.

That’s right, not a sport he had outgrown or gotten bored of. No no. Destiny was not a fan of the fact that he spent all of his time in the studio. Understandable, but dating a ballet dancer, that is a given. It was a shame that Ben had thrown all of his hard work away for a girl.

But here you were, unlocking your apartment door as Lando Norris walked in with a bag of Indian food and an extra hoodie on his shoulder.

“Hey! I got you some butter chicken and some paneer naan for us to share. Oh, and…” he pulled out two bottles of mango juice and handed them to you as you placed them on your island. “If I remembered correctly, you like mango juice?”

“Mhmm. Thank you, Lando.” you smiled up at him as he blushed a bit, clearing his throat as he sorted through the bag and you got out silverware.

“Wanna watch a show?” you asked, as you sat down beside him on your sofa, opening your juice.

“Yeah. How about ‘Brooklyn 99’?”

You nodded, opening Peacock and starting an episode as you both started eating and talking.

Talking with Lando was easy. When you ranted about how your ballet instructor stretched your arm too far backwards, he listened, only butting in to make sure you knew he was paying attention.

And when he ranted about how Checo pushed him off the track, and didn’t get penalized, you listened, you only butted in to gasp and ask the occasional question about how something worked.

You didn’t feel like he was judging you, and it was nice. Lando felt the same. You were someone that understood Formula 1 to a certain degree, since Alex talked about it, but you still asked questions, not just discounting what he was saying. Sure, Oscar wouldn’t mind listening to him blab on about shit, but Oscar wasn’t you.

And yes, you could talk to Lily, Kika, Kelly, Laila, or Carmen, but they weren’t Lando.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and 872,024 others

y/n.albon: i am so good at chess ♟️

view comments…

user3: lando and y/n??

alex_albon: you guys are hanging out alone now??

↳ y/n.albon: i guess, yeah

↳ alex_albon: wtf!?

↳ alex_albon: y/n answer my texts what are you doing????

user5: y/n just not answering alex LMAOO

user8: i live for this duo, they are so precious to me

lilymhe: the shoesss🥹

↳ y/n.albon: ikkk🥹🩷

user7: new ship, guys. ballerina and f1 driver 🫠

user2: she’s slaying without ben, fr

kellypiquet: adorable!

*liked by creator*

user4: okay. can they date?? orrrr

↳ user9: literallyyyy

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

landosinstagram

liked by y/n.albon, oscarpiastri, and 602,140 others

landonorris: 📷🩰💇‍♂️

view comments…

user1: BRO?

y/n.albon: gotta get those stretches in👯‍♀️

↳ landonorris: oh yeah🩰🙆‍♂️

user7: anyone notice how much y/n and lando have been hanging out….?

↳ user4: mhmmm. i ship

↳ user7: SAME

alex_albon: ahem, what is the second picture?

↳ y/n.user: me….alex, you’re my brother and you don’t know what i look like? shame shame

↳ alex_albon: that’s not what i meant, y/n

↳ alex_albon: why tf are you guys both on instagram and not messaging me back??

↳ alex_albon: fine. i’ll j come over, y/n

↳ y/n.albon: i’m taking my key back.

user9: little sibling fights in landos comments 😭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Alex Albon always kept his word. So, naturally, at 8:30pm on a Thursday night, Alex unlocked his sisters apartment door with his spare key. So what if Y/N said to only use it “for emergencies” and “if i had fallen and could not get up” which she thought was hilarious, whilst he just clenched hi jaw at the thought of her falling and hurting herself.

He was definitely on the protective side, but for good reasons. All of her past boyfriends, there were two, had cheated on her. Yeah, he didn’t love how close his sister was to Lando Norris, but at least he liked Lando. Not enough to be okay with their hanging out though. But Alex trusted Lando enough to not freak out too much.

When Alex walked into his sisters apartment, he couldn’t find her anywhere. The kitchen was spotless. Marble countertops cleaned off, fridge stocked up, floor vacuumed. He should have known that was the case before he walked in.

Every Wednesday and Sunday, Y/N cleaned her apartment. It was something she had control over. She didn’t have control over what she ate, her ballet instructor did. She didn’t have control over her spare time, it was spent at the studio. Alex felt bad sometimes, she had dedicated her life since she was five to ballet.

Sure, Alex had dedicated his life to Formula 1 as well, but he knew ballet was more draining. He’d seen the breakdowns first hand. Y/N coming to his house after practice and crying in his arms because she didn’t get a part. Or when she had called Alex ten times and then Lily because she needed new ballet shoes and her instructor wanted them now.

And he would never forget the times that her instructor would tell her to not eat as much, and that she needed to slim down. She would come over for dinner with him and Lily, and drink her water and maybe some vegetables.

It always made Lily mad. She hated how Y/N was treated, they both did. They also both knew how much ballet meant to Y/N, so they never told her to quit.

“Alex?” Alex whipped his head around to see his sister in her ballet leggings, a sweater, and boots.

Y/N sat her ballet bag on the barstool and emptied her water bottle out as she looked at Alex. “Dude? What are you doing in my house?”

“Oh, u-um. I was checking on you. Forgot you had to go in today. Sorry.” He blinked, looking at her tight bun on her head. “Hey, shouldn’t you take that out before your head pops off?”

“So funny, ha-ha.” Y/N mocked, getting out some fruit. “Did you need something? Or did you wanna stay?”

“Sorry, right. Lily wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Just Lily?” Y/N raised a brow as she plopped a strawberry into her mouth and chewed.

“No, dumbass. I want you to, too. Bring someone ever too, if you want.” Alex shrugged, accepting the strawberry his sister offered him.

“Mmk. Like who?….Lando?”

“I don’t care. If you want to.” he chewed the berry as she grabbed two waters from her fridge and handed one to Alex.

“Alright. Thanks. That it?” she asked, sighing.

Alex knew she wasn’t trying to be rude. She wanted to be alone, he understood. She had been at the studio since 8:00am, she was tired and wanted to sleep.

“Nope, that’s it. See you tomorrow?” Alex walked to the door, Y/N behind him.

“Yup. Love you, Alex. I’ll see ya.”

“Love you too. See ya tomorrow.” Alex shut the door behind him and walked to the elevator, pushing his thoughts away that maybe his sister was dating Lando.

He shook his head and sent a text to Lily to let him know that he was on his way home. Tomorrow night would be interesting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

F1 Updates @f1updatepage • 2hr

Our beloved Y/N Albon has been spotted on a boat with Lando Norris. The photo below was taken last week:

↳ Y/N my Icon! @y/n4lifeeee • 1hr

WHAT- i knew they were hanging out, butttt why am i shipping them so hard rn????

↳ Piasstri🍑 @oscandlan • 1hr

idk if i want to be y/n or if i want to be with y/n

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 875,024 others

y/n.albon: pinky 🌸🩰🎀👛

view comments…

user9: SLAY PINK QUEEN

user4: fits always eat

lailahasanovic: cutieeeee

↳ y/n.albon: awe laila🩷

user6: no lando pics?? :(

↳ user2: im sure we will soon lol

danielricciardo: shes working💅🩰

↳ y/n.albon: yuh

f1wags: y/n’s life is sooo aesthetic fr

y/nballetstudio: our favvvv

*liked by creator*

user3: my literal inspo, ugh

landonorris: coffee coffee coffee

↳ y/n.user: thx for the coffee coffee coffee

↳ user1: hold up. he made her that coffee??????

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were nervous for dinner with Lily and Alex on Friday night. Actually, the dinner that was currently 3 hours away.

And yes, you invited Lando. So what? You weren’t even sure if you guys were just friends, or maybe he wanted something more….

It was confusing. One day, you guys are hanging out, cuddling on your couch while talking, and the next, he doesn’t even text you.

But he happily accepted the invite. Which is why Lando was sitting on your bed, watching you apply your lipgloss at your mirror. The shiny gloss catching his eye as you smiled and asked him a question.

“Lando? You there?” you waved your hand, smiling and laughing a bit.

“What? Oh, mhmm. Yeah. I heard you.” he shook his head, hoping you would repeat what you had said.

“You do think that we should get sushi next week for lunch?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side and smirking.

“Y/N, no. Don’t joke like that. You don’t even like sushi!” Lando whined, making you laugh.

“I know, sorry. I asked if I looked okay?” you smoothed your black skirt down, pulling the sleeves of the white shirt down a bit.

Lando swallowed, clearing his throat. What was he supposed to say? You truly always looked breathtaking to him. He couldn’t say that though. “Yeah, you look great.” Lando smiled and got up from your bed.

“Ok, thanks. Let’s go?” you shook off the weird feeling you had, grabbing your purse and snapping a mirror picture while Lando got his phone off the charger.

………

Once you guys got to Alex and Lilys, everything went smoothly. Alex and Lando chatted about the cars while they prepared the salad, and you and Lily talked about her latest golf outing and your rehearsals.

That’s how it always went. Except usually Alex would rant about the cars to you and Lily at dinner. Occasionally getting a breadstick thrown at him because you found his complaining aggravating.

“I know! And get this, my engineer said-“ Alex was ranting as Lando kept glancing your way. The was you doubled over when Lily said something, or the way you bit your lip as you concentrated on the pasta. He shook his head and listened to Alex talk about his balance in the car.

“Y/N. You need to seriously open your eyes.” Lily said, looking at you with a hand on her hip.

“They are! The pasta is fine- what…why are you mom stancing me right now?” you questioned, lips parted and brows furrowed.

“Do you not see the way Lando looks at you? He’s going to chop off a finger if he keeps glancing over here and not at his carrots.” Lily sighed, and right on cue….

“Ow! Fuck!” Lando cursed, hissing in pain, holding his finger.

“Lando! What the fuck? You’re getting blood all over the cutting board.” Alex complained, earning a cup thrown at his head from you as you ran over to Lando.

“What did you do?!” you asked, running his finger under cold water. It wasn’t a deep cut, but he grazed his finger with the blade.

“Um…I don’t know. Just thinking about the cars, I guess.” he shrugged, thanking you for getting the bandaids from the drawer behind him and helping him wrap it.

“Alex, you’re so rude! When a guest cuts their finger, you help! Not complain about your $15 cutting board.” Lily scolded Alex, shaking her head.

Alex scoffed, “Lily, he’s fine.” The couple set the table as you guys took your seats. You and Lando on one side, and Lily and Alex across from you.

“Sorry for not helping, Lando.” Alex said, side eyeing Lily.

You giggled a bit as Lando started laughing, “mhm, it’s okay.”

Dinner went well, conversations flowed well and it was nice to talk to the people you enjoyed being around. Now id only you could figure your feelings for Lando out…

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

yourinstagram story

seen by: landonorris, alex_albon, and 678,023 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

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normansnt · 7 months

Text

For old times sake (pt.2)

(Huskerdust x platonic! Male!overlord reader)

I'm really happy with how this turned out. Non of y'all asked for it the idea just hit me so I had to write it down😎

ALSO

I'm VERY likely going to write a pt.3 thats an Alastor x male reader so lemme know if ya'll would want that🫡💗

Warnings: V@lentino

Art by the very talented: @dragon-spaghetti

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

You were having the best time. Talking to Husk and Angel was very fun and you saw the amazing chemistry they had. You guys were talking laughing and drinking in your office when suddenly Angels phone started to get bombarded with messages.

You felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. Angel hurriedly reached for his phone and when he saw the messages he jumped up.

"It was nice to meet you (Y/N) I had a lot of fun and thank you for the drinks but I have to go now, Husk baby I'll see you at the Hotel don't wait up for me if I get home late."

He said, with one breath and quicker then you have seen anybody talk and left with the same speed.

"Shit..." said Husk as he stood up with a sigh to pour himself another drink.

"What was that?" You asked baffled.

"It's...its his job, his boss he is... a fucking cunt"

Said Husk with audible anger in his voice.

You were about to ask more questions but then it hit you. You knew angel was a porn actor. And you also knew about the Vees. It was easy to put the picture together from this point on. And judging by Angles terrified reaction, Husks anger and cussing you could quite easily tell how his boss treated the spider.

"Hey, Husk" he looked at you with tired eyes.

"I have an idea." You said at last with a smirk on your face.

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

"HAHH, suck it idiots, guess who was invited to a business meeting by THE (Y/N) Demon of gambling." Yelled Valentino as he entered the Vees break room.

"What. The. FUCK, give me that" said Vox pissed as he tore the invitation from Valentinos hand.

"THAT BITCH, why did he invite you and not all of us."

"Never mind that who the fuck sends messages via letters?" Asked Velvette disgusted.

"This is the way the big shots do it, you uncultured swine" said Valentine still very full of himself due to the invite.

"That doesn't make ANY sense" Vox has read the invitation at least 3x by now not understanding why you invited only Valentino.

The Vees have been trying to get in contact with you for years now but to no avail. You had no interest in any alliances since you thought them to be stupid and egoistic, if overlord meetings were something to go by.

"Deal with it honey, I'm just better than you guys" ended Valentino the conversation as he snatched the letter from Vox and blew the pink smoke from his cigarette into his face.

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

Valentino showed up to your casino with Angel by his side dressed in...well, almost nothing. Of course he wasn't gonna show up without a pretty thing by his side and who better than his favorite toy.

"If you embarrass me in front of the demon of gambling I'll-" he started saying through clenched teeth but got interrupted. By you.

"Mr. Valentino, it is such a pleasure to meet you." You started as you put your hand out to shake.

He shook your hand slowly. He was surprised to say the least. One of the most powerful overlords was this young, not to mention very hot. When he got over his surprise however his personality was back and on FULL display for you. He turned on his charm like never before and started shamelessly flirting with you.

You just kept the calm smile on your face.

"So, Mr. Valentino I'm sure you are wondering why I invited you and we will be having a business meeting do not threat however I'm afraid I have something else to take care of first, please go ahed and try out the games my casino has to offer and drink something, all the drinks are on the house for you."

Now, in a situation like this normally Valentino would be offended. How dare someone invite him and then say they have something else to do.

But you were different. You were a very powerful person in all aspects, your goddamn charm, it was just irresistible not to mention the free drinks.

"Well all right but do not keep me waiting for long now, amor." He said with the ever present flirtatious tone in his voice.

You didn't react to this, just a simple nod of your head and with that you left.

Valentino hasn't gambled much in his life, or death, he just stood by when Vox did it, so he sat down by a random table.

He won. To his (and Angels) biggest surprise, he won.

"Oh, yeah, this is going to be a good night. ANGEL, bring me another drink."

This was just the beginning of the night. He continued to go around table by table, and he won, by every single one of them. And the more he won the more he drank.

About two hours after he arrived one of your employees came up to your office.

"It's time sir I think he is drunk enough." Said your guard. So, you put down the book you were reading and stretched. You didn't have anything to do, that was just a lie. It was just part of the plan.

When you arrived downstairs you saw that your employee had been right, Valentino was standing on the table singing and kicking the coins he had won.

You cleared your throat.

"Mr. Valentino, I'm glad you're enjoying my casino" with that one sentence you got everyone's attention in the room.

You could have that effect. You weren't a cruel overlord and didn't choose to rule over people by the means of fear. But you could make it so that even just your voice demanded respect.

"I see you have won quite a lot, would you care to play a round against, me?" You said ever so calmly.

And of course drunk and full of himself due to not loosing once all night, Valentino was more then happy to play with you.

"Now then, since we are playing in the big leagues now we cant just play for money thats below us don't you think."

"I'd like to be below you, handsome" he answered.

You just hummed, unamused.

"I say, how about we play for souls."

That caught Valentino off guard, he didn't think of that, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of you so he agreed.

"And...whose soul would you be offering? I heard the demon of gambling doesn't own anyones soul" said Valentino with just a bit of temptation in his voice.

You hummed.

"You heard correctly, I'm in no need of souls, I will be offering...my own" you said still as calm as ever.

To that Valentine spit out his drink. The amount of power that would be in his hand if he owned your soul is...too much for his drunken mind to think about. And of course due to the amount of alcohol in his system he didn't think about how stupid this proposition would be on your part if you weren't 100% sure you would win. He didn't even think about the fact that you are the demon of gambling, the owner of a casino, it would have been obvious to anyone that he had no chance at winning.

"Well then, I'll offer the soul of this beautiful thing here" he said while squeezing angels cheek.

You looked at Angel and said

"Very well then, let the game begin.".

After a few rounds, you were loosing. Big fucking time and Angel was starting to get very worried. But not only him, Husk, who was the whole time as well, making sure the plan goes well, was starting to doubt you two. He knew first hand just how good you were especially in poker, but it was still a game that depended on luck at least 50% of it.

When Valentino needed a break to go puke, Husk walked over to you.

"Kid, just what the hell are you doing you are aware that you're loosing." He said pretty pissed off.

"Oh, I'm just messing with him-"

"Well stop, what if you mess too close to the sun you might be good but you cannot control your luck."

"Luck is a non factor if you use logic. You seriously think a porn seller, money hungry, moth man big shot wanna be will beat me, in Poker? Don't insult me." And with that Valentino returned and the game continued.

He kept winning rounds and Angel and Husk were growing more anxious by the second.

Finally the last rounds were coming around and thats when you decide you messed with him enough. And just like that you started putting down winning hands one after the other.

Valentino was panicking. He is about to loose his best paying costumer whatever you come out with this round everything depends on it-

Royal Flush.

You fucking won the game.

Now that the loss has sobered his mind he could finally look at all of this in a logical way.

Of fucking corse you won. You are the mother fucking demon of gambling just how the hell did he think he could win.

But the wins before. Hold on. That was illogical too, NO ONE goes to a casino and wins every fucking time was he really that drunk not to notice.

You broke him out of his thoughts when you snapped your fingers. And Angels contract that bound him to Valentino appeared in your hands.

However now, where Valentinos name used to be, stood yours.

"Well, Mr. Valentino that was a very productive business meeting I hope to never see you in the future"

"...What?" asked the moth angrier by the minute.

"You still haven't figured it out? I do not care for you or the other Vees business. Did it not seem suspicious that I only invited you? What am I saying of course it didn't, because a narcissist like you would never ask why someone wants their company. See, thats why tricking you was so easy. Getting you drunk wasn't even necessary I only did it so I can be sure that you will play for angels soul."

"...but, but...NO, Angel dust is still mine, he-" Valentino went to reach for Angel but Husk stopped him.

"No he fucking aint." Hissed the cat.

In panic Valentino tried to make the leash appear but to no avail. A deal was a deal. He doesn't own Angel's soul anymore.

"Just why the FUCK was it so important to you to get a wretched whore's soul?" Asked the moth now yelling.

"It was a favor for an old friend."

"You mother fucking- do you know who the fuck I am, I will destroy you me and the Vees-"

"No" you stated simply.

This was the last drop for Valentino.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NO-"

"I would like to ask you to leave now Mr.Valentino and, please tell your partner not to send me any more invitations, I do not care"

Valentino made one last attempt to attack you but your guards stopped him.

"I was winning all night you dickwad I sucked your casino dry" tried to irritate you Valentino.

"Oh? Thats right here, isn't this one of your coins?" You threw it at him.

"Of course, every coin has two sides."

Valentino turned the coin around to discover a big fat 0 at the other side.

"What-"

"You really thought you won at every single table? Wow, you are even stupider than I thought."

It was part of the plan, you told everyone who worked at the casino wherever Valentino sits down, he wins, at least coins of zero. You needed to boost his confidence so he'd think he can beat you.

"You will not take him away from me I'll find him-"

"You will do no such a thing he belongs to me now so he is under my protection." You were getting a but pissed now, he just wouldn't give up would he?

He was about yo say more when you looked at him. Dead in the eyes. Thats half the reason why you are as powerful as you are. The look. If you looked someone deep in the eyes they will see their worst nightmares playing right in front of them.

Valentino started screaming, crying and shaking uncontrollably. And with that your guards dragged him out.

You turned to Angel and Husk, who were standing there holding hands.

You looked at Angel, lifted the contract, and tore it in half right in front of him.

Angel was staring at you. He stared as tears started to roll down his cheek and he fell to the ground in sobs.

'I'm free' he thought to himself over and over again. Husk chuckled as he knelt down to his boyfriend and hugged him.

You two locked eyes, and you understood just how thankful he was, words weren't needed.

You wanted the couple to have some privacy so you headed back to your office.

Unbeknownst to you another demon was present that night at the casino, and he saw the whole ordeal.

"How well you grew up to be, young (Y/N)" chuckled Alstor to himself.

"(Y/N)" you heard Ang- Anthony yell from behind you.

You turned around with raised eyebrows and looked at him.

"THANK YOU" he yelled still sobbing.

You smiled at him.

"Happy to help, for old times sake."

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