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peachsukii · 5 months

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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ Bakugo goes with you to Disney world!

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ✩ content; fun & fluffy fluff, soft bakugo ⇢ katsuki bakugo masterlist ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — I was visiting family in Florida and wanted to spread some magic to my favorite. 💕

The flares of the Florida sun beat down on your exposed skin, humidity wrapping around your body like a blanket. The thin coat of sweat under your clothes wasn’t going to ruin your mood, but it definitely might ruin your boyfriend’s.

“Fuck, s’hot,” Bakugo grumbles, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat gathered on his forehead with the back of his free hand. “Knew you said it’d be a sticky heat, but goddamn. We haven’t even gotten in’ta the park yet and I’m dyin’.”

“Sorry babes, it’ll be better once we’re off the ferry,” you reassured, knowing that the trip across the water to the main entrance is always the hottest part of the trek. The ferry was packed with families donning various themed outfits - matching t-shirts, Disney princess costumes, and tons of little ones with Mickey and Minnie ears on their heads.

Bakugo leans over to you, snickering at a few kids running across the deck. “That kid’s gonna have the best sleep of his life tonight.”

A gentle smile settles on your lips as you watched the joy exude from the toddler, giggling up a storm with his mom.

“I can’t remember a time I had a sliver of that kinda energy,” you joke, lulling your head back as the wind swept through your ponytail. “Or a decent night’s sleep.”

“Ya had plenty of energy last night,” he laughs, smirking as you smack him on the arm while the ferry approaches the dock. Bakugo takes your hand when you stand to exit the boat, interlocking his fingers with your own. The greenery of the entrance flourishes under the sun’s rays, immediately catching your attention. You pull him to the side, standing in front of the landscape with the plaque that reads “Magic Kingdom” and the anniversary celebration signage. Before you can ask him to take a picture together, he’s already tugging you closer and taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Knew you were gonna ask, you and your sentimental ass,” Bakugo says, unlocking his fingers from your grasp in exchange for a spot on your waist.

“Scoot in close baby, I wanna get the flowers an’ shit.” He angles his phone to catch both of you with the flower display and the entry sign in the background, and to your surprise, he’s got the cheesiest smile on his face when he takes the shot.

“Go stand over there,” he demands, patting you on the small of your back when he lets go of your waist. You shoot him a confused stare, about to ask why before he cuts you off.

“I want a shot of my favorite princess. Stand over there an’ look pretty for me, peach.”

“Aww, Disney Magic already making you sappy?” You tease, sticking your tongue out him playfully to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. He huffs while signaling you to move into the perfect spot. Once he’s satisfied with the position, you pose sweetly without hesitation with your foot propped up and cute little peace sign. Bakugo’s heart leaps into his throat when he studies your beautiful face through his screen, instantly setting the photo as his lock screen.

Both of you make your way to the gates and scan your magic bands, the signature chime and green light letting the two of you proceed into Magic Kingdom. Strolling through the Main Street Square, you stop in your tracks at the sight of Cinderella’s Castle, taking in its majestic glow with starry eyes.

“Wow, what a beautiful fu-uh, freakin’, sight,” Bakugo says, trying to watch his language around all the kids roaming the town square. You can’t help but giggle at his instance to be “family friendly,” trying his damndest not to curse at his natural 110% volume level. Jokingly, you told him earlier at breakfast that Mickey Mouse would pop out of a bush and scold him for cursing too much if he got caught and he’d end up in Disney Jail.

“So, where to first?” You question, bouncing on your heels with excitement. “Wanna meet your actual favorite princess?”

“Fu-screw off,” he snorts, squeezing your hand in jest. “…maybe later.”

You start walking down Main Street, navigating the crowds to head to the little nook between the castle and Tomorrowland. Peaking around the line queue, you squeal with excitement when you see Merida posing with a family of five.

“Look, there she is!”

Bakugo wasn’t really sure why he was nervous, he knew it was an actress, but a familiar childlike sense of wonder had him wanting to kick his feet with enthusiasm over the thought of meeting his favorite Disney princess. Merida happens to glance toward the two of you as you pass by the line queue before the next family gets her attention, waving when she sees you smile at her. Bakugo doesn’t know what to do, a weird fluttering sensation in his stomach as he manages to give a small wave back.

“Don’t get too soft on me now,” you quip, elbowing him in the side. "I happen to like your grumpy ass."

He barks out a laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “M’not soft, princess. You’ll be askin’ for the opposite later.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, biting it playfully while you dramatically swat at him to cut it out.

The two of you meander through Magic Kingdom as the day goes on, jumping on rides, watching the parades, sharing snacks, and absorbing all the magic the park offered. You can’t remember a time where you’ve seen Bakugo smile for hours on end, enjoying your company and having a blast - even in the blistering heat! He went into a laughing fit watching you walk off of Space Mountain all wobbly the entire walk down the exit ramp from dizziness. And when he beat your score on the Buzz Lightyear ride, he insisted on buying the souvenir picture to prove his victory over you…and because he wants to hang it in the living room when you get home.

The day winds down, the sunset splayed across the horizon as the two of you settle into a spot in front of the castle, patiently waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The refreshing sensation of orange flavored dole whip hits your tongue, taking a few scoops before handing the cup back to Bakugo.

"Isn't this the life?" You ask, leaning back on your hands to stretch out your legs. "Can't believe I got you to wear matching Mickey ears."

"Y'didn't, you bought them when I said no," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of dole whip. "But I'm glad ya did, they're stupidly cute."

He sets the half-eaten cup on the sidewalk next to him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "C'mere, before it gets too dark."

Bakugo tugs you closer, leaning against you as he hands you his phone to take a picture. When you're about to push the shutter button, he surprises you by planting a sweet peck on your cheek, a gleeful smile crossing your lips. When you look back at it, you can't help but think this is real - your boyfriend, the Katsuki Bakugo, one of Japan's top ten heroes, is here with you in Disney World, happy as can be, wearing matching Mickey ears and taking silly selfies with you.

"I'm starting to think you're the sentimental one."

"Can't a guy show off his girl?"

His girl.

"Color me shocked you wanted to be seen in those," you point to the Mickey ears atop his hat.

"Peach, y'know I'd do anything for ya at this point. I like bein' all cute and shit with you, and only you."

And you know what? That was a good enough answer. Bakugo flashes you a toothy grin before putting his phone back in his pocket, scooching closer so your hips are touching and offering you the last of the dole whip. The fireworks start a few moments later, the two of you lost in the beautiful explosive lights for the entire show.

Later that night, when you finally trudged back to the hotel, you have a notification of a new tagged photo that catches your attention - from Dynamight001. The caption of the photo set is short and sweet, thousands of likes and comments already flooding the post as he uploaded it on his main hero account.

"home's anywhere you are.🧡"

You're swiping through the photos, and there's one you didn't know he took at the very end. It's of you while watching the fireworks, the reflects of color sparkling in your eyes with a smile on your face.

Your heart beats against your ribs, overflowing with love for him as he waltzes out of the bathroom in his sweats. He sees the look on your face and chuckles, tackling you to the bedsheets and peppers your neck with kisses.

"Get off your phone already and in'ta bed, baby. We've got another long day tomorrow."

You hum in acknowledgement, tossing your phone onto the nightstand and sinking under the comforter to snuggle up into his chest - just the way he loves.

And you can't help but think to yourself, he's right.

Home's anywhere you are.

Disney bound!; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq @liluvtojineteyam

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #soft bakugou #bakugo fluff #bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #☆.rei writes

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ppomumgranatum · 7 months

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truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom

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ladykailitha · 7 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 5

Hello! In this one we have things not getting off to the fun start Steve wanted, but Eddie and Steve show Robin the meditative joys of watching the weavers. And Mike and El get a lesson in when to give to friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Once they had all paid Steve gathered up the kids.

“You are to stay in pairs,” he admonished. “I don’t care if you swap every so often but stay in at least pairs. You can stay in great big group for all I care. But no one wanders off alone. If you want to do something and no one else does come find an adult, chances are that one of us six was already going to do it, okay?”

All the kids nodded.

“Everyone is to meet here at 1pm and 6pm for lunch and dinner,” Steve continued. “The adults are exempt but I tried to pick times where there wasn’t anything big going on. Food money was given to me by your parents so you’ll never starve. Drinking fountains are everywhere. Stay hydrated, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Will nodded. “I’ll make sure they do.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, Will.” He held up his hand as they were getting into pairs. “One more thing. Your parents gave you money for loot. If you spend it all today and see something you want on Saturday, I will not buy it for you. Now I can’t stop anyone else from doing the same, but you need to watch your money.”

Eddie looked at the other Corroded Coffin boys who all nodded. “I think I can speak for us adults when I say. I ain’t paying for your shit either.”

All the kids turned to Robin like a lion sensing its prey.

“Don’t look at me,” she huffed holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m poor. I’m hoping that someone pretty will buy me pretty things so I don’t have to go without.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Looks like you’ve been stemmed–stymied–” he frowned. “Looks like you’ve been thwarted all around.”

The kids grumbled but nodded.

Steve smiled. “Now go have fun! I promise, you’ll love it.”

Max and El grabbed each other’s hands and skipped ahead of the boys. Robin smiled.

“That’s the downside to growing up,” she sighed wistfully. “Is adults no longer think holding hands with your best friend is cute, only gay.”

Eddie nodded. “I just don’t care most of the time,” he said with a shrug.

Steve turned to the members of the band. “Are you guys going to be staying together for the most part or will you be splitting up? I just want to make sure I know where people are going to be.”

Gareth and Jeff shared an amused glance.

“What?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Eddie said you were such a mom friend,” Gareth explained, “but I didn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, man,” Jeff chuckled. “It’s cute.”

Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot.

Brian waved his hands. “It’s not bad. It’s just a surprise.”

Jeff cocked his head to side. “Maybe not that big of one after seeing how he handled Mike...”

Brian laughed. “Fair enough.”

Eddie walked over and lifted Steve’s chin up gently. “It’s sweet, Stevie. We aren’t mocking you for it, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Suddenly Robin coughed into her fist that sounded a little like ‘gay’.

Eddie and Steve almost leaped back from each other while their friends laughed.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Eddie muttered as he stalked past his friends.

Steve just stood there as the rest of them followed Eddie in. All but Robin.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she mumbled. “I thought you two were cute, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That’s the last thing I thought it would do.”

Steve just shrugged and then led the way into the Fair grounds. Robin’s eyes lit up as the sights, and sounds, and smells came at her all at once.

There were people in jeans and t-shirts but also people in various states of costume, ranging from beginner to professional. The period ranges were vast, too. From the early 14th century to the very, very beginning of the 20th.

Robin was in awe.

“Steeeeveeee,” she said, smacking his arm repeatedly. “This is amazing!”

Steve turned to her and smiled. “I told you.”

She hugged him around the neck. “You did and you were right. Those kids brains must have exploded on entry.”

He chuckled. “Well, thankfully I don’t see any brain goo anywhere, so I think they’re safe.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Where do you want to go first?” Steve asked, taking a pamphlet from Fair worker that had all the events and times on it.

She peeked over his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully.

“There isn’t a lot going on today.”

Steve shrugged. “All the big events like the joust are going to be on Saturday when they have the biggest crowds. But there are still some fun things we can do.” He pointed to the events under that day. “We can watch the weavers or battle a knight.”

“You better not do that one,” she said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why? Because you think I’ll lose?”

She swatted his arm. “No, dingus, because you might accidentally pulverize the guy.”

Suddenly there was another arm being slung around Steve’s shoulders.

“I must concur with the lady pirate, mi’lord,” Eddie said cheerfully. “I’ve seen you fight, handsome. You’d accidentally kill the poor actor.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

He looked around but he didn’t see the rest of Eddie’s merry band. “Where are your friends?”

Eddie sighed. “Already succumbed the siren lures of capitalism.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “Huh?”

Eddie pointed a little further down the way where the market had been set up. “They’re at the sword stall.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O and he nodded. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that’s where the kids are, too.”

“That’s because there is nothing else to do,” Robin pointed out. “Not all of us want to watch people make clothes.”

Eddie’s lit up. “They’re already showing the weavers?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you want to come with me?”

“Hell yeah!” he crowed. He grabbed Robin’s wrist. “You’ll love this.”

And he started dragging her to where the looms, Steve laughing, close behind.

They reached building it was housed in and Eddie stepped aside to allow her to see into the room.

It was brightly lit from them many windows in the room. There were different looms from different eras and different levels of expertise. There was even a cute little blonde girl barely older than Holly, Mike’s little sister in one corner with her starter loom, still making mistakes but being patiently guided by someone who looked to be her mom.

But the true center piece was this amazing Asian loom at the back. The weaver was in a kimono and face paint, but her hands danced along the loom making it seem like she had more than usual two.

Robin was smitten.

Eddie smiled back at her and then grabbed her wrist again to pull her into the room.

The little girl’s mother looked up and smiled at them. “Welcome!” she greeted warmly. “We, of the weavers guild, greet you. I am Goody Danvers. If you have any questions please direct them at me so our weavers aren’t disturbed.”

All three of them nodded and began to wander around. Robin was forced to admit that it was way more than just making clothes or even cloth. It was artistry and technique that was just beautiful to watch.

She was, of course, drawn to the Asian loom with its beautiful weaver.

Steve on the other hand went straight for Goody Danvers. He was asking her all sorts of questions and she just lit up with someone expressing genuine interest in the weaving.

Then Steve asked the question. “You thread is amazing. Do you spin it yourself?”

Goody Danvers face was like the sun with how happy that question made her. “We do! Do you guys want to see how we do it?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically while Robin was loathed to leave the beautiful weaver.

“You go ahead,” she murmured never taking her eyes off the scene the woman was weaving into her tapestry.

Steve’s shoulders slumped a little. But Eddie came skipping up to them. “Prick any princesses’ fingers lately?” he teased Goody Danvers.

She wagged her finger at him. “Do you be going around calling me a witch, I might get burned at the stake.”

Steve and Eddie laughed and mimed zipping their lips closed and throwing away the key.

She led them to the backroom where there were other women spinning. Steve figured these were the ones that didn’t like being watched because more than half of them stopped what they were doing the moment they walked in.

He smiled his best babysitter smile and waved like an absolute dork. One of the teenaged girls blushed and turned away.

Eddie frowned, putting his hands on his lower back. He was about to turn back around and rejoin Birdie when he felt a warm hand on his elbow. Steve wasn’t looking at the pretty red-head that blushed at his dorky wave, he was looking at him. Hazel eyes almost antique silver in the natural light.

“You okay?” Steve whispered.

Eddie nodded. “It’s just dustier in here than I thought it would be.”

Goody Danvers nodded. “No fire of any kind allowed in this room. A simple spark could cause a powder keg in here and I don’t feel like leveling the Fair this year.”

“What type of materials do you use for your thread?” Steve asked, his hand never leaving Eddie’s elbow.

And they just listened to her talk about the different types of threads and what they were used for and Eddie felt the warmth in Steve’s presence as he paid her his rapt attention.

Was that was he looked like when he talked about DnD or metal music? Because if it was Steve never looking away from him when talked suddenly made a lot of sense. It was addicting watching Steve engage with someone who shared his interests.

Steve looked down at his watch. “Shit. We’ve got to go meet some people for lunch. But thank you for taking your time to show me everything and answer all my questions.”

Good Danvers smiled. “The pleasure was all mine. It was nice to find a young man who was so interested in what I had to say.” She walked over to a basket.

“Here, pick out a bundle of thread you like as my treat.”

Steve really lit up then. “Thanks!” He went through the basket and picked out this beautiful red silk thread.

“Good choice,” she said. “I know you’ll make something truly remarkable with it.”

Steve blushed and said thank you again as Eddie led him out. They were forced to drag Robin back out of the building.

“Food,” Steve insisted. “Actually...” he had spotted a water fountain. “Water first then food.”

Eddie took a long drink, his throat dry from the spinning room. Robin went next and then Steve.

They barely made it to the food court just under the wire. Some of the kids were already there. Max and Lucas, Dustin, too. Gareth was there, but Jeff and Brian weren’t yet.

Dustin looked at his watched and tapped like a disapproving father. “Just what time do you call this, hmmm?”

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Like father like son,” Eddie teased.

Dustin gasped, offended.

It wasn’t too long before El, Mike, and Will showed up, cutting it even finer than they had, arriving at 1pm exactly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow as they skidded to a stop in front of their table.

Steve got them their food and most of them were half way through their lunch by the time Jeff and Brian had wandered into the food court.

Everyone was talking about all the things they had seen and their plans for the rest of the day and maybe Steve was more than a little pleased that they hadn’t spent all their money.

Everyone was talking but Will. So Steve slid over to the young boy and nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” he whispered.

Mike looked up at them and then began to poke at his plate.

Alarm bells were going off in Steve’s head.

“There was this really cool wizard’s staff at one of the stalls,” Will said. “But it costs ten dollars more than what I have on me.”

“I offered to give him some of mine,” Mike said, “but he wouldn’t take it.”

Steve got it. “Ah.”

“It’s your money, Mike,” Will protested. “Buy something you want.”

“I want to buy it for you,” Mike bit back.

El poked at her food too. “I too, offered to help him buy it but he wouldn’t let me either.”

Eddie stood up and motioned for Mike and El to follow him, while Steve scooted closer to Will. “I’m sorry you couldn’t afford it and it’s hard when you want something so bad and it’s just out of reach.”

Will nodded. “But somehow I don’t think you specifically are talking about a wizard’s staff.”

Steve looked up at were Eddie was talking to Mike and El, and then ducked his head shyly. “No, you’re right there.”

Will gave his hand a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think he likes you too.”

Steve squeezed his hand right back. He just hoped Will was right.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @dolphincliffs @child-of-cthulhu @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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juniefruit · 27 days

Text

☆ Burn the Breeze ☆

☆ cowboy! chan x gn! reader

☆ notes: as a midwestern resident I feel it's my due diligence to write this...

☆ summary: Life on the ranch was business as usual. It only takes one runaway calf to bring you to Chan, head rancher of the neighboring property. You've gotten used to the summer storms that pass through the area, but this one caught you off guard...

☆ warnings: NO SMUT!!! Safe for the kiddos!! jk. just a few horny thoughts by both Chan and y/n. petnames-doll, sweetheart, getting soaked (by the rain...), western attire, cow wrangling & horse riding

☆ word count: 4.6k

Rays of bright summer sunlight beat down upon the grounds of the countryside. The tall, dry grasses hiss in the breeze, and the ranch horses whinny in their pasture. The sun was unforgiving this summer, the heat hitting you in waves until you seek the shade from one of the sparse trees on the grounds. You huff out a sigh and wipe your brow at the thought of finally ending the day and leaping into bed. The mountains gleam with golden sunlight, creating a picture-perfect view you never got tired of. This ranch was your family’s pride and joy. Your cowboy hat casted a shadow above your tired eyes, and your boots shuffled against the dusty gravel in front of the barn. The worn-out radio strewn with cobwebs inside the barn was playing muffled country songs, barely detectable. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the chickens shuffling about in their coop. And even farther, against the backdrop of the mountains, horses whinnied beyond your property; you wondered who they belonged to. The few moments of tranquility were almost concerning. It didn’t last long, though. The panicked shriek that you recognized as one of the mother cows brought you back to earth. With a sharp turn of your body, you sprinted to their pasture. Hopping the fence with a step and a jump, you sought after the sound of concern. The mother cow was all black except for a white spot on the top of her head and her hooves. You realized, her calf is nowhere to be seen. Spinning around and looking through the surrounding herd, you don’t see the tiny black fluff ball anywhere. You immediately assume the worst. Wolves did come through the area once in a while, but nightly patrols and electric fences seem to do the trick.

“Don’t worry mama, I’ll find your baby.” You pat her head with a sigh before making your way to the stables, where your horse, Haven, was. She had a beige coat, with a mane of the richest caramel brown. Quickly saddling up, you head out into the acres and acres of land that neighbored the ranch, searching for the missing calf. The searching went on until you reached the fence of the neighboring ranch. You didn’t know them too well, only from the few times you had spotted a few young cowboys wrangling their herd of cattle in the distance, too far away to see any distinct features. As you walked along the property line, sudden commotion to your left caught your attention.

“C’mere, you lil’ rascal!” A man shouted, on top of a horse with a coat of fur as dark as night. Lasso in hand, he was trying to catch something. Squinting your eyes, you recognized the baby cow. It had the same coloring as its mother. The calf was yelping in distress, clearly scared from being in an unfamiliar environment all by itself. You watched, stunned. He was exceptionally handsome, shirt hugging his broad shoulders just right, and black cowboy hat framing his features.

“Ha! Gotcha now.” He spoke as the lasso caught onto the calf to stop its frantic running. His muscles in his back and arms rippled as he held the rope steady. The huff of your horse alerted him of your presence, his eyes landing on you near the fence. A smug smile grew on his face.

“This one yours?” He spoke loudly to cover the distance. His voice was firm but not threatening, and smooth as molasses. In your dazed state, it took you a few beats of silence before your brain processed his question.

“Uh? Oh, yeah. Thanks for rescuing him-” You stated.

“Ah, no big deal. Happens all the time.” He brushed it off with a shake of his head, as if wrangling a spooked calf was as easy as breathing. You stuttered, no coherent words available.

“So, you’re from the next ranch over?” He asked with a tilt to his head, a playful expression as his eyes peered into yours.

“Y- Yeah, he must’ve seen something and ran off and couldn’t find his way back,” you gesture to the baby cow, still tugging on the lasso. The man shifted on his horse, stepping closer. He loved eye contact, apparently, because his eyes, like sculpted marble, pierced your gaze. He chuckled at the calf’s curiosity.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call my ranch. We’re always happy to help.” He was close enough to reach over and hand you a business card from his back pocket. The proximity wasn’t helping your nerves. It felt like you couldn’t breathe; he was dripping with suave confidence. “Or just call me,” he winks with a smirk. “Number’s on the back. And I’m Chris, but you can call me Chan.”

“O- Okay. Thanks.” Sure enough, when you flipped over the card, his number was writted neatly in blue ink. “I’m y/n. I live… over there.” You pointed behind you, and immediately regretted opening your mouth. He stifled a chuckle and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

“I would hope so, sweetheart.” His subtle accent tainted his voice, smooth and sensual. He hands you the lasso, the calf running to your side beneath your saddle. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Get this little guy home before it gets dark.” He said. With a determined nod and a goodbye, you set off with Haven and the calf. Once back, you loosened the rope and reunited the herd. Crap, you realized, you had Chan’s rope. You’d text him about it later. The thought brought heat to your face and you’re lucky that no one was around to see you blushing. The late afternoon setback had put a pause on your nightly relaxation, but now was finally the time. You were asleep before you knew it, the rising sun and the call of a rooster disrupting your peace.

During your entire morning routine, you were drafting messages to Chan in your mind. Too desperate, too formal, too casual. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Until you finally settled on something you deemed decent-

8:41a.m:

You: Hi Chan! It’s y/n from yesterday. Thanks so much for your help! I have your lasso, when do you want it back?

8:43a.m

Chan: Hey, sweetheart. My boys are making dinner tonight, why don’t you join us?

You froze. My boys? Does he have kids? You barely know this guy! You didn’t have any plans tonight though… And he seemed nice… Whispered the little voice in the back of your head.

8:55a.m

You: That sounds great, see you at 6?

8:56a.m

Chan: Sure, doll. Just come through the front door.

And it’s settled. As the rising sun shone through the blinds in your living room, another day on the ranch began. The anticipation was killing you; but most of the ranch animals didn’t seem to mind your distracted state. A thought struck you like a bolt of lightning; you’d bring a housewarming gift to Chan and his… boys. But what, though? You mulled it over until you finished lunch, and through the afternoon while tending to the chickens. Every grueling minute that went by, the knot in your stomach tightened, just like the lasso you had a death-grip on in your left hand. You opted to drive the distance, lasso and a basket of eggs settled neatly in the passenger seat. Walking up the white wooden steps, your feet fidgeted in your cowboy boots, and you fixed your hat for the thousandth time already. You hit the doorbell with your elbow, shuffling to the side so you wouldn’t drop anything. When you opened the door, You couldn’t believe your eyes.

________________________

“Hey, you made it!” Chan, as smiley as ever, was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. But behind him… those were not boys. Those were men. Very loud, chaotic ones. Three of them were arguing over something on the TV, the tallest holding the remote over his head. One of them was out cold on the couch; one was eating... Is that cheesecake? And the last two were casually playing on a nintendo switch. Snapping out of it, you realized that Chan was still looking at you with a certain sparkle in his eye that you couldn’t discern.

“I did! Uh-” You look down, lasso in one hand, basket in the other. “Here’s your lasso. And I also brought these, as a gift!” You lift up the basket of eggs to show them off.

“Aw, ya didn’t have to, doll,” He stepped closer, “But thank you. The boys will probaby go through these in a day or two.” He loosed a faux sigh at the sheer thought of how much food they use. His voice was saccharine sweet with an australian lilt to his voice that had the power to instantly draw you in like a spider’s web.

“You mean, them?” You pointed behind him curiously. He looked behind his shoulder instinctually.

“Yeah, why dont I introduce you to them? Don’t get all shy now, they won’t bite.” He smirked, shuffling to the side to let you in. Your boots came off by the door, placed neatly next to the pile of men’s boots of varying colors. As you passed him, Chan’s scent was woodsy but clean; pleasant to be around. You were pleasantly surprised at the state of their home; pristine walls spotted with tasteful decor for a ranch house, dark hardwood floors smooth beneath your feet.

“Ahem!” Chan faked a cough to get everyone’s attention. They turned their heads simultaneously, alarmed at the sudden sound. Those on the ground scrambled to their feet, one of them shoving the sleeping one awake. “Boys, I want to introduce you to y/n. She lives on the next ranch over on the left side,” Chan smiles at you with a sincere look on his face, not matching his usual rugged and cool demeanor. You smile with pursed lips, waving. Chan points as he names each of them. “Here we have Hyunjin, Minho, Changbin; then Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin and Jisung.”

“Okay… I think I got it.” You say, repeating their names in your head with a furrow in your brow.

“Ah, don’t sweat it y/n. Why don’t we start dinner?” At Chan’s words, the boys cheer, making their way to the large dining table and attached kitchen.

Sitting to Chan’s right, he had rolled up his sleeves to his strong forearms, showing off a beautiful tan. Veins ran alongside them, stopping at his hands that were bony yet built, secure in the way they gripped the cutlery. Safe to say, dinner was entertaining. Your presence gave Minho just the right dosage of an ego boost when you complimented his cooking, a sly smirk gracing his features. The boys behaved like it was any other dinner, managing only a few stern looks from Chan when things got too heated. They’d tease him about wanting to make a good impression on you later. And when all was said and done, Chan walked you out the door, with that dimpled smile that made you feel dizzy, until you were sat in your ranch’s truck and driving down the gravel driveway, a blush as red as the sweetest cherries on your cheeks that Chan wished he could’ve seen.

That dimpled smile, those broad shoulders. His playful jokes and mannerisms. If you could superglue yourself to him, you would. Every time he spoke, you took in every word like a sermon. You’d listen to him talk for hours if you could, and gawk at him like he was the world’s most beautiful creation for even longer. But you couldn’t voice your true feelings. It was such a deep and vulnerable part of you, you just couldn’t. Not when Chan would be so nice about his rejection, letting you down so softly that you couldn’t even argue. He’d probably even try to set you up with someone else from his ranch, which you’d have to politely decline because you only want him. Him, always him: ‘What’s Chan doing right now?’ ‘He should take a nap, he looked tired yesterday.’ ‘I wonder if he would like this dress.’ You couldn’t get enough of him.

Chan took it upon himself to start patrolling the property line between you two, “coincidentally” at the same time you were. Sometimes, you’d talk until the sun went down, and the crickets started chirping, until your horse stomped her feet and you had to pull yourself away to finish your duties. Even your horses got to know each other, huffing and sniffing like good horse friends, you assume.

Chan also wished that you could just read his mind. You were perfect to him, crossing his mind at all times of day and night. Ever since he first laid eyes on you, he was a goner. He shunned himself for not introducing himself sooner, had he known about the cute rancher down the street. That’s the hardest part, even though it’s quite simple: he thinks about you, and he blushes until his mind overheats and he can’t focus. How could he tell you that? He’d probably stutter and mumble until he melted into a puddle of embarrassment. Oh the duality. He imagines he’d get lost in your curious eyes, so patient as you wait for him to finally spit it out. You care about him and his boys, and it makes his heart swell with something he’s never felt before.

Tonight was no different. You were laughing at something Chan said, the dim lamp-post on the property line illuminated your features, until a boom of thunder surrounded the area. You were so lost in eachother, you must have missed the storm clouds rolling in. The horses whined, and then you felt the drizzle of rain. Chan chuckled at the scene, and a droplet slid down the slope of his nose.

“I should get going,” You mused, but not sounding too enthusiastic about it.

“Aw, you scared of a little rain?” Chan teased, dimples on full display. You huffed out a laugh.

“What? No way. I just-” A crack of thunder and lightning so bright your eyes hurt. The rain got heavier. Your horse got restless. Chan frowned at the weather. “Really, I need to go check on everyone. This could be bad.” You squinted up at the sky, the color of a thunderstorm.

“Yeah, I’ll do the same. The boys are probably already working on it.” With a determined nod, you both set off in opposite directions. Once you were back, all the ranch animals already sought cover. Going through your mental checklist, everything looked good. Just one last place to check: the cow pen. And the gate was wide open, creaking with the force of the wind. You outwardly groaned, stepping into the pen to take a headcount. The wind howled past your ears, and the rain thudded against the sodden ground. Squinting, something felt off. Counting again, something felt like it was missing. The calf. Of course. Rain was running down your face at this point, fishing a flashlight out of your satchel and turning it onto the highest setting. You flipped around and darted for the wooded area at the property border. It was your best guess, if you had anything to learn from the last time this happened. You were honestly kind of glad, because Chan would’ve stayed a stranger otherwise. As you reached the fence, you heard the shouts and orders from the boys across the way. They were working hard to make sure everything was sealed and shut before the storm got worse. Your frantic heart was bettering in your chest, eyes scanning every barn and pen you could see. Before you could react, an old and gnarly tree branch was smacking you straight in the arm. Yelping in surprise and a flash of pain, you don’t have time to deal with it right now. Horse jogging along the fence, a few moments pass and, you hear it- the baby. Tying Haven up under a tree so she stayed moderately dry, you gave her a peck on her cheek before hopping the fence and following the noise. Through the haze of the rain, there was the calf, stuck under a pile of logs that had fallen. The ground was muddy and slippery so it couldn’t stand up, hooves covered in muck.

“Oh my god, baby!” You gasp in surprise. You really should give the calf a name. What you didn’t see, though, was Chan, who also heard the calf in distress. The rain was so loud you didn’t even hear the stomping of his boots in the mud. His eyes widened in shock. Pet names already? Not that he was complaining. When you completely disregard him and go straight to the calf, he almost facepalms. Of course, the calf. The baby. As you kneeled next to the poor thing to try and help, Chan kneeled beside you. You noticed him for the first time when his muscled arm reached for a log to toss it off the calf.

“This guy just can’t stay out of trouble, huh?” He says, voice strained over the rain and thunder. You huff out a laugh at the situation, reaching for a log.

“Y/n. What is this?” Chan grips your forearm, as if it wasn’t hard for you to breathe already. You glance down, and it’s not mud covering your arm, but blood. A sizable amount of it. Chan’s eyes flit to yours, eyebrows laced with concern. You lock eyes.

“I must’ve hit it or something, I- I don’t know!” You say defensively, breath hitching.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. Let me-” He tapers off, shoulders rolling under his soaked shirt. His deft fingers untie the bandana looped around his belt. Grabbing your arm, he ties the bandana around the wound firmly to slow the bleeding, eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Does that hurt?” He runs a hand against yours, comforting you. His touch was blazing against your skin, soothing against the cold rain. You relished in the touch, wishing you could feel his skin on yours forever.

“No…”

“Good. Just stay there while I get these logs off.”

You didn’t obey his orders. Your mind was running so rampant, you didn’t even register that he was trying to be protective. As if he could just let you run around with an open wound; he wouldn’t be having that. Or, so he thought.

“Hah, as if. Move over.” Against your better judgement, you get up with your good hand, kicking and shoving the waterlogged wood away and into the mud. Chan watched, mouth agape, as you did your own thing. If he didn’t like you before, he definitely loves you now. The furrow in your brow when you focused, and the little huffs of air when you kicked a log to the side. Chan couldn’t help but care for you, but that didn’t mean he thought you needed it. The fact that you, despite your wound, were helping this calf proved to Chan everything he needed to know. The sleepless nights thinking about you, or the hot summer days when he daydreamed about you, wondering if you were taking a well-deserved break. Truth is, he needed you like oxygen. And he hoped you needed him too. He would scream his confession from the tallest mountain if it meant you’d be his. He’d wrangle the meanest bull, clean the entire barn. Anything for you. If only someone had the guts.

The calf was squirming, not helpful at all. It squirmed and whined until the last log was lifted off its hind leg, shakily standing up. Sure enough, the calf ran off. Chan practically leaped over to where you stood, now clutching your arm. His palms engulfed your shoulders, now shivering slightly from the cold, wet shirt.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” You only nodded weakly in response.

Chan didn’t leave your side until he barged into one of the barns, big wooden door groaning in response. He ushered you inside, guiding you to a chair, leaning over your shivering form. His eyes, wide and worried, scanned you for damage. He couldn’t even think about how he could see the silhouette of your body through your soaked shirt, not now at least.

“My horse…” You said, eyes closing in exhaustion. He reached up to a top shelf to grab a blanket, wrapping it around you. If you weren’t so cold, you would have jumped from the close proximity.

“Don’t worry about a thing right now doll, I got it.” He took out his phone from his back pocket, dialing Jisung. A few rings passed.

“YEAH?” Jisung yelled through the pouring rain.

“Do me a favor, run and grab y/n’s horse from the property fence. It’s…” Chan turned his head towards you, silently asking.

“By the big old oak tree and the creek.” Chan relayed the information to Jisung.

“Oh and, if you see a runaway calf, just hold on to it for me,” He added.

“On it, Chan. I think we already found it- Minho! Be gentle with that calf!” Jisung trailed off, and Chan loosed a small smile and hung up. You couldn’t help but smile too.

“How are you feeling, doll?” Chan leaned in close again, holding himself up with an arm against your chair.

“I’m fine, Chan. Stop worrying so much,” You complained. It really did bother you that Chan was so caring, it messed with your head. Chan looked down, at nothing in particular, then back up.

“Sorry doll, can’t do that. You’re too precious to me.” You said nothing, just stared into his rich, brown and inviting eyes. The silence made his heart race. As much as Chan likes to be in control, you were something he couldn’t tame. Not even when you reached up to wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. His breath hitched. His brain short-circuited. He felt like he was going to fall into you, but by some higher power, his arm on the chair held up. His eyes were wide with shock before he realized his face was in your neck, the smell of rain still lingering on your semi-wet hair. Then it hit him: he wasn’t hugging you back. He felt you break away just the slightest bit before he abruptly pulled you back in. As if he would ever let you go now. His arms splayed across your back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions.

“What would I do without you, Chan?” You asked, not fully knowing how Chan was gonna answer. He nuzzled a bit closer, nose and lips brushing against your nape.

“You don’t even have to worry our pretty head about somethin’ like that, cause I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.” He spoke into your neck, the vibrations sending a bolt of electricity down your spine. You hummed in acknowledgement, attempting to bring him impossibly closer.

“I’m cold.” Chan huffed out a chuckle. Could you be any cuter?

Reluctantly, you both pulled away, chan inspecting your bandana-clad arm. The blood had soaked through a bit.

“Let me see if this barn has somethin’ for your arm,” he mumbled to himself, walking over to the rustic cabinets in the corner. The rain pitter-pattered against the roof high above you. He opened each and every one, brows furrowed in concentration. In the lowest cabinet, he kneeled down and reached all the way inside to take out a first-aid kit, covered in dust and cobwebs. He blew the dust off and, of course, it went right into his face. He coughed, and your lips hurt from trying to keep a grin from breaking free. In another cabinet, he must’ve found one of the boy’s old t-shirts, because it was faded and stretched out, but clean nonetheless. Walking back over to you, he pried open the kit and took out some cotton pads and gauze. Gingerly taking your arm in his outstretched palm, his eyes cearched yours for permission. You gave it without a second thought. He made quick work of taking the bandana off and wrapping your wound in something clean. Satisfied with his work, He leaned down and pressed his lips to the gauze.

“A kiss makes everything better, don’t ya think?” There he goes with that teasing grin. You hum in response.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You spoke as he lifted himself up, but before he could, you grabbed him by the shoulders and redirected him to your lips. Chan hummed in delight when your hands slid up to his neck, resting right under his jawline. His lips were pillowy soft, just like you imagined.

Personally, Chan was convinced he was dreaming. It was only when you shivered against him did he come back to reality, grasping the old shirt in his off hand. When you ran out of breath, he spoke.

“Go change into this, doll. Promise you’ll feel a lot warmer.” His gaze didn’t waver, and this time, you listened.

“But where? I don’t see a bathroom.” You stood up, and he couldn’t resist a quick kiss before he answered with a nod to the left.

“There in the corner, unless you wanna strip right here,” He teased, but his eyes were lidded and you swear his gaze darkened like he wasn’t joking.

“Sure, Chan.” Your tone was laced with sarcasm before walking over. When you walked out, Chan was arranging the blanket and some old pillows on a faded couch that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. He changed into something else too, because his soggy work shirt was in a lump on the coffee table. Yours joined the pile too. Chan’s heart almost burst at the sight of you in that tee. The bright red tint to his ears blew his cover. You giggled at his speechless state, tossing yourself onto the couch alongside him. Chan outstretched an arm across your part of the couch, a classic move. It was nearly midnight now, the adrenaline had worn off, and you were tired. The throbbing pain in your arm is disregarded when you have Chan's body emanating such warmth, you couldn’t help but shuffle a little closer and lean against his firm shoulder.

“Thank you, for all your help,” You spoke softly. At those words, Chan left a kiss at the top of your head.

“Anything you need, I’m here.” After that, if he said anything, you didn’t hear it, because your eyelids felt heavy and the soft tap-tap-tap of the rain lulled you to sleep. When you awoke, there was a strong set of arms wrapped around you, and only after a mini panic attack did you remember. Quietly turning your head, the morning sun shone graciously onto Chan’s face, void of any frowns or scowls. Just… serenity. His cowboy hat was on the ground, somewhere, but you couldn’t care when you took a strand of his hair and twirled it through your fingers. Your ears twitched when you heard the creak of the barn door opening, a head poking through and then standing in the doorway. This was Jisung, you think.

“Oh- Sorry guys-” He whispered. But behind him, the click of a camera sounded.

“Just got us some new blackmail,” Minho grinned, poking his head though the barn where his arm was outstretched, holding his phone.

“Get out before Chan gets mad! For your own good!” Your voice was a hushed and hurried whisper. Speaking of the devil, his arms shuffled around your waist.

“Who’s good?” Chan was still groggy when he lifted his head, but ended up dropping it onto your shoulder anyways.

Minho and Jisung booked it out of the barn.

Thanks for reading! Check my masterlist for more!

Warning: Everything I post is 100% my original writing & thoughts. This also includes the moodboards at the beginning that I create. Please do not plagiarize or copy. Tag for inspiration or add-ons. Reblogs are appreciated! <3

#stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids drabbles #skz #bang chan #stray kids fanfic #stray kids bang chan #skz fanfic #christopher bang #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids reader insert #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n

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5st4rde · 5 months

Text

⭐️CL16 “Belle nuit”

Charles Leclerc x oc reader!

Summary: You went on a vacation trip with a close friend to Monaco and while you were there, you had a bit too much fun.

Tag: fluff, oral sex, head top, vanilla sex, edging, rough sex, fucking your brains out, 18+ content.

Vroom…

Just a bunch of small weird-looking cars zooming down the track with watchers getting hyped up, this screams out rich and expensive but who are you to judge when this didn’t come out of your pocket.

Harry managed to get you both VIP tickets that included sitting in the lounge with champagne and meals being served to you which was your favorite part but most of was for him to meet the drivers after the race but mainly because he has a friend that happens to be one of the drivers so he came out to support like the good pal he is plus who who are you to pass up a free way to ticket to Monaco, not this bitch.

You palmed your chest when the lounge area ran wild- Harry leaping out of his chair in pure joy as he applauded and hollered, dabbing the others that were also in the lounge area, from this you assumed someone won from how lively the crowd had gotten. You remained muted then applauded quietly with a small smile, you chugged your champagne down and soon each driver who finished the race stood on the podium. Hmm, all of them were cute.

One in a fully red suit with a Ferrari logo who you guessed came in first coming in second was a caramel-skinned man with locs and a nose piercing- damn he was fine. you didn’t pay much attention to the dude in the orange suit but those two gentlemen caught your eyes.

“That’s Lewis, the friend who I came to support” Harry says pointing at the caramel skinned man, sounding so proud of his friend's victory. You smiled and drowned the remaining last champagne down as you focused on the two good-looking men, Harry led you two downstairs to where all of the drivers would be located after the race.

A few were being questioned and so and so. Harry would stop by every driver he sees congratulating them on their race then follow up on a 20-minute chit-chat talking about sports blah blah blah and there’s you who hardly knows anything about the sport, you only came because you were promised parties and yachts.

“Harry, sorry to bug you but when we-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you were cut short when a male voice called out Harry's name. You sigh annoyingly but straighten your posture when you see who it is- Lewis is the name, you approach you two with a wide smile revealing his gap.

“What a heck of a race out there, mate” Harry dabs him up.

You took the moment to fully study his features, he was slightly tall not the least to Harry. He was tattooed down from head to toe and you have to admit it was the sexiest thing ever, his locs were tied in a back ponytail. He was dressed in a baggy t-shirt with the Mercedes logo printed on it, stylish jeans, and a pair of sneakers. It was then that you realized you were gawking a bit too much once he darted his brown eyes onto you. You were about to extend your hands out to greet yourself but...

“Sorry hun, not doing autographs at the moment” Lewis says.

You lift a brow with your arms folded, and you grimace at the thought of you being desperate for a simple autograph from a man you hardly knew. He practically disregarded whatever you were going to say then returned back to your friend Harry.

“Excuse me?” You asked feeling a bit offended. You shot Harry a hard glare gesturing for him to get his boy before your mouth made a scene and you’re pretty sure Harry had seen that side of you before.

“U-Uhm Lewis, this was the friend I was telling you about who I brought along” Harry was quick to say, Lewis eyed you up and down with a speck of attitude on his face as a light chuckle escaped from his mouth. You deepened your brows even more with your arms crossed not believing what you were seeing.

“So what, you too good to have manners now” You remarked with a scoff, he furrowed his brows at the statement as he stepped closer attempting to look intimidating. He doesn’t know where you're from for him to be pulling that kind of stunt, he’d get shot up real quick.

“Says the little lady that came here with a bitchy ass attitude… Harry, you should know better to bring someone-”

“Listen here you big melon forehead, I hardly know you unless God himself or my momma is saying shit about me so I suggest you tone that shit down or-” You spat before you were getting ready to end your sentence.

“My Goodness! what’s all of the ruckus about” A deep voice spoke, all of the anger that was building in your muscles suddenly vanished when a man a lot taller than Harry and Mr Melon came into the picture with a lingering smirk on his face. He wore a white button shirt with the Mercedes logo on it, his sleeves were rolled up allowing you to get a glimpse of his arm, and can’t forget how perfectly that top hugged his biceps.

“Lewis, what are you still standing here for, go on now”

Lewis grunts storming off while penetrating a deep glare at you as he walks off, a moment of pause before the three of you all burst out a tear of laughter. He looks like a toddler who just threw a tantrum from someone telling him no. Harry did his bickering before he politely introduced me to the man- hmm, let alone how incredibly charming he is from head to toe.

“Hi, I’m Mel” You greeted with a smile.

“I’m Toto Wolff but you can just call me Toto, doll” He took your hand and slowly turned it around to lay a peck as he set a glare on you. You lightly blushed at the nickname he had already given you, he winked and smiled so widely causing you to return a smile.

"Nice meeting you, Mel. I hope to see you two at the party tonight, no?" He says, directing at Harry “Mel, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you” He smirks, walking backward as his eyes lock in with yours feeling chills coursing down your spine. He winks then proceeds to make his exit leaving the two of us alone, you sense the skeptical stare shooting your way from Harry. You shrugged it off and mouthed ‘what’ as you both took your leave.

•

You were in your hotel room getting ready for tonight, Harry knew a few people to assure us of a luxurious hotel room that included a wide balcony view of the beach side with a nice jacuzzi. The bathroom was massive with a larger mirror that was practically the size of your room back home and a slide-in door shower. You glared at yourself in the mirror admiring how well the dress hugged every crack and bone of your shape. It'll have people in a chokehold at the way you look right now.

“Mel are you-” Harry nearly choked on his words as he walked in, he took a moment to gaze at the dress. You fluffed out the curls of your hair, trying to manage to keep this wig on for spare time but you relished how good your hairstylist melted down your edges.

“I'm ready” You assured, grabbing your phone. Harry was still eyeing you, he's seen you dressed up before but he couldn't figure out when was the last you were ever dressed up big like this. Usually, you'd just throw on a simple shirt and jeans with your hair in jumbo braids be done with. College really took a poll on you. You hurriedly slipped on your lace-up heels and you looked majestic, after you were one, he led you two into the elevator.

"The chauffeur is here" He declares, tapping on his Apple watch.

You slightly widened your eyes at the fact he said you two were going to be escorted by a chauffeur. Now that's a move, you thought. Harry offered his arm and you grinned up at him when you happily interlocked yours with his. As of right now, you two were receiving episodes of glares from all around the lobby curious as to who were two were. Nonetheless, it was more of a compliment knowing the both of you looked damn good tonight. You both settled in real quick once you got in and immediately drove off and just a few minutes you arrived. You furrowed your brows and shot Harry a glare when you noticed how incredibly long the line was.

Harry lent a hand to help you out, adjusting your dress a bit before you two walked up to the bouncer. Harry had gone up to speak with the man and in just a blink of an eye, you were already in. The music was so loud, that you could feel it vibrating in your chest, and could hardly get through this hungry crowd but Harry made sure to hold your hand just so he didn't lose you. It wasn’t until you released a heavy scoff followed by an eye roll melon head came into your view dabbing up Harry. His whole expression died down as soon as he darted his eyes to you, seizing you up and down with a look of disgrace.

“I see you brought little miss fiesty” He remarks.

“Harry, control your little pest” You spat, growing agitated at the sight of him, and the longer he was in your presence the more you just want to rip those damn locs out from his scalp. Harry notices your expression and pulls you aside turning his back towards him, melon head assures Harry where he was going to be if he ever wants to find him.

“I’m really sorry about him, do you want a drink?”

“You know what, go enjoy yourself with your friends, I’ll be okay” You said to him, your eyes never leaving the mysterious man who had already dominated the eye contact with a smirk on his face from across the room. At first, Harry was uncertain whether or not it was a good idea to leave you by yourself but you assured him that you'll be okay. He pecks your forehead and watches him fly upstairs to his friend with a wide smile spreading across his face. You walked over to the bar and sat on the stool, you were startled when someone breathed fan over your ears.

“My, you have such beauty on you”

You followed the direction of the voice and locked in with a pair of blue eyes. He had to bend down to level with you which indicates he was a lot taller than you. Your brain functioned a bit later when you recognized he was on the podium and my my my, you had to admit he was breathtaking up close. He's miraculously charming.

“Why did your boyfriend leave you alone, he should know men tend to thirst for pretty women like you”

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend but I appreciate the compliment” You chuckled with a smile suddenly feeling hot from the intense eye contact he had on you, licking his lips in the process as he raked them up and down on your dress.

“So am I lucky enough to buy the beautiful woman a drink? ” He asks, smiling softly exposing his dimples.

You nodded and he whistled for the bartender's attention to start on his order, you scanned around the dance floor and noticed how hyped everyone seemed to be. Most of the drivers up located in the VIP lounges, surprised enough he's the only one down here hitting on a girl like yourself- consider it to be lucky. You hadn't realized he was already gawking at you with a smile on his face, his doe eyes peered into yours the moment you looked back at him.

“Do you have a name I can call you apart from beautiful?” He asks, earning a chuckle from you. You politely grab the drink and thank him.

“Mel, what about you, handsome?” You asked softly, taking a sip of the drink.

“Charles, so now that I got the beautiful lady a drink and her name, would she at least come dance with me?” He asks, you chugged your drink down immediately and he quirks his brows up slightly taken back from the sight of this, quite impressive while at it. He tugs your hand and leads you both to the center of the floor.

Get Low by Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz starts playing.

A bottle of adrenaline sparked in your bones the minute you heard the first few beats, you instantly start grinding your hip on him while his hands slowly travels down to cup your ass. He bit his lips at how majestic and soft your cheeks felt in his hand, he never had anything like this before. You smirked at this when he began to caress it, he then spins you around leaving your ass directly on his crotch.

You let him dominate your body all night and here you are worrying if he knew how to dance or not but it seemed to you he got a little bit of spice in him from the way he was moving. In one swift motion, you were facing him, and oh, those eyes made you melt even more. You lost track of the amount of times he rubbed on your ass but he loved every second of it. His hand gently laced around your neck slowly leaning in to crash his lips on yours, tasting the sweet but bitter alcohol around your lips. You were driving him crazy. He parted his mouth allowing you to invite your tongue as you started dominating the kiss not knowing you woke up a beast inside of him.

No woman he's kissed before ever felt so delicate and passionate as you.

You pulled away and had to slap the senses back into your head that you two were making out in the middle of the floor. To him, he couldn't care less but the fact kissing you was enough to light the ignition inside of him said otherwise. He licks his swollen lips as he gazes down at you with droopy low eyes, the red light flashing on him giving him that luscious look- almost as if he wanted to ravage you.

"You want to hit back at my place?" You ask, showering pecks all over his neck. The small gesture made him shudder instantly. He nodded his head and you pulled his wrist through the crowd making one final stop before you. guys leave.

“Harry!” You tried to call out, Harry's ears flicked when he heard your voice and quickly came to rush over to your side. His cheeks were beet red from the amount of alcohol he consumed but it was good to know he's still sober to be aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened when noted that Charles flushed his body against yours.

"I see you met my dear friend" Harry says to Charles, the two laugh and dab each other.

"You never told me how gorgeous and fine your friend is, Harry" Charles smiles directing his gaze at you, returning a smile back at him. Your eyes glowered around the area but paused for a while when it landed on melon head who was already looking in your way with a menacing glare.

“Careful Leclerc, this one might bite” He makes a slick comment, sipping out of his bottle.

“You sound pathetic as hell” I shot back with an eye roll. He chuckles amusingly with a smirk on his face.

“I sound pathetic… that dress looks more pathetic maybe because it’s on you” His voice spiked with frustration, might’ve hit a nerve in that spot, it was kind of funny if you really looked at it that way.

“So does that big melon head of yours” You countered.

He abruptly stood up tossing the bottle somewhere with a deep frown on his face and here you were being bold and big when you nearly forgot how tall he was but you took that back as soon as Charles stepped in between scooting you behind him, his hand never leaving your waist and you must admit, you can feel your panties dampening from how hot he looks.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, mate” Charles warned in a deep voice you never knew sounded more attractive.

“Lewis… let’s air this outside but not in here” Harry pulled his arm back. Lewis's brows deepened as he formed a fist nearly piping a vein, you could radiate a very serious rage coming out of him from that hard glare he was shooting your way as Charles made sure he wouldn’t dare pull a stunt.

“Tell your girl to not tempt me because I tend to get reckless with my mouth, let this be a final warning, shit won't be sweet” His tone was light than before, and you felt a small breeze brush past you when he stormed off sensing an incredible rush of anger coming from him.

“I apologize for-”

“No worries, I’m quite used to his attitude anyways” He brushed it off releasing a breathless laugh with Harry. Harry averted his gaze from you, checking to see if you were alright like the overprotective brother he had always been.

“Don’t think just because you’re a driver doesn’t mean you get to harm her, I’m armed…” He harshly warned with his words being slurred. You do hope Lewis keeps on a watch for this man but he’s such a jerk and so uptight you can’t even say not one word without him mean mugging.

“Harry, you’re harassing the man already. I’ll be fine, just please ease up on the drinking and be careful” You said, removing the bottle from his hand but thankfully his other friend came to his side reassuring you he’d keep a good eye on him. You graciously thanked him with a wide smile and rushed out of the club with Charles trailing behind closely.

-------

Once the room card is inserted, the small pad flashes green allowing the door to fly open with him trailing behind you. He just couldn’t wait any further to crash his soft lips onto yours, he was more than ready to have you tonight. Your legs levitated from the ground wrapping themselves around him as you have no clue where he was taking the both of you. You felt a soft cushion against your back leaving him on top, your kisses deepened passionately with the intrusion of yall tongues, and boy was your cunt throbbing already, when he moves to another spot, it sent electric shocks all over your body wanting him more.

He cups your right breast then starts sensually sucking and biting on certain parts of your neck, your eyes shut feeling every satisfaction aching in your bone. You grew anticipated when he suddenly stopped but then you realized he was hovering over you when you opened your eyes to meet his bright blue doe eyes- he was yearning for you just as much you are for him, his hair was fluff out from the tugging you did, his face flushing pink and his lips swollen and red from the sucking you've been doing.

“You are absolutely gorgeous” He whispers in that accent you so loved. He pulls down your strap to expose your breast, feeling the cold breeze fan on your nipples. He darts his eyes down at your exposed boobs licking his lips as he relishes in the sight of them beautifully sitting on your chest. Nothing makes your cunt cries out more than a man that truly takes his time to admire you. You push him aside to stand in front of him removing the remains of your dress, you sashay his hips towards him throwing your leg over as you sit on him.

“Putain de merde”

“You can do whatever you want with me tonight, I’m all yours” You said, leaving wet kisses all over his ear as your hands began to travel, you had no idea why he still had on clothes so you lent a hand to remove his clothes for him only leaving him in his boxers where a tent was visible. His face flushed a redder shade embarrassed that he was already hard rock solid. You grinned lightly when the little jumper sprung out of his boxers, your mouth was watery as you took the time to stare at it. It was a pretty pink color with precum decorating the tip like little balls of pearls.

“It hurts… real bad” He whimpers. A jumpstart to quake the ground down there.

Your hands can hardly wrap around his jumper which requires the use of two hands. His eyes were shut urging for you to take him in already, he was more than yearning for your pretty lips to wrap around the throbbing jumper. You started showering it with kisses all while stroking slowly and his facial expression became your favorite part. Playing with his jumper and watching as he got excited quirked up your adrenaline, you decided to stop playing tricks with him and took him whole in your head as you bopped your head continuously twirling your tongue in the process. His moans were music to your ears that you hit replay all day, it’s so soft yet sweet which urged you to touch yourself as you fasten up the pace.

“M-Mel… Putain d'enfer ” He choked out, his lips parted open as his head leaned all the way back.

He sings in your ears with his alluring moans and just as you expect he explodes in your mouth, not that it bothers you but it was so warm against your tongue. You pulled away and looked up at him with his mess all over your face as his juice dripped down on my tits. Despite looking like a total mess, he wraps his hand around your neck and pulls you into a kiss as he leads you onto his lap where you feel his tip tempting your core. His hands wander their way in between my thigh and you melted the moment his cold fingers start caressing my clit you urged to grind my hips let alone a moan that escaped from your mouth as he paced faster.

Before you could even run away, he switched position leaving you underneath as he continued flickering your most sensitive part. you were moaning like a mess careless to whoever could’ve heard you, your arms were pinned above your head rather harshly. You gasped and scrunched your face when he pushed another finger in, his thumb rubbing on your clit sensually. You leaned your head back feeling that sweet sensation coursing all over your vein once he found that spot.

“Look at me, mon amour”

His voice was like bittersweet milk in your ears.

“Vous avez un goût délicieux”

You knew it was a bad idea to look into his alluring eyes, he leans down inserting his tongue into your mouth. He pulls away trailing kisses down until he gets in between your thighs, tracing wet kisses along your ankle and you could’ve felt his warm breath fanning against your opening that was itching to be raw fucked. You felt your heart skip through the bottom depths of your ass from the lingering stare he had on you combined with the pecks he planted on your ankles, he grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders where you could see a glimpse of his biceps flexing.

You arched your back when you felt his wet tongue against your folds, if you knew one thing about him, he wouldn’t miss a show to watch his effect on you. Every lick he does fires up the engine in you and he loves the sound that comes out of you, a tear sheds down your cheeks as you can't hold the pressure that's growing in your cunt. He restrained your legs from moving, and you couldn’t do anything but squirm underneath him as he practically made out with your desperate wet lips that were aching to be touched. Just the sight of his head moving practically making out with your pussy did it all for you as you arrived at your peak.

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hair even tighter due to the fact he was still devouring your aching cunt even though you had come to your peak which made you squirm underneath, your moans were becoming louder and louder as he dived deep into your core. Your breathing was hyperventilated with your lips parted, you could hear the sound of him slurping every droplet of your juice as you were coming to your second release.

He pulls away and you couldn't help but smile from the sight of the connected strip of your juice on his lips as well the mess all over his face from you squirting. He makes his way back up to you and then holds your face before he kisses you slowly and delicately, slightly taken back from how good you tasted off his tongue but then you interrupt the kiss with a moan when he suddenly enters you sparking up the flame down your spine, he started with slow strokes as he was allowing you to adjust to him. You can't lie, it did sting a bit considering the fact you hadn't done anything in a while now. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck as one hand held your waist down in place and the other one pinned both of your wrists above your head rolling his hips into yours.

"C'mon baby, you got to let me go" His voice strained.

You felt a fireball glazing over you after each thrust he made, in one blink of an eye, you were flipped over laying flat on your stomach. His voice, his intoxicating scent, his touch- all were driving you insane. He knew how to fuck you good, he loves seeing that face you make whenever he hits that sweet spot of yours, you gripped the fabric of the carpet holding on to your dear life as he relentlessly stroked your desperate pussy.

"Fuckkkk..." You cried out.

He slips out a deep groan mixing in with your moans as he loved the sight of his shaft combining with your juice, he knew you had arrived at your release but of course that didn't stop him from working you out. He grabbed a hold of your neck bringing you up until your back was flushed against his toned chest. Two of his fingers began to rub your clit while he sensually pounded into you at an incredible pace and the other hand fondled one of your breasts, he sucked and toyed with your neck leaving your brain fucked. The lovely music of y'all skin slapping and you singing in his ears was just the sweetest thing.

He held your face making you look into his, the sight of the lustful frown on his sweaty face made you even drunker around his cock. He lingered the eye contact as he rammed vigorously inside of you, he halted in between his thrusts making sure you felt how violently he was to your G-spot. Your toes bent and curled as your body quivered hinting you were coming to your peak, he beats your pussy rather slow and hard as you made a mess on his wet glaze shaft. You were struggling with your words and he was enjoying every last of it, amused at how weak and fragile you looked underneath him.

He trembled but he didn't pull out as you felt his warm juice released inside you, just the view of his sweaty pack and stringy hair that was sticking against his forehead was beating you up surely as for him your body covered in his release was a bonus look on you. He fixes his eyes on you acknowledging your beautiful sculpture as the moonlight peeks through the blinds shining on you, he looks at you like you're the finest jewel he laid his hands upon. Tracing curves and lines of every part of your body, you became shy from the intense gaze he had on you.

“Tu es belle ma jolie fille”

It sounded so vanilla and sweet, that you hardly could've kept your eyes open as you slowly drifted off to sleep. He carries you in a bridal style over to the bed gently bringing the sheets over your sore body, he joins you and soon rests his eyes, nuzzling his arms around you. You squirmed a bit until you were comfortably underneath him and you both slept throughout the entire night with his arms wrapped around you til the next morning.

#smut #f1 x reader #random #charles leclerc #imagine #18+ mdni #cl16 x you #oc x character #formula 1 #.edit #last minute #first post #monaco #5st4rrwrites

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vetteltea · 10 months

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Mick Schumacher and The Sound of Snow Crunching [no warnings]

Day 8 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

The Schumacher ranch was never on your list of potential places you would be staying in the build-up to Christmas.

Originally, your best friend had insisted on you coming, if only for a few days. However, nature had a cruel way of adjusting plans; a freakish snowstorm had suspended all travel out of the area; with the weather not expected to calm until days after the big day, it was almost certain you would be spending an impromptu Christmas day with Gina. Her mother had been all-too excited, reminding you that you had always been part of the family, either way.

And then…there was Mick.

You were no stranger to your best friend’s younger brother; when you were five and he was three, he had shyly offered you a flower, stolen from his mother’s garden in a sweet attempt of showing you his affection. Gina had immediately shouted at her brother to leave you alone, you were her friend, after all.

His undying crush never ceased; even after you moved away for school and he was engrossed into karting, he lived for the days you would attend one of Gina’s competitions, accompanying her to see Mick driving across all different global locations. Had it been a coincidence that his first points scored had been whilst you were in attendance? He wasn’t sure, he just knew it was an outright joy for you to be there.

He adored having you around, secretly punching the air with his fist when Corinna had insisted you stay for the big day, promising they would do their utmost to get you back to your own family as soon as possible.

Mick hadn’t had a moment to speak to you without Gina or his parents present, not until right now. It was late, the only reason he had left his bed was to let Angie outside after her persistent whining. The youngest Schumacher was only dressed in his joggers and a soft t-shirt, pulling on his boots as he reached the french doors to the porch.

He suspended for a moment, entranced by two things. The first was the snow; it had become heavier, the weather report had been correct when it had been insistent there would be a White Christmas. Standing in the snow, body dipped in the automatic lights from the porch, was you.

You were only dressed in your pajamas, head tilted to watch the delicate snowflakes fall from the dark sky. You must have been freezing, though clearly the temperature wasn't affecting your trance onto the weather. Mick could have stood there forever, simply watching as the girl he had adored since he was a toddler stood looking ethereal.

Angie however, had other plans. The crunch of the blanket of snow underneath paws drawed you from your moment, head snapping to see the puppy bound through the snow, letting out a delighted bark upon seeing another friend outside. You can’t help but laugh, the furry bundle jumping up, clearly delighted in the weather.

A second pair of footsteps are echoing around your ears, turning your attention away from Angie and seeing the blonde-haired boy step through the ankle-deep snow to stand by your side, his companion only continuing to burrow through the soft snow.

“You must be freezing.” Mick comments, his gaze fixed on you whilst your own watches Angie, leaping through the snow.

“I am…” You trail off, foot lifting, the snow falling off your shoe. “But I haven’t seen snow like this in so long…I wanted to experience it.” You realize how incredibly sad that must sound, but Mick shakes his head, lifting one arm to rest around your shoulder and pull you closer. He’s taller than you now, not the acne-prone teenager you had watched on a Go-Karting track. Broad, warm, and so incredibly handsome.

“I get it. You still don’t get much snow, do you?” He remembers the conversation you had at dinner the previous night, how his mother wanted to know every detail of your new life, how it must have changed so much from when you were a young girl in pigtails. You had shaken your head in response, looking up to Mick’s features, now impossibly close to yours.

“No. We don’t get…much of…” You trail off, attention lost as Mick’s lips draw closer to yours. He may have been Gina’s brother, but at that moment, he is so much more, and right now? His lips drawing and brushing against yours in the snow is all you can think about. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, the arm which had rested around your shoulder only pulling you closer, bodies pushed closer to one another.

When he pulls away, his lips stay millimeters away, hot breath fanning over your skin as he giggles, he giggles. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

#Mick Schumacher #MS47 #Mick Schumacher x Reader #Mick Schumacher Imagine #Mick Schumacher One Shot #Mick Schumacher x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Mick Schumacher Blurb #Mick Schumacher x Y/N

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drivinmeinsane · 1 year

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{ requests :: maybe } ※ { ao3 } ※ { last updated :: May. 13th, 2024 }

All my works for this blog are related in some way to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Be aware that many of the fanfictions and thoughts contain content that is 18+ in nature. Please do not engage with those posts if you are a minor.

My inbox and messages are always open! ♥

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Shot Through the Heart } ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader ※ ao3

You've worked with Colt off and on for years, building an easy rapport with the stuntman. The rest of the crew sends you to check up on him after he's bad off following a stunt that seems to have caused his nearly career-ending injury to act up.

{ Moves } ※ Colt Seavers x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

On unsteady feet and with linked arms, you and Colt stumble along in the sand. You’re hanging onto each other. The warmth of the man at your side is almost more intoxicating than the beer you’ve been sipping all night long. The ocean is refreshingly cool against your ankles as you trail through the lapping waves, shoes and socks clasped firmly in your hands.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Golden Hour ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader Playtime ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader Scene Partner ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader ※ 18+

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ I Do Nothing but Think of You } ※ Driver ※ ao3 ※ 18+

He can't eat. He can't sleep. He's obsessed and restless. What else is there to do but go for a drive?

{ Under Pressure } ※ Driver ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Driver is feeling under the weather. Blaming the oppressive Los Angeles heat for the tightness in his chest, the mechanic leaves in the middle of his shift to try to recover only to receive a shock when it turns out to be something that he should be utterly incapable of.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Choking ※ Driver x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request} 18+ Clumsy Stalking ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request} 18+ Maintenance ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 Repercussions ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request}

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Driver ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D }. ※

Driver ※ "There's no good sharks?" Driver ※ Werewolf!AU

※ .{ F A N A R T }. ※

Werewolf!AU Driver screenshot study

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Birthday Boy } ※ Officer K x Joi ※ ao3

Officer K does not often find himself surprised. He was made to be clearheaded and adaptable, able to get a read on most situations at a glance. Joi is a true wildcard in his life. She elicits feelings from him that he never could have predicted. As a result, he finds himself floundering in the wake of an unexpected gesture.

{ Somebody to You } ※ Officer K x GN!Reader ※ ao3

With a tremor threatening to shake his body, he slips his fingers under the edge of his shirt sleeve and pulls it up to his elbow. His soulmark is laid bare before your eyes. The wound that he had left in his own skin when he had tried to carve out the design has faded to a raised, pale line. “That wasn’t there before,” you murmur, taking his forearm in your hands. Your pointer finger traces over the scar.

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Officer KD6-3.7 ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Officer K's jacket

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Crimson Headache } ※ Sierra Six x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

You wonder something about Six. Will he allow himself to surrender to what he really wants?

{ Leap of Faith } ※ Sierra Six (solo) ※ ao3

What if the escape mission had gone a little differently? No outcomes are certain. No one is impervious to fault.

{ Witness in the Dark } ※ Sierra Six x Claire's Sister!Reader ※ ao3

Don't we all just want to feel the companionable reassurance of another human being?

It only takes a single tragedy to tear your life to shreds and make it to where you're unable to sleep through the night. You tell yourself that you will never trust a bodyguard again, but things don't go according to plan when a man with a number for a name is assigned to the Fitzroy household while your uncle is away.

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Sierra Six ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D S }. ※

Sierra Six ※ Just another Thursday."

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Sierra Six's tattoos

※ .{ DRIVER x KEN } ※ { ONESHOT }

{ Draw Me In } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Ken's insatiable curiosity leads to a messy outcome when he fails to give Driver any semblance of personal space.

{ Take You In Real Slow } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+ 🕊

He twists his house key in the door and turns the knob to open it. Locked. Adjusting the basket resting against his hip, he frowns and tries his key again. The door unlocks this time. The knob is slippery in his grasp. When he pulls his hand away, it’s covered in more of that red stuff from the elevator.

{ The Way You Stare } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Ken has never learned the importance of being patient. His efforts to be the sole recipient of Driver's steady focus earn him a hard and frustrating lesson from a man who is not very composed himself.

※ .{ DRIVER x KEN } ※ { MOODBOARDS}

Driver x Ken ※ "I'm thinking 'bout how I want to see you in some kinda lip gloss. Might feel sticky and gritty if I kissed you. Bet you would look pretty, just like now. All pink. Sparkly."

※ .{ OFFICER K x SIERRA SIX } ※ { MULTI-CHAPTER }

{ Eyes Always Searching } ※ Officer K x Sierra Six ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Unpleasantly, K feels the return of the drowning sensation he had felt earlier. It is almost as though someone had placed a mirror in front of him in a dream. The reflection is him, but distinctly not. ※ chapter one: In some Sad Way ※ chapter two: I Already Know ※ chapter three: I Will Not Ask You, Neither Should You

※ .{ OFFICER K x SIERRA SIX } ※ { MOODBOARDS }

Officer K x Sierra Six ※ K places his right hand on the table beside his guest’s. He can feel the warmth of his fellow Nexus sink into his own skin. He swallows, pulse jumping. The hand not on the table clenches around his thigh. His nails dig into the outer seam of his pants. “What was your most shameful moment? ” the baseline mocks at him in his mind. He can’t do it. He can’t bridge the gap. He can’t-

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Bad Dog } ※ Ken x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

You have volunteered to give Ken a lesson in being a good dog. It takes a firm hand to get positive results.

※ .{ M U L T I C H A P T E R }. ※

{ Ocean Boulevard } ※ Holland March x Merman!Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Struggling, he can’t seem to reach the surface no matter how hard he paddles upwards. He’s going to die down here if he can’t cover any distance. He’d failed to take in any air when he went over on account of knocking himself senseless. Making a mistake, Holland looks down and sees the darting shadow of a pointed dorsal fin. Shark. There’s a fucking shark in the water with him.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Frequently Bought Together ※ Ken & GN! Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request}

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Henry Letham ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Holland March ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Lars Lindstrom ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Ryan Gosling!Ken ※ Partner Headcanons (bad end) ※ 18+ Ryan Gosling!Ken ※ Partner Headcanons (good end) ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D S }. ※

Henry Letham※ "If this is a dream, then the whole world is inside it." Holland March ※ "I had to question the mermaids." Ken ※ "Every night is boy's night." Ken ※ "To be honest, when I found out the patriarchy wasn't about horses, I lost interest anyways." Ken ※ "What will it take for her to see the man behind the tan?" Sebastian Wilder ※ "Are you shining just for me?"

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Favorite Ryan Gosling movies {ask} Favorite pairings for Ryan Gosling characters {ask}

※ .{ HOLIDAY & EVENT COLLECTIONS }. ※

{ 12 Days of Goosemas } ※ 2023 ※ ao3 ※ 18+

This is a collection of twelve fanfictions all under two thousand words each and all pertaining to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Not all of these works are directly intended to be Christmas themed, but they are all set in the month of December and have some seasonal vibes! 01 ※ { Hot Chocolate } ※ Officer K / Reader 02 ※ { Christmas Movie } ※ Driver / Ken 03 ※ { Winter Break }※ Henry Letham / Reader 04 ※{ Snow }※ Sierra Six / Reader 05 ※ { Holiday Party }※ Julian Thompson / Reader ※ 18+ 06 ※ { Decorating }※ Sebastian Wilder / Reader 07 ※ { Alone }※ Driver / Reade 08 ※ { Lights } ※ Holland March / Jackson Healy 09 ※ { Cookies} ※ Driver / Ken※ 18+ 10 ※ { Snowstorm } ※ Colt Seavers / Reader 11 ※ { New Year }※ Henry Letham / Sam Foster 12 ※ { Mistletoe } ※ Driver / Reader ※ 18+

※ .{ THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT SERIES }. ※

A collaborative series written with @danime25 centered around the relationship between Holland March and Jackson Healy.

{ Give Me the Night } ※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

What if Healy had broken Holland's right arm instead of his left? Like most jobs involving stakeouts, the night is going by slowly. That all takes a turn, however, when Holland March, pent up and frustrated, finally pushes his fellow detective too far. Part one of the Butterfly Effect Series. (Can be read as a standalone)

{ Don't Go Breaking My Heart } ※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Even during the most wonderful time of the year, Holland March can't help but be clumsy. A stressful hospital trip to set the detective's re-fractured arm leads an unfortunate revelation about his relationship with Jackson Healy. Part two of the Butterfly Effect Series. (Can be read as a standalone) ※ chapter one: It's Up to Us // ao3 ※ chapter two: I Think We Can Make It // ao3 ※ 18+

※ .{ C R E D I T S }. ※

{ headers } ※ @drivinmeinsane { 18+ divider } ※ @cafekitsune { foliage dividers } ※ @saradika-graphics

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tinav73 · 8 months

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#christianity #jesus christ #grace&faith #christian gift #kairos #birthday gift #leap year gift #leap year birthday gift #custom leap year gift #personalized leap year gift #custom leap year t-shirt #personalized leap year t-shirt #christian tee #christian t shirt #leap for joy t-shirt #Luke 6:23 t-shirt #leap frog

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anxiousstark · 11 months

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A Lull in Our Symphony | E. M

Eddie x Deaf!Reader (cochlear implant). Word Count: 2k Genre: Fluff and cosy vibes. A/N: This was going to be a brief post, but here it is. I had a dream about it and couldn't get it out of my head. I looked into ASL and cochlear implants. I hope I was able to correctly and respectfully represent it. This was inspired by a dream I had and numerous videos I'd seen online about how people take breaks from wearing their cochlear implants. All Rights Reserved. The author, me, does not allow any type of copy or adaption. BIG MASTERLIST

Eddie walked through the door of his trailer after another day of tinkering at the repair shop, expecting the usual warmth and familiarity that awaited him. But today, something felt amiss. The living room light had inexplicably gone dark. It was an unusual sight because, typically, he would find you nestled beneath a soft blanket, absorbed in the glow of the television.

Eddie couldn't help but admire the graceful way you watched those programs. The square television set was notorious for its fickle signal, often reducing the picture to black-and-white and distorting the sound. Yet, amidst these technical hiccups, there you were, radiating joy, arms wide open, eager for a hug or a loving embrace.

He'd occasionally try to escape, claiming he was sweaty and smelling of oil. But you had a knack for sidling up to him, playfully reminding him of the wonders of a shared shower. After a few minutes or even hours of cradling each other, you both would leap into the shower, washing away the day's grime and worries.

So, on this particular evening when Eddie entered the trailer and didn't find you in your usual spot, a sense of uncertainty and discomfort washed over him. He wondered if you were perhaps feeling unwell, and that thought weighed heavily on his mind.

Eddie carefully placed his keys on a small porcelain dish perched atop the television, ensuring they made no noise as they settled on the surface. He didn't want to disturb you. With the same intent, he removed his work boots and lined them up by the front entrance.

Stealthily, he moved to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a can of soda, downing it hastily as if his throat had transformed into a desert. The shock of the cold rushed through him, which was strange considering the refrigerator's unreliable cooling. More than once, he had been forced to discard spoiled food due to its fluctuating temperatures.

After disposing of the empty soda can, Eddie made his way to the shared room he and you called your own, all the while reminiscing about the day you had moved in with him and Uncle Wayne. In this tiny trailer, space was scarce, but it was a temporary haven. He knew that you both had dreams of a more secure and spacious flat in the future, something that would truly be home. But, for now, this trailer served as your residence, shared with Uncle Wayne.

Eddie's brow furrowed with confusion as he stood before the locked bedroom door. He gently rapped on it three times, a familiar signal to let you know it was him. However, this time, there was no response. It was then that realization slowly crept over him. The absence of your welcoming presence in the dimly lit living room, combined with his bedroom door shut tight, tugged at his heartstrings. His heart ached as he began to piece together what had happened.

Eddie cautiously pushed the door ajar, just enough to slip through, careful not to intrude on your privacy. His hand fumbled in the dim light, finding the switch, and he began to flash the lights on and off, a silent signal that he was there. A soft voice permitted his entry.

Inside the room, you lay on the shared bed, clad in nothing but a pair of silky pink panties and one of his countless Hellfire T-shirts. The bedsheet, a gentle embrace for your feet, formed a delicate, artistic mess. Eddie couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty as he entered the room, his heart silently echoing the question, "How did I ever get so lucky to catch your attention?" If only he knew how fortunate you felt to have captured his heart.

Eddie moved further into the room, a warm smile gracing his lips as he noticed the slight pout on yours.

Eddie quietly shed his jacket and shirt, feeling a slight shiver pass through his body, whether due to the temperature shift or the intensity of your gaze, which explored his exposed chest and abdomen. It wasn't a look of desire, but rather one filled with admiration and respect. The love shining in your eyes conveyed a multitude of unspoken emotions.

Eddie continued undressing, removing his pants and socks until only his boxers remained. As he neared the bed, you raised your right arm, revealing a hair tie encircling your wrist. Eddie took it gently, his fingers brushing against your skin, and used it to secure his hair into a tousled, low ponytail.

His affectionate gaze traveled over your body, from your covered toes to your eyes. Then he extended his non-dominant hand, palm up, and used his dominant hand to tap his non-dominant hand's fingers several times. He furrowed his brow, widened his eyes, and conveyed a sense of frustration and concern on his face, underlining the emotion. "Overwhelmed?" A simple nod was your response, and he didn't need to look far to notice your cochlear implant resting on the side table next to the shared bed. Eddie understood the challenges you faced, and he often felt a profound sense of helplessness whenever he saw you struggling with agitation, fear, or the overwhelming sounds surrounding you.

Eddie's pout deepened, and he moved his open hand in a small circular motion near his chest, palm facing downward. Then, he formed a "B" handshape by tucking his thumb into his palm and extending his index and pinky fingers. He gently pressed the "B" handshape against his cheek, gradually moving it lower, as if caressing his cheek with his fingertips, conveying a heartfelt "I'm sorry, baby."

In response, you mouthed, "It's okay," reluctant to shift your hands or speak aloud. Eddie couldn't bear to see you in such distress. He vividly remembered that night when you had sat weeping on the bathroom floor, overwhelmed by the cacophony of new sounds you had never heard before. You had confided your fear of never getting accustomed to them and feeling ungrateful.

With a soft sigh, Eddie's right hand gently squeezed your favorite spot on your thigh, seeking physical reassurance. He raised his eyebrows, displaying a puzzled expression. He brought his hand to his chin, palm facing upward, then moved it away from his chin, forming a loose "5" handshape with his fingers slightly apart. Next, he held his dominant hand in a "C" handshape, akin to the "OK" sign, and touched it to the back of his non-dominant hand, held in a "flat" or "B" handshape with the palm facing up. Finally, he pointed to himself with his index finger and positioned both hands in "5" handshapes, palms facing downward, moving them downward and outward, as if extending an offer of assistance. "How can I help?"

Eddie's eyes glistened as he closely observed your signs. You held your hands in a relaxed "5" handshape with palms facing each other, then brought them together as if softly caressing or cuddling something. You raised your eyebrows at the end of the sign, inquiring if he wanted to cuddle.

"Of course," he replied, this time articulating his words so that you could read his lips. Eddie had started tying back his hair when he began dating you, ensuring that his curls didn't obstruct your ability to understand him. "Do you want to talk about what happened first?"

As you began to sign passionately, conveying your frustration and anxiety, Eddie couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. He had only recently started learning American Sign Language (ASL) as soon as he found out about your deafness. Books and resources became his companions as he embarked on this journey to better communicate with you. Even now, he occasionally stumbled or forgot certain signs, but your patient instruction had brought him a long way in a short time.

After momentarily drifting into his thoughts, he snapped back to the present, noticing your shocked expression and your rapid signing. You could speak, but when stressed, you felt more at ease using signs, especially when communicating with someone who understood ASL.

Your explanation began to make sense to him. The fridge produced an unusual and terrifying noise, a sound Eddie and Uncle Wayne couldn't perceive. In your pre-implant life, placing items on surfaces didn't pose a concern, but the newfound ability to hear made even these mundane actions startling. While your hearing wasn't perfect, it exposed you to a world of sounds you had never known before. They occasionally frightened you, but more often than not, they overwhelmed you. Nevertheless, with each passing day, you were adapting, learning the sounds of your environment, and the process brought you a sense of satisfaction. There were sounds you cherished, like the flowing river, the chirping bird that Eddie complained about every morning, and the wind rustling through the trees. But nothing could compare to the beauty of Eddie's voice.

Eddie's voice was like a soothing balm for your soul, a comforting sensation akin to a honey candy soothing a sore throat.

Eddie let out another sigh, this time one of relief. Before he could even count to two, you pushed yourself on top of him. Your chest gently brushed against his midsection, and the absence of a bra strap digging into his ribs didn't go unnoticed. Your head nestled on the crook of his neck, your lips and breath sending delightful shivers across his skin.

Your left leg slid swiftly between his, and he almost let out a yelp as your knee ventured too close to his sensitive regions—luckily, you halted just in time to prevent any discomfort. It wasn't until you nestled close to him that his hands finally came into contact with you, a sign that you were comfortable and at ease in his arms.

Eddie's left arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. His other hand embarked on a gentle, exploratory journey, tracing a path from the back of your knee to your upper thigh. His fingertips brushed against the band of your underwear, daring to slip underneath for a brief, tantalizing moment before continuing their exploration. His hand ventured beneath your shirt, gently grazing the tender underboob area for a few moments before finally resting on the back of your head. The pads of his fingers returned to those regions that used to ache when you were overwhelmed by sounds, and he began massaging them with tender care.

The sounds of your pleasure and relief brought a chuckle from Eddie, the vibrations of his laughter reverberating through your body. He understood your unspoken desire as you placed your hand on his chest.

Eddie began humming his favorite tune, a love song he had composed. It was a beautiful melody with a captivating guitar solo that allowed him to shine even brighter. Its title? Your name. You relished the vibrations against your hand and chest.

Eddie chose to sing one of his favorite parts with such intensity that you could feel the vibrations coursing through his chest even though you couldn't hearthe words.

Your touch, a lightning strike, fierce and bold,

A symphony of chaos, a story to be told.

Through the darkest night, you're my eternal guide,

In your arms, my restless heart finds where to confide.

He continued humming, gently urging your head to rise, meeting his loving gaze. Eddie's smile beamed as he brought his head closer to yours, allowing his lips to meet yours in a tender dance of kisses. Their pace was unhurried, and soft sighs passed between you as your lips caressed each other. The kiss gained a touch of passion as his lips captured your lower lip. Eddie's palm roved over as much of your skin as it could reach, and his tongue entered your mouth, eliciting a gasp from him as the kiss deepened.

"I love you," you whispered, your lips still moist from the shared kiss.

Eddie began to respond, but you quickly pressed your palm against his mouth, guiding your body toward the side table and retrieving your cochlear implant. Once it was securely in place, you removed your hand from his mouth and signaled for him to speak, "Now."

Eddie smiled and, now that you could hear, replied, "I love you too." The words flowed freely and earnestly, knowing that you could finally hear them, and he revelled in the newfound connection they shared.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #eddie imagine #eddie fanfiction #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie fluff #uncle wayne

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months

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Gold Dust Woman | Epilogue

A quick glimpse into the future.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: tooth rotting sweetness 🫶🏻

I couldn’t end this series without some fluff, come on now. Hopefully Jake lane takes this as a sufficient apology for breaking your hearts for a while 😁 thank you all for being the best, and as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes.

It’s astounding just how much can change in a year and six months. Your home, although decorated the same, was completely rid from the demons of loneliness that once haunted the building. If you looked hard enough, you could see the areas that once appeared empty beginning to fill with memories of love. Pictures hung in expensive frames, small items littered on counters and shelves to remind you that behind the door, it was no longer just your own life contained inside, it was two. Shampoo bottles standing side by side in the shower, two toothbrushes sitting beside the sink, and two coffee mugs always paired together no matter dirty or clean. A Les Paul and an SG always taking post in the living room, illuminated by the sunlight during the day and blanketed with moonlight during the night. A record collection that had doubled in size, and a bed that only ever previously had one messy side was now in constant disarray. Your clothes no longer littered the floors by their lonesome, because there were plenty of button-ups and t-shirts from another wardrobe to keep them company.

In a year and six months, your house was completely different from the one it used to be. It was filled with laughter, light, and a promise of forever. It was something you never thought the world would bless you with, yet it seemed to surprise you more every day. Although more messy, your home was more inviting than it had ever been. You owed it all to one person, and it was not yourself. Jake had made the sorrow excuse for a wooden shack into your most favourite place in the entire world. He had filled up every empty corner with materialistic items, and the rest with his heart to remind you that as long as he was living, you would never need to be alone again.

It was also intriguing to see just how little things changed in the same time period. You thought that after eighteen months of the same thing every day, you might become bored or outgrow the habits you had fallen into, but neither were true. Your heart still sang with joy each morning, and your body still felt the same peace as it did the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. You worried that the happiness would wear off and you would find yourself stuck in the misery you had been so familiar with your entire life, yet it never made a return. As much as you feared change that might come, it was only proven further with every day that passed that the rest of your life was destined to be just as it was; happy, comfortable, and prosperous. You were eternally grateful for the stability, and you hoped to live in the bubble of elation for the rest of your days.

After the tour came to an end, you all packed up your things with worry about the future. Gold Dust Woman as a band had no plans, yet a following that was steadily growing larger as time went on. Greta Van Fleet was large in their popularity, destined for more fame without a doubt about it. With a new relationship, you feared that distance might add a pressure to your life that you were not equipped to handle, but when the homecoming plane landed, it only took a few moments to decide that Jake would be moving in with you. There was not a hesitation in the process, and it comforted you to know that even if he was gone, he was still all around you.

Finding inspiration in your own leap of faith, Danny and Dylan followed your footsteps not too long after. With your personal lives settled, you thought that as a next step, recording music would be your newest and most exciting adventure. You were not wrong in assuming so, and within the first six months, you had ten songs prepared and awaiting for your first ever EP as a band. You were picked up by a label in no time, and the producing process began. It was a tedious time of relentless marketing and interviews, including a few more gigs for short tours as an opening act for other bands. Now, with the PR out of the way and a team of your own, you were anxiously awaiting the arrival of your very first physical copy of your own record.

Midway through your journey with touring, you had taken a small break to come home and spend time with Jake before he left for his own tour. During your visit, you were pleased to find out that Sam had met someone who turned his world upside down. You were lucky enough to meet her and discover that she was everything he had ever dreamed of, and he was happier than you had ever seen him before. Thus began your quick work at repairing your friendship, finding it incredibly easy to open yourselves back up to each other and return to what you used to be before the brothers relentless conquest for your heart. The world seemed perfect, and although the hurt you experienced during the battle was debilitating, the damage was minimal compared to the prosperity of the future. The scars were white, long gone from memory and replaced by stretch marks that formed from being so full of love and happiness.

You had always been the type to gag at the thought of a fairytale ending, yet now that you were living amidst one, you could finally understand why so many people craved it so desperately. You could not imagine returning to the lifestyle you lived before Jake, because it all seemed bleak and depressing. Constantly searching for a thrill, never having the nerve to speak your truth, never knowing where you were going or where you would end up. It was sickening to recall, and even on your hardest days, or when you went weeks without being able to touch him, your life with Jake was beyond anything you had ever felt or lived before. He was your forever, and your only worry was that you didn’t have enough time in one lifespan to love him. You worried that there wasn’t enough time in the entire universe to love Jake the way he deserved, but you tried your hardest to be the best you could be for him, because god knows he was doing it for you.

You were sat on the couch of your living room, pondering over the empty space that seemed to be growing larger by the day. Jake’s SG was long gone from its stand, and had been for weeks. He was travelling the world and doing what he loved, and you were so happy for him, yet it did not take away from the fact that you missed him terribly. Each day it seemed like the minutes passed slower, and you were counting every second until he walked through the front door. You only had a few more days to go, but you were beginning to believe you wouldn’t survive it. Phone calls and texts only went so far, and you missed his company more than you cared to admit.

A show was playing softly on the television, but you were no longer invested in the screen. You were writing in your journal, hoping to finish some lyrics for a new song you had started. There was an incense smouldering away on the windowsill, the smoke sending a peaceful haze across the room and leaving a calming aroma in the air. The sun was twinkling through the windows, wrapping around the blinds you had pulled across and sending rays through the emptiness of the room. It was cozy, comfortable, yet seemed to be missing something. You knew that feeling would flee as soon as Jake was back home and sitting on the couch beside you. Your coffee cup beside you was spewing pathetic spurts of steam, long forgotten in your mind and destined to be remembered once it was too cold to enjoy.

You snapped from your thoughts, hearing the door open and keys jingling softly. You figured it must be Dylan; she had a spare key and used it quite often when both of your boyfriends were gone off on tour. The loss of constant companionship was made easier with a best friend like her, because she was always willing to help pass the time. Whether it was playing music, or going for brunch, or even just existing together, she was always down for it. She had taken Danny’s place in the routine Sunday Brunches when he was unable to make it, and you weren’t shy in admitting that she did a great job at making them just as fun. Sometimes, when the boys were free from work, the four of you would go together and fill the afternoon with casual drinks and laughter. No matter what, you were constantly surrounded with family, and it was more fantastic than you ever imagined it to be. Sometimes, chosen family was far beyond anything blood relatives could provide, and they outweighed every expectation that you had. You had no idea where you would be without them.

You stood, figuring you could be kind enough to greet her at the door. When you rounded the corner into the kitchen and stepped into the hallway, your heart nearly exploded straight from your chest. At the front door, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box in the other, Jake was standing alone, surrounded with breathtaking beauty as always. He looked up at you, a blinding smile taking over his face, letting you know he was just as excited to see you. “Surprise.” He whispered, kicking his shoes off and walking to meet you. You took off in a sprint, too excited to care about your childish behaviour, and nearly tackled him with the strength in which you hugged him. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you as best he could with the items in his hands. “I missed you, angel.” He placed a kiss to your head, savouring the sweetness for as long as he could.

“What are you doing home so early?” You asked, although the words came out quite muffled due to your face being buried in his chest. The familiar scent was overpowering, holding you captive and intoxicating you immediately. Sandalwood, but it was no longer laced with the implications of sin; it was home, and it was the most sacred of all.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” He admitted, drawing back from you only slightly. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m so glad I did, because something came in the mail.” He grinned, reminding you of the box he was holding in his hand.

“Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes were glistening with excitement, knowing that he was wondering the same thing.

“Let’s find out.” He said, nodding his head down the hallway. Together, you walked into the kitchen and he set the package on the table. He let his bag drop to the ground before he went off in search of a vase for the flowers.

“I can do that,” you offered, practically vibrating at the thought of what was inside the box. He shook his head, reaching into a cupboard and grabbing the item he had been looking for. He filled it with water, carefully removing the flowers from the brown paper wrapping and setting them inside. He placed them on the table before kissing you on top of the head.

“Are you gonna open it?” He asked, looking down at your nervous hands settled on top of the package.

“I’m scared.” You chuckled, trying to stop the tremors in your fingers.

“Don’t be.” He said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. “We’ll do it together.”

“Yeah, together.” You nodded, picking up the box and slowly pulling back the tape. You balled it up, tossing it down on the table as you opened up the flaps. On top of a mound of bubble wrap sat a card. You pulled it out, looking inside all while feeling like you could throw up. You read over the words written inside, feeling the anxiety morph into excitement. “That’s sweet.” You smiled, setting the card by the flowers. It was a note of congratulations from your label, making sure you were well informed of the huge milestone you had achieved. You slowly picked out the bubble wrap, setting it to the side while drawing in a long breath.

Your gaze fell over the cover of the vinyl record, immediately prompting tears in your eyes. You took a step back, letting out a shaky laugh as you dried your eyes. Jake looked back at you, more proud than he had ever been in his entire life. “You did that, sweetheart.” He said, unable to contain his own excitement. You could hear his tone wavering as he tried to hold back his own tears, only sending you spiralling even further. He pulled you into another hug, allowing you to air out your surge of emotions.

After a moment, you reached into the box and pulled it out. The cover was gold, shimmering under the sunlight flowing in from the windows. ‘Gold Dust Woman’ was embossed on the surface in pitch black lettering, standing out from the background. You flipped it over, looking over the track list. At the very bottom in small print, you could see the production rights trademarked by your company. “That’s me,” you squeaked, pointing at your name alongside Dylan and Riley’s. “That’s my name.”

“It is,” he laughed, leaning in to get a closer look at it. “I’m so proud of you, y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the record from the sleeve to cement the reality of the situation. “I couldn’t have done it without you, baby.” He let out a scoff, shaking his head at your statement.

“You can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart. All I do is cheer you on.” You looked up at him, love surrounding the two of you as hearts danced in your eyes. You leaned up, almost forgetting the record in your hand while you were in his company. There was nothing quite as captivating as Jake, and he seemed to outshine everything else. You kissed him, pouring all of your emotion into him and telling him all you needed to just from the small action.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You mumbled against his lips. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m happy to be home.” He said, smiling against you as he kissed you again. It seemed like the two of you could never get enough of each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now, are you going to listen to it, or what?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, looking back to the album in your hand. “In a minute.”

“Go, I’ll be right here when you come back.” He chuckled at your unwillingness to leave.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never,” he said, his tone telling you that his statement was final and not up for debate.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You said, rushing off to the living room. You carefully placed the record down on the couch, removing the vinyl that was sitting on the player and placing it back in the proper sleeve. You took out your own, gently placing it down and then putting the needle on the surface. You turned the volume up and the television off, waiting for a moment while the static turned into music. You heard a clear drum beat fill the air before your guitar joined in, followed by a clear bass line. You were thrilled, the sound better than you ever imagined it could be. You couldn’t believe that it was really your song playing over the speaker, but it was real, and it was the most exhilarating feeling you had ever experienced. “Jake, do you hear this!?” You shouted, cheeks aching from the permanent smile stuck on your face.

“I hear it, angel.” He replied, but he sounded occupied with something else. “I almost forgot, I have something else for you.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what else he could possibly have for you. “Come here for a minute.”

“Okay,” you said, confusion evident in your tone. You made your way back to the kitchen, a bubble of anxiety rising in your stomach. He sounded distant, nervous almost as he called out to you. You had never known Jake to be anything less than self-assured even when he was wrong, and you were curious about what was so heavy on his mind that it changed his normal routine. When you first entered the room, you didn’t see him straight away.

You were confused at his whereabouts, knowing that his voice had been coming from the kitchen, yet you didn’t see him standing in his previous spot. You walked around the table, freezing in your tracks almost immediately. Your eyes went wide as your heart dramatically thudded against your rib cage. Jake was on one knee, hands shaking as he held a small velvet box in his hands. “Oh, god, Jake.” You breathed, bringing your hand over your chest to sooth your erratic heartbeat.

“That doesn’t sound very good.” He gave a nervous chuckle, just as scared as you were about the whole thing.

“No!” You shook your head, easing his mind before he descended too far into his own thoughts. “Not like that, just… wow.”

“I was going to wait, but I couldn’t. I don’t want to wait anymore, y/n.” He spoke so softly that his voice barely broke through the air. “I’ve known since the day I met you, so I don’t see a point in putting it off. I want to spend forever with you, if you want it, too. You are my whole heart, the reason I can get out of bed in the morning and the only thing that helps me sleep through the night. You’re my best friend, the absolute love of my life, and I can’t think of a single reason why I wouldn’t want to be yours forever.” He said, watching your face carefully in case there was any chance you didn’t want what he was offering. “I don’t want to sit and watch while the rest of our lives pass us by. It would be the greatest honour to marry you, Gold Dust Woman.”

You took a step towards him, cautious for no real reason. Part of you believed that it was a figment of your imagination, because his love often seemed too good to be true. You thought over his words, only feeling your heart swell with more affection the longer you remembered. He was right, and there was no reason in the world as to why you should be afraid of saying yes. He was your forever, and you’d known that long before you ever admitted it to yourself. He loved you like no other, so well that sometimes you forgot what it was like before he came along. Your life was picturesque with him by your side, something you had only ever heard about in movies and books, yet it was your reality that you were lucky enough to live every single day. He was everything, and you were beyond grateful to even exist in the same universe as him.

You realized your silence had given the wrong impression, noticing the shift in his expression as he began to turn worried. “Yes, Jake.” You said, hoping to ease his mind. “A million times yes.” You said, moving forward and kneeling down in front of him. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my life, and there is nobody that could make me as happy as you do.” You said, grabbing his face gently between your hands. You pulled him into a kiss filled with love and warmth, just like the rest of your memories with him. You could barely keep the kiss alive, the smiles on your faces too much to handle. When you pulled away, he took the ring from the box and slipped it on your finger, trying his hardest to hold back his tears of elation. “It’s beautiful,” you fawned over the sight, taking in every detail the ring had to offer.

“But it doesn’t hold a candle to you, angel.” He said, looking back up at your face. “I promise I’m going to love you like you deserve until the day I die, and I’m sure that I’ll still love you the same even long after I’m gone. In every universe, and every lifetime. You’re the only thing my heart knows, Gold Dust Woman.”

“Me too, baby.” You promised, feeling your lip quiver from the profound confession. “So, this is forever?”

“Seems like it.” He laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can’t get rid of me, now.”

“Not like I ever could before.” You teased, running your thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “And it’s not like I ever wanted to, anyway.” And it was the truth; not a day passed in which you wished to change a thing, because a lifetime of loving Jake was better than anything you had ever dreamed of.

The End

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @profitofthedune

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pricelessemotion · 1 year

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Starstruck and Metal | E.M.

Summary: [4.3k] you meet eddie for the first time. it doesn't go quite like you expected.

Pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!music journalist!reader

Warnings: none!

Notes: huge thank u to my bestie chuck for beta reading 🫶 also if you solve the crossword hint i love u

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InStereo magazine was not The Rolling Stones, but it was a start. The modest music magazine had a humble following, enough to earn some hums of recognition whenever someone made the mistake of asking what you did for a living. Most days, it’s great. You relish in the joy of working in a field some people only dream of entering. The leap from column writer to main article was a large one, but you insisted that you were ready. Your first assignment as a music journalist and of course you got stuck with Eddie fucking Munson.

Any self-respecting music journalist, anyone with some skin in the game would have laughed in the face of their editor. But instead, you smiled. You nodded enthusiastically, mimicking the bobblehead that has since been removed from your desk. When you decided to become a music journalist, you wanted to write about people who were changing the field. Instead, you were being tasked with writing some puff piece being used to save a wannabe rock star’s reputation. God forbid you gain the reputation of being a difficult woman–in a male-dominated industry no less–by turning down such a great opportunity.

Even if that opportunity included spending a day with Eddie fucking Munson.

You paid out of pocket for the cassette of Corroded Coffin’s debut album that was currently underscoring your drive to West Hollywood. You refused to meet the frontman without having listened to their music beforehand. They were good. A little rough around the edges, but it was to be expected. Outside of the occasional headlines, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie or his band. Corroded Coffin was making ripples, not waves. Of course, no one really cared about the music when they could be reading about who and what their lead vocalist was doing.

Still, you find yourself parking outside of a humble ranch-style home in a neighborhood full of similar housing that likely cost a fortune to live in. The modest proceeds from Corroded Coffin’s tour have obviously paid off, considering that nice area and affordable don’t usually exist in the same sentence when talking about LA housing. The June sun is beating down on the empty street, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear a T-shirt and jeans. You tell yourself that the sweat collecting on your brow is from the heat and not nerves.

Double-checking that you have the right address, you slam the door shut on your sedan and take a deep breath. The air feels cleaner here, less smoggy. You’re not sure if it’s because of the altitude or the tax bracket of the people who live here. Probably both. You reach into your purse and feel around for what you already know is inside. Pen. Notepad. Tape recorder. The holy trinity for a music journalist.

There were very few topics that Eddie wasn’t willing to talk about. You guess that when you’ve had your insides strewn across the pavement for everyone to see, you don’t bother trying to uphold any semblance of mystique. Beginning the daunting trek toward your assignment, you remind yourself of two things:

1) Don’t ask about his father

2) Don’t ask about what happened in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986

The first rule seemed simple enough. As far as the public was concerned, Eddie Munson came to Hawkins at the age of 12 to live with his Uncle Wayne like how a fully formed Venus sprang up from sea foam. He wasn’t and then he was. End of story. The fact that Eddie’s management went out of the way to make sure his father wasn’t brought up only made you more curious.

The second rule was a little harder to accept. Anyone who knew anything about Eddie Munson wanted to know about 1986. Despite the fact that his highly publicized murder charges and subsequent exoneration are part of what caused Corroded Coffin to skyrocket to fame, he’s remained very tight-lipped about the whole situation. He plays off every question about it in interviews with a smirk and a sly comment. Just charming enough to get away without answering. Just vague enough to keep people guessing. Maybe his publicist wasn’t such a waste after all.

Eddie Munson opens the door a few moments after you ring the bell. Using a ringed hand to shield his eyes from the midday sun, he squints at you. A pair of sweatpants hang low on his hips. He has a severe case of bedhead despite the fact that the time on your watch indicates that it’s nearly two in the afternoon. The confusion that draws his brows together also indicates that he has absolutely no idea who you are. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you state your name and purpose before realization graces his features.

“It’s you! Shit, yeah! You’re here for the– the thing!” He tosses a careless look over both of his shoulders before widening the opening. “Come on in.”

Eddie closes the door behind you and rushes down the hallway in order to put some real clothes on, leaving you standing in the empty living room. The inside is surprisingly clean for someone who’s gained the reputation of being a hot mess. It smells like cigarettes, weed, and lemon pledge. The lemon scent is strongest as if someone was trying–and failing–to use it to cover up the previous two. A record player is tucked into a corner, the vinyl still spinning. A line of electric guitars is propped up against the back wall, each of them no doubt costing more than your monthly rent. One of the stands is noticeably empty and you glance to your left to see a beat-up acoustic resting on the couch. On the coffee table, there are piles and piles of scrap sheets of paper. For most of them, the handwriting is too illegible to read or it’s been crossed out. Eddie seems to write lyrics like he lives his life: fast and all over the place.

Stepping closer, something along the upper corner catches your eye. Slyly lifting up a pile of paper, being sure not to disturb the configuration, you find that your suspicions are correct. Eddie received the same copy of Sub Rosa as you did. Obviously, it didn’t go over well. He’s used a pen to black out his eyes. Much to your amusement, you see he’s also drawn horns and a tail. The hand that’s flipping off the camera is illustrated to be holding a pitchfork.

That’s not the full extent of Eddie’s doodling, though. On the bottom right-hand corner of the magazine, there’s a smaller picture of him standing next to a certain brown-eyed beauty. You’re quick to note that he’s drawn a crude halo and angel wings on his long-legged companion. They’ve been scribbled out as an afterthought, making the halo look more like a crown of thorns.

So, you think to yourself, he’s a little immature. You can work with immaturity. Immaturity means that he won’t be as guarded as some of the other celebrities your coworkers have had the misery of meeting. In fact, from what little you know about Eddie, you wonder if he even has any guard at all. He did leave you alone here with stacks of potential songs for his band’s next album. If you were a better journalist and a worse person, you would probably take the time to decipher his chicken scratch and see if you could glean any insights into his creative process. But you don’t. Instead, you release the stack of papers and wait.

For a moment, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve never been inside of a famous person’s house before. You’re not sure if you should sit down and make yourself comfortable or if Eddie has something else planned for the two of you to do. The specifics of your assignment were intentionally vague, most likely to accommodate Eddie’s spontaneity.

Venturing further into the living room, you come to stand in front of a shelf. Brushing your fingers across the collection of vinyl, you tilt your head to read the names along the spines. There are the usual suspects–Dio, Metallica, and Judas Priest–but what surprises you is that, in the midst of all the metal and hard rock, there’s an array of old-school country music. At the end of the lineup is the most surprising one of them all; Sentimentally Yours by Patsy Cline. It’s exceedingly worn, cracks and creases litter the empty sleeve. If you were a betting woman, you would say that the record is currently on the player across the room.

A muffled crash followed by a string of curse words breaks you out of your reverie. Eddie opens the bedroom door with the finesse of someone who is obviously used to being the center of attention. He’s traded his sweatpants and tank top for a pair of ripped black jeans and a v-neck. It felt reassuring to know that you hadn’t underdressed for the occasion.

It also gives you a moment to drink in the blinding light that was Eddie Munson. He’s leaner in person. Though he always looked lithe in every photograph you saw of him, his frame seemed more imposing and large. Maybe all the stars just look that way when they’re so high above you.

He was taller, too. The boots on his feet surely aided in that, given that the soles were at least an inch thick. Still, you didn’t anticipate how much you would have to tilt your head up just to look him in the eyes.

There, standing in Eddie Munson’s rented living room, you realize something; You’re absolutely starstruck.

Although you had turned up your nose at the prospect of interviewing him and regarded his reputation with the same disdain you reserved for bad drivers and shitty landlords, you were still a person after all.

With all of the stars around, it’s easy to think of Los Angeles as the center of the universe. But you are not a star or anything even close to it. You’re some space debris, hopelessly floating and waiting for something bigger to come around and influence you with its gravitational pull.

Eddie is a heavenly body. You can’t help being pulled into his orbit.

“So, I see you’ve found my collection.” His voice is still rough with sleep. The sound makes you weak in the knees.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” You mumble, tucking Patsy Cline back into the shelf. “You’ve got some really good stuff here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Actually, that reminds me, I have something for you.” He swiftly turns and stalks back towards what seems to be his bedroom, motioning for you to follow him.

The blood rushes out of your cheeks. The terms of your interview suggested that you would have a lot of access, but this was different. This was up close and personal. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own because while you’re still wrapped up in the fact that you’re gonna see Eddie Munson’s bedroom, you’re already following him down the hallway and through the open door.

It’s about as messy as you would expect. The furniture is all pale wood and earth tones, fitting the mid-century modern stylings of the rest of the house. You suspect that Eddie took the time to clean up a little while you were rifling through the stacks of paper. The bed is haphazardly made. There’s an ashtray on his bedside table, filled with the remains of a few cigarettes.

“I’m not supposed to smoke inside. Shh.” He brings his index finger to his mouth, pink lips barely brushing the skull ring he’s wearing. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You let out an airy laugh. Being reprimanded for smoking inside is the least of Eddie’s worries and you both know it.

Eddie’s nimble fingers skim the top of the dresser, brushing aside even more sheets of scrap paper. A couple of guitar picks plummet to the floor, but he pays no mind.

“I heard that metal isn’t usually your thing.” He remarks, still sifting through the clutter.

That much is true. While you dabbled in a little bit of everything, not only as part of your job but also as part of your interest in music, metal wasn’t usually the genre you gravitated towards. In fact, the most metal album that you had listened to recently was written and produced by the man standing in front of you.

“It’s not, but I’m open to everything.”

“Aha! Here it is.” Eddie holds up the cassette like it’s the key to the universe. Handing it to you, you can see that the writing on the sides is reminiscent of what you saw in the living room, though slightly neater. You’re familiar with some of the bands listed, but the songs don’t ring a bell. “I thought I would broaden your musical horizons.”

You gawk at him. For someone whose job is about words, you can’t find any. He took the time to make you a mixtape?

“Track five is a personal favorite.” Eddie says, leaning towards you and tapping the tracklist, obviously unshaken by your inability to form a coherent thought.

“Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.” You manage to choke out, tucking the cassette into the front pocket of your purse.

Looking around the room, you see that there’s a battered copy of The Lord of the Rings on his bedside table. The corners are frayed, and you’re certain that you could accidentally tear the cover off of the paperback if you’re not careful. Cautiously, you trace the spine with your finger, waiting for Eddie to say something. To tell you that it’s the one thing that’s off limits. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching you. Opening it, you can see Property of Eddie A. Munson written underneath the title in a childish scrawl.

“You like books? I mean–you’re a writer, so of course you like books–I mean, have you read that one?” Eddie is visibly flustered, the words coming out of his mouth at an alarming rate. It almost makes up for the way he rendered you speechless moments ago.

“I’m more of a Dune girl myself. But, I love The Lord of the Rings. My dad used to read it to me before bed every night.”

“Yeah?” A small smile tugs at his lips before he practically whispers his next words. “Mine too.”

A flash of something you can’t quite decipher crosses Eddie’s face.

“Right! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?” He shuffles out of the room like his life depends on it. You’re still reeling at the fact that he brought up his dad unprompted. Keeping a brisk pace, you put the book down and follow him into the kitchen.

“We have…” He trails off, opening the door to the refrigerator. “Nothing.”

He shuts the refrigerator and dashes to the table by the front door. He mumbles to himself before grabbing a few things, shrugging on a jacket, and finally turning to face you again. A pair of sunglasses covers the half of his face that isn’t plastered with a mischievous grin. From the tips of his fingers hangs a set of car keys.

“You hungry?”

–

You should’ve known that Eddie Munson would try to kill you within 20 minutes of meeting him. Lifting up the garage door, he reveals that the car keys were in fact, not car keys but keys to a motorcycle. The vehicle in question is an absolutely stunning deathtrap. It shines so beautifully that you can see your terrified face in the warped reflection.

Putting his helmet on, Eddie straddles the bike and looks at you.

“C’mon.” Eddie smiles wolfishly, tilting the spare helmet towards you. “I’m a safe driver. Promise.”

You’re still standing frozen. His wolfish grin melts into something more patient.

“Hey, if you don’t want to take the motorcycle, just say the word. I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Despite the sincerity in his voice, you can’t help but take the words as a challenge.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You profess, though the shake in your voice is evident. Grabbing the helmet out of his hands, you ignore the way your face heats up when your fingers brush.

Eddie takes gross advantage of California’s lane-splitting laws, leaving you clinging to his leather-draped torso for dear life. Outside from the occasional shout of assurance that you can’t understand, the ride is quiet but for the roar of the bike and the wind in your ears. You’re vacillating between being absolutely terrified of crashing and secretly relieved at the fact that you didn’t have to make small talk on the drive from his place to wherever he was taking you.

You were very close to liking Eddie Munson. Now, you were sure that he was sent as some kind of karmic punishment.

“Parking in L.A. is always a pain. That’s why I love this baby,” He gingerly pats the handles as he kicks the parking brake down. “She can fit basically anywhere.”

You hum in agreement, mostly just happy to have made it to your destination in one piece. While Eddie hops off the bike with ease, you have a little more trouble. Swinging your leg over, your toe catches on the fuel tank, causing you to stumble and nearly fall to the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Eddie is biting back a smile. He offers a calloused hand out to you. You brush it away out of embarrassment, planting both feet firmly on the ground and taking in your surroundings.

You had expected Eddie to take you to one of L.A.’s finer dining venues. Somewhere with fancy mood lighting and clientele with pockets so deep that they don’t even bother to put the prices on the menu. His management was footing the bill, after all.

The building that sits before you is none of those things. The diner is old and slightly dilapidated. Graffiti mars the stucco that hasn’t already crumbled away. The neon sign that says Zazie’s! blinks drowsily, more of an eyesore than eye-catching.

Eddie opens the door for you. As the bell above it jingles, you’re hit with a rush of conditioned air and canned nostalgia. The walls are covered in artifacts from a bygone era of poodle skirts and letterman jackets. A lonely jukebox sits in the corner, playing a soft hum to a Billie Holiday song you have long forgotten the name of.

A plump woman sits behind the counter doing the crossword in the newspaper. Likely, the same one you were doing that morning. A thoughtful look is etched into her soft features, and you wonder if she’s also stuck on 57-down: Idle during the heist. The ten-letter space confounded you so much that you were almost late. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like Eddie is the type of person to care too much about punctuality. At the sound of the bell, she looks up, squints, and smiles.

“Is that you, Toto?” The glasses that sit on the tip of her nose are attached to a chain around her neck. She lets them fall to her chest, her voice bright and amiable.

“You know it is, Dorothy!” Eddie gushed, an award-winning smile back on his face.

They fall into easy conversation, making it obvious that he’s a regular here. You keep glancing at him trying to find hints of ingenuity but there are none. Eddie regards the woman with the warmth and respect that you would expect from a boy scout, not a rockstar.

Sliding into a booth, Dorothy hands you both a menu and leaves to make a fresh pot of coffee.

“You have to try the french toast, it’s divine.” Eddie barely steals a look at the laminated folder before folding it back up and putting it down on the table.

“I’ve never really been a french toast person. I don’t know if I wanna risk it.”

Eddie gives you a pointed look, sunglasses slipping down the slope of his nose. “You rode a motorcycle. How much more risky is a plate of french toast?”

“Maybe that was all the risk-taking I had in me for one day.” You force yourself to shrug noncommittally. You don’t know why breakfast food is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, but you’re going down swinging.

“Well, you already trusted me with your life.” Eddie takes the sunglasses off and tucks his fist under his chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “Think you can trust me with this?”

Suddenly, all of the fight in you disappears. There’s that sincerity in his voice again. You realize then that the best and worst thing about Eddie Munson is how genuine he always sounds.

“Yeah, I do.”

The smile on his face is so bright that you feel compelled to look away. Eddie orders for both of you. It’s enough food to feed a small army, but it seems that Dorothy is used to it because she leaves the table with a wink and says if y’all need anything just holler!

“Do you mind?” You say, pulling out the notepad and pen from your purse.

Eddie freezes for a fraction of a second. It’s almost imperceptible. Almost. In the small amount of time you’ve known him, it has become abundantly clear that Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve. Recovering quickly, he gives you the go-ahead and smiles. For the first time today, his grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So,” You begin, clicking the button on your ballpoint. “I have to ask. Toto?”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He goes on a whole spiel about how he was having a terrible day and walked into the diner feeling homesick and hungry. When he first came to L.A. he felt like Dorothy stepping into the technicolor world of Oz. Once the novelty wore off, he found himself missing when the world used to be so black and white. Upon telling the wise waitress, aptly named Dorothy, she lovingly told him, Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. The nickname stuck ever since.

The story almost sounds rehearsed. A perfect sound bite that shows how you can take the boy out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the boy. And yet, you feel inclined to believe him. Eddie just seems to have that effect on people.

The food finally arrives and you’re amazed to find that Eddie’s eyes are not bigger than his stomach. He talks about music and his band in between bites of pancakes and hashbrowns, both of them drowned in an inch of syrup. He speaks of his friends back in Indiana with a certain fondness, but you can’t help but notice how avoids naming his hometown. He also never refers to Hawkins as back home, instead saying where I’m from.

Conversation between the two of you flows as easily as the never-ending coffee from Dorothy’s pot. It’s almost too easy to forget that this is an interview. Remembering yourself, you take a moment to ask Eddie one of the harder-hitting questions you have in your back pocket.

“What about Evelyn Chau?”

Eddie winces. The open book that was sitting before you shuts tight with a resilient slam. The mouthful of pancakes and syrup seems to turn to sludge as his chewing slows. Despite having no regard for table manners earlier, he points at his lips and holds up a finger to indicate that he needs a minute to swallow.

After taking a sip of coffee and wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he slouches in his seat and crosses his arms defensively.

“What about Evelyn Chau?” He repeats your question back to you but with an unmistakable air of forced nonchalance.

You want to crumble under his pointed gaze, but you don’t. You steel yourself with the reminder that asking uncomfortable questions is part of your job description. Besides, it would raise many more alarms if you didn’t ask about the raven-haired model spotted painting the town with him than if you did.

“Everyone wants to know if you’re together.”

“Everyone.” He exaggerates the word, using his index finger to trace the lip of his coffee cup. “Does that include you?”

The smirk on his face indicates that he’s either messing with you or flirting with you. Maybe both.

“Well,” you demure. “are you?”

“Evie is just a friend.” Eddie’s still perfectly composed, but the familiarity with which he says her nickname betrays him. His face twitches when he catches his slip-up. “A really close friend.”

It’s already too late. He couldn’t convince you that she was just a friend if he tried. A flash of a crossed-out halo and crooked angel wings comes to mind.

You’re about to ask him another question, but Dorothy and her impeccable timing interrupts the moment by placing the check on the table. Eddie throws down a few bills from an old leather wallet, while you’re trying to figure out how you can spin a two-hour diner date into an entire article.

Eddie stretches as he stands up, the hem of his black v-neck raises to expose a tattoo on his right hip that snakes down further than you’re supposed to look. On the other side, you catch a muddled array of purple and red scar tissue. Averting your eyes, you look up and are met with a stony gaze. He caught you staring.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

Because you’re a very stupid, stupid woman, you agree.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

taglist: @twisted-wonderland-of-wren

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #mimi wrote ✍️#can i ask you a question?

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littleredwing89 · 1 year

Text

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Very, very minor Daddy kink.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

You pushed the trolley further down the refrigerated aisle, humming softly as you threw a selection of soft cheeses into it. Jason was close behind you, hand resting on your lower back. You bit back the smile at his semi protective manner as you strolled on.

You glanced at the vast array of butters frowning. Did there really have to be so much choice? Salted, non salted, low fat, garlic flavoured. You scoffed, “They must think I’m crazy, I’m not paying $10 for butter!”.

Jason’s brow creased slightly, “Do they not normally cost $50?”.

You almost choked at his ridiculous question before bursting into laughter, “Are you drunk?!”.

He grunted and threw in a butter of his own before returning close to your side. His hand rested in the same place as before sending a wave of warmth through you. You glanced at him sideways, appreciating his form. It was a change, a welcomed one mind you, to see him in black sweatpants and a simple charcoal T-shirt instead of the expensive Italian suits. His dark hair was messy, several white strands from his fringe flopping down into his blue eyes. He still looked just as handsome, maybe even more so in such a relaxed and casual setting.

Your thoughts splintered when you heard another item drop into the trolley. You rolled your eyes when you saw the whipped cream. Typical. Jason had a filthy smirk on his lips when you looked up at him, shrugging nonchalantly.

“No”, you bent over into the trolley, grabbing it quickly, shoving it back into his hands.

“But-”.

You cut him off, “No”.

Gripping the can in his hands, Jason pouted before pressing his lips to your hair, “But I have an idea”.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feel of his lips brushing against the crown of your head before you whispered, “You’re not putting it on your cock”.

Jason grunted quietly, “Kill joy”, he shoved it back into the fridge before looking at you, eyes glittering darkly, “What about on your pussy?”.

An old lady passing you both gasped and scuttled by, muttering angrily to herself. She looked completely disgusted with both you and Jason.

You blushed before shaking your head, “Yeah…that sounds like a yeast infection, no thanks”.

He smirked and palmed your ass, tugging you closer to him. His chest pressed against you, “I’ll just have to find something else to eat off you”.

His husky voice sent shivers down your spine which you tried to pass off down to the cold atmosphere of the aisle.

“You’re a sex pest”.

Jason shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh, that reminds me I need more coffee”.

“What the-”, you shook your head in disbelief, “How did you leap to that?!”.

“Sex pests need their energy to harass beautiful women...like you”, his voice oozed with the charm he laid on in the office. The one you swore wouldn’t work on you but was suddenly making you flush pink.

You shoved your palm into his face but smiled fondly. He pretended to bite your fingers in a playful gesture causing you to giggle. You briefly wondered what you both looked like to the other customers. Some love sick couple, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Butterflies flooded your stomach at the thought of being mistaken for a real couple.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time I came here”, Jason spoke as you made your way further into the supermarket, throwing a bag of pasta into the trolley.

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”.

Jason dropped in some of the more expensive pasta sauce before looking at you, “I don’t - well - I don’t usually do my own shopping”.

“And you call me princess!”, you smirked.

Jason pinched your ass, “You're Daddy's little princess…”.

He went to kiss you but the same old lady from before coughed loudly, clearly having heard your conversation. She hobbled forward with a glare, “Excuse me, you’re blocking the pasta I need”.

You stepped back, burying your face into your hair. You wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. What must she think of you both?

Jason gave her a dazzling smile, “Sorry sweetheart”.

There it was, that same slick charm only even thicker.

“Do you want me to help you with that?”.

His suaveness clearly didn’t work on her as she grunted, grabbing the sauce before waddling off down the next aisle, mumbling about the filthy next generation.

The pair of you shared a look before laughing. He grabbed your hand and tugged you gently, “Come on princess, I need a few more things before we can go”.

———

The whole scenario of you both in the supermarket had your mind hazy. Such a domestic task completed together. It made you feel warm inside. You knew this was new for Jason too, wondering momentarily if he’d ever shared this side of himself with anyone before. Maybe that’s why he was so closed, insisting this was nothing more than passion between the sheets.

He’d vanished for a moment to grab something from one of the other aisles, telling you to carry on. You skimmed your eyes over the freezers, spying the vegetables you wanted. You opened the freezer and grabbed the bag of frozen broccoli before closing the door behind you. You shrieked when you turned and saw Jason right behind you.

Your grip on the frozen vegetables tightened as you looked up at him, “Jeez, are you trying to-”.

He cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your back wedged against the ice cold door. You shuddered, gasping into his mouth at the duel of sensations. The bitter coolness biting into your back fighting against the heat of his mouth and kiss.

Without thinking, you dropped the broccoli and wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt him smirk and his tongue grazed against yours, hips digging into yours. You could feel the outline of him and the thoughts firing in your mind started to make your stomach twist.

Jason pulled back suddenly, your cheeks tinged pink. He grinned cheekily before bending down to pick up the rudely discarded broccoli.

“I think you dropped something princess”.

You gathered your thoughts and ripped the bag of frozen vegetables from his hands, “Let’s go pay for our shopping Casanova before you can’t control yourself”.

His deep laughter followed you down the rest of the aisle, his hand settling on your lower back again.

———

Jason pressed a button on his car keys and the boot opened slowly. You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Neat trick”.

He grinned, “It was an optional extra when I bought it”.

You ignored him and loaded the bags into the back of the car quickly. As soon as the trolley was empty, Jason wheeled it away back to the trolley station. You closed the boot with a thud and rested your ass on it gently, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I gotta say”, you gave him a coy smile, “This was an original date, I’ve never been taken to the supermarket before”, you spoke as though it was a hidden scandal. Jason Todd, shopping in Walmart.

“It isn't a date”, he grunted and stepped a little closer to you, eyes raking over your body. You’d purposely worn these yoga pants knowing how much he liked the way they clung to your curves. Curves he wanted to worship.

“What would you call it?”.

“Killing time”.

You didn’t take offence to his flippant attitude. You expected it. Despite what he was saying, his actions were doing the complete opposite. Telling you all you needed to know about the man in front of you.

“You”, you prodded his solid chest, “Are severely lacking brain cells”.

Jason huffed, “I needed to go and so did you, two birds one stone”.

He almost sounded convincing. Almost. But the way he was caging you against the boot of his car told you otherwise. He was stubborn. That you had to admit. He just needed a little coaxing. A little reassurance. And maybe some gentle teasing.

You nodded, “Mmhmm, sure…Mr. I don't do my own shopping”.

“It was convenient”.

“Jason”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “You even kissed me next to the frozen broccoli…which was so steamy it almost melted my vegetables”.

Jason didn’t miss the light teasing in your voice and smirked, “My princess has kissable lips, no one can blame me for that”.

“My princess?”, you stroked your hand up his chest, the cotton soft under your fingertips, “How possessive…you almost sound like my boyfriend”.

He growled low and crashed his lips against yours. You purred softly as his 5 day old stubble tickled your skin, hands snaking around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his head. Jason pressed you further into the metal of his car, one hand gripping your hip, the other cupped around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. It might have sounded cliché, and something out of one of your grandmother's romance novels but Jason’s kisses completely took your breath away.

You grinned into the kiss, pulling away slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke, “Your publicity team is gonna have an aneurysm if we get caught, what will the paparazzi say if they see their Prince of Gotham getting x-rated in public?”.

“I don’t care, they work for me”, he muttered, stealing another brief kiss from you, “They can work their magic and earn their salaries”.

Your lips kissed across his cheek, stopping at his earlobe, whispering, “I got the whipped cream…”.

Jason shivered and the hand on your hip flexed, “Oh did you?”, he smirked and pulled your core to press against his crotch, you felt his bulge twitch which was barely hidden by the fabric of his sweatpants, “I know what I'm having for dessert tonight”.

“I thought you wanted me out of your apartment tonight, something about a poker night with the boys?”, you pulled back quickly, your eyebrow quirked upwards.

Jason tugged you back to him, “You’ve got cuter reactions”. He nipped your bottom lip, enjoying the way your gasp stroked over his lips.

“So you’re cancelling on the boys for lil’ ole me?”, you nudged your nose against his before planting a delicate kiss to his lips, “They’re definitely going to think you have a girlfriend if you keep cancelling on them”.

“I'll still be enjoying myself”, he brushed it off completely and stood back slowly, his hand finding yours without question, “Let’s get back, there’s a bottle of whipped cream with your name on it”.

He walked you round to the passenger side of the door before opening it for you. You smiled at his behaviour and kissed his cheek before slipping into his Audi.

———

#ceo!jason Todd x reader #ceo!jason todd x reader insert #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader insert #red hood smut #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #red hood imagine

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thesightstoshowyou · 7 months

Text

Freeze

- A Sights Original -

Unnamed Male Character x F Reader (NSFW)

(A/N: Are you a fight, flight, or freeze kind of person? I’m more of a “freezer” myself. This was based on a dream I had the other night. Happy late Valentine’s Day to my favorite pervs.)

Warnings: Very polite noncon, mentions of unresolved medical issues, threats, knife usage, praise, forced orgasm

Paper crumples in your palm. Your brows furrow, scowl deepening as you stomp down the sidewalk. With each annoyed step, your knee twinges, bone grating on bone, the joint popping painfully.

This is the third doctor you’ve been to, the third time your concerns have been dismissed. You’re too young to have arthritis. Take some ibuprofen for a week, the pain will go away. Give it time.

You have given it time. You’ve given it weeks. Months. An entire year. At what age do doctors start taking you seriously?

Your dress billows around your thighs, ruffled by the breeze. The temperature plummeted while you were at the clinic. Shivering, you wrap your arms around yourself. Should have brought a jacket.

In the distance is the parking garage. Having to walk this far is not helping your knee. You’re nearly limping by the time you make it to the staircase leading to the lower levels.

Prickling on the back of your neck.

Discreetly, you scan your surroundings. Out of the corner of your eye is a man. You make a mental note of his appearance: Tall—maybe a little over 6ft—blonde, short cropped hair, lean, white t-shirt, ripped jeans.

It’s probably nothing. He’s just going to his car too.

But he’s staring right at you.

The stairs are difficult. Your knee clicks and the ache deepens with each hurried step. Your leg threatens to buckle every time it must hold your weight. Your knuckles blanche with how tightly you grip the railing. Breathe, breathe, slow your pulse, keep calm, it’s okay, stop panicking—

Tap, tap, tap. Footsteps behind you, closer now, matching your hurried pace. Your fingers fumble with the zipper of your purse. Frantically, you shove the crumpled doctor’s notes in your bag and search for your keys. You should have gotten them out sooner, what a stupid mistake….

Last two stairs, almost there, you can see your car just across the lot, look around, is there anyone near, can you yell for help? It’s so empty, there are only three other vehicles. Your phone! Idiot. It’s in your bag too, call the cops, hurry—

The footfalls suddenly disappear from behind you and you half turn in time to see the man leap clean over the railing. Effortlessly, he lands and uses the rail to swing himself around to face you and block your path.

“Hey,” he says, grinning wide like you’re an old friend. This close, you see a raised scar running from his brow and down across his eyelid. On the side of his face, near his left ear is a tattooed symbol or pattern of some kind.

You don’t waste time studying the composition, instead twisting on your heel and racing back up the stairs, heart in your throat. Adrenaline helps dull the discomfort in your knee, but your leg still trembles until you must clutch the railing.

You don’t make it far. He’s so much quicker, taking the stairs two at a time and gripping your upper arm to pull your hand from your purse and stop your hasty retreat. He whips you around and gently pushes you against the kneewall. His opposite palm comes up to cover your mouth, as pointless as it is. You’re too frozen in terror to react yet, your voice trapped in your throat.

What strikes you first is his grin. He’s smiling so warmly, his dark eyes lit up with such joy. It makes you second guess your fear, like maybe you should know him, like you should be just as thrilled.

You falter only for a second. A quiet click heralds the feeling of steel at your throat. Your eyes widen in horror and wildly dart around—no cameras, no people, you’re alone—as you hold your breath and stay as still as you can.

“Hey, I really don’t wanna kill you, but I’ll have to if you scream okay?” He speaks softly as the thumb of the hand covering your mouth caresses your cheek, a sick imitation of comfort.

Quickly, you nod, and the man’s smile widens. He huffs a relieved laugh, his palm sliding from your mouth to rest on your waist. The knife stays where it is, hovering just over your throat.

His kind expression is so jarring, so alien to the situation. He should be glowering like a villain, not smiling like a friend.

“Y-you can take my purse, please, I d-don’t have cash—

“Shhh,” he whispers with a chuckle, shaking his head like you made a silly joke. The hand on our waist slides lower. The warm, calloused skin of his palm brushes your thigh to push your skirt higher.

Terror chokes you, a strangled little squeak leaving your lips. It becomes horribly apparent what this is, what’s actually happening to you now with each inch his hand claims.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. You shake in his grip and clench your eyes shut, your breath only coming in sharp gasps. The scream is there now in the back of your throat, begging to be freed, but the blade now resting on your neck keeps it in check.

“P-Please, please don’t, please—

“It’s okay, I promise it won’t hurt, see…?” he murmurs, fingertips stroking your folds through your panties. A quiet whimper escapes, tears pooling in your lashes. He’s right, it doesn’t hurt, but that doesn’t make it any less shocking.

“What’s your name?” he asks, the gentle rumble of his voice buzzing against your palms.

Palms? When did you place them on his chest?

You’re not sure why you tell him, but you do, your name leaving you in a shaky whisper only he can hear.

“I love that. So pretty like you. I knew you would be really, really good for me.” His digits circle your clothed clit, languid circles that make your toes curl in your shoes. You despise the wetness gathering in your underwear and the wanting heat curling in your belly.

Your nails twist in his shirt when he nudges your panties to the side to touch you unhindered. When he finds you dripping, his pleased gasp makes you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You could almost forget about the knife like this. Almost.

Your cheeks burn, mortification constricting your chest when your cunt squelches around his digits. He offers a needy groan in response and pumps his fingers until you’re fighting the urge to buck your hips.

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

“I can’t wait, sorry—sorry, god, you’re such a good girl,” he mutters, wet fingers sliding from your channel so he can shove his hand in his pocket. He produces a condom wrapper. Bringing it to his mouth, he rips it open with his teeth. Dexterously, he works open his pants to free his leaking cock and slides the rubber down his length.

Your heart stutters in your chest and you desperately shake your head when he hooks his hand under your thigh to lift your leg. A grimace twists your features when all your weight is put on your bad knee. Your hand flies to the railing to steady yourself.

“What—oh right, you were limping, I’m sorry.” Hurriedly, he sets your leg down and lifts the other, easing the pain in your knee. Confusion and dread addle your mind; you’re torn between his consideration and trauma he is about to inflict.

You can’t fight or flee with the knife at your throat. You don’t know how to react when he hooks a thumb in the crotch of your underwear to tug the soaked fabric to the side. All you manage is a pathetic whine as the tears pooling in your lashes streak down your face.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he chants like he’s trying to soothe an injured child. You tense, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to do something, but you’re trapped in your own body, like your brain is disconnected from the rest of you.

Eagerly, he lines up and surges into your slippery cunt. You barely manage to contain your shriek behind your teeth, his hand flying to your mouth to cover the strangled sound you emit. You look up at him through despairing, watery eyes, inhaling the scent of yourself on his fingers, your pleas of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” muffled by his palm.

He groans through his teeth, eyes fluttering, hips grinding against you when he rolls them. “It’s—ahh—it’s okay, honey, you didn’t mean it, I know it was an accident. I know you can be quiet for me,” he purrs and you’re…relieved.

His hand leaves your lips to return to your trembling thigh. He spreads you open to make room for deeper thrusts. It’s tender, though, the way he ruts up into you. He pushes you tighter into the wall, pins you there with his weight, holds you close like a lover.

Hushed moans wash across your skin when he leans down to drag his lips through your tears. There’s praise too, ‘so good,’ and ‘thank you,’ murmured near your ear.

Inside, you’re burning. Every gentle thrust sends pleasurable shock waves through your belly while conflict rages in your mind. It shouldn’t feel this way! You shouldn’t be fighting moans, your fingers shouldn’t be digging into his shoulder, you shouldn’t be leaking down your thighs, and you most assuredly shouldn’t be climbing the precipice of climax.

The man’s hand slips from your leg and his fingers quickly locate your clit to rub more torturous circles. You suck in air through your teeth and furiously shake your head. If you cum, you’ll never forgive yourself.

“Please cum with me, baby?” He moans softly and adds, “I’d love that so much.” With the way the molten knot in your gut tightens with each passing second, you realize you don’t have a choice.

Eyes snapping shut, quivering lips falling open in a silent cry, the knot unravels. Slick muscles spasm and grip the throbbing length buried within you. A strained exhale escapes from the man’s throat when his cock twitches and spills into the condom. For one, brief moment, you consider thanking him for using one.

The hand holding the knife shifts so thumb and forefinger can grip your chin and tip your head back. You sob against his lips when they press to yours. It’s too tender a gesture for what just occurred.

Would it have been less distressing if he’d been cruel?

“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmurs against your mouth before pulling away. You snap your knees shut as he steps back. Your skin prickles. The loss of his body heat makes you aware of the chilly air billowing down the stairs.

Quickly righting his clothes, he flashes you another disarming grin and departs. Back up the stairs he goes, jumping two at a time. You watch him leave, tears cooling on your face.

Now, the only sounds echoing through the darkened garage are your haggard breaths and quiet sniffling. You’re alone. Slowly, you sink onto a step, legs shaking like a newborn calf. You stare blankly at the goosebumps dotting your skin.

Should have brought a jacket.

#thesightstoshowyou #original writing #horror #idk how to even tag this #f reader

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