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#we could have had another masterpiece
eastern-lights · 4 months
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Ok so we all know how amazing Baldur's Gate 3 is. I could talk for hours about everything it did perfectly.
But rn, I want to talk about what I think Dragon Age Inquisition did better. And this is not to judge which game is better overall, but what still makes DAI so special to me despite its flaws.
1. Voiced protagonist
Yeah, starting off controversial. I know some people prefer silent protagonists, but I just find myself wishing we could have a fully voiced Tav, even at the cost of fewer dialogue options. I'm sorry, but Tav's silent indifferent face just always breaks the immersion for me, especially when contrasted with the award-worthy acting and animation of the characters they're speaking with. In DAI (and DA2, although to a lesser degree) your character could be heavily customized, but they were always an actual person who fit in with the rest of the universe and flowed seamlessly with the story.
2. Mystery and dread.
BG3 is full of heavy, scary, traumatizing stuff hidden all over the place (or in plain sight). But it can always be explained in some way. There are dreadful things in Faerûn, but we always know what they are (mostly due to most of them having to have precisely given stats as the result of being based on DnD). We know what happens after death and what we can do to bring people back from it. The closest you get to truly dread-inducing mystery in BG3 is "Do Illithids have souls" and "where do illithids come from" and (at least in Act 1) "who is the Absolute".
In Dragon Age, the whole world is made of existential dread. What happens when you die? Dunno. Is God real? No idea and if He does, He hates you. What is the Blight? Are all darkspawn capable of independent thought? What is lyrium singing about? What happened to the titans? What happens when all of the Old Gods die? And this is just the Big Questions. There's a myriad of small things, small mysteries you encounter that just have no answers. Stuff that reminds me of those creepy Goldshire children forming a pentagram in World of Warcraft. While having an explanation for everything makes for deeper worldbuilding, a world full of mysteries without answers makes for a much scarier and, in some ways, exciting experience.
3. Group dynamic and party banter
I enjoyed the party banter in BG3. Hell, it had some of the funniest lines in game. But it didn't do enough to make the group dynamic feel any less Tav/Durge-centric. You hear the companions exchange banter, but you never get beyond stuff like "Karlach and Shadowheart both enjoy wine" and "Gale enjoys Lae'zel telling him about the Astral plane". The protagonist forms amazingly written relationships with each of the companions, but they never seem to have such a bond with one another. The closest we come to what I'd like to see is Karlach and Wyll's friendship, but even that's kind of shallow, I feel. The companions do comment on the others' personal quest, but it's always one sentence reaction, before going right back to being mostly indifferent. DA2 had the same issue, if to a greater extent (srsly, the companions had the same attitude about one another over the span of 10 years)
The banter in DAI was superb. It told a story. It had arcs. You could watch in real time as Solas and Dorian became friends over their shared magical nerd-dom. You could even take part in it, such as when telling Blackwall to stfu about jousting for a moment, or telling Sera that what you and Solas do in private is none of her business. You could see Dorian and Bull fall in love. You could watch Varric slowly chip away at Solas' worldview until he arguably came closer to changing his plans than Lavellan ever did. The relationships grow over the course of the story and by the time of Solas' betrayal, you're not just sad because he betrayed you, you're sad because he betrayed Varric, Dorian, Bull, Cassandra and everyone else. Because you saw how they cared about him, each in their own way.
There is nothing more heartbreaking than Varric's "Chuckles, what have you done?"
In BG3, the relationships are mostly left to your imagination, which has its perks, but still, the group dynamic feels more like a wheel with Tav at the centre rather than a web.
4. Having limits on the romance options
Let me start by stating what I am not saying: I am not saying that bi and pan people shouldn't be represented. Far from it. But I don't think making the whole group pan is the way to go about it. I can't help but feeling it is, in a way, pandering to players, making every single companion interested in them as long as they have a sufficiently high approval.
Making some companions explicitly bi, pan, gay or straight made for a more real experience. Getting rejected by Sera on the grounds of "We have a lot in common - we both like women" felt disappointing, yes, but also real. This also allowed the writers to make the characters' sexual/romantic preferences a part of their, well, character. We got Dorian's personal quest, which I think is great. Limiting Solas' options to just Lavellan allowed the writers to make it about him realizing that his people are not mere shadows. It allowed them to write the Vallaslin scene. None of this could have been done if he were romanceable to all races.
When you have diversity in romantic attraction among the companions, suddenly the pan and bi characters (in Bull and Josie respectively) feel like their orientation is part of who they are, rather than a game mechanic to prevent players from missing out on content.
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rainbowresurrection · 1 month
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I ended up reading The Price of the Phoenix and while it didn't make me want to bleach my eyes like Killing Time, I still didn't like it as much as I hoped I would. Don't get me wrong, the homoeroticism was intriguing to me, but the actual writing and storyline itself left me with a headache. I think I get my hopes up with these books, given all of the possibilities that the written word has for Trek, and it inevitably sets me up for disappointment lol
#if u liked it thats fine I just kind of hated it#star trek#The only ones Ive genuinely liked so far is STTMP and the one about Garak written by Andrew Robinson#i wish Roddenberry had written more. STTMP was no literary masterpiece but his writing style had a lot of potential and I feel that#he actually captured the characters authentically and you could relate to their feelings#Price of the Phoenix had all of this corny alpha male shit going on that almost made me feel#like the author just didn't know how to write men or something#Like they relied a lot on stereotypes of the time which sucked considering that Kirk and co. are supposed to be living in the future#the dialogue was clunky and even confusing at times#and the characters were just#idk. vapid to me#Like Kirk and Spock's love for each other is portrayed which is nice but basically everything else about them just didnt feel#accurately characterized or otherwise explored#it was basically just muliple chapters of several different versions of Kirk getting his ass kicked & this big weird villain dude taking up#space on the page with his plan to take over the universe or whatever#the reincarnation concept was intriguing but the themes just weren't clear enough for me#the end haha#sttos#k/s#review#price of the phoenix#well Im glad I read it anyway I was curious#i get kind of leary of certain K/S content TBF since a lot of it- esp around that time- comes off as voyeuristic towards M/M relationships#a lot of those ppl didnt exactly care about queer movements as much as they cared about seeing their two fictional favs fuck#yes there were queer writers but we didnt always exactly get center stage in these things#you can tell what is written with respect and whats just kinda. written. you feel me#i love K/S and its history but Im not gonna pretend all or even half of it was written with the intention of uplifting queer men#i ended up having more to say than I realized uhhhhhh to be continued at another date
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devilishcupid · 11 months
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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agendabymooner · 2 months
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SOMETHING VICTORIOUS !!! CS55 + CL16 + LN4 X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: the podium finishers weren’t the only thing that finished that night.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, gangbang???, mmmf smut content, dubcon, pwp, double penetration + oral sex (m receiving), mentions of sexism/misogyny (NOT APPLIED TO DRIVERS), consensual degradation, squirting, praise kink, i did not proofread this (the race just finished two hours ago duh)
note: i have returned with a short blurb eheh enjoy xx
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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there was something vile about the way celebrations occurred for the ferrari drivers.
ferrari 1-2’s are rare, sure, so this called for celebration— a massive one even.
so if anyone ever saw how carlos and charles celebrated with their sweet girl, anyone would consider this… morbid.
for some, it was filthy. sinful, even. 
but having walked into carlos sainz’s hotel room after the two scarlet drivers called it an ‘early night’, lando’s eyes couldn’t find themselves to look away when he found the woman sandwiched between the two. 
both carlos and charles were spearing through her holes and carrying her like she weighed nothing, both foreheads were sweaty after fucking her the moment they’ve stepped inside the suite. 
she couldn’t even find herself to talk, her body too busy being manipulated and moved around while both her holes were stuffed with their cocks. 
any man could call her a whore for having not only one, but two men fuck her at once. any man could degrade her for allowing men to do this to her body while she writhed and whined about how good she felt when they stuffed her.
so, it was too bad that lando wasn’t just any man. he couldn’t even stop himself from watching unless someone killed him themselves.
the british man’s mouth was practically salivating when carlos lifted her up and sunk her down their cocks, watching her cunt produce liquids that indicated her pleasure. 
lando was so busy gawking at the way her cunt throbbed around charles’ cock that he couldn’t feel anything but his own cock painfully throbbing under his trousers.
he was too busy watching that he didn’t notice the way charles and carlos glanced at him with amused smirks. 
it was only when charles spoke up did he snap out of his thoughts. 
“which one?” charles asked with a teasing smirk at the british man, making lando shake his thoughts away.
when he saw how lando got confused, charles repeated, “she expressed her interest in inviting you before but not once did we see how… interested you were.”
“now you’re here,” carlos laid her down on the king sized bed gently. “so which one?” 
“i- uh- i-“ lando stammered, his buzzed self no longer there as every rational thoughts he had were long gone. 
“hm,” charles hummed before looking at carlos who stood as well. “do you think she can handle another one?”
“yeah,” the three men looked at the woman on the bed, watching her hazy eyes glossing over the three as her mouth let out, “i want more cock in me…”
“atta girl,” lando’s eyes darkened when he saw how frail, sexy, hot and beautiful the naked woman was. he never truly saw her in a new light until lando saw how fucked out she looked.
so much for a podium celebration with the ferrari men.
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anyone with two eyes could tell that this was a sight to behold: her cunt sinking down on carlos’ cock, her back hole preoccupied by charles, and her mouth full of lando. 
it could be considered a renaissance painting, for she was a masterpiece waiting to be coated full of the three men who can paint her in any way they wanted her to be. 
“oh fuck, baby,” lando groaned, growling as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. her muffled moans only added to his pleasure as her mouth vibrated around his length. 
“mmf-“ she hummed around lando’s cock. her eyes glimmered. was it in joy or simply in overwhelming pleasure? both things correlate to one another. 
charles thrusted inside her roughly, his hands digging to her hips. he growled lowly and nipped in her ear with a murmur of, “merde, your hole is too fucking snug, bebe. you’re so fucking good for me.”
“you like that, sì?” carlos reached up to pinch her nipples, eventually slapping her tits as she yelped around lando’s length. “hm? you like it when you have three cocks inside of you? you love being a good slut for us?” 
when she was expected to give an answer, lando grabbed her hair and pulled her away from his cock. his other hand continued to stroke himself while he murmured, “c’mon baby, he wants an answer.” 
she tried to utter a word, but it was only the light slap of lando’s palm that had her uttering, “yes- yes. i love your cocks so much.” 
“good girl,” lando’s cock slapped against her cheek before he slid it back in her mouth, now fucking her face as the ferrari drivers behind and under her picked up their paces. 
“fuck- fuck, good fucking girl,” lando praised her repeatedly, hearing her choke on him quietly as she tried to get a hold of herself. 
she couldn’t. she was so… overwhelmed.
“i’m gonna fucking cum, merde,” charles hissed behind her, not even minding that his cock had gone deep inside her as he let out a groan. 
“i can feel you— oh… fuck,” carlos groaned. “you are so fucking good and tight for me, bonita… you gonna cum, huh?”
she couldn’t respond, thus earning chuckles from the three men. regardless of whether or not she could, she was beginning to feel herself cum again. and again. and again.
never mind getting a podium or a race win, because the three men knew that she was the only one who deserved the victory and the celebration that occurred between the four of them. 
it might be morbid for most, but god… no amount of champagne sprays can top the celebration she was having with the australian grand prix’s podium finishers. 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03
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dolene · 1 month
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GET BACK ON TRACK ; charles leclerc x reader
summary: after carlos's wedding announcement is everywhere and taking over your entire life, you decided to break the slump and getting back on track by moving on.
...★...
carlossainz55
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liked by yourusername and 5,523,925 others
carlossainz55 Carlos & Rebecca. 5.5.25
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username fuck. yncarlos shipper we lose
username We've been losing since day one, there is no winning. Only losing 😔😔
username MY SUN????? MY MOON???? Okay what kind of torture are you guys gonna get me for this week
landonorris happy for you, mate!
yourusername Happy wedding to the beloved couple!! I wish you the best years of love and a great future together ever after 💗
username NO Y/N DON'T PRETEND
username i feel sick
danielricciardo Congratulations, and don't forget to spare the wine! 😄
alex_albon Lily and I wished you both a joyful wedding and a happy life! Don't forget about Lando, though.
username another day another cry (for y/n)
charles_leclerc Congratulations to the happy couple! Glad to be there and watch the sweet moments unveiled.
pierregasly The two of you were looking so sweet together. I hope I can make a good uncle in the future 😁🤣
carlossainz55 It's far still away from that and you're already thinking of that is insane
lewishamilton Happy wedding day to the couple.
username google, play no ordinary love by sade
yourusername
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liked by alexconsani and 644,101 others
yourusername Rats street avenue
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username oh she's serving
sabrinacarpenter WOOHOO GOOO GIRLL
username This is the face of a woman who LIED but still slayed
username pls get a bf that's gon be better than him
alexconsani My name is not Alex Albon, but you know who could Thai-you-down-tnite😏
alex_albon I would never do that though 😂😅
alexconsani Understandable. if I had your girlfriend, I would never cheat on her either
luisinhaoliveira99 I wish I met you when I was still in France
username She flew right away to France because she know she's the realest
username SHE TURNED EMO 💀💀
username the impact of losing him is real
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc and 830,934
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username No captions just a pure masterpiece
username after seeing charles liking this, my feelings said something so gossipy
username mother's slaying again
username funny how i remember yesterday's bangs are still short
username It's an extension btw
yslbeauty Stunning as usual ✨✨
gigihadid I miss Australia and the photo booth
charles_leclerc 🤪🤪
yourusername What are you even talking about
username What is this silly ass interaction
username since when did he even being serious
charles_leclerc added a photo to their story! · 2m
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TWITTER, 10 MINUTES AFTER:
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yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari and 428,695 others
yourusername Gossiping with my new friend
view all 368 comments
username Um is it gossiping about the whole thing with Charles?
username if it's real idk how to even react
username she literally said "i'll snatch your ex teammate"
chloe_stroll That red dressss 🫨🫨
username SHUT UP FERRARI LIKING
username girl it's over, she really going out with charles
username NOOOOOOOOOOOO 💔💔💔
yourusername added a photo to their story! · 10m
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc and 875,116 others
yourusername Feelin’ good
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username OH NAWW IT'S REAL
username at least she moved on... (jumping off a burj khalifa right after)
username idk if i have to be happy or be depressed rn. but anyway congratulations for the HARD launch last night, enjoying it sm 💀🫶
alexconsani Ooooo Charles's gfffff
alex_albon I'M SAAAAFFFEEEEEEE
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theostrophywife · 4 months
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little dove.
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pairing: tom riddle x reader.
song inspiration: if u think i'm pretty by artemas.
author's note: can't believe this is my first tom fic, but please know that this man awakens the feral, unhinged side of me. let me slytherin to your chamber of secrets and ride that basilisk tommy 😏
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This was a stupid, idiotic, and terrible idea. 
Unfortunately for you, those were the conditions in which Harry and Ron worked best under. In your defense, you tried to talk them out of the prank, but the boys were determined to leave their mark. You suppose you could’ve told Hermione, but you didn’t want to interrupt her date with Draco. When it came to talking sense into their thick skulls, you were completely and utterly alone. 
After much argument, you finally accepted that you weren’t going to get anywhere with Harry and Ron. The only thing you could do was supervise their reckless pursuits and minimize the damage as much as possible. So here you were, sneaking into the dungeons under the cover of darkness. 
“This will be the best seventh year prank yet,” Ron whispered as he trailed close behind. “Fred and George are going to be so jealous.” 
“If we don’t die from the cold first,” Harry quipped sarcastically, slightly shivering underneath the invisibility cloak draped over the three of you. “The Slytherins really take the whole cold-blooded thing quite literally, don’t they?” 
You huffed in response, trying your best to muffle your steps. “Can we please focus on not getting caught? We need to be in and out of the dungeons before the prefects start their patrols.” 
The boys nodded as you inched further into the serpent’s nest. Luckily, the corridor that housed Professor Snape’s office was empty. You held your breath as you began to unravel the wards protecting the entrance. You had to give it to him, Snape was incredibly thorough when it came to his security measures. Good thing you were an expert on unlocking charms. 
With a final flick of your wand, the door gave way and creaked open. Ron and Harry wore matching grins as the three of you spilled into the office. Closing the door behind you, Harry’s green eyes crinkled with mischief. 
“Let’s get started.” 
Surprisingly, Harry and Ron’s half-arsed plan was actually coming together. The three of you worked in silence, the boys handing you paints and supplies at the snap of your fingers. After a few more strokes, you flicked your paintbrush over the wall and cocked your head to examine your work. Nearly every single surface of Professor Snape’s office was covered in your illustrations—technically vandalism according to wizarding law. 
The drawings, imbued with the same magic that powered the moving portraits, depicted caricatures of Professor Snape, all of which scurried like rats along the walls, hurtling globs of paint at one another. The head of Slytherin house was going to have a fit when he saw what you’d done to his office. You almost wished you could be there in the morning to witness the look on Snape’s face when he uncovered your masterpiece.
“Bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he packed up the paints and brushes. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Y/N.” 
Harry chuckled and nudged your shoulder. “See? You do have a taste for trouble, after all.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me clean up so we can go.” 
As you carefully wiped the office of any trace of the three of you, Harry suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. You looked up, ready to scold him for idling, but fell silent when you saw the panicked expression on his face. 
“What is it?” you asked quietly. 
Harry held up his hand and slowly opened the door, peeking out into the darkness. A muffled clicking that sounded an awful lot like footsteps echoed from the corridor. “Do you hear that?” 
Ron cursed lowly. “The prefects must’ve started their rounds early.” 
You peered over Harry’s shoulder and felt the color drain from your face. “It’s not the prefects,” you said, swallowing thickly. “It’s the Head Boy.” 
Both the boys swore under their breaths. You steeled yourself, knowing that panic was not going to get you anywhere. As quietly as possible, you retrieved Harry’s cloak and beckoned the boys underneath it. 
“We’re so fucked,” Ron mumbled. 
“No, we’re not,” you chided sternly. “Get under the cloak and don’t make a sound.” 
Harry scooted in beside you, clutching the invisible fabric over his shoulders. “Do you have a plan?” 
You nodded. “Run like hell and don’t get caught.” 
“That’s a bloody terrible plan!” said Ron. 
With a glare, you tugged the redhead underneath the cloak. “Then please, let us hear your brilliant idea, Ronald.” Ron stayed quiet, his freckled face etched with fear. “That’s what I thought. Now stay close and for Merlin’s sake, try not to stomp around like a damned erumpent.”
Stupid. 
Idiotic. 
Terrible. 
Every ounce of apprehension you felt earlier that night came rushing back as the three of you cowered in the darkness. It was pitch-black in the corridor, but you didn’t dare cast lumos for fear of getting caught. Thankfully, a small light up ahead provided you with a vague sense of direction. You remembered passing the lit emerald sconce on the way down. All you had to do was get back to the entrance without running into the head boy. 
The glimmer of hope became clearer and clearer as you neared the stairs that would lead you out of the dungeons. You were so close. Barely a few metres away from freedom. 
Just as you thought you were safe, Ron knocked into a table, sending one of the snake sculptures guarding the alcove to the common room tumbling. The marble cracked against the concrete, breaking into a million pieces just like your hope of escaping. 
“Run!” you huffed, urging the boys to go on. 
A solid plan if you hadn’t been nearly blind in the dark. You could hear the shuffling of footsteps beside you. Three sets belonging to you, Harry, and Ron, while an unknown fourth inched closer and closer. Whoever it was wasn’t running, but they were definitely in pursuit. 
You stumbled through the dark, nearly tripping over your own feet. From up ahead, you could hear Harry and Ron urging you on. As you broke into a sprint, paints and brushes came spilling out of your satchel. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve abandoned your art supplies, but leaving them behind would fully incriminate the three of you. In the time it took to pick up the damning evidence, you stopped hearing your friend’s voices. 
It would’ve worried you, but in all honesty, you were relieved. If you could no longer hear the boys, then that meant they made it safely out of the serpent’s nest. A feat in itself given their track record. Those two couldn’t be inconspicuous if they tried. Without the need to worry for them, you were confident that you’d be able to slip out undetected. 
In hindsight, you were perhaps a tad bit overconfident. You were great at sneaking around, but apparently not good enough to slip the head boy’s notice. As soon as you started to creep past the dormitories, you ran into a wall that hadn’t been there before. 
Except it wasn’t a wall. 
It was a strong, firm chest. A chest that belonged to none other than Tom Riddle. 
Leave it to your terrible luck to run straight into the arms of the scariest boy in the castle. 
Determined not to cower, you lifted your chin defiantly and faced Tom head on. “Head Boy,” you greeted in acknowledgment. 
Emerald eyes unflinchingly surveyed you, that intense green stare sweeping from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. Beneath the faint glow of the Black Lake pouring in through the stained glass windows, you could’ve easily mistaken Tom Riddle for an angel. He looked like an illustration straight out of the Sistine Chapel. Beautiful, intricate, perfect. 
Yet utterly terrifying. 
Danger prickled at your skin as Tom’s lips curved into a sinister smirk. “My, my, what do we have here? A little dove out of her cage.” 
You bristled as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his voice a seductive caress. It was low, husky, and a little rough around the edges. Just like its speaker. Tom plucked a paintbrush out of your satchel and examined it between his fingers. “I saw what you did to Snape’s office. Quite artistic, aren’t you?” 
A part of you considered denying it, but it would’ve been a futile attempt. There was paint splattered all over your skirt and flecks of it were already drying on your skin. Tom had quite literally caught you red handed. The only thing you could do was to own up to it and face whatever consequences came as a result of your foolish actions. 
“Are you going to turn me in to the headmaster?” 
Tom shook his head, his brown wavy hair falling over one eye. “Not until I catch your two helpers.” 
Panic seized your body. It may be too late for you, but Tom hadn’t seen either Harry or Ron. There was a chance they could come out of this unscathed. 
“I was alone,” you declared with your chin held high. “There was no one else with me.” 
Anger contorted Tom’s handsome features. Those emerald eyes lit up in flames as he backed you into a wall, bracketing each side of your head with his arms as he leaned down. You tried not to cower under the intensity of his stare, but gods was it hard. Tom towered a good foot over you and as if that weren’t intimidating enough, he also blocked every possibility of escape with his body. 
“Don’t lie to me, little dove,” Tom growled, tilting your chin up with one hand. “I heard three sets of footsteps running through the corridor.” 
You swallowed thickly, praying to Merlin to grant you the ability to flawlessly lie your arse off. “I swear, it was just me. No one else. I did it all by myself.” 
Tom hummed as if unconvinced. “Well, you’re certainly on your own now. Your idiotic friends left you down in the dungeons all alone. Don’t you know that dangerous things lurk in the dark around here, Y/N?” 
“Like I said, I was alone.” 
“So it appears,” Tom said, flashing you a smile that told you he was the most dangerous thing lurking in the dungeons. “Poor little dove wandering the serpent’s nest all on her own. Hasn’t anyone told you that us Slytherins have teeth?” 
“Why?” In an idiotic surge of courage, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could pull them back in. “Do you plan on biting me, Tom?” 
Tom grabbed your jaw roughly, making you whimper in surprise. “Insolent girl. You’ll learn your lesson soon enough.” 
Without warning, he grabbed you by the elbow and started dragging you down the corridor. At first, you were certain that Tom was taking you to Dumbledore’s office, but as the minutes ticked by, you realized that you were going in the opposite direction. If anything, he was leading you right into the heart of the dungeons. 
Tom’s grip tightened to the point of pain as he guided you up a set of twin staircases, practically flying up the steps on the right side, which you assumed led to the dormitories. It had a similar layout to the Gryffindor common room, except instead of leading into the towers, the narrow hallway opened into an intricate maze in the lower levels of the castle. 
Nestled into the underbelly of Hogwarts was a large, dark room that was surrounded by more stained glass walls that looked out into the Black Lake. A school of fish swam by as Tom ushered you through the door, which he promptly locked behind him with a series of complicated spells you had no hope of deciphering. 
You were trapped. Alone in a room. With Tom Riddle.
Upon closer inspection, you surmised that this had to be his private suite. It was twice as large as your dorm back in the towers and extremely private. A luxury that only the Head Boy and Head Girl enjoyed. 
“You’ve been very bad, little dove,” Tom reprimanded. "You deserve to be punished, but I’ll tell you what. Give up the names of your accomplices and I might find it in my heart to go easy on you.” 
His drawling voice echoed in the bedroom as he leaned back against his desk, twirling his wand between his fingers. The look he leveled at you is enough to awaken your fear. Plus another emotion that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. 
Merlin, Tom was sizing you up like he was the lion and you were the helpless deer frolicking through the meadow. You steeled yourself and doubled down on your lies. 
“There was no one else, Tom.” 
He smirked as though you’d given him the answer he’d hoped to hear. Tom stopped twirling his wand, tucking it away in his back pocket as he stalked over to you. “Very well, then. I suppose you’ll just have to endure their punishments too.” 
You swallowed past the lump in your throat. It occurred to you that while you had your wand, you were completely and utterly defenseless against Tom. It should’ve scared you shitless, but instead you felt a strange sort of thrill as he came closer. “What…what sort of punishment?” 
A smirk curved at his lips as he fisted your hair between his fingers and tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “I think you know, babydoll.” 
Heat ignited in your veins as your tongue darted out to sweep across your bottom lip. “This is crazy,” you whispered. “Shouldn’t you be telling Dumbledore? Snape? Someone in charge?” 
“I’m the one in charge,” Tom growled as he shoved you against his bookshelf. Your back hit solid wood, disturbing the neatly organized tomes behind you. “You snuck into my dungeons, under my watch, and defaced my home. I will dole out your punishment as I see fit.” 
“And if I refuse?” You asked, hoping that you emulated the bravery that your house was infamous for.
Tom pressed his body against yours, leaving barely a hairsbreadth between you as he flashed you a feral smile. “It’s laughable that you still think you have a choice.” 
“I could scream bloody murder. Wake the entire castle up and alert everyone that you're holding a fellow student against her will."
“You could,” Tom mused as amusement flickered in his eyes. “But we both know you won’t.” 
“What makes you so sure?” 
“You’d never risk such a scandalous act to go on your record. First vandalizing Professor Snape’s office, then sneaking into the Head Boy’s dorm after curfew? You’re on a downward spiral, aren’t you, little dove?” 
“I didn’t sneak into your dorm. You dragged me in here.” 
“Please,” Tom said with a scoff. “Let’s not pretend that you don’t want to be here. I’ve been watching you, you know. The perfect little Gryffindor good girl. You think you have everyone fooled, but not me.” You groaned as he pinned your hips in place, sliding his thigh between your legs. 
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me in class? Bending over in that tiny little skirt of yours hoping I’ll glance your way? Leaving the buttons to your blouse undone so you can give me a view of that lacy red bra? Biting your lip when you’re thinking dirty thoughts about me in class?” 
You flushed at his spot on assessment. Tom might be right on the mark, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. Not when your pride was on the line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Dirty little liar.” Tom whispered against the shell of your ear. “You know, your mental shields are impressive, but it’s like you can’t help yourself when I’m around. You’re practically broadcasting your filthy fantasies every time we’re in the same room.” 
Fuck. 
This was bad. 
This was really fucking bad.
How many times had you sat in class staring at Tom while thinking the filthiest, dirtiest thoughts about him? Tom bending you over a desk. Tom slipping his fingers under your skirt. Tom making you scream with his head between your thighs.
All this time, he had complete access to those dirty daydreams.
“That’s right, doll. You may be a powerful occlumens, but you’re no match for my legilimency.” He chuckled darkly, caressing your jaw. 
A heavy pressure weighed down the constraints of your defenses as Tom poked around in your mind, teasing and taunting as a lover would. The act of him prodding around in your subconscious was oddly sensual, mixing pain and pleasure together as he waited for you to yield. 
There’s no use hiding now, Tom whispered into your subconscious. I’ve already seen inside your mind, doll. And your thoughts are just as fucking filthy as mine. 
Glimpses of your deepest, darkest fantasies flashed through your mind. The images were a never ending rolodex of filth and smut. Tom fucking you like his perfect little slut. Tom panting above you as he spread your legs. Tom working you with his fingers until you were a sobbing, whimpering mess. 
He was right. You were shameless. 
But so was he. A new image of you on your knees while Tom unbuckled his belt, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you stared up expectantly took center stage. Since it was from his point of view, you could only assume that he was showing you one of his fantasies. It was oddly satisfying. Tom was basking in the depravity with you, sharing his equally fucked up thoughts. 
“Tom…” you breathed, leaning into his touch as he continued to pin you against the wooden bookshelf. 
“Not Tom,” he grunted gruffly. “You’ll address me properly from now on, little dove.” 
This was so fucked up and yet so hot at the same time. You were so turned on you could hardly speak. “Yes, sir.” 
“That’s better, doll.” Tom declared with a smirk. “Now that I’ve been inside of your head, I plan on being inside you in every other way as well. Starting with that pretty little mouth of yours. On your knees, little dove.” 
A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as you knelt onto the floor. The concrete nipped at your knees, but you welcomed the pain. It kept you centered as your body buzzed with anticipation. You watched as Tom unbuckled his belt, deft fingers slowly sliding his boxers down as he gripped himself with one hand. 
With a smirk, Tom brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, looking down at you with lust blown eyes. “Open wide, babydoll.” 
Tom pumped himself slowly. The sight of his cock made your mouth water, your head spinning and dizzy with desire as you tried to calculate how you were going to take all of him. The tip of his cock glistened with precum as he rubbed over it. Tom was thick, long, and absolutely delicious. You groaned as he rubbed his head over your lips, the salty taste of his arousal resting on your tongue. 
“I won’t ask again,” Tom warned. “Be a good girl and open your mouth. I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before he shoved his way in. Your lips parted for him, opening your mouth wider as you accommodated his size. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 
You nodded obediently, eyes filling with tears as you took Tom all the way back. He fisted your hair in one hand and rocked against your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. A garbled sound crawled out of your chest, but it was soon silenced with Tom’s impatient thrusts. 
“Fuck,” Tom cursed. “So wet and warm. Such a perfect little throat. What a pity that I’m about to ruin it.” 
Ruin was an understatement. Tom fucked your throat with precise thrusts, angling deeper and deeper and groaning as you gagged on his cock. He was so deep that you could feel him bruising your tonsils. The more he abused your throat, the wetter your pussy got. You were practically soaked as you moaned on his cock, sucking your cheeks in and bobbing your head up and down to take more of him. 
“Such pretty noises,” Tom said, his fingers curling through your hair to the point of pain. He tugged at your scalp, forcing you to meet his eyes as you sucked him off. “If your mouth feels this good around my cock, then I can’t even imagine what your cunt will feel like.” 
You groaned in pleasure, making Tom’s eye roll back from the vibrations. Controlled, compulsive, and perfectly composed Tom Riddle was fading before you, replaced by a man driven only by his base desires. He was an animal lost to lust and so were you. 
Tom squeezed your throat, groaning when he felt himself moving beneath his grip. “Your throat was made to be fucked, doll. You like that, don’t you? You love it when I’m rough.” 
You struggled to nod in acknowledgement, saliva sloppily collecting in the corner of your mouth as you continued to let him use you for his own pleasure. Tom chuckled at your pathetic attempt to respond. “Don’t bother answering, little dove. You won’t be able to speak when I’m done with you anyways.” 
The filth flowing effortlessly from his mouth made you clench your thighs together. Tom threw his head back, those pretty curls tousled and plastered against his sweat soaked skin. A moan tore through his chest as he got closer and closer, fucking into your mouth with reckless abandon. He chased after his orgasm, shuddering as he spurted hot ribbons down your throat. 
“Fuck. You see what you do to me? Swallow, doll. Every single fucking drop.” 
The fantasies that you’ve been harboring for the past few years finally came to fruition, but none of it came close to reality. Tom was a fucking god. A masterpiece coming undone above you. You’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. All the artwork in the world would’ve paled in comparison to witnessing Tom Riddle at his most vulnerable. 
In awe and wonder, you looked up at him with mascara streaked eyes, tears and saliva staining your face. Tom hauled you to your feet and claimed you with his mouth. The taste of him was still on your lips, but Tom didn’t seem to mind as he parted your lips with his tongue. The kiss was neither sweet nor innocent. It was dark and dangerous and there was an edge of possessiveness in the way he demanded your submission. Almost like he was marking his territory. 
Tongues, teeth, and lips met with a clash as Tom carried you over to his desk. His books and journals clattered to the ground as his teeth grazed the column of your throat. The taste of him was intoxicating and you licked, sucked, and nipped at every inch of skin he allowed access to. You gasped into his mouth as Tom parted your legs, not bothering to warn you as he palmed your soaked panties. 
Your core clenched as he slipped a finger inside of your pussy. A squelching sound filled the room as Tom added another digit, pumping you full and fucking you with his middle and pointer fingers as you begged for more. He knew exactly what he was doing. Tom studied you like one of his books, with meticulous precision and alarming intensity, pouring all of his efforts and attention into making your body sing. 
It wasn’t long before that familiar warmth singed your veins, your moans growing louder and more desperate as you clawed at Tom’s back. You were so, so close. You were practically riding his hand as he brought you closer to the precipice. Just when you were about to come, Tom pulled away and denied you the orgasm. 
“Don’t be mistaken, doll. This is still a punishment.” Tom said as you whined from the loss. He silenced your complaints by bending you over his desk. 
“Tom, please—“ You clawed at the wood as he lined up and filled you with one sharp thrust. “Oh my fucking gods.” 
Tom gripped your hips, the slap of his skin against yours echoing in the room as he fucked you from behind. He was relentless, thrusting in and out and arching your back while he railed the absolute life out of you. It wasn’t long before you were getting close again. The sharp angles of his thrusts had him hitting all the right spots, making your knees weak and your pussy sensitive from the roughness of his actions. Sensing that you were close, he rutted into you, letting that tension uncoil before ripping the orgasm away from you once more. You whined, fresh tears soaking your cheeks as you chased after that high. 
“Like I said, this is still a punishment,” Tom taunted, slowing his thrusts to a snail’s pace. “That’s two orgasms I’ve taken from you, which leaves you with two more. Four for every wall you defaced. It should be twelve, given that you had help, but I’m in a forgiving mood. I think I’ll just spank the other eight out of you instead.” 
With your head bowed, you wiped the tears off of your cheeks and braced yourself. You knew that he was telling the truth. To Tom, this was mercy. You should’ve found it sadistic, but you fucking loved it. Maybe you were a masochist. Whatever the case may be, it seemed like the two of you were a match made in heaven. 
“I’ll be good,” you whispered hoarsely. Your throat was still raw and sore from earlier. “I’ll happily take the punishment. I promise I’ll be good, sir.” 
Tom chuckled darkly, relishing in your submission. His hand came down with a hard smack against your right ass cheek, making you jolt from the contact. Before you could recover, he repeated the action on the left. 
“That’s two,” Tom said proudly. “Can you count out the rest, babydoll?” 
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip every time his large hand came down on your ass. His rings bit into the soft flesh of your skin, but it was a delicious sort of pain. One that you could easily become addicted to. 
Three. Tom tugged at your hair. 
Four. Teeth nipped at your shoulder. 
Five. Fingers curled around your throat. 
Six. Hips slammed against you. 
Seven. Lips trailed down your spine.
Eight. Moans echoed in your ears. 
When Tom slipped his fingers down to your clit, your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw fucking heaven. “It’s not a punishment if you’re enjoying yourself so much, little dove. I can feel you creaming my cock. You look so innocent, but you’re just a filthy fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” 
“Yes sir.” 
“So. Fucking. Perfect.” 
Tom emphasized each word with a thrust and worked your clit faster and faster, bringing you to the edge. This time, he didn’t pull back. Tom let the orgasm build until it threatened to wipe you out entirely. White hot heat coursed through your veins as stars exploded behind your eyes. You whimpered through the intensity of the orgasm. After being denied four times, the pleasure ripped through your body so fiercely that you nearly blacked out. 
“Fuck, let me fill you up,” Tom growled. “Take it, doll. I want you dripping with my cum.” 
“Yes, yes, oh gods. Please cum inside of me, sir.” 
Tom released a guttural grunt, gripping your hips in place as he filled you to the brim. Nothing in the world compared to the sensation of Tom filling you with his warm, wet cum. You glanced behind you and found him staring intently as he slipped out of you, stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it dripped down your folds. You bit your lip, utterly aroused by how fucking sexy this man was. 
His gaze met yours, a proud smile curving against his lips as he swept you off your feet and into his arms. “I think I’ll keep you, little dove.” 
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megxplryxb · 2 months
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Romance is Dead, Isn't it?
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Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.
The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.
Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.
February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.
Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.
“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.
“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.
“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.
Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.
"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.
"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.
“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.
“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.
“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.
"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.
"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.
"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.
“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.
"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.
“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.
“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.
“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”
“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.
“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.
“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.
“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.
“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”
“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.
Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.
"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.
"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.
"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.
"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.
"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.
"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.
“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.
“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.
“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.
“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.
You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.
“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.
“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.
He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.
“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.
You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?
You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.
One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.
The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.
“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.
“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.
“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.
“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvinced glance.
“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.
“I’ll get over it.”
“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”
“Yeah but maybe if—”
“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.
Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.
The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.
By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.
“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.
“That’s what best friends are for, right?”
“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.
“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.
“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”
“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.
“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.
“No, but I really need to—”
“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.
“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.
“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.
“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.
“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.
“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.
“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.
“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.
“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.
For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.
“Steve…”
“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.
You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.
“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.
“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.
“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”
“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.
“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”
“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.
“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.
“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.
“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.
“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.
The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?
That last thought made you want to throw up.
At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.
As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Steve?”
“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.
“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.
“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.
“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.
“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.
“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.
“Steve I—”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.
“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.
“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.
"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.
“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I remember last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains. You said they were your favourite.”
“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.
“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.
“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?
“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”
“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.
“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.
“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”
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The Alchemy
AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.
Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift
CW: Smut
Word Count: 6,871
Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.
It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.
Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.
Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.
Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 
Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."
I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 
"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 
Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."
As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.
"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."
Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."
I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."
She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."
Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.
"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.
As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.
Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 
I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 
I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 
Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.
Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 
For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 
That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.
As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.
"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."
I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.
But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."
Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.
The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.
Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.
"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."
I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 
"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 
Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 
"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"
His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 
I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 
Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.
"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 
"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 
My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.
I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.
I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:
"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H
I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.
I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.
I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.
After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.
I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.
Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.
I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.
His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.
I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.
The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.
I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.
Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.
As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.
By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.
Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.
I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 
"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 
Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 
I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 
"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 
Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.
I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 
Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.
Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 
I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 
As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.
At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 
In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.
As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.
"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.
"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.
"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.
Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 
I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 
"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 
I tilted my head. "Why's that?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."
Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 
"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 
Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...
But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 
Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 
He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.
As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.
I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.
A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.
As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.
Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."
I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."
Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."
He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.
"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."
I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."
Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."
We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.
I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.
Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.
The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.
Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 
His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 
"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.
Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.
"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.
My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.
Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.
Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.
Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”
As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.
Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.
"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."
He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.
I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.
"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.
Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.
"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .
"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 
My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 
I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.
My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.
My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.
"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."
I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.
My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.
And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.
He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.
But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 
As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."
I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 
"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."
He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.
"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.
As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.
We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.
"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.
I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.
"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.
I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.
"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.
I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."
He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.
My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.
"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.
A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.
Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.
Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.
As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.
The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.
Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.
His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.
The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.
I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.
Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.
One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.
I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.
Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.
He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.
Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.
"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.
"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."
Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.
“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.
“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”
The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.
I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.
He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.
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beenbaanbuun · 1 month
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air freshener w/poly woosan
It came as no surprise when San wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you up into his strong grip. His nose pressed into your neck as he inhaled deeply, sighing with the exhale.
“You smell of work,” he grumbled as he carried you through to the living room. He threw himself down on the couch, dragging you along with him. “That stupid lemon air freshener that Jaehyun keeps on his desk.”
You brought your blouse to your nose, sniffing it gently. Sure enough, behind the overwhelming scent of Wooyoung’s cologne (he wouldn't let you leave the house that morning without spritzing you a few times… possessive bastard) there was a hint of lemon. It was barely noticeable, but to San, it was the end of the world.
“You smell of that little weirdo again?” Wooyoung called as he poked his head through from the kitchen. He had that stupid joke apron on, the one San bought him for his birthday, and you tried to hold back the giggle that rose up your throat. The frown on his face and the cooking knife in his hand were hardly helping to make him look anything other than silly. Not that you'd ever complain about your boyfriends being adorable. “Seriously, babe! Who keeps an air freshener on their desk?”
“Someone who wants their work space to smell nice?” you lay back in San’s arms, letting him manhandle you a little until you were sat sideways in his lap, legs kicked out to the side. “Maybe he doesn't like the overwhelming scent of men’s cologne that comes from me day in, day out.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes over dramatically.
“You smell perfectly fine, brat,” he scowled, “besides, maybe we don't want you coming home smelling like another man’s lemon air freshener!”
“It's hardly like he can control where the smell goes,” you sighed, “you're just being jealous over nothing again.”
Wooyoung went to open his mouth, probably about to threaten you with a punishment, but San shooed him away with a flick of the wrist. With a perfectly on-character stomp of his foot, the shorter man retreated into the kitchen to finish whatever masterpiece he'd decided to cook for the three of you today.
But you knew you weren't safe, even with Wooyoung gone. While he may have expressed his feelings loudly and proudly, the man behind you wasn't exactly the silent type himself. You felt his breath against your ear, and you internally groaned.
“We're not jealous, baby,” San whispered against your ear, as if trying to soothe an angry dog. You weren't angry - far from it, you actually thought this was quite amusing - but San had always been the calmer, less explosive of your two boyfriends. “We just like it when you smell of us. You know how we get…”
He kissed the shell of your ear softly. Without prior knowledge of San, it wouldve been hard to tell whether it was an entirely innocent gesture or not. You knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, though. Before the night was over, you were going to smell like them again.
“Possessive?” You cocked your eyebrow at the man. He chuckled.
“Call it primal instinct, babe,” he said.
You snort as you giggle.
“My boyfriends are cavemen, got it.”
You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you couldn't help but let out a little giggle. It was always fun to say the role of the mouse, tempting fate by dancing around the big bad wolf’s feet. He was often more patient than the fox that was now humming a little tune in the kitchen. One would pounce immediately, while the other would let you play a little.
You were grateful you'd landed in San’s lap rather than Wooyoung’s. After the day you'd had, being a little shit sounded like the perfect way to relieve some stress.
“You're pushing your luck,” he sang in your ear, “you're lucky I sent Youngie away. If it were up to him you'd already be bent over and your cheeks would be a pretty shade of pink, hm?”
“Yeah, because he's a brat who can't stand it when anyone else gets the last word…”
San chucked darkly into your hair as his hands began to roam across your body. They were gentle, yet possessive, only further proving your point.
“He's the brat?” San shook his head, “I think we both know that you're the only one guilty of that. Youngie just doesn't like it when you argue for the sole purpose of riling us up…”
“It's not for the sake of riling you up,” you whine as if you're not lying through your teeth. As if you're not fully aware of the fact that San knows you too well to believe you, “you're being jealous over nothing. It's an air freshener, it's not like he's been fucking me over his desk.”
And just like that, a switch flipped. Whether it was the blatant lie about their jealousy, or the final comment you made that pushed him over the edge, you couldn’t care less. All you cared about was the dangerous look that swam through his dark eyes. He looked ready to pounce and if you said much else, you had no doubt that he would.
His hands came to a still when they reached your hips. Strong fingers squeezed your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake with how hard his grip was. You should've winced, but you smiled instead, getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of the dull ache you felt.
“Bold words for someone entirely at my mercy,” San growled in your ear, sharp teeth nipping at the lobe, “you know just as well as we know that that man wouldn't even dare touch what's not his. He doesn't have the balls to even look you in the eyes, hm? Let alone fuck you…”
You squirmed in his lap, or at least tried to. The grip he had on your hips was tight, and it only grew tighter as you wriggled around. Your fun lasted just a few seconds before he pinned you in place again.
“Fucking behave,” he said with gritted teeth, “don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, brat. Carry this on and you’ll get nothing.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you grumbled. He just laughed. Loud and brash as he tipped his head back against the couch.
“Good one, babe,” he squeezed your hip one final time before letting his hand move to rest upon the button of your pants, “now shut up and let me remind you who you belong to.”
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stargirlstabber · 4 months
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obedient little bitch
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featuring. alpha!konig x omega!reader x alpha!ghost
cw. !smut! a/b/o dynamics, oral (m! giving and recieving), throat fucking, breeding, cockwarming , threesome, stomach bulge, a little dub-con, face sitting, a bit thigh riding, fingering
a/n. i present you a masterpiece which was written by my bestie, who doesn't have a tumblr acc ^^ copy/pasted it and did some changes. credit goes to my lil pookie baby :3
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~Ghost POV~
It was just another day like many. Get up, eat, patrols and missions, repeat. Boring and draining until I walked down the halls with a college of mine ,Konig. Despite us both being alphas we got along...well most of the time.
Most of us here were alphas ,we had an omega here a year ago as far as I remember but he died on the battle field. To no ones surpise being honest.
Walking down into our quarters, it felt like every nerve in my body was suddenly on edge ,I looked over at my friend. I could only see his pupils delate and the way he was beginning to sweat under his balaclava before both of us knew exactly what drove us wild...only a sweet and innocent little omega in fresh heat could cause something like this.
Neither of us wasted any time to follow that sweet ,sweet scent of pheromones in the air. To our suprise, the alluring smell brought us right to our room. So our little cadet was indeed just an omega that hid herself from us what a naughty ,naughty girl...
Quickly bursting into the door we already saw her on the bed ,panting ,sweating ,curled up on her bed with a nest built of our clothing. I could already smell that sweet cunt calling for me.
Before I even registered it ,Konig had ripped off his balaclava ,barley able to contain himself from pouncing on this sweet little thing. I would be lying if I said I didnt want to sink my teeth into that delicate little neck.
Smirking ,the both of us hungrily walked over to her. The fear yet begging to be knotted in her eyes was all we needed to know. Neither of us had to say a word before that obedient little bitch in heat rolled onto her back ,exposing that cute tummy.. which soon will bulge with cum...from us.
"Please- I.." ,she panted ,begging softly , "I don't know what's going on.." "A first time heater hm?.." ,Konig chuckled darkly ,the thrive to ruin that innocent litte slut was written all over his face.
She nod pathetically ,whining softly for us. My friend was the first to climb onto the bed with her ,quickly getting rid of his ,either way ,sweaty shirt. I could hear him growling before he went down on her. Grabbing her by the legs and dragging her towards him ,pulling her onto his lap. And fuck would I be a liar if this didn't turn me on ,but I decided to be patient for now ,sitting down on the edge of the bed while slowly palming my already hard cock through my pants.
Konig on the other hand wasn't patient ,he quickly got to work and pulled off her shirt ,as she wrapped her delicate arms around his neck he began to grope those perfect breasts. Not to big ,not to small ,perfectly fitting into the palm. And shit ,it almost made me cum on the spot when I heard her moan and his silent groan fill the air.
"I bet those nipples are begging to get sucked hm?... Little Omegas like you are always so sensitive in their heat.." ,he chuckled before unclipping her bra ,throwing it off to the side. Damn was it a sight to see those perfect tits bounce slightly, begging to be sucked. And rather quickly was their wish acknowledged as I heard Konigs slurps fill the air. Watching her arch ,throw her head back and whimper as her hands tangeled into his hair.
It was to much. Even if I wanted to be patient I simply had to ,pulling down my pants and slowly teasing my sensitive tip with my thumb. My friend on the other hand rolled her sensitive nipples between his fingers ,pulling and pinching them, earning moan after moan from that eager little omega.
Mindlessly, she began to grind her hips along his tigh. "That sweet little pussy must be begging for friction." ,I tought to myself. "Yeah ,you like riding my thigh?" ,Konig groaned ,flexing his thigh before grabbing her hips , controlling the pace as he slowly dragged that delicious cunt along his thigh. It was one hell of a show to see these two get all hot and bothered. Like a real time porn, but better of course, and I was defenetily not complaining.
Watching my friend drag his tounge between her tits before sucking on one of those nipples ,hell ,what would I give to suck on those breasts. I heard him groan as he moved his hand down ,his thumb finding her sweet little clit. Rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nerve bundle ,adding to the sensation of her slick folds dragging along his thigh.
This was simply to much , I wasn't able to control myself any longer. I had to get a taste of that sweet wetness. "Move man." ,I growled under my breath as I stomped over, snatching that sweet omega from his lap and throwing her onto the bed and ripping off any remaining clothes that could get between me and my meal. "Damn ,someone's hungry" ,Konig snickered. His voice thick with lust and desire.
It was his time to wait and watch while I had my fun. She looked all shy ,rubbing those soft thighs together in desperate need of friction. Laying down on my back I pulled her on top of me ,my hands locking around her thighs as I pulled her dripping cunt to my face ,yet she pulled back ,hesitating.
"I'll suffocate you..." ,that sweet thing mumbled nervously. "Even if you do ,that horny slut would die a happy man ,now sit down." ,Konig demanded while pushing her hips down. I felt her weight on me ,yet it didn't bother me. She earned herself a groan once I let my tongue run through her folds and those plush thighs locked around my head.
I was eating that sweet pussy like a starved man ,lapping between her entrance and that soft clit ,licking ,teasing ,sucking those sensitive sweet spots. I couldn't see ,but I felt her arching her back ,moaning and crying my name while her delicate fingers ran through my hair. It felt like she tried to shove my face deeper into that sweetness and let me tell you ,I was surely not gonna complain.
"Fuck- you taste so damn good.." ,I rasped ,getting lost in the moment before I felt someone grab onto my exposed dick ,slowly dragging their hand along my shaft. I mindlessly bucked my hips up into the delicious friction until something clicked.
This wasn't this sweet omegas hand ,the hand felt way to rough and big for that ,her hands were still tangled in my hair anyway. And once I heard that motherfucker groan ,I knew it. "Konig-!" ,I snarled. That bitch only chuckled in response. "Relax..keep licking that cunt clean while I work on some...business" ,he snickered before my eyes almost rolled back. The sensation of his warm mouth greedily welcoming my tip ,his lips wrapping around my length ,swallowing inch after inch ,painfully slow.
I never tought I was intrested in men but damn was that tall-ass good at sucking cock. While Konig seemed to be enjoying his meal, I was enjoying mine. Meanwhile my hands got to work too ,two of my fingers finding their way into that little pussy ,rubbing and stimulating her g-spot, while sucking on her clit did wonders and slowly worked that tightness open.
Heavy slurps filled the room as Konig had managed to swallow all of me ,his tongue massaging the underside of my shaft ,bobbing his head up and down as his hand gently squeezed and played with my balls. Shit-..I knew my family jewelery was sensitive but fuck, Konig took it to a whole other level.
That cocky fuck has been edging me for a while now ,no matter how much I bucked my hips he would always stop sucking last second. "Shove his fucking head down-!" ,I snarled between licking those tasty juices.
And ta-da. My obedient princess obeyed in no time ,grabbing onto Konigs head and shoving it down ,all the way till his nose touched my pubic bone.He gagged loudly ,his pretty throat tightening around my thick shaft. Fuck ,I could've came right on the spot. What little pleasure can do to a women ,mindlessly obeying commands. Either way ,I was just as eager to taste her cum so I let my fingers work quicker.
"I'm gonna- Simon please ,please-! I'm gon-!" ,she cried out. And before she could even finish her sentence I felt her walls almost crush my fingers. Her juices flew out of her and right onto my eager tongue. I quickly swallowed up all of her sweet juices.
Konig in the meantime continued to slurp around my shaft ,I could feel his saliva dripping down between my legs. I don't even care to be honest ,spit running out of his mouth and all over me. With a finally squeeze of my balls ,I came ,harder than I expected.Konig groaned and gagged around my twitching cock as ropes of warm white cum slowly ran down his throat. And before I had to even say a word ,he swallowed.
That sweet omega was panting ,almost limp as she barley had the strength to keep herself upright. And once Konig released my shaft I settled her down on the bed. "Let her head hang of the bed." ,my friend rasped with a smug grin. And so I did. Moving her either way limp body so her head hung off the bed slightly.
I didn't care what Konig had planned. What I cared for was this pussy. Grabbing her thighs and spreading them pretty once more as I grabbed my dick ,slowly teasing my tip around her entrance. That sweet yelp was all I needed to know before I slid the tip in. That slut was so wet it slid in like butter. Her thighs trembeled in my hands as I slowly inserted inch after inch.She arched her back of the bed ,panting like a dog while her eyes rolled back.
"Cute slut.." ,Konig cooed before rubbing his tip with pre over her lips. "Now say ah~..." obediently ,she opened her mouth ,placing her hands against his thighs before letting him stuff his dick into her mouth like some cheap whore. She gagged ,yet I heard her submissively slurp and suck his cock. And taking by the way he groaned and bucked his hips, Konig loved it.
Those tight walls wrapped around me- fuck I felt like a virgin again ,getting pussy for the first time was nothing compared to this hot ,tight little cunt. She had adjusted enough in my eyes before I began to gently pull out and slam back in. Her whole body rocked forward ,and watching those tits bounce? Incredible. My hand moved between our connected bodies to rub her clit. My goal was to leave a mark on that body. My dick reaching depths she probably didn't know existed.
Fucked from rear and front she took it like a slut. Our pretty little slut at that. It didn't take long before Konig shoved his cock balls deep into that sweet mouth ,groaning out "cumming-" ,before slowly pulling out of her mouth. "Good girl.." ,he praised while gently caressing her throat.
His sharp gaze now lingered on me as I fucked this pussy into exercy. She was a moaning mess ,arching her back before she came without a warning ,probably to dumbfucked to get a proper word out. The way that already tight pussy gripped my cock made it feel like she was crushing it. Which ,to no ones suprise ,made me cum at that tightness. I let her ride out her delicious high by lazily rolling my hips into hers ,rubbing her clit raw until she jerked away at the slightest friction.
I pulled out slowly ,watching my cum ooze out of her little hole. Now as I looked at that sweaty ,fucked out mess of an Omega ,her tummy indeed had a slight bulge from my cum nestled inside her. "Ah ah ah..dont waste those precious juices." ,Konig spoke sofly yet with a chuckle before he pulled her into a spooning position. Slowly inserting his thick shaft into her twitching hole ,stopping any cum from seeping out further. She moaned at the sensation yet stayed limp and all cuddly in his arms.
"Cockwarming eh?" ,I teased. "What can I say ,I like a warm ,tight pussy wrapped around me." ,Konig snickered back before beginning to caress her hair. A little cuddle session after this didn't sound too bad...so I decided to join them ,getting next to our well bred little omega and wrapping my arms around her.
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Yuus Food Truck
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In which Azul loses his mind over a grilled cheese.
Content stuff: short, one sided enemies to lovers, Azul being a loser, general cringe.
Posting Reqs like this for a bit until Tumblr lets us edit asks. I had a request for Enemies to Lovers with Azul, so I came up with this.
That goddamned Prefect was the bane of Azul's existence. For the past few weeks, he has been gripping his leg in absolute rage within his office as he stares at his weekly reports. Practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of you.
Recently, the little Ramshackle prefect has begun a new business venture. A simple food truck on campus selling only grilled cheeses for a singular madol. That's it. He found the idea a bit funny, he'll admit, but he was far from worried.
Surely after a month it would shut down, or at the very least get so few customers it wouldn't impact his business. I mean come on, how much money are you really making from selling grilled cheeses for one dollar? You must be taking a loss!
He was wrong. So so wrong.
Not only have you somehow been profiting from your little side project, but you have taken all of his customers. He is looking over his lounge, nowhere near as full as it usually is. He grits his teeth and heads back into the VIP room. The twins should be here any minute now. 
On cue, the door creaks open, and in come those rowdy twins both with their usual smirks. Azul jerks up, staring up at Jade from his desk. His hand shook ever slightly as he gripped the feather in his hand.
“Well? Did you get it?” The mer asks, gaze steely. Floyd speaks for the both of them through mouthfuls of grilled cheese.
“Mmmhmm yeah, we got you a cheese, here you go. Mmmm.” Floyd took another bite of his as he tossed the wrapped-up grilled cheese onto the desk. 
“Hey watch the merchandise– Are you eating their food?" Azul stared at both of them. Floyd stuffing his face with the one in his hand and Jade elegantly nibbling on his own. He was shocked, betrayed by his own staff. “You guys gave them more money— ugh. I would have expected this of Floyd but you too Jade?”
“The prefect saw me ordering and put some mushrooms into mine that pair well with the cheese. Free of charge as well. How thoughtful of them. I must commend their customer service.” Jade wore a shit-eating smirk on his face as he took another bite, making a show out of it. He seemed to relish in Azul's misery.
“Free of charge?” Azul was flabbergasted. Not only were their prices ridiculously low but they were adding things for free? They might as well be handing their money away at that point.
“Right? I say they should have charged Jade for all he's worth for putting those damn things on. Yuck…” Floyd wrinkled his nose as he side eyed Jade, who just continued to eat blissfully. 
He needed to figure out just what was so good about the damn things. Gloved hands carefully lifted up the wrapped delicacy with such fragility as if it would break from a gust of wind. The wrapping was done well, nice and neat as he peeled it off to reveal what was inside.
Crisped and perfectly brown buttered white bread. It glistened in the light with its heavenly beauty. The cheese was ooey and gooey and so thick that it ran down the sides. So far the presentation was beautiful, but it was pretty damn difficult to fucked up a grilled cheese. He tried to hold back this drool from the smell alone.
Carefully, he took a bite and closed his eyes. His mouth was blasted with flavor. As he savored that magical bite, a gust of wind swept through the room, causing the curtains to dance dramatically. The cheesy aroma lingered, creating an ambiance fit for a culinary masterpiece. This grilled cheese has unlocked secrets of the universe with how much it expanded his mind. This mere sandwich has him on the brink of tears
Azul has to hold his expression. He's not gonna be impressed by some measly sandwich. He's better than that. Though he thought that maybe by tasting it he could be able to figure out what your secret ingredient was, it's clear that isn't the case… This is a simple grilled cheese. He would have to go undercover to discover your cooking secrets.
***
“Heyyy Prefect!” A wry voice hums near the truck, belonging to no other than Ruggie. He knocked on the side of the window and Yuu poked out their head.
Azul watched from the distance, narrowing his eyes as he hyper-focused on the conversation. He admits the front of the Ramshackle dorms was a great location. Close to the botanical garden, close to the main building, not as far as Octavinelle either, and had most of the foot traffic. It's why he had his eye on it for a second location.
“Well if it isn't my number one customer, what can I get ya, let me guess a grilled cheese?” Of course, Ruggie would be their number one customer, which makes sense given his financial state. Figures. Maybe if he introduced a dollar menu…
“You know what Ruggie, you're cool. For you, it's 50 cents. Two for one if you will.” Ruggie pauses for a moment before smiling again. “Awe really? Sweet, can't up a deal like that shyehehehe!” The hyena cackles and you get to work. The window for the truck is fully open, allowing Azul to see in.
You aren't even hiding your cooking technique?! You're just giving all your secrets away like that?! Ohh you foolish fool… This would be easier than he thought.
He must get closer, to see what sort of fuckery is at play here. However, walking up and just watching you cook work is suspicious. As much as he hates to fund this little project… sacrifices must be made… He will have to order a grilled cheese…
Ruggie slinks off, tail wagging happily as he munches on his food. This was the perfect opportunity to approach. He stood up even straighter and approached with determination hidden poorly behind his attempt at a straight face. His scowl dared to seep through but he managed to smooth it out into his sickenly sweet facade.
“Hello, dear prefect!” He watched Yuu perk up through the window as they wiped down their workspace. They glanced over at Azul, completely unaware of his evil plot. “Heya Zuzu what can I get ya?”
Zuzu? That's awfully bold… whatever eyes on the prize… 
“I'd like one grilled cheese please if I may…” Hell yes. Smooth operator. He's so good at this.
“Mkay, coming right up.” Azul leans in closer as you get to work, memorizing everything you do… You just make a grilled cheese… Nothing special. It's just simple bread and cheese you cook in butter. How the hell? Was it the oven perhaps? Did you somehow know of his intentions and we're trying to conceal it?? Ugh, whatever maybe he can sucker you into another deal.
“... You know Prefect, if you just raised the price a bit you'd be bringing in more profits.” 
You shrugged as you pressed down your creation with your spatula to make it sizzle more. “Yeah, I know how money works.” Azul paused and blinked.
“So why don't you do it?” You shrug again. “It's funny.” Azul was perplexed, bamboozled, perhaps even smeckledorfed perchance. You were doing this for fun?! Starting a business for fun. Not for profit which would be beneficial given your situation, but for fun.
“Fun? Really? But prefect– wouldn't you– shouldn't you consider raising the prices even slightly? I mean after all Crowley hasn't been paying you well and if anything—”
“I should shoot you for the mere suggestion of raising the grilled cheese prices. The price is firm. It's never going up even by a cent. Hell, I'm so offended I may lower it.” You pulled the cheese off the grill and started to pack it up, swaddling it with such delicacy and love reserved for newborns.
Azul's mouth hung open for a bit before closing it. “Are you serious? Prefect— Yuu at this point I'm not even mad about the competition I'm– hrk!”  
“You need to relax a little Azul, for your own sake.” You shoved the grilled cheese out the window a bit more forcefully than you intended, making the unwrapped part hit Azul's glasses. The melty butter left grease marks on them, and through the blurriness, he could see your expression. His heart skipped a beat and sucked in a breath. Oh no.
He was in love.
724 notes · View notes
fayeriess · 4 months
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⋆。‧₊°♱༺ WILD THING ༻♱༉‧₊˚.
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ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: filming a masterpiece came easy to you, despite how weak the material you were given to work with was. having to do it with someone you harbored such hate for is proving to be a little difficult. but she can simmer your spite with just a touch, can't she?
warnings: 70s au, 18+, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, sexual tension (??), mentions about the porn industry, pornstar!ellie, mentions of weed, weed usage, not proof-read
a/n: yet another reupload, haven't written an updated piece for ellie in a while but i just might after bringing back a shit ton of old works sitting in the drafts for you all to enjoy again ;)
“When I tell you that this is the best script to ever come into my hands, I mean it. But, all I’m saying is that we need some slight adjustments.” 
Glancing at the man in front of you, the twinge of hope that had developed within you just last week seemingly diminished, snuffed out with wet finger pads. You leaned back into the velvet red of the tiny seat, licking the top row of your pearly teeth, watching with low-lidded eyes as he waved his thick hands around — emphasizing how much he meant what he said. 
The sheen of sweat running down his forehead proved how harsh the heat was. More unbearable than usual as of late as the sun beamed with an orange hue through the glass pane of one of the many windows in the sizable van, mugginess forming in a thick cloud — mixing with the smoke from the lit joint between your ringed fingers. 
You crossed a leg over the other, the denim of your bell bottoms rubbing together, uncomfortably sticking to the bare skin beneath from the humidity. Guiding your fingers toward your mouth, you inhaled, listening to the crackle of the van radio as ‘White Room’ by Cream filled the tensed silence, happy toxins filling your cool mouth — the odd flavor combining with the peppermint gum that once twirled on the sides of your cheeks.
Humming, you shrugged. “Like what? Having a man fuck me instead of a woman?”  
A sheepish look came across his features, signaling that your words had made him just a tad disagreeable. You had to bite back the scoff that tried to force its way out of your mouth, shaking your head from side to side dramatically before pointing a manicured finger in his direction.
“You already know the type of shit I do, Paul.” The amused smile that painted your lips was once laced with malice. “I thought we were on the same page when you agreed to be my agent.” 
Paul was a bitter man. Then again, when aren’t men in general upset? Truthfully, you should’ve walked away from him the second you found his disgusting eyes raking up and down the expanse of your smooth legs, alcohol and a wrong impression exuding from his pores, violently washing over you in waves. He tried to chat you up but his words faltered when your eyes narrowed, the annoyance radiating off of your being at his very presence. 
As politely as you could, you told him to go fuck off — will all the disrespect in the world, of course. Eventually, he relented, but not before sliding a withered, folded paper card in your hands before leaving you to wallow alone. But alas, here you were, in the back of a fogged van on your way to film pornography. 
He put his palms up in defense, the buttons of his shirt halfway undone, giving you a visible view of curly chest hair in all its glory. Lifting the right corner of your lip, you grimaced, noting the way he frowned as soon as he saw your pained expression.
Sighing, he clapped his warm, sweaty palms together, figuring it’d be worth a shot to try once more. “I’m just putting my input out there, and -”
You interjected. “Where it isn’t needed. Thank you though.”
Narrowing his eyes, Paul waited until you sunk back into your seat, heaving out a heavy sigh before dragging a hand down his sweaty face. “Look, I know what I said about letting you do your thing with women, it’s what you’re comfortable with. But you’re audience is mainly men.” 
Bouncing your leg, you huffed, diverting your gaze to stare at something else other than him. Your nose hairs burned slightly from the scent and the stuffiness of the small area despite the small open window, it was suffocating. “Something I didn’t ask for. I do what I do for women.” 
“Obviously, but that’s not how they see it. They’re never going to see it that way. Might as well make money off of it … with someone like your audience.”
 Although he had a point, there was a part of you that could never give up on the very limited amount of queer women who enjoy what you do for their pleasure. You had once been in their shoes, scared of the consequences of touching yourself to the thought of women, guilt weighing down on your shoulders so heavily that you felt as if everyone had known exactly what you were into. It was something you had always been so cautious about — glancing at a pretty girl the wrong way, to bat your eyelashes at them as you so desperately wanted. 
The women you had been with had left you with empty sheets, and an even emptier heart, not ready to come to terms with the fact that you were exactly what they liked and not clean-shaven faces and strong-scented cologne. He was right. But, that’s not something you were willing to take with a grain of salt, nor give in like he so desperately wanted.
You took a long drag of the burning paper, reaching forward to snuff it out in the nearby ashtray on the floor before ultimately shaking your head side to side, tendrils of hair falling in front of your face, escaping the small bun you had created at the top of your head earlier. “I’ll take the risk and keep whoever’s filming with me.” 
Paul pursed his thin lips, poking his tongue out from in between to moisturize the dry flesh before nodding curtly, “Okay,” He sighed. “I guess we’re keeping Ellie.” 
At that, your eyebrows furrowed, the skin between them folding as you grew confused. The cogs in your head were overheating — and not just from the scorching heat. Paul knew your resentment toward the auburn-haired girl. Her freckled face sends the flesh of your lips to curl over your teeth in disgust for reasons unknown to everyone but you. It was a tension that always stuck like the strongest glue, hard to scrub off no matter how hard you tried.
 There was just something about her that made your heart fill with a type of emotion that you couldn’t decipher as something other than anger and spite. 
Ellie Williams.
The one person you seemingly weren’t able to get along with no matter how hard you tried. From the handful of small interactions you’ve had with the girl, she’s curt. A little bit of a bitch if anything but then again, so were you. Maybe that’s why the two of you were always going at it, words of hatred being spewed back and forth, metaphorically pushing one another’s chest, trying to see who could take things to a burning point, letting it boil over like a pot full of water on high heat. 
“I see that look on your face, mellow out.” 
You hadn’t noticed the way your nostrils were flared, the way your chest was rising up and down at a rapid pace, your breathing uneven and your hands balled into fists on either side of you. Closing your eyes, you opened your mouth to take a deep breath, letting the stale air fill your lungs before you exhaled, trying to center yourself. 
“I’m neat. Just lost my cool for a second there.” 
You glanced out the window next to him, your eyes darting to focus on any ounce of color you could spot behind the thin layer of dust that coated the outside glass. Taking in the stream of green grass that stretched as the van moved along the road, you sniffed. Paul followed your gaze, turning his torso to join your small viewing party of one. 
The rest of the ride was silent, the only sound reaching your ears, for the time being, was the quiet hum of the radio, the occasional squeak of the van when the driver would brake, and the silent mumbles that came from Paul’s mouth as he muttered quietly to himself. 
It wasn’t an ideal situation for you — having just Paul to guide you through an industry you knew only a handful about. Although the money was decent, you were thriving to achieve more with your life, looking at the porn industry as a last alternative to solve every problem that arose at every corner, chasing you down to tackle you, to beat you to a pulp. 
In a way, the green that would make its way into your greedy hands wasn’t going directly into your pockets. Instead, it was being handed to doctors at the local hospital for your mother’s care, as she had been diagnosed with some sort of terminal illness. Oh, how you loved her dearly, having been raised behind motel walls, the rent was barely paid, saltine crackers being shoved into your mouth ravenously, and inexpensive water being guzzled down your throat due to how thirsty you’d be.
 As you became older and your hair grew longer, the idea that your mother had tried everything she could with you carried on into everyday occurrences as you found yourself coming home with less than needed. It wasn’t until your friend, Jean, had come into your home, a joint and a bottle of Mateus Rose being shared between the two of you as you sat in the expanse of your small, crowded living room that you realized just how serious she was about what she was saying. 
“I know a couple of these fellas down in the city, they’re easy to convince if you bat your eyelashes a little.” She had said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world, and it was. Just for all the wrong reasons. After that, she moved somewhere deep in the valleys of Los Angeles and you haven’t heard from her since. You supposed she was doing well for herself though, having seen her in the papers a couple of weeks ago on your way to the designated filing studio for the day, stepping backward in your heeled boots, grabbing it from the stand much to the dismay of the man who was selling them. 
You were surprised, to say the least, eyes scanning across the big, bold black print. She had gotten herself in the papers for all the wrong reasons, destroying everything she had built for herself in the blink of an eye as soon as she had cheated on her millionaire husband with an even more rich, married man. You remembered the way your eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion and the ‘o’ your jaw had dropped into, the cigarette in your hand long forgotten and burning between your fingers. 
You couldn’t help but feel bad for her, your chest hurting at that path that she had chosen for herself although you weren’t one to judge considering what you were doing for money wasn’t proper either. She was on a better lane than you, trading her dingy apartment for a nice typical picket fence house in the hills, her handmade craft bracelets for pearls, and her bell bottoms for posh dresses. All that aside, she was a nice girl. 
The van came to a harsh stop, jolting forward just enough that it made you shift in your seat, and it was then that you paid special attention to the knot that had formed in your stomach. The uncomfortable feeling caused your face to scrunch up, the expression disappearing as soon as Paul looked in your direction with a smile on his stupid fucking face. 
“You ready, kid?” 
Shrugging, you licked your lips, cocking your head to the side before heaving a dramatic sigh, “I guess so.” 
Rolling his eyes, Paul nodded his head toward the doors of the van, silently telling you to join him in the outside world, figuring that fresh air would do you some good and ease the nerves along with the high you were experiencing. As the doors opened from the other side, the hairs on your arms raised from the slight breeze that the warm air brought, the sun glowing directly into your eyes, causing you to squint. 
Bringing your hands up to cover your face, you breathed out through your nose, blinking rapidly once — twice, the strain that had formed due to the light difference created a dull throb to go along with it. 
“Are you fucking serious, Jeff?” Once that voice reached your ears, you raised your head and immediately came face to face with the one person you were dreading to even glance at. She looked good, that was something you couldn’t deny. The glowing daylight behind her created a halo that made her short auburn hair shine just a little brighter, the freckles on her skin more visible in the Wyoming sun.
The expression that swirled in her green eyes wasn’t something you had the opportunity to decipher as she had turned away from you in an instant. 
Your eyes shamelessly roamed down what part of her chest was visible to you, noticing the white, collared button-down she wore; the first couple of buttons undone leaving her collarbone exposed, a thin layer of sweat forming between her sternum. Loose, boot-cut jeans hugged her hips. Her fingers looped through the belt holes causing the tucked shirt to ruffle slightly, a wrinkle embedding itself into the fabric.
Interacting with her was inevitable and you internally slapped yourself for letting something so stupid bounce across your brain. You were making an adult film with her after all. 
“Jeez, it’s just me, no need to get yourself wet.” She glanced back at you momentarily before averting her gaze once more, leaving you to narrow your eyes as you slid out of the van, stretching your legs. 
You bit back a groan at the sensation of releasing all the built-up tension and ache from sitting for so long, having come from Montana to Jackson, a grueling six-and-a-half-hour drive. The fresh air was nice, so you basked in every second of it before you would have to return to an inside setting again. 
The thought of it sent your mind reeling again, the small pang of nervousness creeping back up onto you in the form of an itch on your elbow that you scratched with your short fingernails, the skin there dry and in desperate need of hydration. 
“I’m not starting with you.” She stated, voice gruff and low as she tapped one of her polished, black pointed-toe boots on the dry dirt beneath her, the leather creasing as she did so with a cigarette in between her right fingers. You could tell she was growing annoyed, and a devious smirk tugged at the corners of your lips before you plucked it out of her fingers, putting it toward your lips to take a drag. 
From your peripheral vision, you could see her point the flesh of her lips in a frown, shaking her head slightly. It took you a fraction of a second to decide that starting a conversation with her wasn’t what you wanted to do, especially watching the way Jeff, her manager, interacted with yours, his jaw tense and teeth grinding together behind his thin lips. The sky was getting darker, the bright blue that was there mere moments ago being stained with a salmon pink, a tinge of sherbet orange below the horizon. The grass around the property was short, thriving with life, and as green as ever with different arrays of flowers, colorful and swaying in the wind.
It felt peaceful, and serene almost until the thought of what you were here for jumped out at you. 
Tapping the butt of the cigarette, you ashed it, watching as it fell an inch away from your boot, pulling it to the entrance of your lips before taking another drag, and exhaling loudly. 
Swaying slightly from side to side, Ellie watched as Paul and Jeff continued to argue, turning to you, waiting until you cocked your head in her direction at her outstretched palm. 
“What?”
She pointed a ringed finger at half of the stick still in your grasp. “Since we’re sharing now apparently, at least let me take a couple of drags too.” 
Huffing, you extended it out to her, snatching your hand back across your chest once she took it from you. “You don’t have a pack of your own?”
“Obviously not or the thought of taking yours would’ve never crossed my mind.”  Running a hand through your hair, you felt the warmness of your tongue against your bottom lip as you licked the layer of dry skin there. The silence that followed after was thick, suffocating almost until you decided with the last shred of dignity you had. “So, what’d you think of the script?”
Turning your body in her direction, you quickly scanned her up and down, taking in the way she shrugged in response before inhaling again. “It was alright, nothing worth getting excited over. Can’t expect much when it’s written by who it’s written by.”
Raising your eyebrows, you silently agreed by nodding your head, knowing exactly what she meant without her having to say too much. Troy, the man who wrote the majority of your scripts, was a creep. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that most of the men in this line of work were as weird as could be, especially when working with women such as yourself who found comfort in the arms of another woman and not a man. 
“Yeah, It didn’t make much sense but no one’s watching for the plot, I guess.” 
Ellie snorted, flicking the cigarette on the ground, snuffing it out with the sole of her shoe, and rubbing at the back of her neck with a hand after. “Yeah.” She nodded, looking off into the distance for a couple of seconds before scanning your face, her gaze lingering on your lips a little too long before they moved again. 
Standing without a word being spoken was the most comfortable silence you had ever felt in a while, so you took the peace to your advantage, your rapid heart slowing down its pace the longer you stood next to her, the wind carrying the scent of pine and cigarettes from her clothing into your nostrils, exciting your nose hairs.
The sound of soles crunching beneath stray rocks and rubble caused you to look up at Jeff and Paul through your lashes, observing how they looked at each other and then back at you. 
Clapping his hands together, Jeff pointed his thumbs over his shoulders, gesturing to the lone house on the land, his brown eyes bouncing between the two of you. 
“Okay, let’s start filmin’.” Turning on his heel, he extended the distance between you three, leaving you to catch follow quickly, the lids of your eyes shutting slowly before fluttering open again. Walking through the wide door, you found three other people gathered around a patterned sofa, their talking coming to a pause as soon as you had walked through the frame of the front door, Ellie right behind. Arnold, the cameraman seemed to be everywhere, and he was a bit of a creep if you were being honest but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ve had your fair share of men being openly odd, sparking weariness within you, and raising bright red flags. Jared was the sound guy, a ribbon microphone practically always glued to the tips of his fingers every time you saw him — and that was often. 
Arnold was the first one to speak, his dark eyes swirling with happiness, a haze of drunkness in them as well. Figures. “Never thought I’d see the day where the two of you were close willingly.” 
Wiggling a finger at you and Ellie, he balanced his camera in another hand, the sound of the door shutting grasping his attention momentarily, zeroing in on Ellie when he had focused again. 
When he had opened his shit-hole of a mouth again, you had tuned him out, eyes locking onto the hardwood beneath your shoes as he explained the little plot of the short movie. Ellie was to play the ‘man of the house’ as Troy had called it, and you were the stunning wife of course, having to cook a pretend dinner and prep the dining table for a romantic night for two before the stares and touches grew heavy with need. The sex scene would take place on the island countertop in the kitchen after you had finished washing dishes. 
Filming was difficult, with time being lost from the handful of times that you and Ellie had bickered about hand placements and the way you were supposed to feverishly lock lips, which had everyone in the room in a sour mood, the negativity spreading within you as Ellie had kissed you harshly during one scene, knocking her front teeth into yours. You had yanked your head back, running your tongue across your left tooth as it throbbed slightly, not intending to shove her as far as you did, and of course, that action elicited a bunch of curses from her and a small ‘fuck, I’m sorry it was an accident.’
In hindsight, your response should’ve been a little more respectful considering that she had apologized but as she put her lips to the skin of your neck, right below your ear, it swirled out of your mind, the words that rose out of your throat being a jumbled mess of moans as she sucked at a certain spot. 
The dull throb between your thighs made you wrap your legs around her waist, creating more friction as the material of her jeans rubbed deliciously against your clothed clit. If there was one thing about Ellie that you were certain of, it was that she knew how to touch a woman, to get them flustered, to have them writhing under her touch, to make them want more.
“So beautiful. Why are you sittin’ all shy, baby?” It was as if everyone else in the room had disappeared, disintegrating into thin air, the camera a couple of feet away from you forgotten as you stared at her, chest rising and falling quickly as your heart started to beat rapidly against your ribcage. Whether that was part of the script or not was something that crossed your mind for a couple of seconds as you stared at her lips, shaking your head a moment after.
“M’ not shy.” 
Grabbing the apples of her cheeks with the palm of your hands, you cupped her face, bringing her lips closer to yours once more, your hot breath mixing with hers as you desperately clutched the back of her shirt into your fingers, knuckles growing white as your nails clawed crescent shapes into her back.
Ellie hummed against you, pulling her head back, a string of saliva stretching between the both of you before she wiped at it with the back of her hand, the way she held eye contact the whole time causing you to rub your thighs together. “Mhm, not shy but very eager.”
It was a low whisper that brought the hairs on your arms to raise slowly, the warm feeling of her fingers tapping the fat of your thighs evoking a small, unintentional whine from you. 
You didn’t care if this wasn’t a part of the script, and neither did everyone else in the room as they all waited with bated breath, their bodies rigid and tension-filled, waiting for your response. 
“Only this eager for you.”
It was true. Your experience with her was by far the best of your career and she didn’t even take unbutton your pants yet, leaving the slick that had pooled in the center of your pants, staining the crotch area, your cheeks developing a rosy tint at how embarrassingly horny you were. 
The freckled girl noticed this, a smirk pulling at her mouth as she leaned closer to you, green eyes fogged with the desperate need to please you, to have you screaming her name until you weren’t able to do so. The hotness of her breath, as it passed through her teeth, made you shudder, your manicured fingers going to rest at the waistband of her jeans, right above the small of her back. 
“You have no idea what you just started, sweetheart.” 
With that, she hastily reached for the button of your jeans, popping them open, her fingers guiding themselves onto your bare cunt, air passing through your teeth as you hissed, the coolness of her ringed fingers coming in contact with your warm flesh. 
The dry chuckle that passed her lips was laced with humor, your lack of underwear surprising her although it wasn’t written on her flushed face. “And you aren’t wearing anything else. You’re trying to reel me in, huh?” 
“Ah, shit.”
“So wet and I only just started touching you.” She drawled, her left arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you to the edge of the green laminate countertop, placing the pad of her thumb on your bud, moving it in slow circles. You clenched onto nothing, bucking your hips into her hand, urging her to press down harder. 
She complied, working her finger against you so roughly, that the slight pinch of pain one of her many rings caused as it skimmed across one of your folds spiraled into pleasure. She rested her forehead against yours, the tips of your noses touching as she continued to please your aching cunt. Biting down on your lip, a muffled moan escaped causing your jaw to grow tense at the knot that had formed in the expanse of your stomach. 
“Does it feel good, baby?” 
Nodding your head, you lifted your hips, helping her tug your jeans off fully, exposing the smooth, moisturized skin of your legs, the scratchy denim pooling at your ankles. 
Ellie removed her hand, the sudden rush of air on your exposed flesh causing an involuntary arch in your lower back. The heat of her green eyes burning at your lower half had sent adrenaline coursing through every vein in your body, even more so when you had whined. 
“Such a pretty pussy.” 
Her praises had set your skin on fire, the aching throb becoming unbearable, your arousal leaking from you once more as she shoved a finger inside of you with the help of your wetness, one of the tight rings stretching you out just an inch more. One of your sweaty palms slapped against the counter, the back of your head coming in contact with a wooden cabinet, a small ‘thud’ accompanying the action. 
Without warning, she started pumping the lone finger in and out, flexing in between your walls, enjoying the expression on your face — the way it contorted with pleasure when she’d hit a certain spot inside of you that had you silently mumbling with closed eyes, curses spilling from your lips in a low chant.
Your hard nipples were visible through the thin shirt that covered your chest, and she couldn’t stop her other hand as it weaved its way under the end of your shirt, flicking one of them harshly, a sting of pain in its wake. “Fuck.” You sighed, breath stuttering as you felt another finger slide past your hole. 
With flared nostrils, you cocked your head to the side as her lips started to suck at your neck, teeth grazing across your throat, a thin layer of saliva snailing up your neck as the skin grew red and raw, the blood cells beneath rising to the surface at the suction. 
Your entire body was hot, flushed with sweat as she pleased you as if you were the last person she’d ever have the privilege of laying her godly hands upon. You were growing addicted to her touch — as wrong as it was because your dislike for her was starting to lessen just a bit. Her fingers felt amazing, the way they curled into you, not too much but not too little that it didn’t satisfy you when it was the exact opposite. 
In truth, you almost didn’t recognize the sensation that came to you as it had grown foreign to you, along with the butterflies that would flutter within your stomach as other’s touches had rendered you numb. Not Ellie’s though. Never hers. 
With that one lingering thought, a sob rippled through your throat as you clenched tightly around her fingers, the muscles in your stomach flexing as you came, legs shaking around her frame. 
There wasn’t any time to waste, camera film was expensive after all. 
You were numb, breathing heavy and hair disheveled, eyes wide and lips parted as Ellie sunk to her knees, curling her hands under your thighs only to rest them on your lower stomach, a trail of hot, sloppy kisses being left behind starting from your knee. 
When her warm tongue cupped over you, you were a goner, toes curling within the space of your boots, the sound of her lapping at your juices sinful as she sucked greedily. 
Internally slapping yourself, you concluded that all the past bickering and sexual tension throughout the many seasons all led up to this — the best head you had ever received in your life and she had just swiped her tongue once. 
“Please, please.” You begged pathetically, hands weaving through her short auburn hair, tugging to one side harshly, causing her to moan against you. 
“Please what?” She cooed, urging you to use your words even though you were a sobbing mess. 
“Please let me feel you, I want your tongue.” 
The smile she gave you was lazy, and devious as the flesh of her lips pulled back into a smile. 
“All you had to do was ask, darlin'.'”
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ghosts-cyphera · 8 months
Text
Drawing Trust
╰﹒to comfort a young girl who has just lost her entire family, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley borrows out the two things that bring him reassurance. his mask, and you.
warnings/content: themes of death/blood/violence, but overall just a fluffy little thing. gn!reader; simon taking off his mask for the first time in front of you; word count 2.3k
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The maroon carpet was rough against the palms of your hands, as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the dimly-lit office. The night had fallen hours prior, and you stifled a yawn, as the quiet minutes stretched out: the only sound to be heard was the scribbling of the slightly dry ballpoint pens and the deep breathing of the concentrated child sitting beside you. 
With her tongue nipped between her teeth and her eyes slightly squinted, she drew on the finishing touches and turned to you.
"Done."
"Look at you go." You smiled, as you leaned over to take a look at the blue, black, and red lines. The blue lines formed a box to which four black sticks, each with four smaller sticks at their tips, were connected. Two small circles, which you assumed were eyes, and a red curve right underneath them formed a down-turned pout on the features of the box-bodied stick figure.
"Leila," you gasped, as you turned to the little girl. "I was about to claim this to be yet another masterpiece, but I've just now seen that the mouth—"
She leaned in to take a look.
"It's upside down." You furrowed your brows. "This can't be right, can it?"
The little girl grinned. "It's right because he's sad."
"Sad?" You raised a brow. "But how could anyone be sad when they have such a neat t-shirt on? The blue really highlights the color of his eyes, you know. An awesome choice on your end."
"I only had three colors."
"Still," you chuckled, as you pulled out another sheet of white printer paper and handed it to her. "Only a true artist knows where to use each color. What do you say we play 'draw-and-guess'?"
"He's sad because his family is dead."
Alright. No draw-and-guess.
Leila's fingers closed once more around the ballpoint pens to continue the drawing. Now, connected to the smaller sticks—the fingers of the box-bodied stick figure—something resembling a black banana was being drawn. 
Yet, you knew.
"He's sad because he killed his family." Her tiny little fingers wrapped around the red ballpoint pen, as she started to add splatters of blood, much in the shape of flowers, all around the paper. "They weren't really his family, not really. But they were as good as his real family, Mama said. He had been with them ever since he was a boy, but Mama said he became really bad and that's why he was with the cartel who wanted him dead, and his family dead. So then he killed them."
Indeed. It had not been a black banana that the target had been holding when your squad had found him a couple of hours prior with a self-inflicted bullet wound to the temple. The whole mission had been one big shitshow: suspects and leads turning up dead around one corner and another, until… 
Until.
"But he didn't kill me, which is nice because I like hanging out with you." Leila's voice was matter-of-factly as she flashed you a warm smile. So matter-of-factly, indeed, that if she had not just heard his entire foster family dying, you might have laughed at the cheery tone of her voice.
"Oh, yeah?" You managed, as you gently nudged her with your shoulder. "Well, that makes two of us then, doesn't it? I haven't had this much fun since I sneaked into the office of my boss to steal his stash of candy."
Her eyes suddenly beginning to twinkle, Leila raised her gaze to meet yours: her drawing now lying long forgotten on the carpeted floor. "Candy?"
This you did know how to handle.
"Mountains, and mountains, and damn mountains of it," you confirmed with a grin. "I'm afraid I took a little more than I should have, but I'm sure there's still some left. Wanna go sneak around and see if we can find some of your favorites?"
"Maybe they have Three Musketeers," she nodded her head, as she hopped up from the floor. "Or Reese's. When it was Halloween, I ate so many Reese's that my poo—" Her words suddenly died down on her lips, as she took a rushed step closer to you. 
You frowned. "Leila, are you—" 
And that's when you saw the movement at the door of the office. 
The figure standing by the door frame was so tall and wide that it blocked out most of the light streaming in from the hallway, and as it moved to take a step towards the two of you, Leila rushed to hide behind your back, small fingers closing around your arm. 
"Oh, sweetheart," you rushed to speak with a breathless chuckle, your brows furrowed. "It's alright, it's just my friend."
As if finally registering the sudden shift in the mood, Ghost's steps came to a halt, and his eyes darted to search yours.
"Ghost," you smiled, making sure that your voice remained warm and steady. "This is Leila. Leila, darling, this is my friend, Ghost."
Despite feeling the way that she shifted her weight from one foot to another, she did not answer, as she continued clinging to your arm.
"I know he's a little big and mangy—," Ghost raised his brow at you, and you bit down your laugh, "but he was there when I found you. He had my back when I carried you back to the cars so that we could both get out safely." Your voice was a warm hum. "Would it be alright if he came here to say hi to you?"
Quiet.
"If you don't want to talk, that's alright. How about you go and squeeze my arm if it's alright with you that he comes over?"
Five small fingers squeezed around your arm, and you nodded your head with a gentle smile. "Atta girl."
On Ghost's features, you could see his gentle hesitance, as his heavy feet led him to take a few careful steps towards the two of you. With you sitting on the ground, he looked even taller and broader than he usually did, and just as you were about to ask him to crouch on the floor with you, he took the hint.
With his padded knees touching the carpeted floor, he spoke with a warm voice despite its low rumble. "Hello, there. It's Leila, yeah? My name's Ghost. I'm—err—I'm a friend of Sarge here."
"The bestest friend," you hummed with a soft chuckle, and from your words, the corners of Ghost's eyes crinkled.
"The mask’s what’s scarin' you, yeah?" He gestured towards the piece fashioned after a skull, and you could feel Leila taking a step behind your back. To peek over your shoulder or to hide further away, you were not sure of.
"It's—err—it's something that—," Ghost attempted. "It's something that makes me feel safe. Less scared, yeah? It's like—when I've got it on, I'm in my own world, yeah? In my own bubble."
You smiled, as you turned your head ever so slightly towards Leila. "Have you got something like that, love? Something that makes you feel less scared?"
And just as you thought that she was not ready to speak yet, the hesitant voice replied back. "I have a turtle. Eugene."
Ghost's laugh was low—all while gentle and warm—as he nodded his head. "That's a bloody brilliant name for a turtle, that is. You've got Eugene with you?"
"No," the small voice called back.
Oh no.
The same realization that crashed upon you visibly dawned upon Ghost, too, for you could notice the way that he blinked his eyes shut for a split second in his regret.
"I forgot to take him with me." Leila's voice cracked, and with it, your heart clenched in your chest. "I miss him."
"What do you say I—," Ghost glanced at you, lowering his voice ever so slightly. "I can go back 'n get it for her, yeah?"
"They had to pull all the troops back," you shook your head. "Something about explosives in the basement. They're waiting for SWAT to arrive to clear the house."
Fuck, his eyes told you. 
I know, the raise of your brow answered, just as the quiet sniffle sounded from behind your back. What the fuck do we do now?
Ghost blinked his eyes shut for a moment, and then with a deep breath, he spoke. "Leila, love?" He sat down on the carpet, his fingers gently moving aside the drawings. "Remember what I told you about the mask, yeah? About how it keeps me safe and protects me?"
A quiet sniffle came from behind your shoulder, followed by a quiet "yeah."
"Well, having assessed the situation at hand, in my—err—professional opinion, it seems like it's you who's needing the mask right now more than I am, yeah?"
You blinked at his words, your lips parting ever so slightly as his gloved fingers moved to the hem of his mask. You could see the soft hesitation in his movements: the gentle shake of his hands, barely noticeable yet there if you knew to look for it.
And with a deep breath, he pulled it off.
Pausing for the briefest of moments, he looked at the mask in his fingers before raising his gaze. At first, it was headed slightly past you towards the girl behind your back, and then, it drifted to you.
He was your Ghost.
The corners of your lips tugged into a smile, and you swallowed as you nodded your head once and thrice. 
He was your Ghost, and he was beautiful.
Fucking hell.
From the sudden blurriness of your gaze, you glanced up in a desperate attempt to blink away your tears, only to give up with a soft chuckle as you felt two of them rolling down your cheeks, slow and gentle.
Happy: the same happiness reflecting back on the features of Ghost, as the tip of his boot brushed against yours. 
I'm here, his eyes told you. It's alright.
The sudden gentle movement behind your back drew you back into the moment, and just as you forced your lips to part, Ghost, instead, took the lead.
"Wanna come ‘n take a look at it?"
While her movements were still overshadowed by her hesitance, there was now a hint of curiosity too in the way that Leila slipped out from behind your back, and walked to Ghost.
Sitting cross-legged next to him, she carefully reached for the mask, her index finger running across the cheek of the skull.
"It's not soft like Eugene is," she hummed before her carefully twinkling eyes found those of Ghost.
"No," he laughed with a nod of his head. As he did, his nose scrunched up ever so slightly, and you bit your lip to hide your smile. "No, but what I like about it is… When you have it on, no one can see your face, right? It's—"
"Oh, it's like—," Leila smiled, as her fingers traced the edges of the skull. "It's like the shell of Eugene. When he's scared, or—or when he needs to be alone, he can go into his shell and feel safe because it's just him there."
"Yeah. Something like that, yeah," Ghost nodded with a smile. "Wanna—err—wanna try it on?"
Her eyes sparkling now, Leila nodded her head fast and hard enough to surely get the girl dizzy were she to keep it up. "Yes, please."
"C'mere then, yeah?" His fingers fumbled with the fabric, as he got it straightened out. "Look up." She did as she was told, and Ghost slid it over her head—only for the three of you to laugh, as it slipped over her eyes. "Hold up. There ya go, yeah? Can you see through the holes?"
"Yeah," Leila called out, her voice slightly muffled. Despite not being able to see her little features any longer—her button nose and freckled cheeks hidden by the mask far too big and wide for her delicate features—you could hear the burning excitement in her voice, as the mask shook with her nods. "This is awesome. Do I look scary now?"
"Fuckin' terrifying," Ghost grinned.
"How does it feel?" You hummed, leaning back. 
"Safe," Leila confirmed with a chuckle.
"Yeah? Like the shell of Eugene, eh?"
"Yeah, like I was hiding in a shell." She laughed. "A big shell. A stinky shell."
Ghost's eyes blinking shut, he nodded his head as a deeply amused laugh danced from your lips. 
"Yeah. Yeah," he grinned, the apples of his cheeks slightly flushed as his hand moved to rub his face with his laughter. "This turtle might've been a little lazy with his fuckin’ baths lately, eh? What do you say you give it back here before you embarrass me further in front of my best friend, yeah?"
Leila laughed as her little hands moved to slide the mask off her features, and she drew in an exaggerated breath. "Ah, lovely fresh air."
"Little shit," Ghost grinned, and you playfully kicked him with your boot. 
"Keep it up and we're not taking you with us on our candy heist, are we, Leila?" 
"Nah, he can come," Leila smiled, as she offered her hand to urge you up from the ground. "He's fun, even if he's stinking. Besides," she then chuckled as she pulled you up, before offering her hand for Ghost. “We need him to carry it all back. Because he's stronger than we are."
"Happy to be fuckin' useful," he chuckled.
"And if we get caught," you arched an amused brow at the girl, softly elbowing Ghost as you did, "we can blame it all on him."
"See, this is why I like you," Leila announced, as she started leading the way out of the office. Yet not before her voice, gently amused yet oh-so-knowing, had added: "And probably why Ghost's in love with you, too."
The corners of your lips tugged into a smirk, and you raised a brow at him. "That so, Lt.?"
"It was you who demoted me, darlin’," he chuckled under his breath, as his fingers brushed against yours, gentle and knowing. "Best friend, eh?”
Or maybe—just maybe—something just a little bit more than that.
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a/n: if you liked this wee little thing, please do let me know via comments, tags, or asks—whatever works for you. reading your feedback means the absolute world to me. ♡
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fics-n-stuff · 2 years
Text
The Interview (and the year and a half to follow)
Pairing: Eddie Munson × Steve Harrington
Summary: When rockstar Eddie Munson reveals that he's married, and to a teacher no less, his fans don't know what to do with themselves. Steve and Eddie, especially Eddie, love the chaos. And he can't help but keep declaring his love for his mystery husband.
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: This is a modern AU in which Steddie are in their early thirties and everyone else is aged up accordingly, and it's truly incredibly sappy. I wrote this all in one go at 2-4am before a shift at 9am, so it could be a masterpiece or it could be crap. You decide!
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"My husband is a middle school teacher." Eddie had said, just trying to give the interviewer a little bit of background on his life. He hadn't expected it to set the internet on fire. 
HE'S MARRIED?? TO A TEACHER?????
I CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE WHAT HIS HUSBAND COULD BE LIKE!!!
IS IT AN OPPOSITES ATTRACT KIND OF RELATIONSHIP OR IS EDDIE'S HUSBAND JUST THE MOST HARDCORE TEACHER EVER??
ONLY A LEGEND LIKE EDDIE MUNSON COULD DROP SUCH A BOMBSHELL SO CASUALLY!!
"Eds, what the hell did you do?"
"All I did was say that my husband is a middle school teacher and now everyone's obsessed with you. I think they like the idea that I have a soft side."
"You're nothing but soft sides." Steve chuckled, engulfing Eddie in his arms as they cuddled on the couch. "Maybe I should be the famous one."
"In your dreams, Harrington." Eddie scoffed, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
"If they like the idea that you're secretly a softie, maybe you should tell them that we're an emergency foster home. Or that we have seven pseudo-children."
"One thing at a time, babe. I don't want to set the world on fire."
Eddie didn't do another interview for a while. He was busy producing his band's next album, their fifth one, and spending time with friends and family between tours. But when Corroded Coffin was invited to be the musical guest on a late night show two months later, partly to promote a movie that Eddie was in (it would be his acting debut and he would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified that people would think he was absolutely horrendous), he had almost forgotten about the frenzy he had whipped his fanbase into at the reveal of the existence of his husband.
"So, a couple of months ago you let slip that your husband is a teacher." The host said to him when he sat down after performing his song, and the audience cheered. These were the questions they wanted answered.
"Yeah, a lot of people were surprised to hear that I'm married but I've been wearing a wedding ring for six years." Eddie smiled, holding his left hand up to the camera to display the simple silver wedding band on his ring finger. "I guess nobody really noticed because I wear a lot of rings."
"That's insane, you've been married for six years?" The host exclaimed, and Eddie nodded with a chuckle. "I have to ask, how did you two meet? I mean, a heavy metal rockstar and a middle school teacher are not a conventional pair."
"We met in high school." Eddie answered, and the audience awed. "Well, technically, he had just graduated high school and I was on my second repeat of senior year. We met through some mutual friends."
"That's so sweet. Isn't that so sweet?" The audience cheered at the host's prompt and Eddie giggled, his hair falling into his face. "Was it a love at first sight thing? How did you end up together?"
"Um, kind of. It was strange, he was a popular jock in high school and I was about as weird and unpopular as they got, but once we got to know each other outside of school we clicked fast. And he's hot, like really hot, so I fell immediately." The crowd laughed.
"Wow, that's fantastic. But, anyway, I need to move on before I get carried away. Let's talk about this movie you're in."
"Yes, let's."
Steve was watching the show at home, sat on the couch with Robin on one side and Dustin on the other who were poking and teasing him as they watched the tooth-rottingly sweet interview. Robin was the one who hopped onto Twitter to see what people were saying, and, once again, social media was ablaze. #eddiemunsonhusband was trending the whole next day, and Steve and Eddie found it hugely amusing. 
Eddie slowly started opening up about his personal life after the overwhelmingly positive response to all his husband talk. At the premier of his movie, he walked Robin down the red carpet with him, telling the interviewers that the two of them and his husband were all roommates for a few years in his early twenties. In a radio interview he did in the lead up to his album release, he talked about how he ran the Hellfire Club in high school and how he was still friends with and still semi-regularly DMed for the kids that were in the club, and he told them about how one of the Hellfire kids was the one to initially introduce him to his husband. When the album released and the band did an interview with Rolling Stone, he told them about how supportive everyone in his life was of his music. He told them about the night's he would stay up writing Corroded Coffin's first album, his husband - then boyfriend - doting on him the entire time. And all of this served to fan the flames of his follower base because, even in opening up about his life and his friends and family, he never revealed who his husband was.
Steve didn't go to many of Eddie's public appearances. He never had; it wasn't his scene. And when he did, they kept their distance and kept things discreet until they were inside and there were no more cameras. When Eddie went out and released another morsel of information about his life, Steve sat at home grading papers or planning lessons and smiling to himself about his chaotic rockstar husband. 
And then it was time for Eddie to go on tour again. Steve hated saying goodbye when Eddie went on tour. 
The tour started in California and slowly snaked it's way across all fifty states, stealing Eddie away from their home in Indianapolis for six months. The faculty at Steve's school kept asking what was wrong in the first few weeks after Eddie left. He told them that his husband was travelling for work.
Eddie missed Steve too. Unapologetically so. For the first time on tour, he felt comfortable mentioning his husband. Every other night he brought up how much he missed him, usually as an introduction to one of their songs; one of the softer ones, off of their third album, that he wrote about Steve right after they got married. The audience ate it up every time. His bandmates always rolled their eyes and teased him after the show.
Eddie's tour landed back in Indiana right after Spring Break. Steve was thrilled to have him back, even if it was brief before he moved on to the next state. And Eddie was thrilled to know that, as he played his first night in Indianapolis, Steve was out in the crowd watching. Will, El and Mike had been out in the crowd when he played in California, Max and Lucas had come to see him in their recent new home of Chicago, and Erica, Nancy and Johnathan would be there when he played in New York City. But tonight he knew that Steve was out there in the crowd, with Dustin and Robin, screaming and cheering for him like he had from the start.
"Alright, this is the part of the show where I normally get all sappy about how much I miss my husband." Eddie said into the microphone, his skin gleaming with sweat. His fans cheered. "But not tonight. Because tonight, I'm pleased to say, my husband is here in the crowd." His fans screamed even louder. "And no matter how much you try you're not gonna spot him. You wanna know why? Because he's wearing my clothes so that he blends in with the crowd." Eddie grinned. The audience went wild. "This next one's just for you, sweetheart." 
Out in the audience, dressed in a pair of Eddie's black jeans, a pair of Eddie's bulky boots and a t-shirt from Corroded Coffin's last tour, Steve felt his heart swell.
A year after the revelation of Eddie Munson's husband came the revelation of Eddie Munson's kid. Like the chaos gremlin he is, Eddie took to Twitter on a Thursday afternoon and casually announced that he and his husband were fostering a kid with the intention to adopt.
Like clockwork, the internet set ablaze.
The eleven year old girl had been in Steve and Eddie's care three times over the past two years before the adoption, spending about eight months in their care over the three stays. Then, when Eddie had been in the last month of his tour, Steve got the call that a kid needed a place to stay. Steve had got the second bedroom ready with clean bedding, made sure the cupboards were stocked with snacks. And when the social workers arrived, the girl had launched herself into Steve's arms, babbling about how happy she was that she had ended up with Steve and Eddie again.
It was unusual for Steve and Eddie to see so much of the same kid. They were an emergency foster home, they usually only saw kids for a few nights or a couple of weeks. And it was the same with her the first time she stayed with them. She stayed for twelve days before she moved to a different home. But then she was back. Only three weeks later she was back in their care and, for whatever reason, that's where she stayed for the next five months. It had been a year since Corroded Coffin released their fourth album, and they had decided they were taking their time with the next one, so Eddie was home and not very busy and perfectly happy hanging out with the kid that they hadn't expected to have for so long.
She went back to her parents at the end of the five months, much to Steve and Eddie's disapproval. But they hoped that they had cleaned up their act and she would be going back to a more child friendly environment. Unfortunately, she was back a year later. The social workers had brought her back to Steve and Eddie and asked if they could keep her for a few months again. Of course, they enthusiastically agreed, and the three of them settled in together for the next three months until she was taken back to her family again.
The third time was the final strike. There was no way she was going to be placed back into her parents' care. Steve had volunteered them to foster her for as long as they could. She had always been a wonderful addition to the home ever since her first stay.
When Eddie got home he was thrilled to see her. He'd been filled in on the situation over call, of course, but you couldn't hug someone over the phone. It was only a couple of weeks after Eddie got home that he and Steve started talking about the possibility of adoption.
Steve and Eddie had always wanted kids. At first, they had planned on adopting a baby, but after involving themselves in the foster system and seeing the demand that there was for people to take in older kids they decided that that was their calling. The girl coming into their lives in the way that she did felt almost like fate. And so they sat her down and asked her how she would feel about the whole thing. Much to their delight, she had enthusiastically agreed to the idea, and they started the process immediately. Eddie felt like this was a major development in his life and he wanted to share it - at least a vague bit of it - and so a month later he took to Twitter.
Things went pretty quiet after that. Eddie's label was organising for a European tour, but he made sure it wasn't too soon so that he would be around for the adoption process. And that was where he put all of his energy: into his kid.
The girl attended the school that Steve taught at, and Eddie signed her up for a dance class when she mentioned an interest. Steve helped her with her homework and bought her books and had long conversations with her in which he taught her things without her even realising that she was learning. Eddie nurtured her creative side, buying her art supplies and teaching her guitar and singing Disney karaoke with her on the weekends.
Corroded Coffin was nominated for a Grammy. It wasn't their first nomination but Eddie was excited about it anyway. They hadn't won a Grammy yet, there only really being one category for metal music and plenty of artists deserving of the award.
Steve and Eddie had their first Christmas with a kid. Wayne came over like he did every year, making it a real family affair. They went overboard with the decorations and wracked their brains for the best gifts to buy. They made a gingerbread house and watched an obscene amount of Christmas movies, and it was the best Christmas they'd ever had.
The adoption was finalised at the end of January. The whole thing had been smooth sailing, Steve and Eddie having proved more than capable of taking care of a child over the years. And now they had a kid and they were officially a family and things couldn't have been better.
And then Corroded Coffin won the Grammy for Best Metal Performance. Steve and their daughter had leapt off of the couch with cheers and whoops and fists waving in the air. And after his bandmates had taken turns at the microphone thanking their management and their fans and their families, Eddie had taken his turn for a speech.
"I have so many people that I want to thank, and they know who they are. My uncle Wayne, the Hellfire kids and all my other friends from back home, all of our fans and every friend we've made in the industry. But, obviously, I want to thank my amazing husband for tolerating my chaos and the fact that I write best in the middle of the night. And I also promise to try and change that habit now that we have a kid in the house, and you're allowed to hold me to that." He gave his speech with a massive grin, trophy gripped tightly in his hands, and when he stepped off stage he split off from his band and excused himself to call Steve, who had secretly bought a bottle of champagne and Eddie's favourite cake from his favourite place to celebrate the victory (because he'd had a gut feeling that Corroded Coffin was going to finally win this one).
Then, as if it had crept up on them, it was time for the European tour, which would steal Eddie away from his husband and daughter for even longer than the US tour. 
Right before he boarded the plane, Eddie opened up Instagram, ready to cause one last stir.
The picture was one of Eddie's new favourites. Robin had taken it in their garden when she came over to hang out one random afternoon. Eddie was dressed peak rockstar, distressed black jeans and a studded leather jacket, chains dangling off him and hands covered in rings. And Steve was peak teacher, all blue jeans and a soft grey sweater, and glasses balanced on his nose. He was giving their daughter a piggyback, but the picture was from just an angle that you couldn't see her face, because she deserved her privacy even if her new dad was a rockstar. 
Now that it's all official and I find myself with this perfect little family, I think it's time to finally show you all the amazing man that I share my life with. Everyone, meet Steve.
And, for the final time, the internet went crazy. It was unanimous; they loved Steve. And Eddie couldn't blame them, because he loved Steve too.
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goosewriting · 1 year
Note
Hello! I loved your "baby 🥺" fic and was wondering if we could get a version of it but with Donnie?
Another bebe?🥺 (rottmnt Donnie x reader)
summary: a turtle baby suddenly appears in the lab, and she looks suspiciously a lot like Donnie
relationship: Rise!Donnie x GN reader
warnings: none, just fluff!, soft Donnie
word count: 2k
A/N: the moment everyone's been waiting for lol this time Donnie gets better lab equipment xD
More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie (you’re here) | Mikey
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
Donnie was in his lab, because where else would he be? He was jamming to some EDM music in the background while tinkering with some project of his. You sat in front of him, starting to get bored. He had invited you over to show you his latest masterpiece, but it hadn’t worked yet, so now he was trying to fix the issue. Which according to him would be a quick fix, but he had been at it for over half an hour now, cursing under his breath.
“You better leave all the tools how you found them,” he said without looking up, as he could hear the light clattering.
“I know your system,” you reassured him. “You've explained it in great detail several times, don’t you worry.”
“Then, can you pass me the screwdriver, please?” he asked, stretching out his hand in your direction.
You reached out to pick it up from the box but it fell from your hand, rolling over the edge of his work table. You flinched slightly, ready for the clatter it would make as it fell onto the floor, since that screwdriver was modified by Donnie and particularly heavy. But the sound never came. Instead you heard more of an electrical zap and a whoosh.
Taking a couple of steps to get around the table, you saw that there was a hole on the floor where the screwdriver would have been. It was circular, formed by several zapping rays of a yellow-ish glow. You couldn't see through it, but it was clear that the tool fell in there. You merely blinked at the sight in front of you, unable to say anything.
Not getting a response from you, Donnie also moved from his spot, leaving his work on the table, and walked over, now standing in front of you on the other side of… whatever that was. 
“Huh,” is all that he said.
“What is that?” you asked after a moment. “And why are you not alarmed?”
Donnie scoffed. 
“It’s obvious it's some kind of portal,” he explained, turning around to his wall of machinery, tapping something on this brace device.
You raised your hands and eyebrows in a ‘well, sorry I didn’t immediately recognise it as such’ gesture, even though he had his back to you.
“I need to analyse it,” Donnie informed you as he turned around. “Better get a little further back just in case–”
Suddenly the screwdriver appeared again, coming out straight out of the portal, a tiny turtle hand attached to it.
You both stood in silence and shock, watching how a little turtle tot climbed out the portal carrying the heavy tool, finally getting to sit on the floor with a huff. The baby had a little ribbon tied to her head, which hung a little askew because of her efforts. She looked at you with a smile, then at Donnie, and squealed in glee, holding out the screwdriver with both hands towards him, as if offering it to him.
Then the portal zapped loudly, and shut closed. The little turtle seemed unfazed by this, still waiting for Donnie to react.
Donnie opened and closed his mouth several times but no words came out. You approached the baby and  crouched down next to her.
“H-hey there, little one,” you greeted her, and she cooed. “Where did you come from, hm?”
You took the screwdriver from the little hands, placing it on the table, and picked up the baby in your arms. 
“Huh, look at you, aren't you cute?”, you said as you inspected her chubby cheeks and big eyes. “What’s your name?”
The baby cooed and babbled as you moved the ribbon up her head to where you thought it was meant to sit. You fixed your grasp on the turtle to carry her better against your hip, in the process stroking over her back with your hand, and your brows raised at the sensation.
“Donnie look,” you pointed out to him. “She has a soft shell, just like you!”
You turned back to him and he was still in shock, unmoving. But you had been with him long enough to pick up on the tiny changes in his face to read them. Given the twitch of the corner of his mouth, you knew his mind was not only racing, but he already had a plausible hypothesis for this situation.
“Spit it out, Don,” you said with an amused sigh. “You already know what happened, right?”
“I think I do,” he answered. 
Donnie approached you and the baby, guiding you to a different part of the lab, where he instructed you to place her in a little open chamber, which you knew he used to analyse materials. You tilted your head at his request.
“Do you really need to know her molecular composition to tell she's a turtle like you?” you deadpanned. 
“I just want to know for sure if she’s who I think she is–”
“Whoa!” came a voice from behind you suddenly. “You two sure work fast!”
You both turned around to see Leo, Mikey and Raph at the entrance of the lab.
“We leave to get food and you already had a baby?” Leo joked. 
Heat spread on your face, burning on your cheeks. 
“We- Wha-??” you stumbled over your words. The baby in your arms squealed in glee, apparently very on board with Leo’s comment.
“That’s not how it works, Leo,” Mikey said, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. “Babies aren't made in labs, they–”
“Yeah, they grow in a cabbage,” Raph interjected. “Everyone knows that.”
You all went silent. 
“I’m obviously joking!” Raph called, Leo and Mikey erupting in laughter.
While you were busy trying to get your heated cheeks under control and everyone was making fun of Raph, Donnie had taken the little turtle from your arms and placed her into the chamber. He left the front panel open so she wouldn't feel trapped.
There was a loading bar on his screen, labelled „retrieving genetic material“. The bar progressed fairly quickly and after a couple of seconds the message appeared: „Analysis successful: Congrats, it‘s a girl!“ accompanied by the sound of a party blower, and followed by some caricatures of you and Donnie's faces surrounded by confetti.
At that, the laughter died down and all eyes fell on you. 
“Oh my god, called it!” Leo exclaimed.
“Shut up,” you told him, but the embarrassment in your voice didn’t make it sound particularly stern. “Donnie, clearly that's not possible, right?”
As you asked this, you turned around to see the turtle in question averting his eyes, a bit tensed up with his shoulders slightly raised, and hands curled into fists. Under his mask you could see a furious blush reaching to his neck.
“Eh?” is all you managed to mutter out.
“Clearly she came from a different timeline or dimension, but…” Donnie started, bringing up his hands to his face to try and hide from you. “Yeah, it's true.”
Letting out a shaky sigh, he picked up the little turtle, who had been following the whole exchange with great interest, looking from one person to the other. Donnie then moved to sit where he had been earlier, at the table, with the little turtle on his lap, looking lost in thoughts.
You shooed the other three out of the room, much to their dismay, to get a moment alone with Donnie. He was being a bit uncharacteristically quiet and … non-rambly, science-wise.
Grabbing your chair, you brought it to the other side of the table to sit next to him. Meanwhile, the baby turtle had discovered Donnie’s abandoned project on the table and her focus shifted completely to it. From his lap she could reach properly and started investigating the device. Donnie didn't seem to mind at all, which was sounding yet another alarm in your head. Instead of reprimanding the smaller turtle to leave his things alone, as you would have expected, he watched with soft eyes how she skillfully turned the device in her little hands, babbling to herself as if trying to make sense of his contraption.
“Is… everything okay?” you asked softly, placing your hand on his arm.
“I’m just…” Donnie took a moment to find the right word. “Stunned, I guess.” 
“How so?” 
“I’ve tried imagining this a couple of times,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, then clicked his tongue. “Scratch that, I think about this all the time.”
“About what?” you questioned, and your heart skipped a beat; does he mean what you think he means?
“You’re really gonna make me say it out loud,” he mumbled, lifting his eyes to meet yours, then heaved a deep sigh. “About us. What life will be like with you by my side.”
He then gestured to the little turtle still tinkering with the device.
“And about having kids, apparently.”
“Y-you think about our future together?” you said almost in disbelief, your chest tightening at his confession.
“Of course I do,” he responded immediately. “I can't really imagine a future without you in it. O-only if you want to stay, that is.”
“Obviously I want to!” you said and held his hand. You were leaning in, about to give him a kiss, when the turtle tot exclaimed in glee. And you could have sworn it sounded like she was trying to say “eureka”.
Before Donnie could stop her, she detached two cables, turned the thing around and connected them on the opposite side. You three looked at it expectantly to do something, but nothing was happening, so she gave it a smack with a grunt, and that's when the lights went on and it started whirring.
“No way! You fixed it?” Donnie exclaimed happily and held the baby under her armpits, lifting her up, to which she cooed and blew a raspberry.
With a smile, you leaned your head on your hand, propped up on your elbow on the table.
“Well, it’s no wonder she’s smart,” you spoke. “She’s got good genes, after all.”
Donnie’s gaze came to meet yours and he smiled as well, one of his rare soft ones, and your heart started racing all over again. 
Just as you were about to ask what you should do with her, there was some zapping behind you, the same zapping you had heard from the portal earlier. 
“Donnie is gonna kill meee,” came a familiar voice as a figure crossed through the portal into the lab, and you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was an older version of Mikey.
When he spotted the baby in Donnie’s arms, his shoulders slumped visibly in relief.
“You little rascal!” Mikey scolded her. “I look away for three seconds and you go off running!”
The baby stuck out her tongue at him, trying to hide behind Donnie’s arm.
“Heh, looks like brains aren't the only thing she inherited from you,” you tell Donnie with a mischievous grin.
“Whatever could you be implying,” he remarked sarcastically.
Mikey went to pick up the baby but she cried out, her arms doing a grabby motion towards you, and you could feel your heart tightening a bit at the sight.
“Hey now, it’s okay, little one,” you tried comforting her as you held her tiny hands. “We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”
Donnie tensed up his jaw as the baby was taken from him, and you couldn’t help the sad smile on your face. Mikey shot you an apologetic look, and turned back towards the portal.
“This never happened, we were never here,” he said over his shoulder with a wink, and stepped through the whirls. 
The portal zapped closed again, and not a second later three heads peeked into the lab through the door.
“Is everything alright?” Raph asked.
“We heard voices just now, was someone here?” Leo questioned as he looked around. 
“Where's the baby?!” Mikey said, bringing his hands to his head.
“It’s okay,” you calmed them down. “She's back where she's supposed to be.”
Donnie’s hand came to hold your own under the table.
“We’ll see her again,” he promised, more to you than the others. “Hopefully soon.”
And then you knew the heat that prickled your cheeks probably wasn’t gonna leave any time soon.
~~~~~
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lecsainz · 9 months
Text
TATTOOED
request: could you write something with lewis or daniel where there reader is a tattoo artist and she gives him a tattoo and he starts flirting and asks her out? if not its totally okay! sending all my love
pairings: daniel ricciardo x tattoo artist!reader
authors note: I can't even, but like carolina by harry styles was totally stuck in my head while I was writing! it's like, seriously playing on loop in my brain and I can't even deal with it
✩. . . masterlist !
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Daniel Ricciardo had always been a fan of tattoos, and it wasn't just for show – he had thousands of inked stories etched across his body. He had a genuine appreciation for art, relishing the meanings they held for him.
He hadn't really planned on getting another tattoo during his off-time from Formula 1 while in Miami. But there he was, stepping into a small, incredibly cool studio – at least in his perspective – though who was he to judge what was cool.
"Hey?" he leaned casually against the wooden counter. "Anyone here?"
"Hey! How can I help you?" A petite girl with a few doodles on her arms seemed to appear out of nowhere.
His lips curl into a charismatic smile, "I'm thinking about adding some more art to this masterpiece," he gestures to his arm covered in ink. "What do you think?"
She chuckles softly, "Well, I think you've got a pretty good canvas already."
He laughs, her quick wit catching him off-guard. "True that. But I've got a spot that's feeling a little empty."
"And what kind of art are you thinking?" she raises an eyebrow, her eyes curiously tracing over his existing tattoos.
He taps his chin playfully, "You know, something meaningful. Something that'll give my other tattoos a run for their money."
She nods in understanding, "Got any specific design in mind?"
Daniel leans in a little, his playful grin not wavering, "How about a cheeky smiley face? Right here," he points to an empty space on his arm.
She lets out a laugh, clearly not expecting that. "I can definitely do that," she says, amusement dancing in her eyes.
As she sets up her equipment, they fall into easy conversation. He learns that she's not just a tattoo artist; she's a storyteller who helps people etch their tales into their skin.
Throughout the tattoo process, their conversation flows effortlessly. She shares stories about the tattoos she's done and the emotions behind them, while he tells tales from his racing experiences. He realizes that she's genuinely interested in people's stories, and it's something he finds refreshing.
As she works on his arm, he finds himself studying her, noticing the way her brows furrow in concentration and the occasional smile that tugs at her lips. He's captivated by her passion for her craft.
"So, what's the story behind this one?" she asks, her fingers gently tracing a scar on his forearm.
He hesitates for a moment, then decides to share. "That's from a crash a while back. Nothing serious, but it reminds me of how far I've come."
Her eyes meet his, and he can see a mixture of understanding and admiration. "It's amazing how life's twists and turns can leave marks that become part of who we are."
He nods, his gaze lingering on hers. "You get it."
As she finishes up, he examines the smiley face tattoo with a grin. "It's perfect. Might just be my new lucky charm."
She smirks, "I'll take credit for your future wins then."
He chuckles, "Deal. But I'll need a lucky charm in return – your name."
She blinks, her eyes widening a bit. "You want my name as a tattoo?"
He laughs, realizing he might have caught her off-guard. "No, just your name. I'm Daniel."
She smiles, extending her hand, "Nice to officially meet you, Daniel. I'm Y/N."
He takes her hand, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "The pleasure's all mine, Y/N."
He leaves the studio that day with a new tattoo and something more – a sense of connection and curiosity about Y/N. As he walks out into the Miami sunlight, he finds himself debating what to do next. But, as always, he doesn't back down from a challenge.
Y/N looks up from her work as the bell above the door chimes. Her eyes widen in surprise as she sees Daniel standing there, holding flowers. "Hey," he greets, his voice a bit more uncertain than usual.
"Forgot something?" she teases, her voice holding a light note.
He scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Yeah, I know it might sound a bit forward, but how about we grab a drink tonight?"
She chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Wow, smooth move, Daniel."
He grins, his signature charm kicking in. "I mean, we did establish a connection over art and stories. I thought it'd be a shame not to continue that."
She raises an eyebrow, teasing. "You must really trust me if you're inviting me to a dark alley for drinks."
He laughs, the sound genuine and carefree. "Oh, I'd never take you to a dark alley. It's a rooftop bar with a view – much safer."
She feigns contemplation, tapping a finger to her lips. "Hmm, rooftop bar, huh? Well, I guess I can make an exception for a charming race car driver."
He pumps a fist in the air, playfully victorious. "Yes! You won't regret it, promise."
She grins, shaking her head. "Alright, Daniel, you've got yourself a date. But you better not show up in a racing suit."
He feigns a pout, "But I look so good in them."
"Save the suit for the track. Just be yourself," she replies with a warm smile.
He nods, his eyes locking onto hers. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."
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