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anxiousbabybird · 3 months

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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

#love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #love and Deepspace hcs #rafayel HCs #Zavier HCs #Zayne HCs #mdni

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aidaronan · 1 year

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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

#steddie #fanfic #mine #woodworker steve #rock star eddie #i meant for this to be a drabble but 😂

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angllicjk · 1 month

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𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒂 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ #𝟏

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Choreographer Major!Jungkook X Rich Ballerina!(fem)Reader

Mini Series!!

Strangers to lovers! Au

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: In which Jungkook is so enamored with the pretty Ballerina he gets glimpses of dancing in the studio across from him when he’s practicing.

A/N: back with something finally!. I hope you all enjoy this lil bit of the Drabble series I’m starting. I’m really excited for it. Originally I wanted to make this a full length one shot but I decided to turn it into a Drabble series in stead cuz why not lol. Also the more I write for this new couple the more I’m getting attached & will want to continue writing more for them.

The best thing about transferring over to this royal academy of fine arts was not only because Jungkook can finally take his dancing more seriously, but also because he gets to look at pretty things everyday and by that, what he really means is the pretty little thing currently stretching before practice in the cutest pink bodysuit. A ruched sweetheart neckline and a small satin bow in the middle, mesh skirt to match that flows nicely with every move made.

So adorable.

It hadn’t even been a full week in yet since he started here but you’ve already quite captured his heart.

In the middle of his five minute break, he’s currently downing a bottle of cold water, but watching you twirl about and move effortlessly in the studio across from him. Jungkook realizes that his thirst is not entirely quenched and water isn’t merely enough to satiate it.

As much as he’s heard about you. The spoiled nepo princess who comes from a family born with old money that’ll last future generations a lifetime. Out of touch. Off limits. Stuck up prude. Too good for anyone. He’s only interested in getting to know you. Not the one people have told him about all around. Although, he hasn’t so much as said a word to you nor properly introduced himself yet, but Jungkook knows that you’ve caught on to him and the way he watches you, has an inkling that you secretly like it.

The little timid smiles you try to hide when you notice him staring a little too long in class or when you catch him watching you stretch before practice starts with a slightly annoyed look. He doesn’t bother hiding it either. Jungkook likes to tease and he likes the little attention you give him as well. He’s caught you once or twice stealing a glance at him when he’s going shirtless during practice.

It’s cute. You’re really cute.

It’s almost a month of this. Stealing glances, your pretty smiles he barely gets glimpses of and even faux irritated eye rolls he finds absolutely adorable. Lingering gazes from across the ways and brushing against your touch in between passes down the halls. It gets jam packed sometimes as students are struggling to get to class but he doesn’t mind the struggle that much. Not when Jungkook purposely squeezes up against you and he fucking loves to see your small and gorgeous self trying not to melt under his stare from above as he passes through, oh so slowly. And it’s not until a random Thursday evening does Jungkook finally hear your lovely saccharine voice that sounds like his forever favorite song.

“You know, it’s quite rude to stare.” Having caught him watching you once again from the entrance of the studio you're currently practicing in, you slowly walk your way up to him, crossing your arms.

“I was admiring you, pretty things should always be appreciated.” His lips curl into an attractive smile and the sight of him leaning against the door frame with muscular bare arms crossed over his broad and buff chest nearly has you in awe of how fine of a specimen he absolutely is. He’s glistening with sweat, hairline, neck and chest. No doubt having just finished his own dance practice. The white tank he’s clad in sticks to his upper body almost like a second skin and the gray sweats hanging low on his hips just add on to the flutters in the pit of your stomach and traveling down south.

You bite back a smile, keeping a neutral look as you level him with a narrowed stare. There’s no need to be getting flustered or nervous in front of a guy like him. Although you absolutely are on the inside, but of course he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, was that really what you were doing?.”

As you come to a stop in front of him, you say with a raised brow in questioning. His gaze falls to your glossed pink lips, looking so soft and scrumptious. Jungkook can only imagine how they’d feel against his own and he licks his lips at the mere thought of such. The apples of your cheeks have a dusted pink to them he thinks looks cute on you. The light glam makeup you’re wearing is pretty but it’s not needed, he thinks. You’re effortlessly gorgeous, he could stare at you all day long and never tire or be bored.

“You know it can be pretty creepy, especially coming from a stranger.”

He doesn’t move an inch nor does his unwavering gaze with you falter, piercing into your being like he’s trying to dig deep into your soul.

“Is that so?. Hmm.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the door frame so suddenly and steps up to you as you have. He’s so close that it prompts you to take a step back, but he’s quick to follow closely once more and the intensity of his stare pins you to your spot, unmoving. His aura and the dominance he exudes is overpowering. Your own resolve is waning, cracking at the seams. Fuck, do you not have it together anymore like you initially thought and you’ve barely even met the guy.

“I know you like it when I watch you, princess.” The corners of his lips tug up into a full blown teasing grin and he tilts his head, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he watches you for a moment. As if he’s got you all figured out.

“When I have my eyes on you. I see the way you smile to yourself when you think I’m not looking and don’t think I don’t notice the little shows you put on for me when you do your stretches. Especially when you do them with your partner.”

A breathy hitch escapes you, heart rate spiking and feeling a bit embarrassed at being called out like this, but you both know it’s true. You’re not exactly subtle yourself when you give him something extra to look at when he’s watching.

Jungkook takes another step closer, this time fully invading your space as he leans in to whisper in your ear for you to hear his next words very clearly. The whiff of his sweat mixed with a light fresh jasmine musk(most likely his cologne) fills your nostrils and oh how you can’t help but to slightly inhale how nice he still smells, even after practice.

“I’ll have you know, I can stretch you out the way you need in more ways than I’ve seen these past few weeks, princess.”

The deep velvety tone of his voice sends tingles down your spine and he starts a heat below you almost can't think straight. Nearly moaning at the words he speaks and Jungkook catches note of the tiny whimper you tried to keep inside. He smiles widely, licking his lips at the sweet sound of it.

It excites him and strokes his ego a bit to know you’re affected by him just as much as he’s affected by you and what you do to him. Pretty doll like you will be the death of him. Oh how he knows it.

Your heart is beating rapidly and it just might burst out of your chest with how hard it pounds. You think he might be able to hear it with how close he is to you.

The sudden bell ringing throughout the studio has you startled and you back away from him immediately. Jungkook takes his sweet time walking his way backwards and watching you a bit longer as he does so.

He likes the sight of you a cute flustered mess and he thinks he should make you one more often for all the teasing you’ve been doing.

“Well, you should probably get to class and by the way, I’m Jungkook. Nice officially meeting you princess.”

With one last smile he turns around and enters the hall, mixing in amongst students getting to their next class.

The second he’s gone you exhale a deep breath, hand on your forehead rubbing at your temple with your mind still running a mile a minute trying to process what just transpired between the two of you.

The both of you finally talked. The new and cute dancer you’ve been silently crushing on upon his arrival called you pretty. His name is Jungkook and he may be into you just as much as you’re into him?.

“What the absolute fuck…”

౨ৎ — hope you enjoyed! let me know your thoughts as well, I’d love to read them 🫶🏻

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 17)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,902

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

There’s a knock on your door and it’s the one time you’re thankful that Rhysand has taken Feyre out on a date.

Your heart thuds uncomfortably fast in your chest and your hands shake with nerves as you smooth them across the skirt of your dress one last time.

After you had parted ways with Lucien at the coffee shop yesterday, you’d taken a solo trip to the mall to search for something to wear to the opening of Azriel’s exhibition tonight.

After trying on too many dresses to count, you had settled on this one, black and elegant, the fabric clinging to your curves in all of the right places. The store employee had halted in her tracks on her way through, as you stared at yourself in the full length mirror, contemplating whether it was too simple, or too fancy for the event.

The woman had been overcome with emotion, complimenting you so many times that you weren't even sure how to acknowledge her gushing after the plethora of nervous thank you’s you’d offered in response.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous. Azriel has made it clear that he’s not trying to impress you tonight, and you shouldn’t be trying to either, but you want to look nice for the occasion anyway. This is a real exhibition, not put on through the art school, and it’s the first you’ve been personally invited to, by someone you like or not, and you wanted to be dressed appropriately.

You’d done up your hair in a simple, yet elegant style. Your makeup accentuates your staggering beauty, matching the dress, and you’ve slipped into a pair of black kitten heels, low enough to be considered appropriate for the occasion, but tall enough to give you that boost of confidence.

Overall, you look smoking hot.

But you’re still facing nervousness as a knock on the door sounds again. It’s gentle, not impatient like you’d expect Azriel to be. He’s promptly on time, seven thirty just like he said he would be, and you have been ready for fifteen minutes, making sure you were punctual as well as not to piss him off.

With a last breath, you open the door.

It’s Azriel, of course, and the sigh you were in the middle of releasing wooshes out of you with force as you drink him in.

You know that he’s a handsome man, shockingly so, but tonight he looks like a god. He’s wearing simple black trousers with a matching black button-up, the top three buttons undone to show off the tips of the tattoos across his collarbones and his golden skin.

His hair is clean and brushed, and it looks like he may have taken a pass at it with a bit of gel because it’s perfectly set in a naturally tousled look.

He looks incredible. Good enough to eat.

In your trance, you hadn’t noticed that Azriel had fallen into a similar one, golden eyes going molten at the sight of you in your dress. You don’t see the way that his heart picks up in his chest, how his fingers curl into fists to stop himself from reaching out because they’re stuffed deeply into his pockets.

Shaking yourself from your stupor, you clear your throat lightly, trying to dispel the tightness lingering there.

Azriel blinks once, twice, and his eyes meet yours again.

“You look…” he trails off, eyes dipping down again. He needs you to turn around so that he can get a full view of you, but he shoves that thought from his head as quickly as it enters. “Yeah,” he finishes awkwardly, lamely. He wants to punch himself, because your cheeks go red.

“Uh, thanks, I think,” you respond softly. You don’t invite him in because you’re still too stunned to say anything more. Of course, Azriel looks amazing in his normal t-shirt and jeans, but seeing him dressed so smartly has something warming in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t overthink it, princess,” Azriel continues, schooling himself back into his stoic self. “Are you ready to go?”

You nod, “Let me just grab my bag.”

Azriel waits by the door while you turn and now he has the entire view. The back of your dress is low, showing off the length of your spine. It curves around your bottom like a fucking peach and it’s difficult to force his eyes away from the sight of you like this, but he manages, shifting on his feet as his cock twitches in his pants.

You lock your apartment door and follow Azriel down the hall. You can see the muscles of his shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt and you wonder if that’s why he hadn’t buttoned the top buttons of his shirt, because they’d surely burst. Your gaze travels lower, into betrayal territory, and you bite your painted lip at the sight of his taut waist and tight ass.

Good enough to eat, indeed.

“Elevator or stairs?” Azriel asks you as you approach the end of the hall. There had been a maintenance team who had been working on the elevator after you’d been trapped within its metal confines, and it is now back up and running. You haven’t been on it since yesterday morning, and you’re still feeling a little weary of it, so you opt for the stairs.

Azriel slows his pace as you carefully make your way down the stairs in your heels. They’re not tall, but the dress is snug around your calves and ankles, and you really can’t trip up not only because you don’t want to embarrass yourself, but because you don’t need to give Azriel the ammunition.

“Are we taking your bike?” you question as you reach the lobby landing. You pause for a moment to tug your dress back into place. You wince. You hadn’t thought about trying to wear a dress on his bike. “Because I don’t think I’ll be able to get on it in this.”

Azriel thinks that he could help you out of it, and he doesn’t dare look at you as he pulls out a pair of keys from his pocket, showing them off. There’s a few keys attached to the ring, along with a fluorescent keychain with the words ‘getaway car’ scrawled in bright ink.

“We’re taking Cassian’s car,” Azriel says, holding the front door of the building open for you. “If that’s alright.”

“More than,” you exhale thankfully, shoulders relaxing their tension. You hadn’t wanted to start an argument this early in the night, and thankfully Azriel has been nice enough to accommodate you.

He seems so unlike the Azriel that you know that you almost ask if the real him has been abducted or something because he’s opening the passenger door for you, telling you to mind the rust and hole in the floorboards, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on, and shutting the door behind you before making his way around to the driver’s side.

“Cass staying home tonight?” you question, breaking the silence. The vehicle had started up with a rough cough, and the ride is bumpier than you remember it being the first time you were in it, but you’re sure you’re being hyper aware of everything right now because you’re nervous.

Azriel shrugs. He’s tapping his fingers nervously against the steering wheel and you can’t help but to stare, noticing each groove and patch of marred skin. The beauty of something so torturous happening. You still don’t know what it is that caused that scarring, but for him not to let it stop him from creating his art, you’re in awe.

“He lets me use his car sometimes, if I let him use my bike.”

You raise a brow in shock. “You really trust him on that thing?”

Azriel huffs a laugh and your heart stutters. He glances at you and your heart completely stills at the gleam of amusement in his golden eyes. “I trust Cass with my life.”

The rest of the short ride is silent, except for the loud sounds of the hardly running Bronco and the tires against the road seeping in through the hole in the floorboards between your feet. If it’s because Azriel is nervous, you don’t know. You don’t know him well enough to know his tells, but he’s still tapping along the steering wheel. Otherwise, he is as cool as a cucumber.

You, on the other hand, are stewing in your nervousness. You’re feeling jittery, on edge the closer and closer you get to the building Azriel’s exhibition is being held in. It’s not far from your apartment, but each rotation of the tiers closer sets your teeth on edge.

You know that this means nothing. Joining Azriel tonight isn’t anything more than someone not wanting to be alone. You know that he doesn’t care much for your opinion, he had made that clear yesterday in the elevator, but with the attention on him all night, there’s bound to be some on you as well.

On the other hand, it feels like more than just an event he needs someone to attend with. The mere twitching of his fingers gives away how important this night is to him. You can’t help but to wonder why he hadn’t invited Rhysand of Cassian, if he trusts them with his life. Why wouldn’t he want to share such a moment with them? And why bring you?

Azriel rolls the car to a stop between a packed, well-known restaurant and a jewelry store. Flanked by each store is an elegant, sleek looking gallery. The outside is covered in black marble, and the lighting looks expensive and bright, the sign above the door reads ‘Opulent,’ in large black letters.

The front matches the name.

There are black curtains pulled down across the large windows beside the door. They must be pulling them open later in the night or even later in the week when the exhibition is open to the public.

You turn, looking at Azriel who is staring out the front of the car, hands twisted tightly together in his lap.

In a move of confidence, you gently place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches and you watch him try to cover it up, but it’s too late, you’ve already seen the pain flashing across his gaze. You rip your hand from him as fact as you can.

“You ready?” you ask, and you don’t like the way your voice trembles a little.

Azriel nods once, then again, firmly. “Yeah.”

He opens your car door for you once more and allows you to find your footing before he’s locking up behind you. There’s a bit of a breeze now that the sun has dipped down behind the large buildings and you shiver a little, more so when Azriel places a warm hand at your lower back to usher you inside.

His skin doesn’t breach yours, touching only the sliver of silken fabric just above your ass. His palm is a heavy weight against you, and the mindless rubbing he’s circling his thumb in has your knees wobbling a little as you walk, warmth stirring to life in the bottom of your gut.

Your breath catches in your throat so harshly you nearly choke, stepping inside of the well lit area. The gallery is empty of patrons, but filled with art. The most beautiful charcoal drawings you’ve ever seen line the walls. Most of them are drawn on large canvases, bigger than your torso, and you can instantly tell how much work has gone into the creation of them, because they’re simply breathtaking.

“There he is,” a man greets with a broad smile. You tear your gaze from the artwork on the walls as Azriel gently nudges you further in the door. You blush, not realizing that you’d stopped in your tracks upon seeing the gallery. You don’t know where to look, it’s all so beautiful, but you politely drag your gaze to the man headed your way despite wanting to stare at all of the artwork. “The man of the night! And who is this lovely lady?”

His voice is rich and deep, much like the color of his upswept eyes, glowing bright with excitement. He approaches you and Azriel, patting the artist on the arm as if he knows that he doesn’t favor shaking hands or hugging. You watch, waiting to see if Azriel flinches like he had in the car when you’d rested your hand on him, but he doesn’. There’s a tightness to your body and an edge to his jaw that tells you he might have anticipated the move, as he eases slightly once the man’s hand is removed from his arm.

“Thesan, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Thesan. He is the owner of Opulent.”

“(Y/N),” Thesan greets you with a firm handshake and a knowing look in Azriel’s direction. He rolls his gold eyes in response as Thesan turns back to you. “So nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” you smile softly in response. You don’t know why Thesan had given Azriel that look, and you’re not sure you’re going to find out because Thesan is whisking Azriel away, talking of some loose ends that need finishing up before the doors open to the show in fifteen minutes.

“Are you going to be okay out here while I go with Thesan?” Azriel asks you, and it’s almost jarring, how polite he is tonight. When you wave him off with a nod, he continues, brows furrowed a little like the thought of leaving you alone bothers him. Perhaps he’s worried you’ll do something to his art. A blasphemous thought. “I will only be gone for a few minutes. Feel free to look around if you like. I’ll bring you a drink on my way back.”

“Thank you, Azriel,” you answer, and his gaze lingers before he turns away, leaving you and his exhibition alone.

You look around at the empty gallery, unsure of where to start. The only sound throughout the space is the clacking of your heels on the floor. You refrain from pulling out your phone and texting Feyre and spilling the entirety of your night. You’re so nervous you hardly even know what to do with yourself. You feel awkward, like an imposter as you decide to start nearest the entrance to the street, keeping a few steps away from the large drawing lit brightly on the wall.

The piece before you is so dark you can hardly make out the forms. The entire canvas is black with deep sweeps of charcoal, only light areas have been reigned in by an eraser. You stare at it for a minute, two, allowing the painting to speak to you.

It feels lonely, despairing, almost, and the next one you move to is an angry stroke of work, lines thick where Azriel had clearly pressed harder into the rough canvas as he drew. A canister of something spilling across the floor in waves. Two eyes ripple in the reflection of the liquid, no, there are four, their pupils malignant and cruel.

The image sends shivers crawling up your spine.

Each piece is more beautiful than the next. You find yourself both enthralled and rushed, wanting to spend as long as you want in front of each picture while you have the room to yourself, rushed because you want to see all of the work before others arrive.

The charcoals become lighter, happier as you follow the path that you’re walking around the room. In the center, well lit and clearly the centerpiece of the collection, is a canvas that you’re not entirely sure could fit in through the front door of the building.

It’s titled ‘Not an Accident’ as per the plaque beneath the canvas. As it towers over you on the wall, you feel small, glued to your spot, throat thick and eyes prickling with tears as you scan the work, absorbing its utter, raw beauty.

A pair of hands, clenched together like they’re praying. Each finger presses into each other in a desperate way, as if seconds away from clawing through the skin. One is perfect. Smooth, clean skin, while the other is marred, so familiar that it makes your throat ache.

The skin of the second hand is puckered and ruined, tortured by something great, something that will always be carried, by both memory and sight. It’s Azriel’s hands, you would be able to recognize them anywhere, and the smoothed skinned one must have been what his hands looked like before whatever accident happened. It’s strong, healthy, fingers calloused with life. The other is tender, fresh skin pulled tight over jutting bones and weak muscle.

A tear escapes the corner of your eye, but you don’t wipe it away.

This artwork is a harrowingly beautiful sight.

You hear the soft footfalls of Azriel moving closer, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the masterpiece in front of you.

He strides up beside you, looking up at his work.

“Are you ready for the event to start?”

You nod, wiping the lone tear that has escaped. You don’t think Azriel notices.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I think I am.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #artist!azriel #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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transvampireboyfriend · 1 year

Text

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him. They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry. Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months

Text

meeting him at the pub

(cw: age gap)

I don’t know how it happened, how I ended up chatting to the tall metalhead at the pub. But I was meeting my friends there like every other Wednesday and when I got drinks from the bar, a dark, friendly voice piped up. “Hey, nice shirt.” My head whips to the side, looking for the person who gave me the compliment.

Right there at the table, sitting alone, a huge, tall guy with long dark hair. Tattoos adorned the big strong arms distracting from his bandshirt, I think it’s from Dark Tranquility. The drawings span to his hands ending at the knuckles, that moved as he grabbed the bottle of beer standing right in front of him.

My eyes close in on his face, a ruggedly handsome one. A nose that seems to have been broken at least twice. Lips formed into a friendly smile. Serious eyes looking straight at me, eyes that had seen some shit, but the laugh lines around them speak of a man who rather likes to laugh. He also looks a bit older than me.

I almost stumble over my own feet, halting for a moment to look which shirt I’m wearing today. It’s my Death shirt, the one with the Symbolic Album art. I look back up at him, smiling. “Thanks!” I continue my trip to the bar, a pep in my step.

When I walk back with the drinks in my hand, I shoot another friendly look in his direction. One that he answers with a nod and tipping his beer in my direction. And I totally blush at the little friendly gesture. I sit down with my friends handing them their beers, but I can’t help my eyes finding their way back to him every so often, to see what he’s doing.

He’s just chilling alone, at his table, drinking his beer, looking at the TV where some kind of soccer game was being shown, playing with his phone from time to time. It is so fucking tiny in his huge ass hands. And half the time I look in his direction, his gaze is already on me. Which is making me nervous. Not because it’s creepy or anything in that sense, but because he’s attractive. Oh my, ruggedly handsome, seeming like a gentle giant, while the way he’s sitting and observing everything around him is telling a different story.

“Just go fucking talk to him.” My friend sitting to my right grins at me. I shrug. “I don’t know.” They roll their eyes. “Just do it, you little chickenshit.” I throw up my hands. “Fine, fine, okay.” I snatch up my beer and hesitatingly make my way to his table.

He’s already looking at me, sitting up straight, as I approach him and ask with a shy smile on my face: “Can I sit here?” I point at the stool across from him. He seems a bit surprised, but he nods. “Sure, take a seat.”

I sit down and then a moment of silence falls over us where we just look at each other. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, a half-smirk making his face even more handsome, a few strands of hair falling over his left eye and cheek. He seems a little bit tense and I suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. We just look at each other. And I can’t stop looking at him.

“So, you like Death too, huh?”, I ask him, and then I hear how that sounded. “The band, I mean.”, I clarify laughing. He joins in, a dark manly chuckle falling from his lips, and I can see his shoulders drop down a bit. Seeming a little more relaxed.

“I do.”, he answers. “Actually, one of my favourite bands.” His voice is a bit higher than I would have anticipated from such a big guy, he has a nice timbre and some kind of accent when speaking English, that he’s trying to mask.

“Understandably so.”, I say, going on a rant about my favourite bands. He just looks at me, stunlocked. His mouth slightly open. His eyes scanning my face, dropping down every so often. I don’t stop talking and he listens, nodding along.

“I also like Lorna Shore a lot, do you know them?”, I want to know. He shakes his head, still intently listening while only speaking every so often. “They’re a symphonic deathcore band, and my god, their music just blows you away.” He chuckles again. “And they’re in town next week, but I don’t have anybody to go to the concert with me.”, I say, turning down the corners of my mouth.

“I could accompany you.”, he chimes in which shuts me up. A friendly offer. But the way he’s looking at me is making it feel like so much more.

“Really? You would do that?”, I ask surprised.

He shrugs one of his shoulders, looking to his fingers that fiddle with the label on the beer bottle. “Yeah sure, I can be your company for that evening.”

I close my mouth and think about it for a moment. “Of course, that would be… very nice of you.” Great, I’m so eloquent when it comes to flirting with men. Especially older, tall metalheads. But the way he’s still fidgeting with the beer bottle, I think he’s having a hard time as well. Which makes his offer so much more surprising. But I’m not mad at it. Not at fucking all.

I clear my throat. “Maybe I can get the tickets and you can get the drinks?”, I suggest. I wouldn’t want this to seem like I wanted to mooch off him.

He hesitates for a bit, but then nods. “Sure.” I nod as well and drink some of my beer. So that’s that, huh?

“So, what do you do? For a living?”, I ask him. He halts for a second, and I add: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” I tilt my head and push my cheek into my propped-up hand.

A smile forms on his lips, as he looks to the side for just a moment, but his eyes find their way back to me. “You’re a nosy one, huh?” which makes me hide my face in my hands looking at him through my splayed fingers, but he only laughs at my gesture.

“I’m actually a soldier, a mercenary. I’m currently on leave.”, he explains. My eyes widen at his words.

“Really? Damn okay.” That explains the aura around him that I couldn't pinpoint before. “So like, what’s your specialty or however this is called in the military?”, I ask, still being nosy.

His lips curl into a confident smile, his whole demeanor changing a bit. “I’m an insertion specialist.” And the way he says that makes my skin tingle, my jaw dropping down a bit. Because the tone in his voice makes me think about a certain kind of insertion. The ‘drop your clothes, get naked together’-kind.

He laughs again as he sees the expression on my face. “Get your mind out the gutter.”, he jokes.

“Huh, I didn’t say anything.”, I defend myself, weakly, holding up my hands in defense. He pulls up his eyebrows, donning a knowing smile and leaning back.

“M-hm.”, he says and his fingers wander to his lips, stroking over them absent-mindedly. “I specialize in breaking down doors and getting people out of whatever situation they’re caught in.” How he says it makes me smile, because he says it so non-chalantly, but I can see the pride behind his words.

A little silence falls over us again, but instead of being uncomfortable we just sit in it and look at each other. He drags his hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the brown strands. And I’m so normal about this. My god, why does he have to be so attractive?

“How old are you?”, he asks me, his eyes searching my face like I’d have it written on there. The first question he asked me this evening.

“I’m 25. And you?”, I return the question. He winces a bit, but he answers: “I’m 41.” I nod and sip on my beer. Well, I already assumed that he’s older than me, so I’m not really surprised by the age gap.

“I’m old enough to be your dad.”, he says and takes a sip from his beer. My eyes are glued to his lips, the way the bottle rests against them. Then he swallows and I follow the motion as the liquid flows down his throat.

I arch a brow. “No, you’re not.”

He tilts his head to his side, a little smile forming on his lips. “Well, maybe if I started early, I could be.” His eyes dart to me, for just a moment.

The other brow joins the one already sitting at my hairline. “Did you start early?”, I ask him.

His smile gets wider while he slowly shakes his head. “No.” He takes another sip and leans back a bit.

“So, not actually old enough to be my dad.”, I conclude the conversation, a grin turning up the corners of my mouth. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one as well?”

He looks at me, his eyes boring into me. I see the little twinkle in them, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I got to get home.”, he finally says, the expression on his face turning apologetic.

I hide my disappointment behind a charming smile. “Okay, no worries.”, I tell him.

He leans forward, coming a little bit closer, and I stand my ground, even as his scent hits my nostrils, and I have to damp down the excitement flooding my veins. He’s smirking at me now and raises his hand until his finger makes contact with my nose. He just booped my nose. “Tell you what though. Let’s exchange numbers and then we’ll see if you’re still up to going to a concert with me when you’re sober.”

I laugh a bit and pull out my phone from my pocket. “Okay, deal.” But his words also make me think. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”, I ask him as I hand him the device which looks ridiculously small in his hands.

He grins while tapping on the screen. “I do, but I don’t trust myself when I stare into the face of a beautiful woman.” He looks at me again and hands me back the phone, getting up. And he gets taller and taller and taller. I mean, I saw that he’s freaking huge when he was sitting down. But my god, he’s more than a foot taller than me. I have to put my head back to be able to look up at him.

“A beautiful woman, huh?”, I repeat his words back to him, ignoring the way this sentiment makes me feel.

“Aye.”, he says leaning down a bit. “Good night then.” He presses a small, almost chaste kiss onto the top of my head, while at the same time grabbing his leatherjacket. He puts the worn piece of clothing on and heads in the direction of the door.

I look down and see the new contact in my phone. His number, but instead of his name the little crown emoji sits on the top of the page. “Wait, what’s your name?”, I yell after him.

He turns around again, the long hair whipping over his shoulder, grazing over the worn leather. A grin lights up his face. “König, you know, like ‘king’ in German.”, he explains. He raises his hand again and waves goodbye, then he’s out the door.

He’s gone, but he’s still on my mind the rest of the evening while spending time at the pub, on my way home, as I’m getting ready to finally sleep. Especially the little forehead kiss lives in my mind rent-free.

When I wake up again in the morning, I contemplate what to do while I get myself a coffee. Finally, I gather my courage and shoot him a text.

metalhead!König has me in a chokehold, so this was veeeery self-indulgent. i hope you still like it <3more to come soon, because i can't wait to go to a concert with him :')

part 2 or more stuff in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #she likes the dark #tw: age gap

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omegalomania · 4 months

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so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

#fall out boy #tourdust #*making poasts #trying to format this conventionally BROKE THE POST so i did my best #i burned my grilt cheese typing all this up pls appreciate it #the weird break in the middle is cause otherwise it wouldnt post. mea culpa.

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lovelybrooke · 7 months

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Darling, Let us Love You (Yandere Ouran High School Host Club) Chapter 1.

Series Masterlist~~Regular Masterlist

(Just for reference, while in readers pov I'll be using he/him pronouns for haruhi. For haruhi's or other characters pov, I'll be using she/her.)

---

Your hand hovers over a cup filled with paintbrushes as your eyes stay trained on your painting. It was not close to being finished, only the base colors being blocked in, but it was still magnificent. It loomed over you on a wall in front of you, definitely the biggest painting you've ever done. It was intimidating, but in a good way, you were proud of yourself.

It was a nice feeling, you've been struggling a lot lately with adapting to your new school. When you first enrolled into Ouran, you didn't really know what to expect. You've never heard much about the school, but that was to be expected. Even after you started classes, you made the active decision to keep to yourself, constantly afraid of even looking at your classmates. You avoided everyone like the plague, spending most of your time in the safety of the first-year art classroom.

It was only in the classroom when you felt like you could actually be yourself. It was extremely large, and left you daydreaming about what the higher level art classrooms looked like.

The teacher was kind, and sympathized with your plight. He could tell from day one that you were pretty awkward, fumbling in any social interaction you were forced into. He knew first hand how the other students at Ouran thought, and so he allowed you to spend time in his classroom, even when he wasn't there.

Now, you spend all your time here, in the art room, alone. It's not like you mind it that much. You've never really been good at making friends, so you didn't mind spending time by yourself. Though, you couldn't deny the loneliness you felt, especially whenever you came home to your grandparents. They were always so worried about you, spending so much time in your room.

A part of you wanted to be better for them, to put yourself out there for them. But it was hard, and you were so afraid of what other people had to think that you rather lock yourself away from anyone than have someone dislike you.

"Excuse me." There was an unrecognizable voice that caused your hand to shake, knocking over the paintbrushes onto the ground. It turn slowly, offering a nervous smile to the stranger.

The stranger jumps, rushing over to help pick up your brushes. "Oh! I'm so sorry." You wave him off, moving towards the ground to pick up the brushes in embarrassment. The stranger however, laughs, his brown hair falling in front of his eyes a bit.

"Don't worry, I was the one to scare you." He say softly, handing you the paintbrushes which you gingerly take, making sure not to get any pain from your hands on him. You waste no time putting the brushes away in your bag, ignoring the stranger as he stares at you with a raised brow.

"You're (Y/n) (L/n), right?" You nod, slightly confused. The stranger must've been able to tell, because he shakes his head while rubbing the back of his head a bit. "I'm Haruhi Fujioka, I'm the other scholarship student." Oh! That makes more sense now, you were sure they seemed familiar but you couldn't tell from where. You've seen him around school once or twice, but lately you've seen them less and less.

"I'm sorry if I surprised you, I just wanted to see if you actually existed." His statement made you even more embarrassed, if that was even possible. You look away from the boy as you sling your bag over your shoulder. You didn't know what exactly to say in this situation, letting out a dry laugh instead.

Haruhi must've gotten distracted, because instead of saying anything, there was silence. You look back in his direction, noticing him staring at your painting. "Did you paint this?" He asks softly, which you nod quickly at. You feel your grip tighten on the straps of your bag as you watch Haruhi silently judge your painting. Your mind could only image what he was thinking. They probably thought it was terrible, that it was childish and boring.

"It's beautiful." There was only sincerity in his voice. "You're so talented." He whispers to you as you stare at him in awe.

The death grip on your bag lightens "thank you" you say, getting a smile out of boy. The smile quickly leaves though when he notices the bag on your side.

"Are you leaving? Let me walk you out." Haruhi takes you hand, leading you out of the classroom. You swear you can hear your brain short-circuit when he takes your hand in his without a worry.

Once out of the classroom, you remove your hand from Haruhi, mind clearing from your embarrassment. You thank him quickly, bowing slightly as you try to walk away from this awkward situation. "(Y/n)! Wait!" Haruhi hurries after you, stopping you in your tracks.

Haruhi looked nervous, his pale face a slight scarlet as he hold out his phone towards you. "C-can I have your number?" He asks with a small stutter. "I just--you're the only other normal person here..." You understand what he's trying to say, but you're still surprised. Nonetheless, you take his phone and punch in your number, handing it back to him quickly.

A smile graces his face when you hand his phone back. "Thank you!" He says. "If you want--we can hang out tomorrow." The suggestion made your heart soar, and you nod with a giggle, giving him one last wave before walking out of the school and on home.

---

"Kyoya? Did you know there was another scholarship student enrolled here?" Haruhi asks the host, who looks at her through his glasses. He smirks, tilting his head.

"Why, of course." He says with a smile. "It's my job to know about the students enrolled at our wonderful academy."

"Sure." She responds, looking at her phone, your number displayed on her screen. There were no messages from you, which for some reason, sent a pang through her chest. What were you doing right now? Maybe you were busy and that's why you haven't texted her yet, that made the most sense. It's only been a day, but Haruhi couldn't help but really want to talk to you again.

"Aww-Haruhi." Hikaru started. "Do you have a crush~" Kaoru finished. She moves away from the teasing brothers, groaning at the matching smirks on their faces.

"No, they're just the only normal person here, of course I want to get to know them." She responds, taking a seat on a near by couch, which the orange haired twins follow her to. She repeatedly checks her phone, for what exactly, she doesn't know.

The brothers look at each other with a mischievous look, "Do you know if they're in our year or not?" Haruhi nods slowly, putting her phone in her pocket.

"Yeah, but I don't think I have any classes with them." Now that she thinks of it, you're pretty quiet. If you did have classes with you, she wouldn't know.

"You don't have any classes with them." Kyoya mentions from his spot off to the side. Haruhi stares at him in disbelief, while the twins giggle together. She knows Kyoya is noisy, but she wouldn't expect him to know your schedule.

"Well that settles it then." Hikaru spoke, now sitting at Haruhi's side.

"We'll just have to meet them on our own time." Kaoru said at her other side. Both of them were shrugging, but she could clearly recognize the playfulness in them. It made her heart sink into her stomach, causing her to shoot up from them couch in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

"No, no, absolutely not!" She says, pointing at the two, who were both pouting at her. "You guys are just sign to scare them away!" She yells, brows furrowed in frustration, which only made the brothers more excited.

"Why are you yelling, Haru-chan?" Haruhi straightens her back, eyes widening at the sight of Honey. The upperclassman entered the room with a yawn, rubbing his eyes from the bright light. He must've just woken up from a nap, thankfully he's in a good moods.

"Sorry Senpai, it's noth--"

"Haruhi has a new friend~" The twins say in tandem, giggling when Honey's demeanor instantly changes, his eyes lighting up as a smile decorates his face. With a laugh, he rushes over to Haruhi, wrapping his arms around her in tight hug.

"Really, Haru-chan!?" Honey looks up at the host, eagerness written all over his face. "Can I meet them, pretty please." Haruhi had to swallow down an annoyed groan, patting Honey on the head while shaking her head lightly. Instantly, Honey's smile was replaced with a deep frown, his lip quivering a bit as a stared at Haruhi with sad eyes.

"B-but Haru-chan..." He lets out a small cry "I wanna meet your friend..." He begged, hugging Mori as he was picked up by him. She sighs, shaking her head as she grips the bridge of her noise in frustration. She just wanted to hang out with you, she didn't expect all this to happen, but that was her mistake. She should've known this was how the host would react.

"Haruhi!" Oh no, not him. For the millionth time today, she felt her heart nearly stop. If anyone had to find out, why did it have to be Tamaki. She knows he'd throw it out of proportion, confronting you directing and making sure you weren't a "threat." She gives the club leader a deadpan look, attempting to calm her beating heart. Tamaki didn't look phased, staring at her accusingly. "You didn't tell me you had friend!"

"Yeah, I didn't." She responds blankly. It's almost like I didn't want to. She kept that in her head. Tamaki looks almost hurt at the girls blank stare, but he preservers, straighten his back and smiling at her.

"You should invite them to the host club, we would love to meet them." He sounded pretty insincere, still prompting the other members to look at her, expecting her to agree. The twins were still smiling, like it was permanently etched onto their faces. Kyoya and More look impassive, which was pretty normal, while Honey was ecstatic, nodding his head along with Tamaki's words.

"I just met them yesterday, I think that's a pretty big leap."

"Well." Kyoya spoke up, pushing up his glasses. "We can take this as an opportunity to make sure they aren't a threat to business." Haruhi titled her head, confused and slightly worried. "What would your dear guest think if you started getting close to a random student?, a commoner nonetheless." Kyoya explained.

Haruhi didn't want to admit it, but he was right. It isn't uncommon for guests to get jealous, though Haruhi didn't have to deal with it as much compared to the others. But that shouldn't be a problem, right? You're just a friend, and she planned on keeping you away from the Host Club, but that was ruined.

Haruhi rolled her eyes, nodding her head stiffly, like it was painful to agree. "Fine." She spat out, crossing her arms. Honey was the most excited, smiling from his spot in Mori's arms, while the twins looked like they were already scheming something up. Haruhi, in contrast, was annoyed, a frown on her face and her posture not befitting a host. She wanted you to be her friend, and she knew that you would be drawn away from her if you met the hosts.

She pulls out her phone, hurriedly typing a message before shoving it back into her pocket with a little bit too much force.

She just wanted this day to be over.

---

Haruhi Fujioka: Could you meet me in music room 3 after club activities are over?

That was the first message you received from Haruhi, which made you slightly confused, to say the least. You didn't keep up much with the school, but it was known fact that music room 3 was the club room for the Host Club.

You didn't know much about the Host Club, and what you didn't know was learned against your own volition. Most rumors regarding the others members, non of which you knew. Since you spend most of your time in the art classroom, you haven't seen them around the school and you're pretty sure you don't have any classes with them.

Wanting to meet after club activities was also confusing. You stayed late after school on days you didn't have work, so you knew most clubs went pretty long. You didn't want to hold Haruhi up, but you also didn't want to make Haruhi uncomfortable by suggesting another time to meet.

Haruhi's your first friend here, you didn't want to mess this up.

(Y/N) (L/N): Yeah sure.

You sent the response a few minutes after Haruhi's first message, but Haruhi's response came quickly.

Haruhi Fujioka: Okay great! See you then.

You closed your phone, putting it away in your bag and grabbed your lunchbox. It was pretty small, but was enough for you. You mostly took food from the bakery you worked at. It sold coffee and backed goods, so whenever you could, you'd ask your boss for anything they could give. Your grandparents were old, and you didn't want to worry about you eating, especially when you already didn't have that much money.

Today's lunch two slices of bread with some jam, some vegetables and fruit, a long with a small piece of candy as a treat. You always chose to eat your lunch in a classroom, since the only time you ate in the lunchroom you were stared at the entire time. To this day you didn't know if it was because of the food or your clothes.

You couldn't even get a bite in before someone burst into the room. You jumped, holding onto your lunchbox for dear life as two matching figures enter into the room unceremoniously. It was strange, even their chaos was synchronized, both falling on the floor together. They both huff a bit before two pairs of eyes meet yours, two matching smiles adorning their faces, causing you to gape a bit, fearful.

"Um--hello?" You whisper, placing your lunchbox back down on the table. The two barely acknowledge you as they stand up, recovering from the debacle quickly. They stare at you, almost menacingly, your heart racing in your chest. It races even faster when they both take seats down across from you.

They both prop their arms on the table, placing their chins down on their hands, smirks on their faces. Somehow they were even more synchronized up close, everything down to their creases in their brows were similar. It was kind of unsettling, making you back away from them a bit, hoping they didn't notice.

"So, you're Haruhi's new friend." The boy on the left declares. It wasn't a question, so you didn't know what to do other than nod slowly.

"Aww--you're kinda quiet aren't ya?" The one of the right laughs, his brother laughing a long with him. You bite the inside of cheek, embarrassed. You didn't like them already, and all you wanted to do was leave. You kept eyeing the door, hoping for a way out.

"I--uh--met him yesterday so I wouldn't really call us friends." You mumble, not looking at the two. Your eyes flickered in between your hands in your lap and the door. Would it be considered rude to start packing your stuff up now?

"I'm Hikaru!" The one on the right said.

"I'm Kaoru!" The one on the left said.

So neither of them can sense your discomfort. That or they're ignoring it.

You wave to them, you movement robotic and stilted. "I'm (Y/n). Why are you here?" You cut straight to the point, all this being too much to handle. The twins don't seem to care about question, both standing up and sitting down next to you so that you're now trapped in between the two.

"We just want to learn more about Haruhi's new friend." Hikaru, who you recognized due his voice said. While they haven't spoke much, his voice was much deeper than his brothers, making it slightly easier to tell them apart.

"What's so wrong with that?" Kaoru completed his brother's sentence. You shake your head, you're not going to finish lunch, aren't you.

"Are you friends with Haruhi." You ask, tilting your head towards Hikaru. His smile doesn't reach his eyes, which tells you it's most likely fake, not so surprising.

"Oh~ you don't know?" Hikaru laughs. "We're in the same club together."

"Do you know anything about the school you attend?" You turn your head to look at Kaoru, annoyed at his statement. Sorry that you didn't know something about the person you just met yesterday. "Haruhi's a part of the Host Club."

Your eyes widen a bit but honesty, you're not that shocked. Haruhi's pretty attractive, even you could admit that. Even though they didn't really seem like someone to join a Host Club, who were you to judge someone you just met.

"Oh." You nod, standing up. You were officially tired, and classes were about to start. You didn't want to be late for class, so you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Turning, you don't miss the slight hint to surprise on both the twins faces. You bow slightly towards them, holding onto your bag as you do so. "Well, either way, if you're friends with Haruhi, I hope we can be friends as well."

You don't stay long enough to get their reactions.

---

The sky was a nice shade of pink as the sun descends on the horizon. You can't spend too much time taking in the scenery though, as your main job is finding your way to music room 3. This school was too big for no reason at all. Honesty, why couldn't you and Haruhi just meet someplace that didn't require you to walk up flights of stairs to get anywhere.

Eventually, after getting lost multiple times, you managed to find your way to the music room. The large doors that kept you out were intricate, like everything else in this school, and only served to make you nervous. You questioned even stepping a foot inside, debating leaving Haruhi and coming up with some elaborate excuse. Maybe this was some prank that Haruhi and the Host Club were all a part of, that's why he wanted to meet you after school where others wouldn't see you. You knew it was far fetched, Haruhi seemed nice, but your mind seemed keen on making you feel as scared as possible.

You exhaled quietly before opening the door, taking small steps in. The room was still decently bright due to the amount of natural light. It was honestly beautiful, the pink sky bringing in warm light that made you just a little less afraid.

"Oh! You must be Haru-chan's friend!" You were stunned out of your peaceful state by what sounded like a child. That couldn't be right though, you assumed until you felt something attach itself to you. Looking down, you were met with the sight of a small boy, a bright smile etched across his face. "I'm Honey! It's so nice to meet you!"

You didn't know what to do in this situation, freezing up in peer surprise. You open your mouth in an attempt to say something, but your brain is unable to come up with anything to say as another person comes up behind who you now know as Honey.

"Mitsukuni, you're scaring them." The tall boy say, detaching Honey from you. Honey gasps dramatically, eyeing you with a sorry look.

"Really?!" He gapes. He seriously couldn't tell? " I'm sorry..." He mumbles, laying his head on the taller boys shoulder. You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

"I-It's fine." You murmur. "Have you seen Haruhi? I was supposed to meet him here." Honey's eyes lit up, nodding excitedly like he wasn't just moping a second ago.

"Yeah! He was looking for you!" He looked around the room from a top of his friend. "I don't know where he went though..."

"Hey~" Oh no.

"You came~" It was the brothers again. You felt one of them wrap him arm around you, moving your head to see it was Hikaru, who was smirking you down playfully. "We didn't think you would." You cringe slightly underneath his arm, attempting to back away without causing too much of a scene. It didn't work, because the moment you got free from Hikaru's hold, Kaoru was there to wrap his arm around you.

"Hikaru, Kaoru--oh, you're here." There was yet another person, this time a tall boy with glasses. He looks way too mature to be hanging around these weirdos, but the coy smile makes you sink into the floor. "Hello, I'm Kyoya Ootori, you must be Haruhi's friend." You slowly move out of Karou's hold, his arm dropping to his side.

"Yeah, I guess..." You say, moving closer to him. Honestly you just wanted to get away from the twins, whose gaze wouldn't leave you. Kyoya's smile doesn't leave, like it was his default expression. He doesn't look away from you as he calls for Haruhi.

Haruhi doesn't take long to get to you, appearing from deeper in the room. Honestly, you didn't realize how big the room was until then.

Haruhi looked relieved to see you, his face softening when he meets your eyes. Next to him, was yet another new person, causing your shoulders to sag as you await yet another weird social interaction. "I'm sorry." Haruhi says when he reaches you. "I was busy with club stuff."

You nod, bringing your face closer to Haruhi to whisper in his ear. "That's fine, but why am I here?" You couldn't wrap your head around it. Haruhi looks confused for a second, before taking a quick glance around the room and instantly understanding your plight.

"Sorry." He rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. "They wanted to meet you." He looks annoyed, glaring at his club members.

You nod, still kinda confused. "Alright well, I'm (Y/n), it's nice to meet you." You say, bowing. Before anyone else could speak up, Haruhi was pushed to the side lightly and you became face to face with the blond host that was with Haruhi.

"What do you have with my Haruhi?!" You step away as he yells at you. His Haruhi?, weird but okay. You gape, searching your brain for an answer.

"Uh--nothing? Haruhi was the one who talked to me first." You finally answered. It wasn't a great answer, but the only one you could come up with. At the response, the blonde became less apprehensive, backing away from you while cupping his chin in thought.

"Senpai, leave them alone, you're acting weird." Haruhi spoke blankly. The boy frowns at the statement, becoming kind of pathetic as you visibly deflates.

The twins, who you almost forgot were here, took place on each side of the host. "Come on boss, you're not that weird." They said together. You don't agree but that doesn't really matter. You watch as the blond host becomes even more depressed, crouching down on the floor dramatically while mumbling to himself.

"Is this how they usually act?" You whisper to Haruhi.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." You shake your head.

"It's fine, just wish you would've warned me, y'know?" Haruhi blushes a bit in embarrassment, nodding a long with your words.

"It's not your fault, (Y/n)." You jumped a the sound of Kyoya's voice, he was standing right next to you. "It's not everyday Haruhi brings someone over, it makes sense that Tamaki would be in shock." So that's his name, Tamaki. You've heard of him around school, mostly from the girls who swooned over him. You never expected him to act this...pathetic.

You don't respond to Kyoya, to busy watching Tamaki get made fun of by the twins. It's honestly kinda funny, and nearly brings a smile to your face. The smile never comes however, as you're interrupted by a notification from your phone.

"Dang it, I'm late for work." You murmur.

Haruhi gasps. "I'm so sorry." He says, clearly embarrassed and a little overwhelmed. "I-I'll talk to you tomorrow."

You nod, not wasting time walking out of the club room. You don't really know what today was, to much happening for you to really process. It made you crave getting to work, just so you could be anywhere but inside that room with those people.

Back in the club room, however, Haruhi was holding back from scolding the others. She knew from the very beginning that they were going to blow this out of proportion, she just hopes they don't ruin this for her.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere ohshc #ohshc x reader #yandere ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran host club

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the-lonelybarricade · 14 days

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I have such big feelings right now about how this fandom treats artists. This is the one hill I am willing to die on: all fandom artists deserve respect regardless of what ships they create art for.

Listen to me. Traditional fandom is dying. AI art is cropping up everywhere in fandom spaces, stealing work from real artists while getting twice as much recognition.

Meanwhile, the artists who are clawing and fighting to stay in these spaces are subject to constant criticism and harassment. They are taking hours to work on pieces that they share with us for free only to be bombarded with ungrateful comments. And on top of that, their work is constantly being stolen and reposted on other platforms without proper credit.

Fandom artists are fighting for their lives right now and the least that we can do is pay them the basic decency of shutting our mouths if we don't have anything nice to say.

If you are not paying the artist, then you are not entitled to art of your favorite ship.

If you are not paying the artist, then you are not entitled to art that fits into your specific interpretion of a ship.

If you want fandom artists to keep creating content that they share with us for free out of the kindness of their hearts, then you better learn to start supporting them.

Fandom artists are part of our community, and they SEE YOU making these negative comments. You may think that you're only putting down one specific artist, but they all see you. And they feel discouraged, and they feel angry, and they feel unwelcome, and many of them leave.

If you wonder why so many artists are putting their work behind patreon and withdrawing from fandom spaces, it's because of the way we treat them. Do better.

#I am ready to ride to WAR of behalf of our fandom artists #I am livid at the way I've seen some of you treat artists just because they make content for a ship you don't like #Ask yourself what you're actually contributing with your negativity #What results are you looking for??#Some of you need to go back to kindergaren i swear to god

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starkwlkr · 26 days

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love in las vegas | mark webber

through the decades masterlist

Las Vegas, 1967

Mark didn’t know why he even agreed to accompany his friends to sin city. He would much rather stay in his cosy bed and sleep, but he knew how much the trip meant to his friend, Tom, since it was a bachelor party.

“Think we’ll get lucky tonight?” Tom asked Mark as they walked the Las Vegas strip. Tom had talked all day about going to the casino so he was more than confident that he would be walking home with a few hundred dollars.

“I don’t want to jinx it.” Mark chuckled. Soon the group of friends found themselves in Caesars Palace. Mark never imagined himself at such a fancy place like Caesars Palace. He always thought it was for big name celebrities like Paul Newman and Audrey Hepburn.

Still he was here to enjoy time with his friends.

“Hey, I think I’m going to check out the rest of the building. I heard the pool is pretty nice.” Mark said to the group, but no one heard him since they were too busy on the slot machines.

He walked away and found himself wandering around. He wasn’t sure what direction the pool was located in so he kept walking and admiring the art work on the walls. That was until a sweet voice caught his attention.

“Honestly, Mary, why can’t I go alone? I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Fuck what the press thinks, they already think I’m a bitch!”

Mark watched as the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the hall. She had on red heart glasses and wore a shade of red lipstick that Mark loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until he almost bumped into a wall.

“Mary, I’m going to be by the pool. All this thinking is making me stressed and I can’t be stressed.” Mark didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but he was going to the pool either way.

He watched as you were greeted by every person as you made your way to a cabana. You took your sunglasses off and laid on the lounge chairs.

Go talk to her . . No, she’s busy. . But it can’t hurt, right? It might! Think positive!

His inner thoughts were stopped when you called for him. He looked around thinking you were calling someone else, but he was proven wrong when you pointed at him.

“You are talking to me . . ” Mark nervously chuckled as he approached your cabana.

“Well yeah, you look lost.” You laughed. “You have an accent. I take it you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Australia. I’m just here with a couple of friends. They’re in the casino.” Mark explained.

“You can sit down, I don’t have germs.” You joked when you noticed that he was still standing. So Mark sat in the lounge chair across from you. “How are you liking Vegas?”

“It’s loud that’s for sure. It’s . . . perfect for those fancy rich celebrities. Especially those actors like that guy from to kill a mockingbird!”

“Gregory Peck? He’s lovely. Wonderful kisser too.” You reply with a smirk.

“What? Is it like a rumor?”

“No, I speak from experience. It was also lovely to work with him. He invited me to his house in California. I declined, but it was still nice of him to invite me.” You recalled the time your friend had invited you to his California home.

“Wait . .” Mark thought for a second. “You’re —”

You nodded. “One of those ‘fancy rich celebrities’ except I don’t come to Vegas often. I’m only here a couple hours. You see, I am supposed to be on a flight to Santa Monica for the academy awards, but I wanted to spend some time here. I like it here, it’s one of the few places I enjoy.”

Mark instantly felt like an idiot. He didn’t mean to insult you. Well then again, he didn’t know you acted. He hardly watches any new movies anyways. He had been busy with racing.

“I never asked you your name.” You said.

“Mark.” The Australian replied.

“Well Mark, do you want to explore Vegas with me?”

Mark didn’t have to think twice. You took him to your favorite restaurants, took pictures with your Polaroid and walked the strip until your feet ached. But there was one final stop that was a must do when you’re in Vegas.

Graceland Wedding Chapel

Was it a stupid decision? You and Mark didn’t think so.

That night, you had married a nice stranger.

“I can’t believe that we just got married!” Mark said as you walked out of the chapel with the certificate in hand. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

“Call me Mrs. Webber.” You held out the hand that Mark had been holding. The Australian grabbed it and kissed it.

“I think this is the best night of my life.” Mark sighed. “Wait, that makes my life sound extremely sad. Don’t listen to me.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. This is the best night of my life too and I’ve been to so many places, but being here with you is my favorite.”

As Mark leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you gasped and pulled back. You had completely forgotten about the academy awards ceremony that you needed to attend in a few hours.

“I need to go! Wait, you need to go with me too!” You said.

“What? I can’t!”

“Why not? We just need to get to Santa Monica, get you a suit and get to the ceremony. I’m nominated for best actress!”

Best actress? You couldn’t miss that!

“Fine, but if my friends find out I ditched them—”

“They won’t notice you’re gone, I promise.”

Mark grabbed your hand and together you ran to the parking lot where his Porsche had been parked. Before you could get the chance, he opened the door for you and gave you a charming smile.

“Mrs. Webber.” He winked.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Webber.” You blushed.

Soon, you and Mark were on your way to Santa Monica. Mark had rolled the windows down and turned up the music. It was perfect. You could feel the cool air going through your hair, the sweet sound of ‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tommy James and The Shondelles filled your ears. Mark kept glancing at you every chance he got. In his eyes, you were the love of his life. He was a firm believer in soulmates and here you were in the passenger seat of his Porsche. You were living proof that love at first sight existed and he was head over heels in love with you.

The four hours it took to get to Santa Monica, you and Mark talked, sang and you even got a few minutes to nap. When you arrived, you took Mark to get a suit. Mark had only wore a suit a handful of times. He hated wearing them as a child, but now they weren’t too bad.

“What if I get asked a question?” Mark asked. “I don’t know anything about movies or actors!”

“Relax, i lie when I don’t know stuff. It’s fun.” You smile.

“It’s easy for you, you’re an actress. Wait, what if someone asks who I am to you? Don’t you have to talk to your manager or someone important before you say something?” Mark was too busy stressing while you were busy thinking how you were going to celebrate even if you didn’t win.

“Tell them the truth. You’re my husband, is that a bad thing?”

Being married wasn’t a bad thing, especially if you were his wife, mark thought. He would marry you everyday of his life if he could.

“I’ll scream it from the highest rooftop if I have to.” He kissed you.

After giving the cashier his last fifty dollars for the suit, Mark drove you to the Beverly Hills Hotel where your manager and makeup team were. He had never stepped foot in such a fancy hotel like the Beverly Hills before, sure he was in Cesars palace not too long ago, but the Beverly Hills was an upgrade.

You eventually made it to your room and entered the suite. Again, Mark was amazed by every little thing from the painting on the wall to the fluffy pillows. You honestly found it adorable.

“Where have you been?” Your makeup artist, Alexander, asked you.

“It’s a long story. Alex meet Mark, Mark meet Alex. There, we’re all good on introductions for now.” You smiled as you sat in the makeup chair.

“Where did you find him?” Alexander questioned as he got started on your makeup.

“Vegas. He’s Australian and he’s technically my husband. I’m Mrs. L/n-Webber.” You stated confidently. You were living up to the title now.

“What!?” Mark stood beside your chair not knowing if Alexander hated him or not. He wished he was anywhere else.

“Relax, we won’t say anything about it to the press.”

And that was the biggest lie. Well, sort of.

By the end of the night, Mark was introduced to most of the biggest faces in Hollywood. He got to walk the red carpet and posed for pictures with you. He also got to witness you win your first academy award where you publicly declared your love for him.

“Lastly, I want to thank Mark. These past few hours have been the craziest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” You spoke into the microphone as you held your golden statue in your hands.

Mark was seated beside your manager, Henry, who was thankful the night was almost over. Little did Mark know that his friends had been watching the ceremony in their Vegas hotel room. Some of them were still drinking while others wondered how Mark even got an academy award winner to marry him.

The Australian smiled as you left the stage. This was certainly an interesting night that nobody would forget and nobody did. You and Mark stayed married. While Mark raced all over the world, you worked on numerous films and won awards. During the summer of 1969, you gave birth to your first child, a girl named Diana. Then four years later, your baby boy was born. Little Michael Webber, a spitting image of his father. You were in love with your little family even if it all started with a wild night in Vegas. You wouldn’t change any of it.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber fluff #actress!reader #through the decades series

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