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#but hey I did put it together and that is progress!
miheartsedthings · 7 hours
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dom billy x sub reader. angry sex.
He’s had a fight with Neil and takes his anger out on you as stress relief. Full on rough missionary sex where he breaks the bed. Ofc that doesn’t stop him hehe. some after care at the end please.
Took me a minute to figure out how I wanted to do this, but it finally came through! Hope it's everything you hoped for :)
@billysbot
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Use Me.
NSFW 18+ only. DomBillyX SubbyReader
Warnings: Angry sex, punishment, mean/aggressive Billy, dacryphilia, rough play, degradation/praise kink (a blend).
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Billy can’t seem to ignore calls from his dad and he doesn’t know why. When his name pops up on his phone every instinct in him says to ignore it, yet theres some deeper drive pushing him to follow through. He picks up, and then hates himself for it later. That man has a talent for disguising his cruelty as parental concern and being states away from Hawkins hasn’t changed that. He’ll call every other week to ‘check in’, interrogating Billy about his progress in college or how much he’s making at the garage. What bothers him most is when his dad inquires about you. 
“That girl still putting up with you?” or “Sure you didn’t drug her?” and sometimes, “What do you two even do together? Paint each other’s toenails?” 
All of this is accompanied by laughter, playing it off as a joke until Billy shows it bothers him. At which point Neil turns reprimanding. 
“So damn emotional. Did I not teach you well enough how to be a man?” 
Be a man. 
Billy’s told you about growing up under that command and how impossible it was. Neil didn’t want his son to be a man. He didn’t want a loyal, intelligent, passionate kid. The kid he had. He wanted a pet. Someone he could direct and who would follow orders. Take a kick from time to time and never complain, never fight back, only bend further and further. It was impossible to be this without filling up with some poison. Tidal waves of anger and despair. Billy had felt all of it throughout his life and now he’s away. He’s far from Hawkins and his dad but he’s still carrying it around. His weather follows him, storm clouds erupting above his head when Neil calls. Why the fuck does he answer? 
He started the morning with one of these calls and like no other time it’s filled him with so much fury. His anger persisted through the day, making work drag on. Even his workout was intense as he strained his body, full of indignation. He came home still swelled with anger, his mind rolling over questions that were infuriatingly hard to answer. Why did it still matter what his dad thought of him? Why does he care so much when he makes jokes about you? Why does he answer? Why can’t he stop feeling like a failure no matter what he accomplishes? No matter how often you tell him you love him why can’t he stop wondering when you’re gonna leave? Why can’t he truly trust anyone? 
He comes home, sweaty, and miserable, anger seeping from his pores. He doesn’t look at you when he walks into the little apartment. 
“Hey,” you call from the kitchen where you’re leaning against the counter flipping through recipes on your phone. 
“Hey,” he mumbles and disappears into the bedroom, his gym bag on his shoulder. Instantly, the air is tense. You’ve been around Billy long enough to know when he’s close to erupting. You pad over to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjam. His face is red and tight, eyes dark as he strips from his musty gym stuff. He still won’t look at you. 
“I’m thinking about salmon for dinner but I don’t know.” 
He doesn’t respond, tossing his clothes toward the hamper but not in it. You cross the room and correct this. 
“We could order out–”
“I don’t care.” 
His tone is careless and heavy with warning as he marches naked into the bathroom. Your eyes slip down to watch his beautiful asscheeks as he goes. Then the door shuts, cutting off your view. You hear the shower turn on and plop down on the bed, hearing the old frame creak. You’re not sure what’s got him upset this time, but you’d hoped going to the gym would fix it because you’ve been missing his body all day and it’s killing you. If you were allowed to touch yourself when he wasn’t around, you would’ve played with your toys while he was working out. It would’ve been so nice to fill yourself, fucking your cunt with the dildo he’d gotten you for Christmas, imagining it was him. You catch yourself rubbing your thighs together, your lips so wet they slip against each other. 
You lay back and pull up your skirt and your hand goes to your panties for just a moment. Just one squeeze of your clit between your middle and ring fingers, making it pulse. A soft sound escapes and you snatch your hand away, pulling down your skirt. It doesn’t matter how bad you want it, rules are rules and you have to be good. You get up and cross to the mirror on the dresser. Maybe it’s not so unfortunate that he’s mad tonight. He’ll need a release for all that aggression.  
You change into a dress you know he loves on you. The one you’re not allowed to wear out because it hugs you so well, showing off your cleavage and riding up when you walk. Once dressed, you pluck a book you’ve read a dozen times from the shelf and lay on your stomach on the bed, ass facing the bathroom door. You consider taking off your panties, but he likes peeling them off himself. So you lay there, unable to see a single word on the page because all you can visualize is him diving face-first into your pussy. 
He’d eaten you for a solid hour a week before, slow and sloppy while you lay there melting into his mouth again and again. The memory sends a shiver through you. Then, you remember just the other night, you’d aced a an exam he helped you study for and your reward had been getting filled from behind while a vibrating buttplug pulsed in your ass. You came so hard it made you cry. God, you want that again. Behind you, the shower turns off, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You stop your wiggling hips, sometimes they move on their own but right now you have to be patient.  
The bathroom door opens and you jolt, staring uncomprehendingly at the book in your hand. You hear Billy stop in the doorway, feel his eyes on you, giving you goosebumps. The silence feels like a living thing. It breathes between you and hardly leaves room for your shallow inhales. He moves, and his towel is flung across the bed beside you, flustering your nerves again. 
“What’cha doin?” 
His tone hasn’t softened a bit, and when you look back at him, you’re met with the same cold expression. If anything, his anger has set in further. His brows are a hard line above his darkened eyes, his jaw set. He looks at you, completely unamused and you’re nervous for a moment that you won’t pull this off. Then, your confidence returns, you raise your brows, your face relaxed into perfect innocence. 
“Me?” you ask, your voice kitten soft, “I thought I’d read a little before making dinner.” 
While you speak, you slowly move back onto your knees, your ass poking up for a moment before you sit up, your legs folded under you and sitting on your heels. The perfect little princess pose. Your gaze moves down his chest, eager to see the rest of his naked body, but he grabs your chin, lording over you. 
“Uh uh, eyes up here,” he says. You look up at him, and you know he can see the desire in your eyes. He shakes his head. “You don’t want this right now, angel.” 
His warning makes you salivate. 
“Of course I do.” you say with complete sincerity “Fuck it all out.” 
A thrill pulses down into his groin. He glares. 
“I’m gonna hurt you.” 
“Please.”
He scoffs. 
“Really, baby?” 
You nod, your mind full of fantazises, his cock driving into you, your eyes spilling over with tears, his strong arms forcing you into a hold while he cums on your face or in your ass or- he yanks you out of your thoughts and off the bed. 
“Fuck-so fuckin dumb, you sweet little idiot-get on your knees.” 
You obey, dropping to your knees, back in Princess Position. Finally allowed to look, your eyes are filled with his beautiful dick as he strokes it in your face. Your mouth falls open before he can ask, your tongue lulling out to eagerly flick at the drops of precum seeping from the tip. He grabs a fistful of your hair, sharply yanking you back. 
“Did I say you could taste it yet?” you shake your head. “Huh?” 
“No.” He smacks you quickly across the cheek. “No, sir.” you say, nearly panting from excitement. Your brain goes foggy as you watch him stroke himself. He lifts up his shaft, pushing your face underneath. Instinctively, you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 
“There,” he groans. “That’s what you get until you earn my cock.” 
You accept this, setting to work messaging his balls with your mouth, one and then the other, making him groan each time you envelope one of them. Your hands are crossed behind your back, and you know if you move them he’ll punish you, but you want so badly to get a hand around the base of his balls while you suck them. You moan at the thought, and the feeling of his nutsack on your face. 
He pulls your head back and you open your mouth just in time for him to roughly shove his dick down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he groans, pushing your head onto it with both hands. You squirm as it meets the back of your throat and he starts fucking your face harder than you were prepared for. Your throat fills with thick spit, your eyes already stinging. “You’re such a good slut, baby,” he says “Dumb. Fucking. Princess.” 
With those three words he thrusts his cock into the back of your throat three sharp times and on the last time you gag, your throat starting to hurt.
“Ohhh,” he chuckles darkly, then pulls your head back just long enough to stick his fingers down your throat, collect a gooey spread of saliva and slap it across your face, rubbing it over your lips before ramming himself back in. He helps guide your head as you take his length, the sound of his cock churning your throat mixes with his gruff moans. You can't help wiggling, finding friction grinding against your heel. You moan as you work your clit against your heel, your panties so wet they're stuck to you. 
He yanks out his dick and bends to bring his dark eyes level with yours, glaring.
“Are you fucking yourself without my permission?” 
You shake your head. You didn't think it was possible for his expression to harden any more, but it does, and his grip on your hair tightens.  
“You're picking the wrong time to disobey me.”
He commands you to move your heels out to the sides so you're no longer able to sit on them. Then, he reaches down and yanks up the front of your thong, making you yelp as your sensitive pussy is instantly in pain. 
“Hold this.” 
Your hand takes up the thong, now pulled taut up to your belly button, so tight you feel every pulse of blood to your already aching clit. He reaches down and smacks it, making you jolt and yelp again. 
“Don't you move.” 
You nod, and then he's back in your mouth. He slams himself in until your lips are flush against him and then fucks your throat. Spit dribbles from your chin and you struggle to breath as he stuffs your mouth over and over. You can't stop feeling the ach in your clit, screaming for release from the tension of your panties. Billy uses your throat like a stress reliever, unrelenting in the way he pounds into it, his head falling back in pleasure. Your eyes travel up, admiring the rolling mounds of muscle along his body. His strong, arms and chiseled shoulders, all the way up to his throat, where his Adam’s apple is on display, God, you sometimes fantasizes about rubbing your clit around that perfect bone. 
Your jaw burns, and your eyes water, clouding your vision. Your mouth is just a hot, softened hole for him to play with. He looks down at you, admiring the empty look in your eye. Meanwhile, your legs are falling asleep. 
“There she is, my favorite little dummy, finally being good for me.” 
A rush of pleasure pulses harshly through your tortured cunt and tears finally spill down your cheeks from the roaming flushes of pain in your body. Billy gives you a few more merciless thrusts before pulling your head back, leaving you slack jawed and panting, drool slicked down your chin. 
“Get up,” he says, grabbing you by the arm he forces you to bend over. You know better than to let go of your panties or move your other arm from behind your back, so you land face first in the duvet while he runs a finger along your horribly tender pussy. 
“Looks like it hurts.” He says, a sadistic thrill in his voice. 
“Yes sir,” you whimper. You don't see the little smile on his face when you say that. 
“Let me help.” 
You think he's going to say you can let go, instead he smacks your ass so hard it genuinely scares you, forcing you to cry out in pain and surprise. The sting is still bright when he does it again and then a third time, drawing pained whimpers every time. You bury your face into the duvet. 
“Better, yeah?” 
You don't answer, and he's not really asking. He shoves two fingers in your pussy, a bittersweet rush of pleasure bumps against your tortured clit. He moans at the feeling of your pussy gripping his fingers. 
“So greedy for me.” 
He grabs you, tossing you on your back so roughly the bed frame creaks again. You quickly correct your hand, pulling it from behind you and placing it on your belly, where he likes it. Your eyes still teary, you're praying he releases your clit, but be doesn't. Instead, he kneels on the ground, a cruel grin taking over his features as he places his hot mouth over the cloth choking your pussy. It's so close to being pleasurable, so close to the thing you want that it actually makes you start whimpering. 
“Please,” you whine, earning a rough slap against your clit, making you cringe in pain. 
“Did I say you could speak?” 
You shake your head. 
“No, sir.” 
“I didn't think so.” He shakes his head “I'm really trying to be nice to you, baby.” 
He grabs you and repositions you on the bed, getting between your legs. Your mind fills with pleading for him, your desperation clear on your face as you impatiently watch him stroke his cock just outside your entrance. 
“Hold that leg back,” he commands and you use your free hand to obey, holding your leg behind the knee while he pushes down the other one, lining up with your cunt. Please, please. But your hopes are dashed when he pulls your panties aside just enough to push his cock in, but not enough to end your suffering. A little sob leaks out as his thick length fills you. 
“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling closed. “Such a perfect pussy.” 
His cock fills you, adding internal pressure to the strain against your clit. His hand comes down over your throat as he picks up speed, staring you right in the eye as he drills into you harder and harder until every smack stings your ass. He fucks you like he hates you and all you can do is take it, tears streaking down your cheeks. Pained little sobs blend with moans as your body is overwhelmed with conflicting tides. Meanwhile, Billy is in pure bliss. His cock stretches your pussy just enough, filling you so much you're kind of amazed you can take all of him inside. 
He grabs the hand holding your panties and gives it a yank, forcing you to yelp in pain, a fresh crop of tears start falling and at the sight of it Billy moans again, keeping up his punishing rhythm. He pounds you into the bed, and after one particularly hard thrust you feel one of the support beams snap underneath you. For the first time all day, you see Billy smile. His hand goes to your panties again and you flinch, bracing for the pain. 
“Want these off?” 
You nod rapidly. 
“Yes, sir. Please.” 
 “So polite, what a sweet little whore you are.” 
He slips your panties off and the relief that washes over you is so immense you start to cry as he gets back to fucking you. 
“Fuck,” you whimper out, unable to help yourself. The contrast is so incredible, and your clit is so sensitive that every brush against his pelvis makes your body shiver. Billy zeros in on this and asks you to touch yourself while he fucks you, your other hand still holding back your leg. All you can handle are slow swirls on your clit, but it's enough to make the shivers roaming your body constant and heavy. 
Your eyes go unfocused as you get lost in the feeling of him fucking into you over and over. It feels so fucking perfect it makes you sob. 
“Baby,” the word dribbles out against your will and his mouth comes down over yours. He's so good to you, helping you keep quiet because he knows you can't help it. He's so thoughtful. Your breath catches as your stomach drops and you feel yourself getting close. A nervous moan purrs onto his tongue while your pussy is slowly turning to liquid gold. 
“Yeah,” he coos against your lips, “Cum on my cock, cum like a slut.” 
Your pussy walls squeeze around him while your whole body thrums from the inside out, humming like a rung bell. You can't help the tears and the babbling words falling out of your shaky lips as you ride the delicious fullness of this feeling. His hand moves to the back of your neck, still roughly fucking you until his orgasm forces him out of rhythm. 
“Fuck,” he pants “fuck, I love my perfect slut.” 
Those words and his perfect cock are enough to set you off again, your eyes rolling back as he drills you into oblivion for the second time. He pumps thick, hot cum into you, coating you inside and then keeps going, groaning loudly. He kisses your forehead, your brain bleary. Your lower body hardly feels like it exists anymore, all you can feel is a luxurious pleasure and all you can see are his gorgeous blue eyes.
Fuck. This is all you need in life. 
Finally, his hips slow to a stop and the two of you are left panting. The weight of his warm body slowly sinks onto to you as he breathes onto your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him. 
He kisses your neck. 
“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft and low. You nod. 
“Are you?” 
His arms wrap around you. 
“I needed that so much, baby.” 
You push your hand into his hair, gently stroking his scalp. 
“What had you so upset, lovey?” 
He snuggles into you, still buried inside you as his body recovers. He groans. 
“Forget it. C’mere.” 
The two of you make your way into the bathroom where he joins you in a shower. You take your time together, washing each other and taking long breaks to mingle tongues in the gathering steam. His hands are so gentle as they move across your body. So different from the way he was in bed, as a living ball of anger. You lean your head against his shoulder, trying to keep your hair dry but at the same time not caring. 
Later, in warmth and the soft leftover smell of your bodies on the sheets, he pulls you into his lap. He takes your hand into his own, his fingers running along your palm as you lay against him, hearing the rhythm of his breathing. 
“Why do I answer?” 
You’re nearly asleep when he asks this to no one, and your eyes flutter open to find the room growing dark. You can hardly see him in the fading light. Maybe that’s what he wants. In any case, he keeps his eyes down at your hands. 
“I don’t know,” you say, “There’s probably plenty of reasons.” 
You turn, touching a hand to his cheek and kissing the other one, your lips trail down to his neck where you nuzzle in, amazed, as you always are, by the warmth he collects inside himself. 
“Fuckin stupid thing to do.” He whispers. 
“It’s not stupid.” you say, softly, your fingers slipping up to play with the hair behind his ear. “It’s just more than he deserves. He’s your dad, so there’s supposed to be something to gain from answering his calls. But he’s a failure, so it’s just bullshit every time.” you yawn, “You’re not stupid, lovey. You’re just too generous.” 
He turns, finding your mouth and enveloping it into a slow, lazy kiss as you lounge on the broken bed. His tongue is soft and salty. 
“Hmm,” you hum as the kiss gives way, “I love you, too.”
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xoxo~
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thehardkandy · 2 years
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GOD i miss having my own lil workout space. used to just be able to roll up to the local YMCA squash court where sat my dad's weightlifting platform & the box full of his bars and weights and id just go set it all up inside. blast some music in my ear buds. dance around the room. read a lil book on my ipod touch & in general not have to think about anything important in the world other than that i have 2 more reps and then i gotta change the weight on the bar
#like i would blame transness but that opportunity was lost in 2017 and was genuinely one of the saddest moments of my life#when the Y told my dad like hey sorry this room is no longer going to be a squash court so uh. there's no where else for you to use this st#stuff*#there used to be 3 squash courts#then 2#then just the 1 so like it was coming#it was just sad#i sat in that place when i was 8 or 9 and had to put my hands over my ears because it was so god damn loud when my dad dropped the weights#even on the platform (some wood & rubber screwed together by a buddy some 20 years back)#and then when i was 11 i remember he told me he ordered a child-sized bar with child-size weights#and i was so excited#the day they arrived i immediately started trying it out in the front hallway of the house#did my grade 8 cumulative project (30 presentation to the school) on my weightlifting progress#it was just always something for me#but the space that made it easy was already gone for a year before i moved out#and then i moved out and made myself a weak unrecognizable creature#and evenif i wasnt trans i dont think i could just go to any gym tbh#id find reasons not to reasons why it wasnt the same#or even if i did go i would just stop going when it was inconvenient#but now i get to blame it on bigger#and when wouldi even have time? i cant do it early in the day#the commute cant be more than 15 minute walk or else i will never go in the winter#and i have to write. i hate program.i hate to do bigger and more important jobs#that will give me even less time#goddddddddddddddddddddddddd#im just sad i think#that all meant a lot to me and i would like to find the way i can get it back#it's not going to be now
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?
For the Soul (and the Heart)
Miles!42 x Fem!Reader
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
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AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE
Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection
please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!
The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.
Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.
Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.
Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.
Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”
There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.
The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.
The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.
The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.
“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.
“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”
You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”
Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”
You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.
“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”
She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”
“Thank you.”
She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.
“Thank you, again.”
“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.
“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”
"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."
Miles glanced up in confusion.
“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”
“Why me?”
“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”
“She’s pretty, and around your age.”
“Ma, porfavor.”
“Ma, please.”
“Go.”
“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.
You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.
There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.
The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.
People feared him, the violence he brought with him.
You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?
If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?
The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.
“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”
“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”
“Sí mamá, ya sé.”
“Yeah mama, I know.”
The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.
The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.
“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”
“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.
“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.
“I’m Miles, by the way.”
“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”
His lips upturned again at the compliment.
You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.
“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”
You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”
He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.
Like claws.
Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.
Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.
The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.
And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.
Miles was about the same, probably worse.
You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.
So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.
“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.
You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.
Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.
You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.
“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”
He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.
“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”
Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.
You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.
“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.
His voice had gone deeper, smoother.
“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.
He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.
The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.
“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.
“Of course, Mami.”
“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”
You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.
“Mm, it is.”
“And you’re here.”
He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.
He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.
“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”
“You too, Miles.”
“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”
He hummed.
“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.
Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.
How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.
Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.
Every little thing.
He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.
He knew you felt the same.
Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.
And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.
He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.
You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.
Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.
Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.
It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:
Can you come over later?
He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.
And you did, swiftly replying;
okayyyy !!
I’ll pick you up at 7.
six…?
7, [Name].
>:(
Don’t be childish.
i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:
You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.
Your phone pinged again.
See you at six.
You smiled.
You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.
He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.
“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”
“Don’t apologise, Miles.”
You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.
“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”
You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.
You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.
You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“You good, Chiquita?”
“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”
“Mmhm.”
You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.
“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”
He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.
“Maybe ask politely.”
You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.
“Miles.”
“[Name].”
“Oh my god.”
“It’s just a ‘please’.”
“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”
“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.
You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.
You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.
He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.
Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.
“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”
“Mm, thought you’d like it.”
“I do, so much.”
You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.
The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.
“My dad.”
Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.
“I’m sorry.”
“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”
He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.
Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.
He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.
There was no escaping his death.
So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.
He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.
“Come sit, vida mía.”
You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.
A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.
There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.
You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.
“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.
“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”
You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.
“Wh—.”
It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.
“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”
“It would.”
He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”
“Mm, we could—,”
He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.
“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”
“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.
“I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”
He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.
“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”
“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”
“Uhuh.”
“Miles!”
“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”
“Oh my goodness!”
And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.
Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.
But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.
It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.
YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️
thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife
(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)
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6K notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 6 months
Text
Neon Sticky Notes
prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.4k+
note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...
warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!
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You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.
It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.
By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.
However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.
So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.
Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.
You had an idea.
When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"
"Yeah, all good."
"Sure? Sound outta breath."
"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."
He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."
"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."
"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."
"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.
You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.
The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!
Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!
Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.
Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!
You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.
Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.
When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.
This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.
Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.
Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!
Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.
Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!
Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!
Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!
Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!
Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.
Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!
Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!
Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!
And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully
Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.
The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..
Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!
And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!
Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.
The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.
You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.
"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.
"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.
He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"
"What'd you get?"
"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.
"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.
"Like it?"
"Are these... My hearts?"
He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."
"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"
He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."
"You'd still be Carmy."
"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."
"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."
"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."
You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.
Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.
You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.
Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."
Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.
Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
2K notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 6 months
Note
Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?
FML: Fraternize
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My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.
I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.
They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:
“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”
“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”
“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”
I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:
You are loyal to your bros.
“I am loyal to my bros.”
When you are around them you feel relaxed.
“When I am around them I feel relaxed”
The gym feels like your second home.
“The gym feels like my second home.”
The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.
“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.
“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”
Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”
“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”
We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.
“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”
I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”
“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”
Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.
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The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.
The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:
Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.
Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.
Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.
Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.
Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.
Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:
“Sup, bro, welcome back.”
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A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:
“Bro… is that you?!?”
“Bruh, who else would it be?”
My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.
“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.
”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”
His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.
“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”
My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.
“They said we could watch this one together.”
The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.
You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.
“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.
Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.
“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”
Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.
As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.
Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.
‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.
A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.
My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.
The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.
My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.
You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.
“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”
My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.
You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.
“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”
It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.
You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.
“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”
I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.
The frat is life.
“The frat is life.”
My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.
Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.
And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.
And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.
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I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:
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There was nothing left but frat bro.
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lancermylove · 1 month
Text
Proposal (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo, Barbatos with gn!Reader
Warning: None
Prompt: He proposes to you.
A/N: Sorry for only doing four! 🙏
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Lucifer spent weeks meticulously planning the perfect proposal for you, taking into account your personality, preferences, and the significance of the moment.
Ultimately, he arranged a private dinner in the garden of Diavolo's castle under the starlit sky.
Before the main event, Lucifer took you on a stroll through the lavish garden, walking hand in hand with you. He reminisced about your journey together and expressed his deep affection and gratitude for your presence in his life. If you hadn't been there, his relationship with his brothers would still be broken. And even if Lucifer didn't tell you, he was genuinely thankful for everything you did for him.
As the two of you reached a secluded spot near the banks of the lake, Lucifer stopped and firmly held onto your hand. His gaze softened as he spoke from the bottom of his heart. "I cannot fathom a life without your presence, nor do I wish to imagine it. You have changed me in a way I would not have thought. You have brought light and warmth into my barren heart. Hence..." 
He brought out a beautifully crafted jewelry box containing a ring with your favorite gemstone before getting down on one knee. "Would you do me the honors of protecting and loving you?"
The moment you said yes, he delicately slid the ring onto your finger and stood up to give you a long, passionate kiss. 
It was the happiest moment in his life thus far, and he hoped to create more happy memories and moments with you.
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Despite his usual bravado, Mammon was secretly nervous about proposing to you, and while he wasn't the type to care for perfection, he wanted that moment to be perfect.
Mammon invited you to a casual outing as he wanted only the two of you to be present. The last thing the demon wanted was for his brothers to cause trouble or interfere in any way.
He took you on a long drive, eventually stopping at a secluded meadow under the pretense of a picnic. You thought it was a bit odd for him to have a picnic basket because you never considered him to be a picnic-going demon. But between your favorite snacks and the beauty of meadows, you weren't complaining.
Throughout the picnic, Mammon's nervous energy was palpable as he fidgeted with the ring box hidden in his pocket, stealing glances at you. He knew you picked up on his nervousness but was thankful you didn't point it out blatantly. 
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the meadow, Mammon took a deep breath and mustered up enough courage to speak from his heart. "Hey, (y/n). I've been thinkin'...a lot. Y'know I love ya, yeah? Look, I ain't good with my words, but since ya came into my life, things have been different, y'know? What I'm tryin' to say is I don't wanna live with ya by my side. I wanna see your face every morning, first thing when I wake up. I wanna hold ya close to me and not let go. You've made me a happy demon. I know I ain't perfect, but...I promise to be the best partner I can be for ya..." 
With trembling hands, Mammon took out the ring box and got down on one knee. His eyes were filled with nervousness, but his love for you overpowered his gaze. "So...what do ya say? Wanna marry me?"
As soon as you say yes, Mammon hopped up and gave you his tightest embrace. Then, he started to shower your face with kisses and completely forgot to put the ring on your finger.
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Diavolo planned an extravagant proposal fit for royalty, wanting to sweep you off your feet with a grand gesture and let the beings in Devildom know you were taken.
He arranged for a formal ball at the Devildom palace, inviting everyone he could think of under the guise of a general celebration.
Throughout the evening, Diavolo made sure you were treated like royalty, from your attire to showering you with attention and complimenting you left and right.
As the night progressed, Diavolo discreetly signaled for the music to change and took your hand, leading you to the center of the ballroom, where a spotlight illuminated you and him.
If you showed the slightest hint of discomfort in the spotlight, he planned to apologize later. However, Diavolo sank to one knee, producing a velvet-lined box containing a stunning ring fit for his significant other.
With unwavering confidence and charm, Diavolo began to speak. "My dearest, you have brought much joy to us. You have shown perseverance in the face of challenges, compassion in times of need, and confidence in your feats. I cannot think of a better fit for myself and Devildom than you. Would you do the honors of marrying me and ruling Devildom by my side?" 
Diavolo presented the ring to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation as he awaited your answer. When you said yes, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. The prince slid the ring on your finger before picking you up by your waist and spinning you around. 
While Diavolo was a cheerful man, the smile he had on his lips was far brighter than one anyone had seen.
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Barbatos invited you to dinner at the castle. Initially, you thought Diavolo was the one who asked you through Barbatos, but when you reached the kitchen, you noticed him making your favorite dishes from scratch.
You watched him gracefully move around around the kitchen, effortlessly preparing the ingredients and cooking with precision.
As he cooked, Barbatos engaged in light conversation, asking about your day, if the brothers did anything unusual today, and if you had anything planned for the upcoming days. He didn't give hints about his plan until he was almost done cooking. 
Barbatos' questions changed from casual inquiries to questions about your future plans, your goals, aspirations, and what you hoped to achieve. You were confused about why he was curious about your future but decided to shrug it off. However, the conversation left you very curious.
"I love you, (y/n)." He casually said as he passed by you, and just as casually, you responded to him. "I love you too." Not that you realized it then, but Barbatos had a victorious smile on his lips, which he hid from you. 
With the meal ready, Barbatos led you to a table with candles and flowers for a candlelight dinner. Through dinner, he continued the casual conversation until the end. When you began to eat dessert, Barbatos watched you with a smile warmer than his usual one. 
His question had no frills, no long speech, and got straight to the point. "(Y/n), since you love me as well, would you do me the honor of becoming my significant other?" 
With a warm smile, Barbatos presented you with a small, beautifully wrapped box containing the ring. You stared at him blankly with the dessert fork still in your mouth. Then, it dawned on Barbatos that he had confessed his feelings for you, and you confessed in return. He watched you with an amused smirk, enjoying the reel of expressions sweeping across your face.
"I shall take that as an affirmation." Without waiting for you to say yes, he slid the ring on your finger. But to add a cherry on top, he rubbed his thumb across the corner of your lip, wiping some icing. Bringing his thumb to his lips, he licked it off and smirked at you. "Scrumptuous." 
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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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robot-horde · 9 months
Text
Best Job Ever
Mirage x GN!Reader (NSFW & SFW)
First smut fic lets gooooo. I’ve got it bad for this guy and watching the movie again only made it worse oh my goddd. The first half is a little suggestive, but SFW and can stand alone, so I put a dash line break between them in case you only wanted to read one part or the other. Reader is gender neutral, no pronouns mentioned, and no specific genitalia. There’s so much dialogue in this thing and cheesy humor, so I hope you both smile and enjoy the horny.
Summary: You work at a car wash and a shakeup in routine with an odd regular leads to questions answered, awkward official introductions, and a night filled with kisses.
Warnings/Content: Swearing, creampie, size difference, mention of sexual harassment (let me know if I should add anything else)
Word Count: 5.1k
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Washing cars wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had, but man it was exhausting and summers were rough having to wear the uniform polo and pants. Hopefully you had another month or two before you had to deal with the heat. At this point in the year, rain was the worst you had to deal with, but you managed. There wasn’t a cloud in sight today though, and customers started coming in. You rolled your eyes as you saw one of your regulars pull onto the lot.
It was a beat up Porsche put together with mismatched parts in primary colors and silver. When it came in the first time one of your coworkers had mentioned its appearance, prompting you to chime in saying you thought it was ‘cute’.
After working on it though, you no longer found the car to be cute. It always gave you weird vibes, because it looked a little different each time you worked on it. Who does that? Bring what seems like an in progress car in for washes,
Every.
Single.
Week.
And you were always the one who had to do it. The guy who owned it specifically requests you. As talkative and flirty as he was, you never got his name. He usually wore one of those color blocked windbreakers and diamond stud earrings. You had to admit, he was pretty handsome, but his movements were clumsy and awkward. You went back and forth on whether you found his demeanor off putting, or endearing. Usually it was the latter.
One day while making polite small talk, the way you do in customer service, you asked him, “So, any particular reason you’re requesting me,” you paused for dramatic effect, “again?”
He was leaning on his elbow against the counter, smiling contently at you while you spoke.
“Is it wrong for me to want the best?” he replied.
“I guess not,” you sighed before turning to get to work on the car.
At this point everyone knew you had a routine, so they stopped interacting with the guy entirely. They knew he’d just ask for you anyway. So you walked up to the car and got in, picking up keys and cash for the service he always left on the driver's seat. One of his quirks was he insisted you didn’t need to hand things back and forth. It wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, so you complied. After you were done, you’d put the keys right back where he’d left them.
“This won’t take too long,” you commented, just to avoid awkward silence.
“Hey, no worries. Take your time,” he said smoothly. You could feel him checking you out as you walked away so you glanced back, catching him quickly averting his gaze. At least he was trying to be a little subtle.
You breezed through your process with no problems, but man, you could have sworn you saw the car mirror move when you bent down to pick up a rag. You’ve gotta be less paranoid. You knew you were just being dramatic.
That was until one day you watched the Porsche pull off the lot without anyone inside. You tried not to think about it, but you know you saw it. You couldn’t have not seen it. There’s no way this could be some sort of self-driving high-tech batmobile. And where was the dude? He obviously wasn’t left behind at the car wash. So where did he go?
Next week rolled around and you tried your hardest to keep the routine the same. You stared at the guy a little harder and scrutinized every move and comment he made intensely, but there wasn’t anything more unusual about him than normal.
While you worked, you kept thinking to yourself, what if I just asked?, but you shook your head, no that’s too weird. I can’t just ask the guy what’s up. What if you were being ridiculous? You decided you weren’t doing that. You weren’t gonna talk to the guy.
But the car?
While drying the Porsche, you leaned over the hood. The movement put your face closer to it than usual, but it didn’t look out of the ordinary, so your little conversation would go unnoticed if you did end up being wrong and were actually just whispering to metal. You spoke with a hushed intensity that nobody but your target would hear.
“I don’t know what the fuck is up with you, but I know it’s something, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me in on your little prank so I can stop thinking about it. Ok? We good?”
You could’ve sworn you felt the engine rumble, but it was so fast you weren’t sure. You stood back up and sighed, giving the hood a half hearted hit, “Good talk I guess.”
You were done and had to give the car back, but you were so agitated, you let one part of your routine slip.
“Here,” you said, tossing the keys to the man.
His eyes went wide as he reached out to grab them from falling, but you watched them phase right through his hands. You both looked down at the keys, and then slowly up at each other.
“Uh, this was-” he began stumbling through words before going quiet and staring at you like a guilty kid caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar, “It’s fine you can keep ‘em!” he swiftly sputtered out before the car door aggressively opened without being touched, and he half got into, half ghosted through the driver's seat before the door slammed shut and the car sped off, tires squeaking.
You were left looking down at the set of keys still sitting on the pavement, while all your coworkers stared at you.
“What in the actual hell just happened?” You whispered.
The rest of the day went by in a haze. You tried your best to explain what happened to your coworkers, leaving out the oddest parts and coming up with flimsy excuses that satisfied them enough to leave you alone. The sun was setting and soon you were the only one there closing up shop for the day. Locking the doors behind you, you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking. To your surprise, and mild horror, you watched as that familiar Porsche turned the corner and slowly pulled up towards you.
You froze in place and gawked as the car came closer, moving like it was trying not to scare a frightened rabbit away. It stopped a few feet from you before the driver’s door swung open to reveal an empty interior.
You took in a deep breath and huffed. You weren’t going to accept a silent invitation, so you stubbornly waited to see what would happen next. It felt like at least two minutes passed with nothing but silence.
“You gonna get in or what?” you suddenly heard a familiar voice inquire, “‘Cus it’s getting cold and I ain’t waiting around all night,” the car seemed to speak.
You hesitated for a moment before getting into the car, softly trembling in fear and excitement. This might be the dumbest decision I’ve ever made, but I have to know. You thought as the door gently shut behind you. You moved to buckle your seatbelt, but it strapped you in before you had the chance, startling you into lifting your shoulders.
“Jesus, did you really have to do that?” you asked. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.” You weren’t sure where to direct your question until you saw the radio light up.
“Oh? Next time?’ the voice said smugly, “Somebody’s eager.”
“Yeah, eager to figure this shit out,” you rolled your eyes.
“Alright, alright, easy there Nancy Drew,” he said as you pulled out onto the street.
“So, you’re a possessed car or something, and the guy’s your ghost-demon thing?” you asked while crossing your arms, “Like some Ghost Rider situation?” You weren’t sure where you were supposed to put your hands in a self-driving monster car.
“Ha! Not gonna lie, that would be pretty cool, but no.”
“Ok, well this can’t be like top secret government technology. Right?” you paused, “Unless you stole it?” you quietly added, watching with suspicion as the steering wheel moved.
“Nah, nah,” he responded, “Good guesses though! Very creative.”
You realized you had been chewing on the inside of your mouth as you anxiously conversed with him, so you willed yourself to release some of the tension in your body.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m an alien from outer space or whatever you wanna call it.”
“They have cars in space?” you asked, mostly serious.
“They do when you’re a living robot,” he responded. You could almost hear the smile in his voice, “I don’t look like this all the time though. Usually I’m much more handsome.”
“So, the guy-”
“Yeah, ‘the guy’ is my holoform,” he said, as though you were supposed to know what  that meant, “Pretty great right? Picked it myself. But, like, it’s not real.”
You thought for a second before asking, “So you’re the car?”
“No. I mean, yes. Like it’s me physically, but I can be pretty much whatever, so the car part isn’t that important. It’s all me though.”
You gave the radio a quizzical look, as though that’s where he could see you from. His response made you believe maybe he could.
“Listen, I’ll just show you when we get to the garage. Ok?” It felt less like a question and more like a warning.
You started thinking about the logistics of his existence. I guess it makes sense for a car-thing to live in a garage. And sure, he must have to go to a car wash to get clean. It’s not like he’d fit in a shower. You smiled at the image of a car sitting in a bathtub. It’s still odd that he-
“Oh my GOD!” you shouted, coming to an uncomfortable realization, “I’ve been rubbing up on you for WEEKS! And you ASKED FOR ME BY NAME,” you winced.
“Now wait a second,” he started frantically talking, “You called me cute that first time I came in, ‘cus I was bored as hell having nothing to do all day, and I just-” he paused, “I don’t know. You look good or whatever, and-” he stopped, “Hold on.”
You pulled up to a garage door and it closed behind you. Once out of the car you stepped back to see the vehicle in its entirety. What are you supposed to talk to now?
Almost immediately the car began to shift and you watched in awe while sections of the vehicle began moving, pulling apart and coming back together in new shapes. It was over too soon to satisfy your curiosity, but the thought was pushed aside when a shining metallic face with bright, blue eyes smiled down at you before he continued talking as though nothing had happened, finally finishing his thought.
“So yeah, there’s that, but also listening to you hum to yourself while you work is very entertaining. You should do it more.” He gave a quick nod.
You didn’t know how long your mouth had been open, but you shook your head and closed it, blinking hard a few times to straighten your thoughts out. I guess that answers your question about where to look when you talk.
“This kinda makes it worse ya know?” you said, crossing your arms for a sense of comfort in the presence of this giant alien, but also because you were genuinely a bit frustrated with him.
“What worse?” He raised a brow.
“Don’t act stupid. You had me touching you for months,” you groaned, “I was just sitting in the car, in you, so you were touching my ass!” you narrowed your eyes before pointing up at him, “you get off on that don’t you?”
He paused, “I’m not sure you wanna know the answer to that.”
You scoffed, “So now I’m stuck in a garage with some alien who’s a- a - what?” you stuttered searching for an insult, “A human fucker?”
“Hey, I haven’t earned that title yet,” he said lightly, sitting down on the ground as best as he could to be closer to eye level with you.
“Yet? This could be considered sexual harassment you know.”
“Wouldn’t it only count if it’s unwanted?” he asked with a sly grin.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you spat back.
He put his hands up in mock defense, “I’m just sayin’, that look on your face makes me suspicious you’re havin’ a little more fun with this than you’d like to admit,” he shrugged and put his hands down, “But I’ll stop if you want me to. I’ll even apologize, no problem,” he said, giving a genuine smile.
You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you even wanted to say anything. How many people end up with a creature like this hitting on them? You had been quiet a little too long and noticed he looked very satisfied with himself. Should you let him-
Change the subject change the subject change-
“What’s your name?” you blurted out, and he tilted his head.
“Mirage,” he said in a tone that seemed like he was trying way too hard to sound sexy.
“What kind of name is that?” You asked with a furrowed brow while moving to sit on a high bench in the garage.
“What kind of-” he scoffed, “I’ll impress you with it sometime,” he said, subtly leaning in your direction.
What is that even supposed to mean?
You studied the intricacies of his face while considering what to say next, and found yourself blushing when you made eye contact and quickly looked away in embarrassment.
He’s not pretty, and I shouldn’t be here, and-
“I’m impressed,” he commented, “Honestly, you’re taking this really well considering I’m your first introduction to space life outside of humanity,” he chuckled, “I am, right? You haven’t secretly encountered some little green dudes or anything?”
You couldn’t help but crack a smile at his joke, “I might just have to report you to Area 51 if you’re not careful.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, considering I don’t really like the idea of being scrapped for parts.”
“I don’t know,” you glanced up and down his mismatched form, “Looks like it wouldn’t be the first time.”
His face fell a little, but he responded with a fond tone, “Yeah, but it was for a good cause,” his signature smile was already back, “I just need a fresh coat of paint. What do you think of blue and silver? It’s kinda my thing.”
You found yourself coming to enjoy the banter between you as you spoke. He was just as talkative as he was in his holoform. And even though he felt like a stranger in this form at first, the giant creature smiling at you really was that same flamboyant guy you spoke to every week.
-------------------------
You talked for what felt like hours, but you were too distracted asking questions and making quick jokes to check the clock. After a long fit of shared laughter, you turned back to look at him and you felt your stomach drop.
Uh oh.
You know that look. It starts in the eyes, then they glance down and back up before leaning in.
He just did it. He did the glance. He wasn’t joking was he?
You were waiting for the lean in, but it didn’t happen. You stayed put. The silence was suffocating apart from your shaky breath and what sounded like the whirr of fans coming from him.
Is he overheating? Is that like the equivalent of robot blushing?
Your thoughts were exposed by your quizzical look that he returned with a smile, but he still didn’t move. This staring contest was building to something, and you didn’t know if you’d give in when it got there, but you sure as hell were too stubborn to move first. If this jerk wanted the title of ‘human fucker’ he was going to have to say it.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to cave.
“Can I-”
“Yes.”
And just like that he leaned in, lifting a hand to hover at your side. It wasn’t until you softly ran your thumb across his cheek that he let his own come to rest on your body. You felt a tension leave you as your lips met and you melted into the kiss. He was warmer than you thought he’d be. The movement of his hands, his mouth, felt so alive and pliable, something you didn’t think metal could do. It was surreal and unfamiliar, but very welcomed. He was gentle, knowing his own strength, and that softness started to fuel a warm affection in you.
He pulled back and gripped you a little harder, “Can I-” he paused, “Would you sit on my lap?”
You nodded and he lifted you up with a swift ease that scared you. He could crush you in an instant, yet he was handling you with immense care and precision. You settled onto his lap, sitting with your knees on his thighs. He took the opportunity to grab your ass, and you sat up to give him more access. It allowed you to put most of your weight on his hand instead of relying on the strength of your legs, something you were sure to appreciate tomorrow.
He was able to hold you steady and close enough to feel the thrum of your heartbeat against him. The sensation was odd, but he loved the constant reminder of your thrill for him. It only made him want you more. He sighed as you ran your hands down his neck making him tilt his head back. A sign urging you to continue. He’d felt your hands plenty of times, but not like this, never like this.
Your hands explored, touching places only human hands could reach, sending jolts through his body and driving him wild. When you leaned down to place a trail of wet kisses up his neck, he let out a low moan, giving up any suave restraint left in him.
He put a finger under your chin, lifting it to kiss you once again. This time more urgent, more sure. You let out a small moan at the intensity of it, prompting Mirage to grin through the kiss. You stopped but didn’t pull away.
“Don’t let it get to your ego,” you mumbled with affection.
“I don’t think that’s advice I can follow sweetheart,” he gave you a languid kiss before continuing, “At least not while you’re on top of me,” he whispered, “Or under me.”
“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“Mmm, gladly,” he shifted under you causing you to grab his arm to steady yourself.
“Wait, really?” you asked, trying and failing to hide your excitement.
“What, you don’t want the title of ‘robo-fucker’?” he chuckled.
“Shut up,” you smiled, shoving his chest, “I just wasn’t sure if-” you trailed off.
“If?” he echoed.
He was hoping you’d finish your sentence, but you didn’t want to give him another victory. So you slid off his lap while he moved to stop you.
“Hey, hey, hey I was just messing with ya!”
You knew it, but you raised a brow anyway when you looked up at him.
“We’re compatible enough,” he answered your unspoken question, “I mean, come on, our chemistry is through the roof.” He winked at you.
God he was so cheesy and you loved it. His carefree attitude was contagious, pushing out your doubts and replacing them with laughter.
“We may not have been made for eachother, but I think we can manage.”
“Well then, show me how to manage.”
He scooped you back up into his lap and tugged on the bottom of your shirt.
“Gotta start by leveling the playing field,” he said while helping you pull your clothes off piece by piece. When he went to remove your underwear, you grabbed his hand to stop him, “Not yet?” he asked.
You hesitated, but seeing the affectionate concern in his glowing eyes gave you the reassurance you needed, “Well, I guess it’s only fair.” You grinned while taking them off yourself and throwing them to the side.
“Exactly. Now we’re even,” he gazed at you through hooded eyes. You were straddling his waist now watching him run his hands up your thighs. When he reached your hip, he left one hand there while the other slowly ran up and down your back, letting out a low  hum to himself, “I like this,” he said, looking at the way your flesh moved under his grip.
“I’m sure you do.” You grinned.
“No, no. Like, well, I don’t know,” he kept ghosting his fingers up and down your back while he thought, “The closeness, I guess. You feel so different.”
You had been absentmindedly imitating his movement, running your hand back and forth over his arm. You looked up into his eyes, “Are we close enough now?” you asked.
“No,” he fondly whispered in response.
“No,” you echoed, leaning in for a soft kiss.
He moved his hands so he could lift your body up towards his face, supporting your weight and letting you lean back, “You think maybe I could-”
You interrupted him while you maneuvered your legs over his shoulders. He looked into your eyes, eager for permission.
“You can just assume the answer is yes from now on, unless I tell you otherwise. Ok?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he replied with a satisfied smile before opening his mouth and giving your sex a slow lick.
His tongue was smooth like silicone and held the same low warmth the rest of his body did. He was sloppy at first, but soon figured out what rhythm brought sounds tumbling from your lips. You held two of his fingers that were wrapped around your waist, your grip tightening as your breathing became heavier. You heard a quiet hiss underneath you prompting you to glance down. You did a double take.
“Woah,” you whispered, distracted by what you saw between his legs.
“Hm?” He questioned, lazily looking up from his task.
You blushed, mildly embarrassed, “Is that your-”
“Spike?” He finished your sentence.
“Okay, yeah…” you trailed off before lifting one of your feet up and using it to gently push his face back, “Mind if I reciprocate?”
He lowered you to the ground, helping you steady yourself before he leaned back against the wall, spreading his legs wider to accommodate your body. Watching him so freely open up for you brought a small smile to your face as you knelt down.
You let out a soft hum after noticing a slit beneath his spike. It was a lighter gray in color with glowing blue markings.
Mirage raised a brow looking down at your confusion before the realization hit.
“Ohhh, that’s right. You guys don’t really have both, do you?”
You shook your head in response, “I’m assuming that also has a name I’m unfamiliar with?” you inquired.
He nodded his head, “Yeah, valve.”
“Hm,” you hummed in response, “and I can touch both?”
“Please do,” he crooned.
You ran your hand up his leg before letting it rest at the base of his spike. It felt like it was made of a similar smooth silicone material to his tongue, a translucent pale blue covering a harder, dark gray core. You were fascinated by the stripe of small, glowing blue dots running up the sides of it. Every part of him seemed to reflect his endearing flair for the dramatic. It was really, very pretty in a way.
You wrapped your hand around the base, drawing a moan from Mirage. There was about a two inch gap left between your thumb and middle finger, so you’d have to use two hands to encompass it fully. You gave a long lick to the underside, reaching the tip and giving it a wet kiss. There was absolutely no way much of it was going to fit in your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind, giving little sounds of encouragement as you tried your best and used your hands to stroke the rest.
You pulled back, one hand giving lazy strokes to his spike while the other trailed down to his valve. You began exploring with tentative touches. Feeling how slick it was, you slowly slipped a finger inside, then two.
Mirage clenched his fist, “Primus, yes,” he sighed.
You kept going until you had four fingers slowly pumping in and out of him. Hearing him let out a long vent of air, you looked up to see his mouth open and eyes half closed. He reached out, placing a hand behind your head. He didn’t use any pressure to guide you, but you got the hint, leaning down to put your mouth on the tip of his spike.
“Fuck,” Mirage hissed, tilting his head back.
You started going faster, his hand resting against the back of your head, following its movement.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, I-” He stuttered, trying to give you a warning a little too late.
You felt him shutter and contract around your fingers, before a liquid that tasted like licking batteries filled your mouth causing you to jerk back and spit. More hit your face and ran down your chest and his stomach.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” He arched forward, eyes wide, with his hands hovering by you in  flustered movements.
You froze for a moment before letting out a laugh. Soon you couldn’t stop your giggling. His look of surprise faded as he joined your laughter. He found a clean rag on a table and handed it to you.
“Thanks,” you said, wiping the pink liquid from your face and chest.
You went to clean his stomach, but paused seeing he was still hard. You glanced up at him.
“Wanna go again?” you asked.
He nodded his head eagerly, before pulling you up against his chest. He nuzzled into your neck the best he could and you kissed his cheek. You found yourself grinding against the top of his leg as you kissed. You moved to put your legs on either side of him, hovering above before reaching down to swipe some pink left on him and using it as lube, guiding your fingers inside yourself. You noticed him staring with wide eyes.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing, nothing, just,” he shook his head, “That was kinda hot.”
“Good,” you laughed, “Are you ok with me on top?”
“Oh,” he tilted his head, “You really want to try?”
“Yeah, I mean, none of my toys are quite that big, but I want to try.”
He smiled, “Whatever you want, I’m happy just being along for the ride,” he paused, “No pun intended.”
You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes as he moved his hands to hold your hips. You looked up and he gave a little nod, prompting you to move your hand to his spike, guiding it to your entrance. The tip slipped in smoothly, but you began to feel a stretch and paused. Grasping his shoulders you took a deep breath, letting it out gradually as you slowly sunk down on him. He was close to bottoming out, so you spent time grinding against him until you eventually felt the metal of his hips against yours.
You let out a shuttered breath and he tilted to press his forehead against yours. You kept grinding slowly, and once you were ready, you lifted up and Mirage groaned. The reserved energy present in his self restraint was building as you sank down slowly, repeating the motions and savoring his moans. He bucked his hips once and you gasped.
“Please, please, please,” he begged in a whisper, his control failing.
“Ok,” you softly affirmed before you felt his hands pull you down onto him and his hips thrust up to meet yours.
His head rolled to the side as he groaned and you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face against him. Each thrust had you gasping and letting out moans growing in intensity. He abandoned his grip on your hips and embraced you with both arms. There was no way you could be any physically closer, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. His embrace was desperate and his pace was brutal. You couldn’t take it anymore. You called his name, a series of gasping moans filled the room as you came.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “Yes, baby, yes,” he praised, fucking you through your orgasm until you heard a sharp ‘ah’ and he stilled inside you, filling you with cum before moving with short, shallow thrusts until your heavy breathing slowed and his embrace softened.
Your head rested on his chest while his arms were lazily draped around you. Neither of you moved for a while, simply enjoying the afterglow. Eventually you shifted off of him, cum coating the inside of your thighs and the floor. He wouldn’t let a hand leave your body until you had walked too far for him to follow, picking up the rag and cleaning yourself off. He smiled sweetly as you moved to sit with him again.
“So, am I allowed back at the car wash?” he teased while moving his arm to make space for you to snuggle up against him.
“Fuck no!” you exclaimed, to his surprise and confusion, “No, I think I’d rather come here and give you the VIP treatment instead.”
“Sounds fancy,”
“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, “So on a scale from 1-10 how would you rate your service today?” you nudged his side, giggling.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I might need some more data.” He raised and lowered his brows and you smiled.
“So…” you trailed off and he patiently waited for you to continue, “No joking, you’d actually like, want to do this again?”
“Hell yeah! Dude, I’ve been into you for like, forever. You’re the one playing catch up here.” He pointed at you, “We can hang out, or get down, or whatever.”
Your eyes lit up, “For serious?” you asked.
“100% for serious,” he said, pulling you a little closer.
Working at a car wash just went from being ‘not the worst’ job to being ‘the absolute best’ job you’ve ever had and you were hopeful that luck would spill into the future. You closed your eyes and smiled at the thought. It’s hard to imagine what exactly comes next, but with him by your side you knew you’d face it with joy.
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inuyashaluver · 4 months
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Love ur fics. Could you please do a fic with Lia Walti where y/n is a rockstar that is in their wag era? They're always coming to matches when they're not on tour & when they are, they'll still be caught watching them. Thanks 4 ur time.
ultimate wag - lia wälti
lia wälti x reader
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description: in which you and your girlfriend are dedicated wags and groupies
warnings: suggestive, looonnggg
a/n: thank you for the love and request!! hope you enjoy ❤️
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you and your girlfriend, lia were funnily introduced through your friend leah. you were quite popular in the music industry, leah had known you all her and your life, being childhood friends through the thick and thin. you had some time off and leah invited you to one of her games where you met your future girlfriend.
the game had finished, leah making you sit in the friends and family section with her (your) mum. leah bounds over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “you’re here!” she exclaims, holding you tightly to her chest, “i’m here!” you match her energy with a bright smile. “hey, i want you to meet someone” she quickly looks around, perking up and running over to one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen - leah’s told you all about the beautiful swiss in her team, she wasn’t lying about her beauty, you were nervous.
leah drags the girl by the arm to you, shoving her lightly into you, you quickly put your hands out to catch the girl with a giggle. “hi” you breathe out, she smiles at you sheepishly, “hi”. leah looks between the two of you with a smirk. leah knew you’d like her, she subtly moves to chat with her mum beside you.
“lia” she sticks her hand out to you, you gently take her hand in yours, “(y/n)” you shake hands with mutual shy smiles. both of you engage in small talk, feeling so familiar. “i love your music, by the way” she offers with a charming smile, you could’ve melted to the floor then and there. “i love your football skills, by the way” you say cheekily. she gives you a bright laugh, quickly grabbing your arm and letting go, you can’t help but miss the contact.
“hey, did you want to go for a coffee or something? i’d like to get to know you more if you’re okay with it” she looks down at the floor, preparing for rejection but instead felt a hand wrap around hers, looking up to see your bright grin. “i’d really love that, lia” you give her hand a gentle squeeze, and she looks down at them with a smile.
you wait for her outside of the change rooms with a shy smile, you couldn’t stand still. waiting for this beautiful girl was more daunting than performing live at a packed out stadium. she made you so nervous, she felt exactly the same.
she comes out dressed comfortably, matching your laid back style for the game. she rushes towards you with a bright smile, “ready to go?” you nod at her with a grin. you both go to a small café in london, talking about yourselves, random topics, your work and just realising how much you had in common. as the time progresses, dates turn into a relationship, you and lia becoming more serious and moving in together.
in present days, you had been dating for three years, you and lia still love sick puppies - leah forever claiming that she was the reason for it, the both of you couldn’t deny that.
when you and lia started becoming more serious, you would always go to her games, clad in her jersey and cheering for her loudly. every time she saw you in those stands, her heart would clench, she knew you were incredibly busy but you always made the time for her, a promise you gave to her when you started dating.
lia quickly did her rounds of photos and signatures before bounding over to you with a bright smile. she doesn’t say anything, but pulls you into a loving kiss, mouths synchronising perfectly with one another. she pulls away from you, placing a quick kiss on your nose before finally looking at you. “hi, baby” you breathe out, attempting to catch your breath. “hey, beautiful” she grins at you cheekily and you can’t help but give her a light shove on her shoulder.
“you played so well, my love” you say proudly, grabbing her hands and swinging them lightly. she shakes her head at you, “well, my wag is here” she shrugs, “i’ve got to impress her, you know?” she squeezes your hand, “well, your wag is certainly impressed” you smirk at her, her eyes widened with fake surprise, “you know my wag?” you shove her again, “not funny” you scowl, quickly disappearing when your girlfriend peppers your cheek with kisses, both of you in giggles.
“i’ll get changed and we can go home?” she questions, quirking her brow at your confused expression. “oh you’re talking to me?” you pause, “are you trying to crack onto me, wälti, when you have a wag?” you exclaim, gasping and covering your mouth with your hand. she looks at you, mouth agape and fighting a grin, “you’re pretty hot..so” she shrugs and you gasp again, this time, lia moves to place another chaste kiss on your lips. she pulls away with an amused grin, “i only have one wag and i just kissed her and love her very much” you grin at her shyly, pushing her to the direction of the change room when she laughs at your shyness.
you were currently on tour, selling out massive venues and crowds all over the world. no matter what city you were in, you made sure that you watched your girlfriend’s games, texting her words of praise and encouragement for her performance. your team often made fun of you for being such a proud wag, you always wore your “wälti” jersey to bed, watched the games everywhere you go, even if it was between a show - you had your phone out, looking at the score and watching intently.
many of them sent pictures to lia, showing you in your dolled up performance outfits crouching on the ground, phone in hand with the arsenal team splayed on the screen. every time she received them, she’d let out a proud grin, adding them to a folder labelled “my girl on tour”. you made sure to call her every night, talking about your days and giving each other the run downs of what was happening in your life, you’d gone around the world and you were finally able to come home, you and lia were incredibly excited to see each other.
the first night you got back to the uk, you had a show, inviting the entire arsenal team to come and have some fun, they had a game two days later that you were very excited about. you give them backstage passes, as well as them having a designated area that they could enjoy themselves in.
as soon as lia and the girls got there, she immediately went backstage to find you, she hadn't seen you in person for 8 months. she knocks on your dressing room door, “come in” you say tiredly, lia frowns a little at that, opening the door slightly and peeking her head in, when you see your girlfriend, you immediately perk up and pull her inside, jumping on her and giving her a tight hug.
she laughs brightly as she holds onto your thighs, hoisting you up on her waist. “hi, baby” she coos, rubbing comforting shapes on your back. you clutch into her tightly, “lia baby” you say tearfully, moving to cup her head between your hands. you both look at each other adoringly, taking in each other’s appearances. “aw, baby, don’t cry” she coos, wiping your tears and moving to sit on the small couch in your dressing room, you now sitting on her lap.
“i missed you” you pout at her, she smiles at you lovingly, “i missed you too, my love” she gives you a playful pinch to your cheek. you move quickly to place a kiss on her lips, she quickly deepens it, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you down to her. she kisses you passionately, gripping onto your hip with one hand and keeping the other on your neck, you place your own hands through her hair, lightly scratching her scalp with your nails. you both whine into each other’s mouths, it had been so long since you’d seen each other, feeling like years had gone by.
she goes to further deepen the kiss until a knock sounds on your door. you pull away from her reluctantly, she moves to places kisses on your neck, “w-who is it?” you say shakily, “only me” you hear your childhood friend on the other side, she quickly opens the door and you go to move off your girlfriend, but she holds you incredibly tight, you couldn’t move.
“well, well, well, you couldn’t wait till you got home, huh?” leah teases, holding her arms out to you, lia lets you go with a glare at leah when you hug her tightly. “i knew her first, wälti, back off” leah scowls right back, cradling you to her chest. “well i date her, williamson, who’s really winning?” lia challenges, you shake your head at both of them amusingly, they had no malice in their words, they were just teasing each other so you let them do it.
lia stands up now, grabbing your arm and pulling you to her chest, she was holding you so tightly, “i need to breathe, love” you tease, she adjusted her grip slightly. “i actually came in here to tell you that you’re on in 10” she checks the watch resting on her wrist, your eyes widened, you weren’t even dressed. “shit! get out!” you push leah out of the door and she laughs, you turn towards your girlfriend expectantly, “you too, off you go” she pouts, “baby” you shake your head, grabbing her and pushing her out of the door, “nope, go have fun” you were about to close the door but she puts her hand on it,
“well, i was about to!” she exclaims, smirking at your red face, “bye, baby!” you sing out, shutting the door in her face, you hear your phone ping:
message from: baby ❤️
you’re lucky you’re cute.
you smile at the message and lock your phone, getting yourself quickly dressed and to your position for the opening. all the arsenal girls were teasing lia, jumping around excitedly to see you, all of them big fans.
your opening number plays, everyone screaming loudly, lia was probably the loudest. you come out and lia nearly drops to the floor, there you were, dressed in your girlfriend’s jersey. the girls immediately start teasing lia harder, all she can do is stare at you. everyone knew the two of you were together, she’s seen you in this jersey thousands of times, but this made her heart beat out of her chest.
“london!” you cheer, the crowd erupts when you finish your first song. “thank you all for coming out tonight, i’m so glad to see you all” you take a moment to look around the packed stadium, feeling so small amongst the crowd and the cheers.
“before i continue, i just want to thank not only you guys for coming along but my favourite team ever, the arsenal women’s team!” the girls jump around, cheering for you loudly, “but my biggest thank you has to go to my lovely, beautiful girlfriend, lia” cheers louder than ever ensure as you point towards the girl’s section, hard to miss as they were on the ground floor where you could see them.
lia looks at you tearfully, her heart swelling at your mention. she holds her hand up in a heart motion and you can’t help but return it, laughing brightly into the microphone. “alright, now let’s have some fun” music sounds through the speakers and you continue the concert, the girls having fun, dancing and singing with each other. lia knew every word, her eyes not leaving you for even a second. as soon as the show was over, she goes to find you.
you yelp when your girlfriend hoists you up on her waist again, smiling down at her brightly. she grabs the back of your head to pull you into a quick kiss, “my little superstar, i’m so proud of you” she looks at you in awe, putting you on the ground in front of her, pulling you into a tight hug. you gently sway her side to side and hold her tightly, “thank you for coming” you mumble into her chest, “i wouldn’t miss it for the world” she places a quick kiss on your lips, holding you as if you were going to disappear.
two days later, the arsenal match comes swiftly around the corner. you were sat in the friends and family section, “wälti” proudly on your back as you watched the match. you watch your girlfriend proudly, cheering for her as well as the team loudly. after a successful win for arsenal, lia rushes towards you, lifting you over the barrier and onto the pitch. once you’re safely situated on the grass, she wraps you into a tight hug, pulling away to look at your smiling face.
“hi, baby” she grins, giving you a quick kiss on your lips, “hello, lovey” she smile up at her, affectionately kissing her cheek and she giggles at the contact. “you played so well, baby, i’m so proud of you” you clutch her face between your hands, smile never leaving your face. a loving smirk graces her face as she looks into your eyes, “thank you for coming” she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you close and hiding her face into your neck. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world” you say, comfortingly rubbing small circles on her back.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
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liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others
liawaelti: cutest wag ever, welcome home, my love @/yourname
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yourname: cutest groupie ever, love you, baby
↳ liawaelti: proud groupie, and i love you more
↳ yourname: proud wag, i love YOU MORE
↳ liawaelti: literally impossible
leahwillamsonn: boooo we get it, you’re in love!
↳ liawaelti: you did this.
↳ yourname: you set us up, love
↳ leahwillamsonn: shut up.
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cameronspecial · 3 months
Text
Cooking With Daddy
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.7K
Summary: Cooking dinner stresses Y/N out so much, especially when she has to watch over the kids. So Drew takes it upon himself to help his wife out.
A/N: Inspired by this video.
Masterlist
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After giving birth to Tristan, Y/N feels exhausted all the time. Taking care of a newborn and a toddler is very demanding. Luckily, Y/N and Drew have each other to help each other out. Drew knows cooking dinner is one of the things that stresses Y/N out, so he decides to take it into his own hands. “Take a nap, Sweetheart. You woke up early with the kids this morning,” Drew orders, helping her back on the mattress. She shakes her head with sleepy eyes, “No. I can’t. I have to make dinner. It’s my turn.” Drew kisses her forehead. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it. Now, go to sleep,” he instructs. He pulls the blanket over her drowsy body and kisses her again once he sees she listens to his demands. As he heads toward the kitchen, Tristan’s soft cries reach his ears. The door yawns as Drew pushes his way into the baby’s room. 
“Hey, bud. What’s wrong? Do you need a new diaper?” Drew questions, picking his son up to check if it is soiled. The diaper is clean so he brings the child close to his chest. “Are you hungry?” Drew checks to see if Tristan will root his finger, but the infant doesn’t, meaning he probably isn’t hungry. Being in Drew’s arms seems to soothe the baby and this leads the father to conclude that his son just wanted some attention. 
Drew leaves the room and closes the door, heading to the kitchen. He finds Millie on the floor of the living room. The little girl is colouring in her Frozen colouring book. “Mills, do you want to help Daddy cook dinner?” Drew asks his daughter. She pops off the floor with a smile and nods. She runs over to her father, dragging her stool beside him. Drew moves his arm under Tristan’s butt and the baby curls into his father’s hold. “What should we make for dinner?” Millie takes a second to think about it. “Mac and cheese!” she announces with her arms thrown in the air. He chuckles at her excitement and goes to get the ingredients he needs for the pasta dish. He instructs Millie to cut the cheese with the butter knife while he gets to work with boiling the pasta. It would be easier to do the task if he put Tristan down, but the babe would cry every time he tried to put him in the crib.  
The pasta is boiling and Drew goes to check on Millie. He sees the mix-match sizes of cheese cubes and pride floods him. She is becoming such an independent child. “You are working so hard, Millie. Good job,” he praises, kissing her cheek. She beams up at her father and gets back to focusing on her work. 
———
About twenty minutes later, Y/N wakes up in a dark bedroom. She sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes. Her stomach starts to grumble, so she goes to check on Drew’s progress with dinner. Finding her little family cooking dinner together makes her heart bloom with love. “There you go. Very good mixing skills, Mills. Just a little bit slower so you don’t get hurt with what splashes out,” Drew advises. One arm holds up Tristan and the other one is around Millie’s shoulders, helping her stir. Y/N spots the cheese and pasta and can piece together what they are making. She rounds the corner, placing a kiss on her children’s head before resting her chin on Drew’s shoulder, “This looks very good. Is it almost ready?” Drew turns his head to kiss her cheek. “Almost, Sweetheart. Look at all of Millie’s hard work,” he informs. Millie grins up at her mother, “Mommy, try some!” He scoops some up onto the spatula and blows on it to cool it down. 
He brings it to her mouth, letting her take a bite. Y/N hmms in satisfaction. “This is very good, My Love. You did such a good job. Let me set the table and we can eat,” Y/N acclaims, heading over to the pantry to get the plates out. Being a parent can be hard, but when she does it with Drew, it’s all worth it. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl
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randomshyperson · 2 months
Text
R U Mine? - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: A game of cat and mouse begins between an Avenger and a criminal. But perhaps there are no winners, as they both fall.
Warnings: mentions of typical canon violence, hints of abusive past and unhealthy work dynamics, some superhero routine lore, more shapeshifter power mentions, mutual pining, forbidden relationship, some teasing, (first) kiss and then a lot of kisses and steamy make out, some fluff and comedy. | Words: 6.965K
A/N-> How many references to Killing Eve can one put in a story. And also, references to the Witch's Road comics. This here is the extra chapter about their first kiss, enjoy reading.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-&-
Before.
"I know what you're doing."
Three weeks prior, Natasha's sentence would have made her jump with fright. Perhaps she would have tried to hide all those files and lie and lie again, until she could convince herself the whole thing was about the job.
But today? Wanda was tired. She had spent the last few hours stumbling into dead ends, no progress on whatever she was trying to do with all that vague information Shield had on you.
So she lifted her face to the redhead who appeared in her room late at night, two cups of coffee in hand, and chuckled weakly at the statement. It was obvious that the drink was an invitation - perhaps even a sign of 'hey, I'm not trying to start a fight. I want to help,' and Wanda accepted without hesitation.
"It's not like I'm doing a good job of keeping it a secret." She retorts to Nat, who smiles before taking the empty space on the bed. Practically all the Shield files - now labeled Avengers - about you are scattered on the mattress. It's a mess, and to Nat, it makes sense that Wanda hasn't made much progress.
"To be fair, for a first-time Investigation, I think you're doing all right." Says the widow after a sip of her coffee. "You covered your tracks and even used an official justification for researching her. Your mistake was involving Vision."
Wanda sighs. "Let me guess, he talks under pressure?"
Nat chuckles, nodding. Wanda rubs a tension point on her forehead. Taking advantage of this, Natasha gestures to one of the files. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do, Maximoff. But this doesn't seem very healthy."
Wanda gives a sad smile, and Nat expects her to defend herself. But instead, the smaller girl sighs. "I know." She murmurs sincerely, forcing a faint smile at the widow. "But I need this, Nat. It's the first time in months that I've managed to think about anything other than Pietro. And I know it doesn't look healthy, but it's all I've got. I'm an Avenger now. Maybe it's just time to get to work, and arrest villains or something."
Natasha frowned at her, absorbing the confession for a moment before rebutting: "Is that what you want to do with Y/N, though? Lock her up?"
Wanda swallows dryly, looking down. "Of course, Nat."
"You're a terrible liar."
The brunette sighs. "I mean it!"
"And I don't believe you." Nat insists in a good mood despite everything. "Look at all this, Wanda. You've been at it for days. Studying her. Did you even remember to eat anything in the last few hours?" Wanda snorts, gesturing to the breakfast leftovers on the dresser in the corner of the room which makes Natasha let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow, a nutritious example you are."
The witch tosses her hair back. "If you've come here to try to babysit me, please leave."
Natasha rolled her eyes and ignored the other woman's stubbornness. She put her coffee down between her crossed legs and started organizing the files.
"You're naturally perceptive and clever, Maximoff. But you lack experience and practice. You need to put together a timeline and find the gaps." The widow began, and masterfully, all the security camera photos, reports from shield agents, and unexplained crimes related to thieves with no identifiable faces began to connect and make sense. "But I must warn you, I did all this years ago. When I started at Shield, your little friend was already some sort of the goose that laid the golden eggs, or stole the gold for the saying to work."
"She's not my friend." Wanda murmured, her gaze fixed on the files so Natasha wouldn't see her blush. The widow ignored the comment and continued talking.
"My point is that I didn't get very far." Nat says with a sigh. "To be honest, it was an insult to my ego. She was just a kid back there. And she managed to flee much more experienced agents. She had endless, untraceable disguises. She doesn't need to impersonate, you know? She can create faces. It makes her almost impossible to monitor. When we met for the first time, it was she who found me." Nat says, swallowing dryly at her own memories. Wanda's eyes widen softly, listening carefully. "I never told this to anyone, but when Clint first met me, he told me that he felt something. As if he knew I wanted to escape. And when I saw Y/N, I had the same feeling."
"What did you do?" Wanda asked and Nat sighed.
"I couldn't do what Clitn did for me, Wanda, I'm sorry." Said the widow sincerely. "She attacked first. And I had to defend myself. It wasn't just protocol, it was all I'd learned to do."
Wanda frowns. "Why are you telling me all this, Nat?"
The redhead sighs. "Because it's important. It means that she doesn't trust easily, and attacks when she feels threatened. She reminds me of both of us, to be honest." Nat comments, getting a small smile from the witch. "Besides, I want you to be really careful if you do dig into this."
"I will."
"I'm serious, Wanda." Insists the redhead. "Careful not to miss a gun hidden in her dress." She remembers the last official report Wanda made, regarding her first mission, the night she simply couldn't stop thinking about, especially after your secret vision to the compound, and the witch swallows dryly. Nat doesn't mind her hesitation. "Careful in a way that you'll use your powers if necessary."
Without looking the widow in the eye, Wanda retorts between her teeth: "I get it, Nat."
"You're not going to carry this on until you look me in the eye, Maximoff. And swear it."
Wanda's stubbornness falters, and she returns her attention to the widow, looking at her seriously. Nat gives her a small smile as she adds, "It's not just Clint who cares about your safety. We all do. I'm not going to allow you to throw yourself headlong into something dangerous just to escape your grief, Wanda. Swear that you'll be very careful, and you'll walk away if it gets too dangerous."
Wanda is surprised by the tenderness, and a little embarrassed. It takes a moment but she finally nods. "I swear." She says before adding. "I want to help Y/N. Like Clint helped you. Not lock her up, like I said before."
Natasha chuckles. "I know, kid. I know."
With the Black Widow’s blessing, she kept digging those files. And Nat didn't lie, you're untraceable. Every time you meet, it's clear that you've let yourself be found. Even with handcuffs on your wrist, you keep smiling as if it was all part of the plan. Judging by the way you always escape from prisons, later going public that some confidential information for the police was stolen, this is easily confirmed.
The Avengers are getting used to the strange persecution, very much because each of them has their secrets. And just like his protégé, Steve Rogers had side missions to pursue Bucky. It would be hypocritical of him to hold anything against Wanda for being after you.
And Wanda couldn't stop. Even after hundreds of dead ends and ridiculous escapes. She had to meet you, and have less than five minutes in your presence with another twelve agents and the whole Avengers present every fortnight when they manage to track you only for you to escape again. She didn't know why, but she had the impression that you looked forward to these moments as much as she did.
Like a little private game of mouse and cat, only you and her were part of.
-&-
There are a hundred things to do in the Capital of Crime.
The most complete list of gambling games imaginable, right down to a mural of targets to be captured.
All these things are at your disposal, and all you can think about is the new addition to the Avengers team.
Wanda Maximoff was born in the country that fell from the sky around the same time that Baron Strucker was playing Pinky and the Brain with your cells in a secret laboratory of the now-destroyed Hydra. A Stark bomb made her an orphan, and after bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, often expelled for getting into trouble with her twin brother, Wanda embarked on protest groups in search of civil rights until she was finally recruited into a human experimentation program that turned her into an enhanced version of herself. She was the only reason for the first time in your life that you wished you hadn't split with Strucker so soon - If you'd still been his puppy instead of the clients he got, you would have met her. You may have become friends.
"She's doing it again." Xu Xialing whispered to Layla, the two engaged in a game of Beat the Hero - a competition of colored cards that contained electronic figures detailing the abilities of real-life superheroes. It was, in a way, training for possible battles in real life, where they learned about their enemies by playing. The two of them were sitting in opposite armchairs, while you were practically lying on the sofa, drinking with a lost look on your face. According to them, fantasizing for the tenth time in a row about the Avenger you met in Italia weeks ago.
Layla giggled when she saw your expression before turning her face to Xu Xialing again. "You know, they say Maximoff has psychic powers. Maybe Y/N is under a spell."
"A love spell, that is." Mocks the Chinese woman, getting a laugh from the other.
You only came out of your trance of thoughts about Wanda with the bell from the private room you were in. Your face changed before the curtain opened, and Xu Xialing was the first to look at the security guard entering, somewhat annoyed at having her private time playing games with friends interrupted.
"Forgive me for intruding, madam. The Countess is here and requests the Sage to join her." The man said, and Xialing nodded in understanding. She turned to you, but there was no need. With a soft leap from the sofa, you got to your feet and took one of Layla's cards from her pile - you threw it on the board and helped her win the game, taking the opportunity to leave the room while the two of them discussed whether the assisted victory had been fair or not.
The Golden Daggers Club was as packed and vibrant as ever. The next round of betting for the fights was due to start soon, and there were a lot of people shouting their bets to the judges, and joining the fight cages, so you had to make some effort to follow the venue's security guard into the special area of the place - where federal agents were given even more privacy to be around.
Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine was waiting for you alone, but behind a door with six security guards guarding her. Each of them gave you a look of contempt, but you walked past them without any reaction until you were with Valentina in a room with no windows, every inch of which was covered in priceless works of art, many of them stolen throughout history, which you and Layla recovered together in the service of the Ten Rings.
"You wanted to see me, Countess?" was your greeting, softly snarky. You weren't in the best of moods, especially since Valentina had interrupted your rest.
The woman gave you a false smile from the armchair where she was sitting waiting for you. A closed file and a glass of wine lay on the corner table.
"Oh, what a surprise, after your last defeat, I thought you'd given up on Sage." She comments with a certain venom on your disguise, the same one you wore two weeks ago when you went on what she called a streak of bad luck in the Club's fighting competitions, but which Xu Xialing called a distracted lovesick puppy. You try to disguise your clumsiness by clearing your throat.
Checking that the door is closed, you return to your real appearance and Valentina gives you a small but genuine smile.
"What do you want?" you insist, and in response, she pats the file resting on the table. You sigh. "What's this?"
"Last month has been very busy, but I've finally had time to review some of your late missions reports." She begins and you hide your nervousness, knowing full well where this conversation could end. "I apologize for taking so long to check them, darling. I hope you don’t think I’m jeopardizing your learning progress."
"Stop stalling, Valentina, just tell me what the problem is." You retort grumpily but she chuckles, her fingers tracing the paper before she grabs the file.
“Normally, I trust your experience, but I've heard that you've been particularly... antsy in your last few operations. Of course, you've successfully made it out of all of them, after all, we're having this conversation, but for a master of disguise, the increased number of encounters with the Avengers attracted my curiosity. I thought I'd take a closer look at your original encounters with them, and found an interesting passage in your report on Italy two months ago."
The page is already marked and in the next moment, she begins to read;
"My exit was interrupted by the presence of a new Avenger. A woman, perhaps the same age as me. The new, improved one from Sokovia. Average height, brown hair. Green eyes. Intense. Hypnotizing."
You swallow dryly, looking down at your feet. You're grateful to have control over your own body, or Valentina would be able to watch your cheeks blush.
She continues reading. "We faced each other briefly. The girl doesn't have complete control of her abilities, it was a quick fight. I immobilized her and departed in the getaway vehicle. No disguise was compromised, no other witnesses." Valentina narrates, finally raising her eyes from the file to you. "You know what's funny, sweetheart? The Avengers submitted their own report on Sapienza, and Wanda Maximoff describes the encounter with a Shapeshifter in detail. My question is, why are you lying for someone who didn't hesitate to use her special abilities to show her team your real appearance?"
You're caught off guard. A conflict of emotions rises in your chest, from anger to disappointment. It hurts. It's confusing and suffocating, and you feel the urge to start crying. But none of these emotions floats over your expression, your nails digging into your palm are enough to keep everything well buried.
With a soft sigh, you look Valentina in the eye.
"I don't trust the CIA."
Your boss chuckles, closing the file and crossing her legs. It's not exactly her best lie, but it seems to work on her.
"If this is about the Hydra clean-up in the public sector, I can assure you that we're safe." Valentina says. "Besides, your job is to trust me, Y/N. Not the CIA, or the Ten Rings, or any of your contractors. Only me, dear child, must you trust."
You bite your tongue hard, tears almost escaping this time. 
"I just..." You try, not knowing exactly what to say. "There was a conflict, and the girl, she beat me. Effortlessly. That energy she possesses revealed my disguise immediately, I had no chance to try another one. So I made a choice, and I omitted the part that I thought would do me any harm. Isn't that what you taught me to do?"
Right answer. Valentina grins, before sighing and standing up. You don't want her to touch you, but she puts her hands on your arms and you resist the urge to pull away.
"I'm proud of you, you're getting cleverer every day. I want you to be this way, Y/N. Strong-willed, resourceful." She compliments you, her hands moving up to your cheeks. You try to smile, but Valentina squeezes your skin tighter. "That doesn't mean you will lie to me. Understand?" She asks but doesn't expect a vocal response. Your nod is more than enough for her to give you a fake smile and loosen her grip. "You're my most valuable employee. I don't want you to put yourself in vulnerable situations without a reason."
Valentina steps away, and you decide to take a chance.
"She's like me." It's more hesitant than you'd like, but it's enough to make your boss raise an eyebrow at you. Swallowing dryly, you continue. "Wanda and her brother were also Strucker's experiments. We are the same. I thought I could-"
Valentina interrupts with a spiteful chuckle that makes you cringe like a frightened child. "The same? Is that what you think?" She retorts in a mocking tone that makes you feel too ashamed to even broach the subject. Leaning her waist on the table, she looks at you. "I know you've been digging through my files on her, Y/N. I don't blame you for being curious, but by now, I imagine you know very well the conditions of the experiments Miss Maximoff was part of. How she volunteered for all that. How can you say you're the same?"
You hesitate uneasily. "I don't mind that she volunteered. War called for desperate measures. I just... I've never met any other of us. Another who survived the Baron. I've been thinking if I could just see her-"
Valentina bursts into laughter, and you fall silent, concentrating so that she can't see your red ears. "See her? Now what's that, huh? Romeo and Juliet of the supers? What an absurd idea, child!" Refutes your boss, still chuckling as she walks away to the table. She finishes her glass of wine in one long gulp, and to your surprise, throws the file in your direction. You catch the item flat against your chest. "The notes the Avengers made about you are on page 24. Read what she said about you, and draw your own conclusions about who you call an equal. I came here to confirm your mental state, and this conversation was enlightening. I'll arrange an assessment."
"Val-"
"It’s not open for discussions Y/N." She cuts you off, a car key already in hand that makes you groan to yourself impatiently. "You're not going back to work until you talk to Doctor Grand."
She leaves without saying another word and you're left alone with the file in your hands. Without hurrying, you flip to the page mentioned earlier and sigh when you find a photograph of Wanda wearing a uniform with the Avengers crest embroidered on it. Below is her statement about the mission.
You trace your fingers over the passage "An extraordinary and dangerous skill from an equally impressive fighter" but hesitate when you read the passages about how she felt scared and unsafe. About how she thought you were aiming at her. About how she felt she failed by not bringing a high-risk criminal into custody.
Your tears finally fall, staining the page before you quickly wipe them away, closing the file tightly after ripping Wanda's photo out.
It was time to wrap up loose ends and get back to your perfect record.
-&-
In the fake drawer hidden on the floor under your bed - safeguards for someone whose apartment is frequently visited by a two-faced countess - you kept some personal things. Hydra's last record of you, small souvenirs from missions, and a photograph of Wanda Maximoff.
And this morning - and any other morning really - you were supposed to ignore that drawer, leave any weapons at home, put on a presentable outfit, and meet Valentina in the lobby promptly at 10 o'clock. She would take you by car to Dr. Grant's office who would do a standard assessment of your mental state that would tell whether or not you were fit to return to work.
But instead, you took the photo of Wanda out of its hiding place and put it in your pocket. You stood up, walked through your closet, and chose the least flashy backpack you owned. Then you armed yourself with three different types of knives and two pistols in a chest holster, very similar to that of American detectives. And speaking of the police, your drawer of false documentation provided by Valentina was studied without haste until you had in your pockets the identity of a Shield agent who never existed but was meant to be a little tribute to the job you were performing today.
With your disguise ready, you left the apartment two hours before your scheduled meeting with Valentina, and you had barely boarded the ferry when she called you.
"Our appointments aren't something to be skipped, young lady." Stated the woman seriously, but you gave her a weary sigh.
"I don't wish to see Doctor Grant."
Valentina chuckled, as you handed your ticket to the clerk passing in the corridors. On the other end of the line, she then spoke;
"You're not getting away with this, Y/N. I'm not authorizing your return to work until Roland confirms to me that your mental state is stable for you to continue."
You prop your feet up on the seat, switching your cell phone to another ear. "Val, I'm not running away, I promise. I just needed a break. Give me a few days, okay? Reschedule the visit, I'll be there. I'll even be there early."
She pauses thoughtfully, you can hear her breathing. And then she sighs in defeat and you smile. "Okay. If it's any encouragement, your next service is already being prepared. It's something you've never stolen before, and I'd like it to be yours. Of course, if you prove suitable."
A few weeks ago, the temptation would have been too much and you would have turned around and gone to the appointment just to win Grant's approval and be cleared for the job. To prove not only to Valentina, but to the world, and to any other colleague, that you could complete that mission. 
But now you let out a short laugh, and that surprises Valentina enough for her to keep quiet. "Reschedule for the end of the week. I guarantee that I'll have Dr. Grant's approval and you'll have your order in no time."
The promise seems to be enough for her, and after another sigh, Valentina hangs up. You put your cell phone away and return your attention to the now-stamped train ticket to New York.
The trip didn't take long, and within a few hours, you were in the bustling city. Especially today, at the inaugural Heroes of Earth celebration event, Manhattan was almost chaotic.
With fans and journalists from all over the world filling the streets that had been closed off for a sort of open-air Comic Con, you had no trouble at all going unnoticed in the crowd. You wore a disguise, of course, but you didn't have to. A few minutes into the fair, you really did look like a tourist, with your Avengers sweatshirt, cap, and colorful glasses.
The knives in your backpack were well hidden under the amount of superhero souvenirs you got.
You were trying to choose between an Incredible Hulk smash-burger or a portion of Thor's worthy chicken when the bell announcing the photo session with the Avengers was about to start.
Your appetite disappeared, anxiety taking over your whole body at once.
It was time to move.
The queue was huge, as was to be expected. At least, most of them were there for the best-known Avengers. Thor wasn't even on Earth, which meant that the other five originals were competing with each other over who got the most autographs. The new members, like Wanda, the Falcon, or Vision, were given presentation stands but had much more free time at the event.
You tried to ignore the pang of pride when you saw that among the new members, the queue of people to see Wanda was the longest. A considerable number of children were very excited to ask her to do magic tricks.
Your strawberry milkshake - Black Widow's Special - almost fell out of your hand when you finally saw Wanda leave the curtains dividing the dressing rooms and join the autograph table.
She wasn't wearing the soft hoodie with the Avengers symbol from the photograph you sneak a peek at almost every night, nor was she wearing the pathetic disguise she wore the first time you saw her. No, somehow, she managed to look prettier. Like all her teammates, she was wearing an outfit similar to the official fighting uniform, probably designed just for the event. With a black tactical outfit covered by a red jacket, the gloves that didn't cover her fingers were probably your favorite part.
Despite her relatively unfriendly uniform, Wanda offered such lovely smiles to the people who came to greet her that you thought the milkshake made you sick, judging by the way your stomach and heart were unsettled.
When the Meet & Greets began, you had to go to the ticket booth and buy a single ticket in cash; to meet Wanda, of course.
It would take place back in the fair's improvised dressing rooms, and after waiting for almost forty minutes, you were finally guided inside. Your backpack wasn't searched, perhaps because your weapons were hidden by Ten Rings technology, a gift from Xu Xialing on your last assignment, and when it went through the X-ray at the entrance, all they detected were the countless fair toys you had acquired. And the knives hidden in your body, well, it's obvious to say that when it comes to changing aspects of your anatomy for any situation, passing a security search was quite easy.
"Miss Maximoff will be here in a minute. She had a little problem with her costume, the children who came in before you caused a little milkshake accident."
One of the organizers informed you, and you gave her a kind smile, commenting that the Black Widow special was essential, even if it might cause minor accidents. The employee chuckled before going to answer a call on her communicator that could have been your intentional flooding of one of the toilets to occupy as many of the staff as possible.
Wanda's dressing room was the most intimate environment of hers you've ever been in. It didn't have many things, of course, but for someone who only had access to government documents, it was paradise.
Curious fingers traced all the belongings you could reach, from more comfortable pieces of clothing for her to change into during the event, to different types of tea and books, until you found a music device. 
The password protection on a Stark Industries MP3 player made you laugh to yourself. "What a distrustful little witch." You murmured affectionately, stowing the item in your jacket pocket and moving over to the schedule board.
You had already read the row that marked the start of the Meets, probably described there and in all the other dressing rooms, when your gaze caught a small notebook forgotten in one of the armchairs.
You got the chance to take it in hand and smile at the sketches on the first few pages before the item was suddenly lifted and pulled out of your hand.
"Sorry, but this is private." Wanda grabbed the item out of the air, but you stood there, static like a frightened animal, unable to breathe properly under her gaze. She seemed to realize that she had been too harsh and huffed out a laugh, the notebook clutched tightly against her chest. The sound made you swallow. "I shouldn't have kept you waiting, I guess you got bored. Sorry about that. Let me put this away, and we can, um, get started."
She didn't use magic to return the book to a safe place, you didn't know that yet, but Wanda was still learning to trust her powers. And if she could help it, she usually didn't use them.
She approached you, to put the book away in a bag that you didn't have a chance to peek into, and the sudden movement made your body react in alarm. Your back hit the schedule board, and Wanda frowned, stopping in her tracks with an almost hurt look on her face.
"You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you, you know." She murmured with the tips of her ears red. "I'm just going to put my notebook away, you see." The backpack floated towards her with a tug, and Wanda hardly met your gaze after that. She tossed the bag into a corner of the room and fiddled uncomfortably with the edge of her blouse.
She was no longer wearing the outfit she'd worn before, she was wearing a comfortable set, too soft and domestic for you to be calm-minded about anything.
You forced your brain to work because you thought the whole thing was getting ridiculous.
"I'm not scared." Your voice comes out very hoarse, so you clear your throat. Wanda raises her eyes, finally, and the green irises make your cheeks warm. You don't hide it from her. "As a matter of fact, I'm not the one who usually gets scared when we meet, am I, Maximoff?"
Taking the time she needed to understand, you removed your colored glasses and cap, your face changing back to its original appearance. Wanda sighed shakily as soon as she recognized you.
"Hi, Y/N." She greeted, too sweet for you to do anything but smile shyly, forgetting for a moment exactly what you had come for. 
"Hello, Wanda." You tried to sound just as gentle, but you must have done a poor job, to blame it on your body that doesn't seem to be working properly. Wanda swallows dryly, her hands moving slowly in the air. You watch the unhurried gesture - the way her fingers draw the air, and how the items of disguise float away to the armchair, and in your hands appear handcuffs that don't prevent you from moving them, and don't hurt either. The most you feel is a tickle.
"I've come all this way, just for you to put me in chains, little witch." You try to tease her, and you think it's a victory the way Wanda tries to hide a smile, approaching with her head down until she's close enough to touch you.
Her hands should be gripping the magical handcuffs, but instead, they hold yours. Wanda sighs. 
"You can't be here." She whispers, meeting your eyes, and you think it's ridiculous that you made any plans at all. You could never do anything to harm Wanda, and that was just the truth. "Then why are you?"
Unlike her, you don't hide your smile. You shrug as if your heart wasn't thumping in your chest, and revel in playing with Wanda's buttons.
"I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to say hi." Your casual reply makes her snort impatiently.
Her hands release yours, and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda's audacity to start searching you. 
"Wow, take me on a date first, love." You joke, but despite the new color her cheeks acquire due to the joke, the fond nickname, Wanda doesn't stop. She gropes in your pockets, reaches into your jacket, and grimaces with disapproval at every illegal item she finds. The false documents, the Shield badge, the guns. The MP3 is in the front pocket and Wanda gets a little closer to reach it, enough so that you have to lick your lips trying to control the instinct to break the distance. She just looks so kissable and smells so good.
She offers you an incredulous look at the stolen item, which floats back to the table as she gropes for the other pocket. Finding the train ticket, she lets out a short laugh.
"Six hours of travel is not being in the neighborhood." She comments, raising her eyes to you. 
"What do you want me to say?" You retort with a little smile, discourteously glancing between her eyes and her lips. "That I couldn't help myself and had to get on the first train to see you again? That I can't even go back to work because I can't stop thinking about you?"
There's this thing that Wanda's eyes do. The pupils get huge, and the green darkens. And she looks at you as if you were something to be devoured in every detail as if you were worth admiring. As if you were worth any of her time.
She speaks again, so low and hoarse that you wouldn't be able to hear her if you weren't close.
"Your thoughts are loud. Are you always so hard on yourself?" 
You swallow dry, caught off guard. Your hesitation makes Wanda sigh. She looks ready to apologize when you nod.
"It doesn't matter, every time we bump into each other, you make me feel different. Better. You look at me as if you can see more. What do you see, Wanda?"
She sighs deeply, and her hands move to touch your face. It's too gentle, and affectionate in a real and true way that you never experience. Your body goes rigid, not knowing how to handle the tenderness, but Wanda doesn't catch any request for her to stop touching, so her hands continue to hold your cheeks.
"I can see your anger, just as I can see your fear. I see the thief, and the murderer, but I can also see only you. No disguises, no lies. The person you are underneath it all." She says, swallowing dryly as she lets her gaze fall to your lips. "This is the person I let get away. And the person I'd like to meet, if you'll let me."
Your chest is heavy with confusing feelings. Your traumas beep in unison, your defenses beg you to push Wanda away and flee before the rest of the Avengers decide to show up. 
But instead, you return watery eyes to Wanda and gasp softly; "Why? Why do you care?"
And Wanda tries to lie. "I think you could use a friend."
You chuckle dryly, pulling away from the touch. "Hard pass." You mutter, but Wanda doesn't let you move away entirely. She decides to risk everything.
She grabs your chin and tilts your face towards her. It's a miscalculated kiss, you both flinch and gasp at the first contact of your lips and being taken by surprise makes you lose your balance in the middle of the movement to get away from her.
You fall into the armchair, and Wanda should apologize, but she doesn't even bother. She pushes your tense shoulders and straddles your lap, this time, when her mouth meets yours, it's much hungrier and more determined.
The handcuffs disappear into thin air with the first gasp that leaves her lips, and you waste no time in grabbing her waist, roughly pulling her down and holding her tight against you as your mouths move together. It's a passionate kiss full of urgency, charged with all the tension you've built up.
Your tongue slides into her mouth without warning, more experienced than Wanda, you manage to get a whimper out in no time. She wants to shrink away from the sound, but your hands slide down to grab her ass and pin her down onto your front, and suddenly all she can do is moan.
It seems absurd that you've gone a lifetime without kissing Wanda Maximoff when you both seem molded to do this with perfection.
You don't even move apart to breathe, a battle of restless hands and hungry mouths panting against each other. Wanda begins to grind herself into your lap in search of friction and you let out a sound you didn't know you could make.
Everything is suddenly so hot that Wanda doesn't hear her surroundings. She doesn't hear the curtain or the footsteps. But she definitely hears the machine man's surprised exclamation.
"Oh, forgive me, Wanda." Vision's back is turned the second he catches a glimpse of what's happening in that armchair.
Wanda jumps away as if she's received a jolt, and you groan in displeasure at the interruption. Despite the way every cell in your body seems to be vibrating with euphoria, you manage subtle changes in your face that prevent the Synthesized from recognizing you if he decides to turn around. "I didn't mean to interrupt-"
"Vis, please leave." She demands with ragged breathing, her face bright red. Wanda looks neither at you nor at Vision.
The man clears his throat, stuttering. "Of course, Wanda, I'm so sorry." He says, but although he mentions leaving, he doesn't. Stopping just before the curtain, he risks a glance over his shoulder. "There was a forced distraction with criminal indications in the western sector, the fair has already been interrupted. The captain has asked everyone to gather for a patrol check, in case there's an attempted attack. I just wanted to warn you. It would be appropriate to send your... friend away." explains the machine, exchanging a quick glance with Wanda before leaving the dressing room.
You'd like to kiss her again, but Wanda sniffles at Vision's departure and you frown in a mixture of concern and confusion.
"That's why you're here, isn't it?" She deduces annoyed. "To try a bloody attack on a children's fair? God, I’m so stupid. You’re obviously using me to distract your partners-”
But you stood up with an impatient sigh for the anxious and nervous conclusions of an avenger who has been caught in the act.
You grab Wanda again and kiss her hard enough for her to lose her balance, and she ends up pressed against the schedule board, and then the coffee table, each kiss more desperate and heated than the last.
Your thigh presses between hers, and Wanda practically meows at the friction. You love how responsive she is to your touch, and you try to push a little further under her clothes, quickly addicted to attracting more sounds.
And you're almost to the edge of her bra when you're interrupted again.
"Jesus, Maximoff, what the hell is going on here?" Unlike Vision, Natasha Romanoff is much more serious and determined to put an end to the whole thing. And she cares little about what was happening against the table. You hide the change in your features on Wanda's shoulder, while also trying to control your own breathing, somehow much more aroused than before. "We're working, Maximoff. There may be terrorists on the perimeter and you're here, well, I'm not judging, I'm just saying there's an appropriate time for everything. I'm sure your friend will survive if you let go of her mouth for a few hours. Who knows, maybe next time you can meet in a more appropriate place?" 
When you finally look at Nat, you can see that she's hiding a teasing little smile. You're glad that Wanda is making friends.
And unlike you, who doesn't mind having been caught not once but twice by the Avengers, Wanda looks like an embarrassed tomato who nods quickly while her magic does the work of adjusting your half-open clothes and leaving the objects you bump into in order again. 
"Of course, Natasha, I'll send her away. I'm sorry." Wanda practically pushes you out, dragging you to a more secluded area at the back of the dressing rooms.
She tries unwillingly to resist your eager hands or the quick but intense kisses you steal from her on the way.
"You have to go." She struggles to gasp, her hands pushing your shoulders to stop the whole thing or she wouldn't be able to think.
Wanda with her hair disheveled after a proper make-out session, her face flushed and her lips swollen is too much for you.
"Fuck." You gasp and she swallows.
"What?" 
You don't know what to say, nothing seems enough. She's awakened something in you that you didn't know existed. Suddenly, the idea of staying away from her seems an impossibility.
"When will I see you again?"
She frowns at the question, laughing nervously. "We shouldn't have seen each other even today."
But your hands pull her by the waist. "Nonsense. We should definitely do this again.” Your lips trail down her jaw, to the sensitive points on her neck that you're trying to memorize. She sighs, and struggles to keep her eyes open, but only for a moment before she pushes you away again, laughing shyly.
"Please, darling, I need to get back, my job-"
"There's no attempt attack, I flooded a toilet so I'd have time to see you." You clarify quickly and Wanda has to shake her head and laugh incredulously.
"You're nuts."
"Honestly? Yes. I think I've figured out what was wrong with me over the last weeks. You’re driving me nuts, Wanda Maximoff. I can't stop thinking about you." You retort quickly, not caring about the irregular beating of your pulse, nor the way she blushes heavily. "I need to know when I'm going to see you again."
She looks back into the dressing rooms and can see that Natasha is coming out through the curtain. She approaches you at once to give you one last intense kiss and whispers goodbye on your lips as you part.
With every inch of skin that Wanda touched vibrating and your heart pounding in your chest, you only remember to regulate your powers and return to a disguise a good few minutes after she has disappeared from sight, and hope that no security cameras saw you there.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
hey, i love your writing so much!! can you do something with remus where reader is really upset over doing bad on an assignment and he comforts her. i had an essay today and i KNOW i failed😭😭i fr need a remmy
Thank you gorgeous! I hope you did better than you thought <3
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 831 words
Remus can feel some sort of upset building inside you. You’ve been quiet ever since dinner, a glumness accumulating around you like a thick fog. He’d call it a sulk if your usual kindheartedness didn’t seem so intact. But every smile is thin-lipped and you’re making painfully slow progress on your section of the puzzle, your eyes too often going cloudy and distant, off to somewhere Remus can’t follow. 
“Think I’ve got one of yours,” Remus murmurs, pushing a puzzle piece towards you. 
You take it with a low hum of thanks. 
He watches as you put it in your pile. His section of the puzzle isn’t coming along much better; he’s too worried about you to focus. You’re teetering on the edge of some sort of fracturing, he can feel it, and he doesn’t know what to do or how to make it better. 
He tries a new tactic. “Do you feel like some dessert, love? I might nip to the corner store for a sweet.” 
“Sure, that sounds good.” The smile you give him this time is more a grimace than anything else, and then you’re pushing yourself up from where you sit on the floor. “I’m going to go to the restroom.” 
Remus watches you go with a hollow ache in his chest. During dinner, you’d gotten an alert on your phone, and the change had been instant. Your shoulders had drooped at whatever you’d seen, your lips parting and then pressing determinedly together before you’d set your phone on the table, face down. Remus didn’t ask, and you didn’t seem inclined to bring it up. But whatever it was has clearly stuck with you. 
He gives it a few minutes before he follows. You could actually be in the bathroom, but he doubts it; he thinks he knows where you’ve gone. There’s a small gap between the bed and the wall in your bedroom, just barely big enough to walk in.
That’s where he finds you. Slouched in the corner as if you’ve misbehaved. 
“Hey,” he says softly, cramming into the space in front of you. He places his feet on either side of yours, your drawn-up knees slotting between his calves. “Why’re you hiding from me?” 
You’ve got your face covered with your hands, and your voice muffles into them when you speak. Still, the evidence of your crying is audible. “Because I know I’m being stupid.” 
“You’ve never been stupid, not once in your life,” Remus replies lightly. He takes your wrists in his hands, letting his thumbs run over the sensitive skin. “If you tell me what’s wound you up so badly, I can tell you if it’s stupid, but I doubt it is.” 
You lower your hands without his asking. It takes a good deal of self-control not to crumple at the sight of you. Your face is blotchy, a terribly sad downturn to your pretty lips, and when a tear globs and drops from your eye, Remus feels like someone’s thrust their hand into his chest and squeezed.
“You’re too nice to tell me if I’m being stupid,” you say, a teasing note to your voice despite your sorry state. 
Remus goes with it. He nods, faux serious, and gives you a look of great solemnity. “If any stupidity comes to light, I promise to laugh at you for the rest of the night.” 
You start to smile, but it crumples halfway through. “I really messed up.” 
There’s no joking to his seriousness now; he feels his brows bunch as he rubs a path up your forearm, desperate to soothe you. “How, sweetheart?” 
“I did really badly on my essay,” you whimper. “I know it’s dumb to cry about but I just—I really wanted to do well.” 
His heart swells with sympathy, though there’s a bit of relief that comes with it. “That’s not stupid,” he promises you, working his hand up your arm to your shoulder. It’s halfway to a hug, and you lean towards him a little, craving the comfort. “To some people, it might be, but you put so much pressure on yourself about these things.” He kisses your knee. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, lovely, but it’s going to be okay.” 
You shake your head, sniffling. “The grade’s already in. There’s nothing I can do.” 
“I know,” Remus says apologetically. He moves closer, looking into your eyes so you can see the sincerity in his. Your chin wobbles. “It’s done, but you’ll be alright. You’ll still graduate, get a job. In a year from now you won’t even remember this.” 
You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. You’re still weeping, but it’s slowing. He sets both hands to your cheeks. “You did your best, sweetheart. Keep trying. You’ll be okay.” 
“Promise you won’t leave me if I fail this class?” you joke.
Your efforts win a rare smile. Remus scrunches his nose against yours. “Promise. It’ll take a lot more than that, you’ve got me all settled in.”
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sirgogington · 14 days
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This might be a little unorganized and is definitely an unpopular opinion in this community, but I'm going to say it anyway. Feel free to unfollow. I wasn't going to post about it, but honestly I am so upset for George in this situation. I want to preface that I am a 28 year old female so maybe my thinking is a little different due to that.
The more I read about people's reactions to the George situation the more angry I feel. George was being accused of sexual assault, and the consensus is "he fucked up and should have asked for consent."
My bold take is that I have little sympathy for Caiti. She is a woman who regrets flirting with George, which she has the right to. But her story really made it seem like George randomly started touching her inappropriately, forced her to drink more when she was already drunk, purposely preyed on her because she was 18, and followed her out of the room to the elevator.
None of these things happened. She was drunk beforehand and her friends that she went to Dreams room with wanted to play drinking games. George didn't randomly start touching her. They were sitting together on the couch playing a game with the rest of the group and mutually decided to start cuddling. Caiti got up multiple times and would always come back and cuddle with George. Over the hour of cuddling they were flirting with each other, playfighting etc. When cuddling George started with his hands on her hips above her clothes, and then after he assumed she was comfortable with what he was doing, given the previous signals of her laughing, smiling, and coming back to cuddle with him then he placed his hands on her waist under her clothes. He said he would slowly move them up after awhile. She didn't show any signs of being uncomfortable. She could have pushed his hand away or told him she was uncomfortable with that, but she didn't. She could of left if she felt uncomfortable or sat somewhere else, but she didn't. She also didn't have to walk with George to the elevator, but she did. She didn't have to keep in contact with him afterwards but again she did. It's no wonder why George was understandably confused, and assumed everyone had had a fun night that night, and was blindsided by these accusations. George said that he made a joke about the elevator being broken, but saw when she wasn't open to getting in the elevator with her then he backed off.
Her friends also knowingly put her this situation. They left her unattended while she was drunk in the hotel room with Dream and George and whoever else was left. Going to a drinking social at 18 is a risky situation in the first place, this is why in college I avoided frat parties because I knew what could potentially happen if I went.
George literally did not do anything wrong, and people are painting him as a monster. Now that Caiti did this stream he has lost a lot of his fanbase and friends for no reason, because God forbid you support George. If you support George you must hate woman, because he's evil. Like people have said this could have all been handled privately. Just simple communication like "hey I actually regret what happened at Vidcon, and I didn't actually like that you were cuddling me looking back" or something along those lines. If George is a decent person which it seems like he is he would say okay and apologize most likely, and they could have not had this nasty drama for no reason.
I believe there is non-verbal consent, and most people in that type of situation would rely on that more than verbal consent. They test things like George was doing and slowly progress things. He could have asked if she was okay with it, but she was showing all the signs over the 3 hours that she was. He's not making you stay if you get uncomfortable. Where non-verbal consent doesn't work is if George would have groped her after a half our of flirting. That would absolutely be wrong, and need to be apologized for.
George was defensive in his video because he needed to be. After being accused of all these things you didn't do, and Caiti leaving out details you would be defensive to. She made him out to look really bad. She blew the situation way out of proportion and George has to suffer due to this. I really think that George didn't need to post the extra apology tweet, that the livestream would of been enough to show that he had no malicious intentions and was sorry that Caiti felt strongly about what had happened.
The whole support victims things in this situation makes me upset as well. There were no victims because there was no sexual assault. Yet if you don't say I 100% support the victim then suddenly your evil and hate woman. Without there being a victim it seems dumb to put that but if you don't then you're follower count also takes a hit as a content creator. George didn't fuck up, he acted in a way most men would, and probably even in a more gentleman like way to be honest.
It also upset me as someone who has experienced very real sexual assault. The guy was 25 and I was 18. I didn't want anything sexual/romantic with him because I could see the age gap, and told him that. He invited me to his apartment which I thought would be innocent because I presented my boundaries, but then he started taking off my clothes and telling me I was okay with it over and over until I believed him and let it happen, while feeling really uncomfortable. My body language did not show any interest, just confusion. I remember answering "I don't know" when he asked for consent to touch me, but he would just keep asking until I said okay. He purposely preyed on the younger women because he knew they were easier to coerce and more vulnerable. Looking back I didn't really knew where I stood on hook up culture. He convinced me he could teach me a few things that I could use with my sexual partners in the future. Luckily it never progressed to him taking my virginity. He bragged about how many girls he had slept with, and how many he had took their virginity. I would have been just a number to him. I am so much more than just a number. (he did a lot of other sexual things with me after coercing me into saying okay. Stuff I can detail if you care to know. I remember saying out loud that I was glad that I still had my virginity and I'm glad he didn't take it afterall. Not purposely leaving out, but it was way more than Caiti had experienced with George. For my situation there was a high likelihood it would happen again to another girl like me, and I remember wanting to warn them. It's different because my attacker did have malicious intents even though he disguised it as me consenting.) Being in the mindset I am now I would have never let any of it happen, but I am much more in tune with my thoughts and opinions on things. I would have noticed all the red flags and I would have never put myself in a 1 on 1 situation with an older guy like that or any guy unless I were dating them.
Outside the fandom I've noticed that a lot of people agree with me in this. It's just within the fandom that people are of this support the victim mindset, even when said victim turns out to not have been a victim of anything. I don't know if it's different with younger people that you have to ask for verbal consent for everything, but it just seems dumb. Everyone was also drunk and not thinking straight so sober minded Georgenotfound would have probably asked for consent before he moved his hands up. It's hard to know. I think other content creators probably do agree with me, but they aren't able to have their own opinions, which to me seems gross and fake. We can't genuinely know how content creators feel on certain issues because if were to tell what they truly thought and it wasn't the majority consensus then they risk their viewership which is also twisted.
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aniyas-weird-writing · 7 months
Note
Hey :) I hope you’re having a fantastic day :) please could I request headcanons for Fujin, Liu Kang and Hanzo Hasashi where they are training with their crush and they accidentally kiss (please could it be steamy) 💙💙
(1/4 drafts) Of course! I’ll try and make it steamy.
Liu Kang, Hanzo, and Fujin accidentally kisses their crush during training~
Liu Kang
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Liu Kang was training with you. You both were doing some basic punches to each other and blocking.
You decide it’s a fine day to try and punch the fawk out of Liu Kang because… competition or somethin’
You start punching a bit harder and Liu Kang notices. He blocks and goes to parry you.
Somehow, you accidentally trip on his foot and you fall to the ground.
Liu Kang stares at you like this:
👁️👄👁️
You chuckle sheepishly and you ask him to help you up.
He extends his hand out for you and you take it. He lifts you up and..
your lips connect together..
Liu and you are in shock.. but.. why did it feel so.. good?
You look at Liu Kang and he seems to understand what your thinking.
He puts a finger on your chin and leans in to kiss you one again.
You feel your heart flutter as both your lips connect again. Liu Kang puts both his arms on your waist as he pulls you closer.
After a few seconds, you and Liu Kang pull away.. the feeling of the kiss still lingers on your lips.
A blush adores your cheek as Liu Kang lovingly looks at you..
And finally, Liu Kang confesses his feelings to you (*´v`)
Fujin
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You asked Fujin if he could train you with his wind. You wanted to learn how to defend yourself against air. (A/N: 💀)
He agreed and so far, training is going well. You slowly learn how to block the wind attacks and Fujin praises your work.
Fujin decides to test your reflexes and he pulls the wind behind you to push you forward.
You, caught of guard, stumble forward towards Fujin and..
You accidentally kiss his neck. (a̶n̶d̶ h̶e̶ l̶e̶t̶'s̶ o̶u̶t̶ a̶ g̶r̶o̶a̶n̶?)
You blush and quickly back off, apologizing but Fujin insists your okay. He admits he liked the neck kiss.. and he also admits he has a crush on you.
You, still a bit surprised, process his words and, with a blush on your cheeks, say you have a crush on him too.
Fujin seems relieved that you like him. He’s been holding his feelings for you for a while now.
Fujin wraps his arms around your waist and he looks in your eyes, his eyes asking for consent.
When you grant him consent, you kiss you and you feel extremely good. You feel like you could kiss his soft lips forever.
His lips feel right on yours.
Hanzo Hasashi
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(A/N, I forgot to save my draft so my progress is gone for Hanzo’s part 😡 I don’t really remember what I wrote so I think I’ll just get to the spicy part)
As you swiftly dodge Hanzo’s spear attack, you rush to kick him but he swiftly kicks your feet and you fall.
You grabs his arm as you fall and he falls on top of you.
And you feel his lips press against yourself, and you feel your cheeks start to heat up.
You and Hanzo are in this position for a while.
Hanzo can’t help but think about his wife.. how your lips are as soft and plump as his beautiful deceased wife.. he can’t help but deepen the kiss, putting his right hand on your flushed cheeks.
You sigh in the kiss and Hanzo pulls away. He apologizes for not asking you beforehand but you reassure him, saying it was open and you have something to tell him..
Hanzo is surprised and happy that you confessed you have a crush on him. Hanzo says he has a crush on you too.
You both share another tender kiss.
I have 3 more request to do🤭 I think I’ll do one more today and finish the rest tmr. (I have to do some research on Enoch)
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number1jeonginstan · 16 days
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A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, got bored, not gonna be here forever, just wanted to drop something quick! 18+ Minors DNI! pairing: Roomate!Lee Know x afab!Reader wc: 2.6k cw: unprotected sex, masturbation (m! and f!), recording of said masturbation, oral (f! receiving), cumming inside, ummm idk what else..
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“I just need to get dicked down” you whined into your phone, as you applied a fresh coat of nail polish to your freshly cut and filed nails. 
“I agree with you, you are so tense” your friend hummed, the sound of water ran in the background as she did her dishes. “Why don’t you ask your hot roommate, I bet he’s a good fuck” she giggled. 
“You mean Minho? I mean he is objectively attractive, I mean have you seen him? But I don’t think he likes girls like that or anyone for that matter. He’s never brought anyone over, and all he does is watch anime in the living room, hang out with the cats, and then occasionally make us dinner” you whined, placing your hand under the UV light to cure your nails faster. 
“I mean, you could always ask, you are single, he’s single and the two of you are hot in a dry spell” she spoke up, hearing your sigh. 
“What should I ask him, ‘Hey Minho, I know we have had an amazing roommate relationship for the past year, but I want to mess all of that up by desecrating your sacred space by forcing you to have sex with me because I’m horny and have been in a year-long dry spell!” you giggled at your phone, laughing at your stupidity. 
What you didn’t realize was that Minho had come home early from work that day and was right outside your door, listening to your entire conversation. 
When you finally hung up the call with her, you heard a slight knock at your door. You slowly opened it only to be met face-to-face with Minho. There was a slight bit of fear etched on your face, scared that he had heard your entire conversation and wanted to kick you out, but instead, he had just asked if you had dinner already. 
“Oh, no I haven’t, I was doing my nails” you gleaned, showing him the French tips you had done that had taken you roughly two hours. 
“Good, let me make us something” 
“That would be great!” you grinned back, ready to close the door so you could scroll on your phone as he cooked the two of you dinner, not wanting to disrupt him. 
“I was wondering if you wanted to watch something? There was this new anime that I thought was cute and was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me while I cooked?” 
“That would be great! Let me just put on a sweater” 
He didn’t realize that you were standing in front of him, the only thing adorning your body being a pair of sleep shorts that barely covered your ass and a tank top that showed the outline of your hardened nipples. 
“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll start playing it” he coughed, turning around quickly so you couldn’t see the red beginning to creep on the tips of his ears. 
That’s how your week had started, the two of you getting together and eating dinner while watching the anime Minho had been adamant about watching.
As the week progressed, more and more strange things were happening. It wasn’t necessarily strange, but it was weird for the two of you at least. 
Minho had started walking around in just his boxers instead of his regular pajama shirt and pants, not to mention he had started to get oddly close to you. 
He was constantly rubbing against you, coming behind you to grab cups from the cupboard, and even one time held you by your hips, rubbing his cock against your ass to “get you out of the way”. 
It was all getting to be too much, your already stimulated body was getting worse and worse from the amount of physical contact from Minho. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking out ice cream from the freezer as you were washing the dishes that the two of you had eaten off of. You hadn’t even realized that you had been washing the same dish over 12 times, your brain wandering off while the only thing on your mind was the way his cock pressed against your ass. 
You let out a slight whimper before responding with a quick yes. “I should actually get back to my room, I think I’m a bit tired today” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. 
You quickly scurried away from your shared kitchen Dori following behind you. You quickly closed your bedroom door behind you, jumping into your bed and under the covers. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest. 
He just chuckled at your antics, walking to his own room, leaving the door slightly ajar so if you were to leave, you could see him stroking his cock at the thought of you, but he knew he had to make the first move. 
That’s how he got into the position he was in right now, his phone recording his head thrown back, hand stroking his fat cock, his thumb running along the slit spreading his pre-cum along his cock. 
“Fuck kitten, wish it was your pretty little cunt. Bet you could take me so well y/n” he whined, his phone’s mic picking up each and every single sigh leaving his lips. 
He could feel himself getting close at the thought of you in your skimpy pajamas you were wearing earlier, the shorts riding up as the two of you sat on the couch eating, allowing him to see the outline of your panties and your ass. 
The thought of your ass jiggling against his thighs as he fucked into you was all he needed to cum, his phone recording the way his cock squirted out his cum, covering his stomach.
Before he could even clean himself up, he sent you the video, placing his phone down to remove his seed off his body. When he finally got back, he sent you another text apologizing that it wasn’t met for you, hoping you would take the bait and hear the way he moaned for you, logging for you to finally take advantage of the hints he had been dropping for the past week. 
Minho 🐰
*video attachment 
Minho 🐰
Shit, that wasn’t met for you
You
Don’t worry Minho, I won’t watch it :)  Have a good day! 
Minho 🐰
Thank you, sorry about that  I’ll be out for a bit, just getting something to drink, do you want anything?
You
Coffee would be great if you don’t mind!
Minho 🐰
Iced mocha latte with extra whipped cream? 
You
Yes please <3 
You rolled in bed, your hair slightly a mess as you looked back at your messages. Your curiosity had slowly gotten the better of you, and you needed to know what was on the video that Minho had asked you not to look at. 
It couldn’t be that bad, you thought to yourself, not even bothering to lock your door as you pressed play.
The video was dark at first until you saw the light hue of Lee Know’s desk lamp and it took you a second to realize what he was doing. He was pumping his cock, his whines playing through your phone, loud enough for anyone outside of your room to hear, but you didn’t care. 
You could feel yourself getting wetter at the sight of his head thrown back, his bunny teeth peering through his open mouth. 
You whined as you slowly pulled your hands down your shorts and underwear, playing with your clit. You felt guilty until you heard him moan your name. 
“Be you would be such a good kitten for me y/n, bet you would lap at my cock for hours” he groaned, pumping his cock faster. 
You whined as you slowly placed your phone beside you, pulling your shorts and underwear down as you rubbed your fingers up and down your slit, capturing the wetness between them as you slowly inserted a finger inside of your cunt. 
“Fuck Minho” you whimpered, thrusting your finger in and out of your cunt as your other one played with your clit. 
What you didn’t realize was that Minho had already come home, his cock hardening at the sounds of your pussy squelching. He could hear his moans through your door, and he pushed his luck. 
He slowly opened your room door, taking sight of your head pushed against your pillows as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 
“I told you not to watch didn’t I kitten?” Minho grinned, his eyes roaming up and down your body, as you tried to hide your body from him, feeling ashamed. 
“Nuh, uh, if you want it so bad show me baby” he grinned, watching as you slowly opened your legs for him. 
He entered your room, placing himself at the foot of your bed and watching the way your pussy clenched around nothing. 
“Fuck kitten, I was right this pussy is so fucking pretty. Fuck baby, this pussy is so wet, tell me who’s doing this to you.” 
“You are Minho” you moaned as he bent down, licking a stripe against your pussy. His lips catch your clit, sucking on it causing your legs to shut. 
You were hiding your face behind your hands, a bit ashamed of how wet you were for him, how much he turned you on. You slowly tried to close your legs, but he stopped you. “Let’s keep these open baby, such a pretty cunt, why do you want to hide it from me?” 
“Don’t want to hide it” you whined “Wanna be good for you” 
“Yeah? Want to be my good little girl?” he chuckled slowly, opening your folds with his thumb, watching the way you just nodded.
“Fuck, you taste better than anything I’ve ever tasted before.” He said while licking your pussy another time. “So fucking sweet, you are going to let me eat you for dessert whenever I need it aren’t you?” 
“Yes sir, will be such a good girl for you” you moaned as he started putting his veiny fingers inside of you. He began fucking his fingers inside at a quick pace, still sucking on your clit and all you could do was moan. 
“Don’t even have to stretch you much, already got yourself riding your cute little fingers” he grinned, loving the way your walls were clenching on his fingers indicating that you were close.
“Please Minho, too much, I’m gonna cum.”
“Then be a good kitten and cum on my fingers, then I’ll make you cum on my cock” 
“Yes, sir, I can take it. Please can I cum, please sir let me cum” you moaned as his fingers hit that particular spot in you causing you to go over the edge, your entire body shaking as you came over the edge, cumming on his fingers. 
“Minho, need your cock, please need it inside of me.” you pleaded and he was in awe. You had just cum, but you were still begging for his cock. He was going to have fun with you. 
“You just came and already need my cock? How much of a needy slut are you? You just want your hole filled at all times?” He scoffed at you. He was still fully dressed as you were just in your sweater underneath him. You pawed at his shirt and he just laughed, taking it off, along with his sweats. 
You could see how hard his dick was through his boxers, your eyes widening a bit, trying to hide your reaction by covering. He chuckled at your reaction, releasing his fat cock from his boxers. 
“Fuck baby, let me grab a condom” he stopped, his hard cock slapping his stomach. 
“No, I’m clean and on the pill, want you fully in me” you whined underneath him causing him to throw his head back groaning. 
“Yeah, are you just a little slut who needs me to fuck her raw? Want me to cum inside of you baby?” 
“Yes, just a slut for you sir, I need you, need you in me, need you to cum inside of me.” You spread your cunt apart with your fingers, trying to show him where you needed him most and he just groaned. 
He slowly pushed his tip inside of you, knowing how eager you were. He was also eager, his dick hard as soon as you moaned his name the first time. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, don’t know why I didn’t fuck it beforehand.”
He slowly pushed his dick inside of you, your cunt squeezing it tight, making it hard for him to fully still inside of you. “Baby I need you to relax so you can take my cock. You can be a good kitten for me and do that right?” 
You simply nodded, taking his hand in yours your body convulsing as he slowly pushed his entire length inside of you. “Fuck baby, you feel even better than you taste.” You moaned, feeling so full as his cock sank inside of your wet walls.
“So good Minho, feel so full” you moaned, feeling so full of him you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Please move, I need you” You looked up at him, taking his fingers going into your mouth and sucking on them, your doe eyes looking directly at him. He began thrusting into you, causing you to moan around his fingers. 
“Fuck this pussy is so tight, gonna fuck you all around the apartment from now on. This pussy is mine and mine only, you got it?” You just nodded as he began thrusting into you faster. 
You were on the verge of cumming, but Minho pulled out before you could. Before you could protest, he flipped you around, your ass up and face at the end of his bed looking straight at the mirror in front of you. “I want you to see how pretty you look on my cock, wanna watch you go dumb on it.” 
You felt yourself slipping away, the only thing on your mind was Minho and his cock. “Minho, fuck it feels so good.” you moaned, feeling him hit that spot inside of you. “Yeah, kitten? Look at who’s making you cum, look at who’s making you dumb on their cock.” 
“You are, you are making me feel this good” you moaned as his thrusts got harder. With one more thrust, you were cumming on his cock. 
“Fuck, this pussy is to die for” he groaned, continuing to thrust into you trying to get to his own high. After a few more thrusts, he could feel himself getting ready to cum. “Where do you want me baby?” 
“In me,” you said with no hesitation. You wanted to feel him deep inside of you. “Fuck kitten, you are going to be the death of me” With another thrust he depended himself inside of you, cumming straight into your cunt, loving the way it was milking him dry. 
You both fell back on his bed, him wrapping his arms around you as he covered you both with your blanket. Both of your clothes are still splayed on the floor of his room. “That was… unexpected,” you said. 
“I mean, I had it all planned out since you were on the phone with your friend last week.” he grinned, rubbing circles along your shoulder. 
“What!” 
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dreamescapeswriting · 22 days
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || Your Have Another Band Tattoo
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PAIRING: Skz x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
Chan was working on his laptop when you nervously walked into the living room and paced in front of him, pacing so much it was starting to make him a little dizzy from seeing you.
"What's going on? You only pace when there's something wrong?" He chuckled a little, shutting his laptop and putting his work to the side for a bit. You froze in place and stared at him, nervously playing with the sleeves of your shirt as you tried to think of how you were supposed to start this.
"I have something to show you," You swallowed the lump in your throat. You had a tattoo to show him, one that was going to get increasingly harder to hide from him as your relationship progressed. 
"So show me," He chuckled a little and you slowly rolled up the sleeve of your hoodie,
"I got this a long time ago," You told him before he watched you closely, revealing the tattoo of a guitar as well as some lyrics to a song he knew was your absolute favourite.
"Whoa! When did you get that?!" He runs his hands over the tattoo, admiring it as a giant smile beamed on his face.
"When I turned old enough for my first tattoo, I just remember really wanting it but I just...I-I didn't want you to see it and think I was hiding it." You admit before Chan chuckles once again.
"It's unexpected but you're so freaking cute," He gushes before kissing your cheek softly.
"You think so?!" You'd been so worried that he would be upset about it you never thought about him actually liking it,
"Yeah! This tattoo is a piece of your musical journey," He smirks, still running his fingers over your tattoo as you begin to tell him the story of when you first got it.
MINHO:
As Minho got ready for dance practice with you he stared at you, watching as you beamed at the guys talking about something you seemed excited about but there was something that Minho could see wasn't right about you. There was a huge plaster on your bicep,
"What happened, baby?" He cooed, walking up to you and rubbing your lower back a little. Instantly he felt the mood shift as you stared at him, your eyes watering a little.
"You have to promise not to freak out." You'd done everything to hide this tattoo ever since you'd gotten together with Minho but as the summer days grew closer it was becoming clearer that you didn't have much of a choice anymore.
"Why would I freak out?" He chuckles nervously until you slowly pull off the plaster,  his mouth falling open a little as he sees the logo of another kpop band that wasn't his. 
"I-I'm sorry, I got it before we met, they were my favourite band back then." Tears welled up in your eyes and Minho stared at you, 
"Why would I freak out?" He chuckled softly, he was hurt, sure but he wasn't going to get upset with you for getting a tattoo of a band you loved.
"I thought you'd be...mad?" He stares at you before kissing your forehead softly, 
"I could never be mad at you." He told you with a soft smile, kissing your cheek softly as you felt your body heating up.
"Even if they got a tattoo of my name across their ass?" Felix teased earning a glare from the older member and a giggle from you as you hugged Minho tightly.
CHANGBIN:
Changbin had been nervous ever since he'd seen you in the shower that morning, it had been an accident when he walked in on you but now he was more worried about the tattoo he'd spotted.
"Hey, what's going on in that pretty head?" You giggled walking over to Changbin and gently touching his arm. Changbin hesitated, nervously biting his bottom lip as he stared at you.
"I saw your tattoo," He admits. He remembered the small logo that was on your collarbone, your heart dropped a little. You'd been covering it up with a heavy foundation whenever you were intimate with Changbin and you completely forgot about it in the shower.
"I got it a while ago before we were together..." You admit to him, staring at him as you tried to read him for any signs that he was pissed off at you or not.
"They were my favourite band, I loved their music and it really spoke to me." You whispered as you stared at him. Changbin was a mess of emotions, he was jealous more than anything that someone else was on your body other than him.
"It's cute," He whispered, smiling at you as you felt a weight lift off your shoulders.
"You're not mad?"
"At you? Never...But are you planning on getting more?" He arched a brow at you making you laugh a little and kiss his cheek softly.
"Maybe, you wanna draw one for me?"You teased, kissing him softly as he pulled you close to him.
HYUNJIN:
It had been an accident when Hyunjin saw it, he hadn't even meant to see you today but he'd walked into a shop you just happened to be inside of.
"Are you sure you don't want to get it covered? I mean, you could replace the tattoo with something for his band," Your best friend said as you stared down at your hands, you'd confided in her about the tattoo you had on your thigh from another band.
"I don't want to, their music is a part of me but I don't want Hyunjin to hate me for it." He stilled as he stared at the back of your head, your friend freezing as she saw him standing there.
"I could never hate you," Hyunjin whispered as he sat down beside you, your friend quickly went into the changing rooms and gave you both some time alone.
"I'm upset that you felt that you had to hide something from me but I'd never hate you for getting a tattoo of something you like." He reassured you, rubbing your back softly as you sniffled a little, turning and hiding your head in his neck.
"I love you, okay? A tattoo of some other band is never going to change that," He promised before kissing the top of your head softly.
JISUNG:
Trying on outfits for your friend's upcoming wedding was supposed to be fun but Jisung had ended up walking away from you when you'd shown him the last outfit so you'd quickly rushed to get dressed and chased after him.
"What's going on?" You panted when you finally caught up to him,
"I saw it,"
"It?" You frowned, your heart racing from the running you had just been doing but Jisung sighed at you, shaking his head.
"Your tattoo," As soon as he said it your heart raced for a different reason and you felt your mouth run dry.
"I-"
"When did you get it?" He was hurt and with good reason, it wasn't easy when he found out his partner had another man tattooed on their body and he was starting to overthink it.
"A few years ago, before we got together. He was my bias and I just- I was drunk and decided I needed him on my body," You were anxious about the tattoo, it was always something you'd regretted.
"Oh...S-So it's not recent?" He looked at you, the shine gone from his eyes was enough to make your heart sink as you stared at him and whimpered.
"No, baby, no it was from years ago..."You reached out to touch his hand and he sighed a little.
"I'm sorry I freaked out," He mumbled before you bought him into a tight hug,
"Don't worry about it." You whispered, pulling him toward the food court so you could grab something to eat before you continued shopping.
FELIX:
When Felix had spotted your tattoo over a week ago he instantly began to overthink it all, he didn't want to but the idea of you having someone else's lyrics on your body hurt more than he thought it was going to.
"Have you talked to them about it? Maybe it was a mistake?" Jisung offered some advice but Felix shook his head, his head in his hands as he groaned a little.
"Why didn't they just tell me about it? What if it's because they really like the singer?"
"Lix-" Jisung tried to warn him that you were in the room but Felix shook his head, continuing to list off all the things he'd been overthinking for the last week.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" You breathed out, dropping down onto the sofa and rubbing his back softly. You'd been trying to get him to talk to you for days but he'd been skillfully avoiding you until tonight.
"A-Avoiding? No." He stutters a little before you kiss his cheek softly.
"The tattoo is from years ago, it was my first ever tattoo," You explained before kissing his cheek softly yet again and earning a blush from him.
"I shouldn't have been freaked out but-"
"I get it, I'd freak out a little too," You reassured him, kissing him softly as he relaxed a little.
SEUNGMIN:
"Hey, I have something to show you," You told Seungmin as you walked into his place, your smile unable to contain as you practically jumped up and down on the spot.
"Okay...." He chuckled watching you closely, you relaxed a little and slowly rolled the leg of your pants up to reveal your thigh.
"Whoa!" His jaw dropped as he saw his Skzoo tattooed on your leg, he gently ran his fingers over the tattoo and you smirked at him.
"It's fresh! You like it?" You wiggled your brows at him and he nodded at you, before looking at another tattoo on your thigh.
"Is that one from your favourite band?" You looked at where his eyes were going and giggled, nodding your head at him.
"When did you get that? I've never seen it!" He chuckled, completely surprised but amazed by you.
"A few years ago, you like that one?" You smile, sitting beside him as he nods, asking you if you have anymore he didn't know about.
JEONGIN:
You'd fallen asleep on the sofa while you and Jeongin were watching a film and he'd seen the tattoo by accident, his eyes staring down at the logo in amazement. It was etched upon your skin and it looked pretty.
"Is the movie over?" You groaned, rolling toward Jeongin who hummed softly.
"Is that a tattoo of your old favourite band?" He arched a brow and you smirked at him.
"Old favourite?"
"Well obviously we're your favourite now," He smirked at you before you smirked, kissing him softly and nodding.
"It might seem strange, but back then...that band really spoke to me, they were so different from anything else...I just-"
"Baby, you don't have to explain yourself to me. Your love for them is yours and I just love seeing your tattoo," He chuckled holding you tightly in his arms.
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obey-me-disaster · 1 year
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Hey, I was wonderin if ya could write a headcanon of how the characters could deal with MCs death, if they weren't revived after Belphie killed em in lesson 16.
Thank ya :purple_heart:
A/N: I am not sure if by 'characters' you mean all of them or not. I will do the brothers for now and if you want anyone else, feel free to ask ^-^
Demon brothers x gn!MC
Spoilers for lesson 16!!
Warnings: death and description of it, grieving
MC stays dead for good
Lucifer
He is feeling so many things and none of them are good. MC is dead, his little brother did it, he failed to protect both and it all can be traced back to him.
MC's injuries are beyond healing and all he can do is watch them die and regret everything he has done up until that point. He regrets every time he tried to harm them, he regrets not hiding Belphegor better, far away from them.
When Diavolo and Barbatos appear he lets himself have some hope that they could save MC, only to get hit with the realization that not only would they stay dead, but Belphegor will be taken away for treason too.
If Barbatos decides to reveal the whole Lilith thing, this whole situation will become unbearable to him. He let down everyone he loved and he only has himself to blame.
If he knew how deep of a wound would MC's death leave in his heart, he would have chosen anyone but them for the exchange program. Or maybe not, it was still a privilege to get to know them in the first place.
After MC's death he becomes even stricter with his rules, so none of his brothers can do anything stupid that could get themselves in trouble. He can't bear to lose anyone close to him, especially if he can do something about it.
Mammon
He was the one that held their dying body. All his attention was on them, he couldn't hear the way Belphegor was mocking him for crying over a human.
Despite feeling how they were dying in his arms he was still trying to cling onto the hope that they could be healed. Unfortunately, fate was having something else in mind.
For a good while after their death he could still feel them dying in arms. He is really conflicted over trying to remember that way MC felt in his arms and trying to forget how it felt when they died.
Despite all of that he tries to be of help to all of his brothers. Lucifer can't be the only one trying to keep the family together, especially when he is grieving too. In a way this whole thing reminds him of how all his brothers were after the fall.
He stops takes a long break from gambling and from money making schemes. He really sees no use for the money if MC is not there with him.
He will most likely beat himself over the fact that he couldn't protect them. He was their first man after all, the demon that was put in charge of protecting them and he failed! He is not getting over that guilt any time soon
Leviathan
He thinks it's all a bad dream. Why else would his best friend be dying? At the hands of his brother?? He tries to deny it but it's pretty hard to do so when MC is literally dying in front of him.
He wants to believe that this is one of those moments when the protagonist of an anime is on the brink of death, but through the power of plot armor they get a new power. The only thing MC gets is a one way ticket to the Celestial Realm. guess Simeon and Luke will see them after all
He refuses to come out of his room and face reality. He will rewatch every anime he has watched with them. Will try to recreate the conversations he had with MC by talking with Henry 2.0. His brothers will have to bring food into his room to be sure he doesn't die of starvation.
It takes a long while before he starts going out again, after all, who is The Lord of Shadows without his Henry.
Any and all progress he made on seeing himself in a better light will go down the drain. He will need some time to snap out of it and realize that MC would not want to see him hate himself.
Satan
He knew there was no hope of saving MC bu just glancing at them. That was probably the only time in his life where he cursed all his knowledge and wished he was ignorant. Maybe that he way he could still have some hope that MC will live.
He goes between complete fits of rage and feeling numb. MC taught him how to better feel emotions other than anger and now that they are gone he doesn't know what to do with himself.
He doesn't know who should he direct his anger to. Belphegor for killing them? It seems obvious but it's not enough. Lucifer for creating this situation to begin with? He would love to, but Lucifer is also at his lowest so it doesn't feel right. Himself for not seeing the signs of MC working behind all of their backs? He already does that.
He avoids any and all romance books. He keeps seeing MC in the main love interest and he hates it.
He keeps thinking of all of their injuries and in how much pain they must have been in their last moments. If he wanted to, he could name all of their injuries that he recognized just by looking at their body.
He knows that logically he couldn't do anything, but sometimes the thought of 'if I was better at human medicine/biology I could have saved them'.
Asmodeus
It makes his skin crawl just thinking of the way MC looked as they were taking their last breath. He still has it in the back of his mind. Along that, he also has the feeling of helplessness memorized.
If anyone would think he would stop taking care of himself after MC's death, they would be deathly wrong. MC was one of the only people that didn't like just for his looks, and probably the only one vocal about how they loved his personality. Now with them gone, he thinks there is no one he can show flaws with.
He has to be at his best. To not let anyone know about his imperfections. The demons that don't know him may think he got over MC's death pretty fast, but his brothers that live with him can hear him sob in his bedroom.
He sleeps with a lot of demons and humans in hopes of getting rid of the pain but it doesn't help since he is missing the affectionate, non sexual, touches that MC would give him.
He made a special album of all the photos he ever took of MC. He didn't want to risk the photos from his phones disappearing by accident and lose something important for him. He would hate to not be able to gaze at their face, even if it's just through photos
Beelzebub
This man is crushed. Not only did he lose MC, he lost them at the hands of his twin. He is beyond torn on the inside, and no matter what side he chooses to take he will be riddled with guilt.
At that moment he felt just like during their fall. A huge joke of a protector that couldn't keep his loved ones alive. His nightmares after the whole incident will be nearly a daily basis.
He tries to talk with Belphie about the whole incident, he doesn't want to lose two people at the same time, but he also feels like he is betraying MC's memory by trying to save his twin.
If the whole reveal of MC being Lilith's reincarnation's descendent happens that will literally end him. He couldn't protect the last thing that was related to Lilith.
Just like Satan, his sin is out of control. He goes between long periods of not eating and periods where his gluttony is worse than ever.
The only thing worse than his gluttony is his survivor's guilt. People he loves and cares about keeping on dying/being taken away yet he remains unharmed and for what? Is that a cruel joke of the universe? He didn't even get to protect MC/talk with Belphie during the incident. He literally couldn't do anything but ask himself 'why?'
Belphegor
I already made a post on how MC and Belphegor got to bond before lesson 16.
At first he feels justified. He got his revenge, proved his point and protected his family from having the same faith as Lilith. Yet despite all of that it feels wrong.
Satisfaction from killing them quickly turned into anger at seeing his brothers cry over a 'random human' to regret. He realized that he himself got attached to them, and now that both his anger and MC were gone he was left with nothing. His brothers must hate him now, after all he murdered someone precious to them.
Due to treason he is locked up somewhere away from his brothers so in his mind, he really lost everything. If Diavolo and Barbatos reveal the whole Lilith thing he will literally want to end himself on the spot. He lost his sister, MC, the only remainder of his sister, lived in hate for something that was not even true, betrayed his brothers and lost them. In one night his life took a turn for the worst in a way he could not even imagine.
And on top of all of that, he can feel the way Beel is trying to cope with the loss of MC and feels even more guilty for making Beel go through that.
He also can't make himself grieve for MC cause in his mind, he has no right to do that, after all he killed them in cold blood and laughed over their body.
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