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some-bunniii · 3 months

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Lucifer meeting an artist reader

・❥ The King of Hell admires your paintings

x: reader is g/n :) no use of pronouns or y/n

warnings: some raunchy details of your painting & mild swearing

When you arrived in Hell, the first thing you did was scream.

Where were you? Why was it so hot? What happened to your bed?!

“You’re in Hell, kid.” A blue bat-faced man had broke the news, as you stood helpless and confused on the street.

Hell? Like, demons and dark satanic magic kind of Hell?

That couldn’t be right. Were you that bad of a person to deserve such a fate? Did the few times you passed the Salvation Army donation bucket without dropping a coin damn you to this place?

Your death was fuzzy, a trail of shattered memories that could only give you bits and pieces of your final days. Did you go quickly in your sleep? Maybe, you hit your head so hard it caused you some kind of post-death amnesia?

Whatever had happened, you were here now with no way out.

During your first few days scouring for answers, you began to notice that Hell had an eerie similarity to life above ground. There were clubs, casinos, concerts. Heck, even TV! Sure, the things broadcasted were dark and sometimes disgusting.. but at least you had something to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all? At least, compared to being thrown into dark, fiery pits for all of eternity like some cruel game of sink or swim.

Minus the people, of course. Most of them were pretty bad. Your first day watching a man get shot in the chest and lines of cocaine across tables in a diner made you decide to stay away from the streets of the city.

Which meant you had to get busy making a life for yourself. It started with working odd jobs as a bartender or a bell-hopper. You’d scrap together enough money to head to the nearest art supply store, and fill your bag with paints and charcoal pencils.

“You an artist or something?” The clerk had asked you as she scanned your items, taking note of your vast amount of diverse tools you were slowly collecting every time you stopped by.

“I usually paint, but yes, I used to do all kinds of mediums professionally when I was.. alive,” You had whispered that last part out with a pang of sadness, the reality of your situation still a fresh wound in your mind.

You had found an ad for an art studio, ran by a demon named Alexandre. You had showed him a few of your pieces, some pretty landscapes, a rendition of the Starry Night Sky which you had replaced the backdrop to be Pentagram city instead of whatever little village it was originally, and a self portrait.

“You got talent, i’ll give you that,” He had hummed, as his eyes scanned your paintings with intrigue, “But the subject? Not really what we’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” You had asked, confusion evident in your voice.

“We’re in Hell, demons ain’t into pretty ponies and happy, little trees. They want more— eh how do i put this — sinful behavior?”

“Like…?”

“Like tits or anything that can be turned into a kink. They like blood and guts, and dead people splayed around. Dead angels too. Stuff like that.”

Tits? Dead people? You didn’t have much practice with that! At least not enough to make a career out of it.

But you had agreed anyway, this was your only shot. You stayed up late into the night, sometimes even into the early mornings, perfecting your skill when it came to much more risqué visuals. You would buy stacks of pornograohic magazines, flipping through for poses to memorize.

Slowly, you began to master the craft, and your time at the studio increased as you finally settled into life in Hell.

All you had to do was churn out painting after pastel after acrylic in the little cramped room you now called home. Alexandre would then take your pieces and sell them to the highest bidder. You’d get a percentage of the commission, using the money for whatever necessary.

Seeing as you could be mugged at literally any point in time, or anywhere for that matter, you made sure to keep a large sum of cash locked away in a double-bolted safe.

“You know Ozzie’s, that club down in the Lust Ring?” Alexandre had approached you one day, excitement in his eyes.

You shook your head as you sat behind the easel, your brush an inch from the canvas.

“Run by Asmodeus, one of the literal seven deadly sins?”

You shook your head once more.

“Fuck, you still have a lot to learn. Well, he really likes your art. He wants to buy a bunch of paintings for his club, and he’ll drop a shit ton of cash too. Ya think you can handle it?”

Your eyes had widened when he told you the exact price this sin guy was willing to pay. You had jumped from your seat, shaking his hand in profuse thanks, before scurrying off to gather more supplies.

And for a time, that’s how it went. You’d sell your steamiest paintings to Asmodeus, and other private commissions you took one after the other.

Apparently, your painting hung up in Ozzie’s was getting a lot of attention. Especially from a certain spider demon named Angel Dust.

After hearing Charlie’s decision to look for another member of their staff— someone who’d be in charge of decorating the premise with promises of love and tranquility up in Heaven— Angel Dust had taken a few snaps of your work with his phone, before showing it to Vaggie and Charlie. He had complimented your work, claiming it was ‘the best’ oil paintings he’d ever seen.

Although, in his line of work, he probably hadn’t seen many to compare yours so.

“ls this what we want in our hotel?" Vaggie had asked, motioning to a woman on the canvas that was drenched in sweat and white fluid, her private parts exposed to the audience as she posed suggestively on a stripper pole.

To which Charlie has responded, "I think it's... unique! You can definitely see she knows how to, um, really bring the scene to life! l'm sure she'll be open to creating our vision!"

Your phone had rung one night, with a voice on the other end begging you to come to her hotel and at least hear her offer for a new job.

Which lead you to the Hazbin Hotel, a slightly run down building that obviously needed more work. Inside and out.

“Oh my gosh! Hi there! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Thanks.. but I don’t see many guests around.” You had told her, your eyes darting around the lobby as you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, we’re still trying to get our name out there. We’re not just any hotel, we’re a hotel set on redeeming sinners!” She exclaimed with pride.

“Redeem?” You had asked her, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

She shook her head vigorously, “This hotel.. it’s going to be amazing! We’re going to turn Sinners into well.. non-sinners! They’ll be rehabilitated, and have morals! And honor! Heaven won’t be able to do anything but welcome them as angels!”

This idea had sounded a little far-fetched when you first heard it.

“You’ll be in charge of making art that reflects such views! Something that will make Sinners go, ‘Wow! Now that’s where I want to go!’”

“What’s in it for me?” You had asked.

“Well you’ll have your own room, and your own little studio too! I’m sure it’s much bigger than the one you already have. Plus we have a bar, and good company!”

You turned your head to the small crowd of demons a few feet away. A pornstar, a gambler, a snake guy with weird little walking eggs, and a really creepy man in a red coat that shot you a wide smile with eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul.

This was good company?

You contemplated her words, thinking deeply. Did you really need to leave the studio you were already a part of? You already had a room and place to paint, anyway.

Charlie must have noticed your hesitation to accept before quickly adding,

“Anddd you can sell your pieces here too! Plus, you can keep a hundred percent of the earnings.”

You perked up at that, the money made from your art would be... all yours? And, you’d get a breather from the drawing people having sex? That didn’t sound so bad after all!

“Deal!” You had reached out a hand, shaking hers with delight.

It had taken you a day or two to map out the interior of the hotel and figure out what could go where. You began to slowly brainstorm, what could make a sinner stare at a canvas and want to redeem themselves?

During your time on earth, you studied many artists through history. Most notably however, were those from the Renaissance. You remembered walking through the Sistine Chapel when you were younger,

staring at awe of the paintings of winged angels and heavenly skies.

You perked at that thought. That was it! The inspiration for your paintings, an ethereal perspective on what one would find in heaven. The feelings of bliss and care-free joy.

You spent your first few days in an undisturbed area of the hotel, it was a large room on the farthest side of the lobby. It must’ve been a guest room at one point, but other than a bed and few cushions that the ‘Radio Demon’ had placed for you, it was empty.

It was quiet enough that you could sit there, undisturbed, as you drew upon your memories and vast knowledge of histories in art as you slowly began to bring your ideas to life. Slowly, the room also took form into being yours, personal knick-knacks and stacks upon stacks of blank canvases waiting to bring your visions to life.

At the end of every day, you'd come out with your hands covered in charcoal and paint, your hard work on full display.

You had even grown closer to the other residents in the hotel, beginning to see them as more than their initial appearance. Even Alastor, who still kind of gave you the creeps, you had regarded as someone you could speak to without hesitation.

You’d sit on the couches with Angel Dust, drowning in popcorn as you watched whatever was on TV for the night. Sometimes, you’d sit with Husk at the bar as you listened to his stories from his days at the casino and as an Overlord.

It was there, when Charlie had summoned the courage to call her father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, to come visit the hotel and decide on getting her that meeting with the higher powers in Heaven.

Upon hearing about Lucifer's impending visit, you felta mixture of nerves and excitement. You've heardstories about him-his charisma, his power--but you never expected to meet him, let alone showcase your art to him. Would he even like them? He's no doubt seen much more beautiful sights.

As preparations for Lucifer's visit got more chaotic by the minute, you found yourself back in your Atelier, quickly cleaning up your room and berating yourself for any little mistakes you found in your paintings. Each stroke of the brush carried with it a sense of urgency, a desire to impress not just your friends at the hotel, but also the King of Hell himself.

The current piece you were working on was your most intense one yet. It depicted that of an almost nude man, flying high in the skies. His back was faced towards you, his face hidden from view. He was faced towards the sun, which bathed him in a warm glow. Arms outstretched, knees curled in, it seemed as if the angel was going to give the sun a large bear-hug.

It wasn’t until you heard loud commotion in the lobby did you realize Lucifer had arrived. Quickly dropping the brush you were holding, you sneaked down the stairs and quickly neared the archway of the lobby.

Peaking your head out, you canned the large room. Until your eyes locked in a pale figure. Lucifer.

He was beautiful, definitely held the looks of an angel that fell from heaven. His light blonde hair curled elegantly around his face. The candles from the chandelier above basked him in an ethereal glow, as though he could replace the sun itself. Just like the angel from your painting.

His eyes reminded you mostly of a snake. Calculating and cold, but holding so much wisdom and depth. There was a slight sadness there as well, as though itate at him slowly, consuming his soul. It was masked incredibly well though, and you only caught a glimpse before it disappeared.

His attitude toward his daughter made your heartmelt, it was obvious he cared about her in the way heacted and spoke to Charlie, even if his absence didn't speak so fondly of him.

As Lucifer and Alastor butted heads, you quickly scurried back to your room. You had hoped to finish your work-in-progress by the time he arrived, but the struggle to get those damn angel wings to be anatomically correct was a pain.

You hurriedly continued your work, trying to calm your nerves by busying yourself with the painting in front of you.

Charlie's voice broke you out of your concentration soon after, multiple footsteps closing in on where your room lay. You shot up from your seat, and stood up straight, ready to meet the man of the hour.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with apprehension as they approached your make-shift gallery.

Charlie, Vaggie, and— wow, he looked so much better up close— Lucifer stepped through the doorway.

“Dad, this is the newest addition to our staff! They are in charge of helping to inspire our future guests through the power of art!" Charlie proclaimed with glee, pulling you by the arm towards her father.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. I apologize for being so messy, I was just finishing up another painting." You had greeted him softly.

"Don't worry, you look great," He assured, a gleam in his eyes, "and the pleasure is all mine, anyone who is willing to help my little girl is someone worth meeting,"

You stood there for a moment. Unsure of where to go next, before you felt a slight nudge from Charlie that pulled you back to reality, "Why don't we take a look at your paintings? I promise you, Dad, they are amazing!" She squealed softly.

Beckoning Lucifer forward, you took him through each painting. You described your feelings for each piece, and what made you choose them for the hotel.

You rambled on and on, and Lucifer never said anything, he just listened as you spoke.

Which made you nervous, what was he thinking? Did he like them, or was he just waiting for you to stop talking so he could quickly escape to something of more interest to him? The thought made sweat dribble down your forehead.

To your surprise, Lucifer's reaction to your art was not what you expected. Instead of dismissing it as mere frivolity, he studied each piece with genuine interest, his expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He mostly stayed quiet, but once in awhile would throw in a joke here and there if he noticed anything of interest in the paintings.

His goofy nature that you caught onto watching him earlier was barely evident though, unlike when he was trying to impress his daughter.

After finishing the small tour, you turned to him in anticipation. Your hands nervously rubbing together, as you shot a glance to Charlie, and she gave you an uncertain look. You both held the same question in your gaze: What is he thinking?

"These paintings.." Lucifer began, his voice low and melodic, "Are different than most i've seen down here, not just some scandalous display, but with real meaning. They evoke emotions long buried, memories of a time before.. all this."

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes.

The one he was staring at in particular was a recreation of The Garden of Eden by Jan Breghal, a painting that depicted the place where humanity was birthed, and where it fell.

“Does it look like.. how you remembered?" You had asked slowly, if anyone could validate the truth in your work, it would be him.

"Actually, this is much prettier. The real deal doesn't do your painting justice," He replied, "It was so boring, just green on green."

Also," He added, "An unfortunate lack of ducks. Humanity should be grateful that I got them out of that forest, so they could see something actually worthwhile.. and with ducks."

You giggled softly at his words, have you ever met someone that seemed to love ducks as much as him?

As Lucifer continued to explore the room, you couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered on certain paintings, his fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence. It was as if he saw something in your art that no one else did, something profound and personal.

Perhaps your choice of baby-faced angels, and ethereal landscapes brought back memories of his time in Heaven. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.

When Lucifer finally turned to you, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. "You have a rare gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To create beauty in a place like this... it's truly remarkable."

He looked at you for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. He was Lucifer, he knew exactly what you meant. It's what drove him to manipulate Eve to eat from the Tree of Life in the first place.

Was he finally getting a glimpse of the good free will brought to humanity? Was there actually meaning in his past actions that sent him to the depths of Hell?

His gaze narrowed in on the canvas behind you, and he slipped past you. "What is this?" He asked with intrigue, pointing towards your unfinished painting.

“My final piece. I've been working on it for days, but I just can't get the wings right.. believe it or not, i've never actually seen angel wings in person." You said that last bit as a joke.

His smile sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For the King of Hell, it was surprisingly warm, and kind.

Then an idea struck you, but you tried to desperately to push it down. Except it seemed like the only time you could ask someone with angel wings to let you use them as a reference. How many fallen angels were in Hell, anyway?

"I'm so sorry if this is out of line, but. could I, um, borrow you for a little bit? I've just been having trouble drawing the wings correctly and you, well, have them?”

His eyes widened, and his chest puffed slightly at your question. He shot you a toothy grin, “Paint me? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! I have the perfect figure for such a thing.”

Behind him, Charlie rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too, you should've known he'd have no problem with it, he was the embodiment of pride after all.

He plopped down on a stool before you, and removed his overcoat. Beneath what seemed to be a red and white gatsby vest that hugged his frame perfectly. Jeez, he was almost too good looking.

He stretched out his large wings, folding the otherfour behind him, only revealing the two much largerones. They were breathtaking, truly. They looked so fluffy too!

You guided him on the exact position you needed them to be in, before making your way to the canvas and getting to work.

Assuring the group you only needed to get a visual on the canvas, the actual work you would do on your own. Slowly, you traced the frame of his wings, etching out the soft lines of his feathers and the curvatures of its form.

You could only imagine how soft those feathers were and what it would be like to curl around them like a pillo-

You shook your head to rid those thoughts. Why were you thinking such things about Lucifer like that? It's not like he would even want to let you go anywhere near him or his wings.

Would he?

You continued your painting, trying not to meet his gaze as you would occasionally peak your head from behind the large canvas to get another good look at his wings.

There was a moment when you two did lock eyes, and he sent a half-lidded smirk in your direction. Thankfully the large object between you two helped hide your growing blush. He was obviously just trying to get you worked up, you assured yourself. Just like he did with Alastor. In a different way, of course.

"This reminds me of when Charlie was younger" Lucifer began, filling the silence, "We sat for a good few hours trying to get a family portrait painted and she would just not sit still!”

“Dad.. please, not right now." Charlie growled out in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. Vaggie only smiled beside her, listening intently as Lucifer filled everyone in on her younger years.

“lt got to the point where I had to summon her favorite toy to get her to stop squirming, everything was smooth sailing after that.

"And what was her favorite toy?" You inquired softly behind the canvas

“A rubber duck! Like the ones you play with in the bath? She could not get enough of it whenever it squeaked. One time the squeaker broke, and I went to my workshop and crafted her a magical one that meowed instead! Haha!"

Okay, this family really has a thing for ducks!

“She hated it, but that only inspired me to keep making more. Sometimes, we'd sit together on the work bench, and I would just come up with ideas like confetti-spitting, or color changing ducks. She wasn't too good at speaking at that time, so every time she'd laugh that was my clue that she liked it!"

It was sweet, the way he rambled about his daughter. He never spoke of himself or his accomplishments, despite embodying the sin of pride. It was almost like his only pride was his best creation, Charlie.

He continued, the room full of jokes and laughter, even from Vaggie, regarding Charlie's life as a youngling. You listened intently to his stories, his voice dripping with amusement as he recounted story after story.

lt was so sappy and you loved it. Which made you grumble quietly to yourself, why did you have to have a thing for DILFS?! Concentrate on the painting!

After a moment, Lucifer's eyes turned back to the paintings around him, his gaze scanning each painting once more. "I've noticed that you seem to have a repetition in your work.. not that that's a bad thing!" He quickly corrected.

“But in all of your paintings featuring angels, there's always a swan swimming or resting nearby. Do they hold any significance, or are they just a passion for you?"

You looked up from the canvas, and also traced the angelic figures across the room. He was right, with the images of the divine beings also came the appearance of the large, white water fowl. Lying lazily beside the angels, or swimming across pools of water as the care-free beings danced and frolicked.

You contemplated for a moment, before speaking truthfully.

“I just think Swans are elegant and ethereal creatures. They embody the purest of souls, untouched by the taint of sin that consumes the world, just like how their feathers remain untouched from the waters they glide on"

Lucifer's eyes lit up slightly, drinking up your words.

“Plus," You continue, "they mate for life, and allow themselves to just.. decay once their significant other departs from the world. It's very romantic, and love is one of the purest emotions in the world."

Lucifer wasn't looking at you when your eyes met his again, his stare was far off. Past the room entirely, as your words echoed through him. There it was again, the glimpse of sadness that he tried to hide so painfully well.

“Does such love like that exist?," he murmured so softly you had to strain your ears.

There was a few moments of deathly silence before Charlie piped up, asking her father something about heaven. You tried to listen, but your mind was stuck on his words. Lucifer was in heaven once, and he still didn't fully believe in such things?

If there weren't others in the room, perhaps you would’ve asked him.

It took a few more minutes before you were able to wrap up fully, but you had no regrets of asking this man for help, the angel on the canvas actually looked like he had wings, not just stumps of white tuft.

You got up from your seat and walked towards him, noticing that Charlie and her girlfriend were not present anymore. It was just you and Lucifer in theroom now.

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty. You really helped me out here, and it'll go a long way to make the hotel look even better"

“Please, call me Lucifer. The formalities are only for subjects, not friends," he replied, "l did really enjoy getting to see your paintings, you are quite a phenomenal artist. I wasn't lying when I said your work was different from the rest. If only you were around for those family portraits."

You were so taken aback by his praise that you only shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. Even though, coming from the King of Hell, it was.

Glancing behind him, you saw Charlie and Vaggie whispering to each other in the hallway outside of the door. You assumed they probably wanted to finish up so they could get him to agree to the meeting with Heaven.

lgnoring his previous statement of formalities— he was the king, you thought, you weren't going to just pat him on the back and say 'see ya! —you lowered your head and bent down to curtsy, just like you were taught when you were younger, placing your hand slightly in front of you.

Usually, you'd use that hand to shake or grasp the other person's, but it felt wrong to treat this powerful angel like any other man.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of fingers gliding across your hand. In confusion, you looked up at those golden eyes and that charming smile. Trying to get a glimpse of what he was thinking.

His hand gripped yours gently, and with a bow of his own, lowered his lips, and pressed a soft kiss your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you feared to blink, soaking in his beauty for as long as you could before he had the chance to pull away. You wanted to say something, but your tongue was refusing to work as your mouth opened and closed silently.

When he finally released your hand, he adjusted his hat and turned towards the door. Leaving you standing there, your face burning hot

He cleared his throat, and turned his head slightly, his eye catching yours. A playful smile dancing on his lips.

“l look forward to our next portrait together, hopefully where I am the motivation behind your strokes. Not just these dull wings."

And with his words hanging in the air, you were left alone, with the growing itch to press your face into a pillow and squeal.

——————

awww man, my first fic! I was trying to make this more dating-centric, but i couldn’t stop writing for their first meeting and it got too long haha! If y’all like this one enough, i’ll make a dating version!

let me know what you think 🙏 i reallyyyy appreciate all comments and criticisms!!

wonderful art i commissioned by DawnDrawnS on twitter! <3

#Hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hellverse #OOC Lucifer?#He just ain’t as goofy #But I HC he’s only like that around Charlie :)#fanfiction #writing

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oceantornadoo · 2 months

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toxic but in love fwb!simon with some hurt/comfort

“i know your gala is important, si, but can’t you come? just this once i just want-“ you were wringing your hands, twisting them into unfamiliar shapes as you argued with simon, your situationship. you two were always like this, pushing and pulling at the boundaries of your relationship. moon and tide, destined to move each other but never close enough. “we’re not dating an’ i have a work thing. can’t come.” he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head so he couldn’t see the pleading look on your face. instead, he pushed himself off your couch and reached for his jacket by the door. the silence in the air turned sour, some dark ugly thing created by him. his heart was a dead thing inside his chest, unable to muster a beat or two for you. he wanted to. a want so deep it ran in his blood, turning him cold. “fine. see you in six months or whatever.” your voice was stony, bitter. you reached for the tv remote and unpaused the show you two were watching, trying not to care about the sounds of him lacing his boots and grabbing his keys. you were done, done with this tug of war. you felt his stare drill through the side of your head as he put on his mask, the final bit to his ensemble. he might think that’s what got him named ghost, but it was really this, this act of playing human when he just didn’t care. he was a poltergeist in your life, knocking things out of order but refusing to show when it mattered. you were done.

one night later and here you were at your first art show, the debut of your career. dressed in your fanciest attire, second glass of champagne in your hand as you tried to network your way through the room. your feet ached from your shoes and there was an itch in your back you couldn’t quite reach, but you put on your best smile as another potential buyer went on and on about their summer in the hamptons. simon wasn’t here but it was fine. the tears you had been swallowing back for the past thirty minutes were just tears of joy at your accomplishments, nothing more. you thanked the buyer and turned the corner, finishing off your glass as you took a much needed break. suddenly a hush went over the crowd, a slight silence broken by a small quip. the room went back to normal but you went to check it out anyways, hoping it wasn’t someone making a bad comment about your work.

you arrived at the entrance and almost passed out at the sight before you. four men-no, machines, dressed in full military regalia stood in front of you. soap and gaz were already working the crowd while price was entertaining one of your donors, but your eyes were focused on ghost. ghost, who traded his balaclava for a more crowd-friendly medical mask, stood in front of you with a bouquet of carnations and a bottle of wine. you approached him slowly like you would a skittish animal, taking patient, methodical steps. “read carnations are for celebrations.” he said, almost sheepishly, as he mechanically thrust the bouquet towards you. you took it out of instinct, eyes still focused on his. “you came?” you said unbelievingly. simon was here, simon brought his friends, simon brought you gifts? he had to have been drugged or something. there was no way. “you called.” he answered, breaking out of his awkwardness. “‘m sorry for yesterday. knew i was coming, jus’ gave you a hard time. had to celebrate my girl’s first show.” your mouth dropped at that. my girl. “but…but we’re not dating?” you took a step forward, the rest of the room falling away as his gloved hand touched your cheek, brushing back the wrinkles on your forehead. “d’ya want to, lovie? was at this gala all night, thinkin’ bout how fun it would’ve been to have you there with me. makin’ fun of all those puffed up generals.” you let out a small chuckle and his back straightened, encouraged by the sound of your laughter. he loved the sounds of your laughter, your drunk giggles and your loud snorts. most especially he loved the sharp barks of surprise you made, the ones you gave when something or someone made you happy without expecting it. like now. “yes. if you’re sure.” the foggy emotions in your head were finally clearing, letting in the sun. his warm eyes caressed your face, pride evident in his face. “‘m sure.” he sealed it with a kiss to your forehead, not wanting to be unprofessional at your work event. simon felt something in his chest. maybe a heartbeat. maybe he had one after all.

—

thought of the “you came? you called” tiktok audio with this one. currently on my period so y’all will only be getting emotional stuff for the next couple of days 🫶

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #fluff #ghost call of duty #fwb simon #tornadothoughts #cod 141 #toxic simon riley

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ferrariregina · 8 months

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dangerous liaisons | ln4 × sainz!reader

pairing: lando norris × sainz!reader

warning: 16+, implication of sex, slight mention of manipulation

summary: your brother, carlos didn't care about what you did at the paddock when accompanying him at his races as long as you stayed away from the drivers and their flirty antics. little did he know of your late-night rendezvous with his best friend, lando.

"stay out of trouble and stay away from the drivers," your elder brother carlos frequently muttered before dragging you to another one of his races. as long as you generally maintained a low profile, away from the impulsive pranks and flirtatious antics of the adrenaline-charged racers, he didn't care much about what you did at the paddock. carlos was confident about your sensible nature. little did he know, you had an affinity for bending the rules.

how ironic it was, that while he feared you falling for some ladies' man, you already had his best friend lando wrapped around your finger. funny, how he never noticed, not even when lando's eyes began following you around like a hawk watching its prey, or when his laughter rang out loudest at your jokes.

carlos, as much as you loved him, was just as clueless as any other old-fashioned protective sibling. the existence of your secret relationship with lando was something he probably couldn't even fathom.

after all, you and lando were experts at covering your tracks. the late-night rendezvous, those whispered conversations, the knowing smiles, and those oh-so-many incidents in lando's room before the race. carlos didn’t have a whiff.

just like a race car driver, you knew how to play with fire. manipulation was an art and you were an artist. the way you played lando, how you had him wrapped around your finger. he was completely unaware, thinking it was he who had the upper hand.

you grinned as you watched lando strut towards you from across the paddock. he stopped before he reached you, glancing surreptitiously at your unassuming brother before taking the final steps. your heart rate may have jumped just a bit.

"hey," lando dropped his voice to a whisper as he nudged you lightly with his elbow.

you smiled back at him casually as if nothing was going on. "hey yourself," you replied in an equally low voice.

carlos was nonchalant, busy ribbing one of the other drivers about a mistake he'd made in the last race. good old carlos. blind to the world around him.

"later okay?" lando murmured before he disappeared back into the crowd.

you simply nodded, knowing very well what he was insinuating. the adrenaline rush of the race, the shared dangerous secret, carlos blissfully ignorant of it all.

later, you found yourself in lando's room. amidst the smell of worn leather and motor oil, your heart fluttered erratically as he ran his fingers through your hair, his cerulean gaze fixed on you, filled with silent promises and unspoken words. the walls of the room, if they could talk, would recount a tale of burning desires and smothered moans. it was your refuge, a place where you defied your brother's rule, deeply woven into the sweet secrecy of your relationship with lando.

you found solace in the mischief of lando's smile and comfort in his musky scent during the intimate encounters in his room. in a world full of roaring engines, sweaty racers and heated competitions, you found your sanctuary in lando's mystifying gaze.

every race day, when carlos was obsessively engrossed in the mechanical symphony of engines, you and lando stole some more of these moments.

moments varying from quick pecks on the cheeks to passionate expressions of affection behind closed doors. somehow, carlos remained oblivious to the racing heartbeats and the unexplained disappearances.

perhaps his ignorance was a blessing in disguise. for though he was a good brother, he was also a fiercely protective one. such a revelation would surely set off an explosive reaction; maybe even affect his performance on the track or, worse, their friendship. but for now, you enjoyed living on the edge, a secret lover immersed in the adrenaline-soaked world of race tracks and high-speed romance.

for now, you reveled in the thrill of breaking rules and living life at your own pace, knowing full well that at some point, the race would have to end. and when it did, you hoped that the harsh reality wouldn’t shatter the beautiful illusion you lived in with lando.

a/n: the singaporegp made all the creative juices flow out of me hence these many content. can't promise I'll be posting this much after tomorrow but make sure to leave your opinions! I'm still open for requests!

xoxo

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foone · 1 year

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A good teleport should be barely noticeable. One moment, there's no one there, and the next moment, there is. No flashes of light, no sound, you could literally blink and miss it. You often don't even see them at first, because the human eye is watching for movement, and a well-done teleport has no movement, just an instant change of nothing becoming something. It's a subtle art, the kind practiced endlessly by magicians, and that goes doubly for anyone trained as a war wizard. You want to turn the tides of a battle with arcane powers, or slip an assault team in behind enemy lines, to decapitate (sometimes literally) the opposing force? You have to be discreet. You have to perfectly balance the spell so that your strike force can slip in unnoticed, with a bit of magical help, and teleportation is one of the trickiest kinds of magic to make unnoticeable. The universe doesn't like it when nothing becomes something, and vice versa. It tends to notice, and people around tend to notice as well. So there's really an art to a good teleportation spell, and you sometimes see the grand masters of the field give demonstrations before crowds of less experienced magicians, often to roaring applause.

This was not one of those teleportation spells. This was a C-, barely passing, "SEE ME AFTER CLASS" written on your homework type of teleportation. The kind you do when you don't have time to prepare, when you don't give a damn who notices your arrival, because the one thing that's of highest importance is that you Stop Being Here and start Being Somewhere Else. This teleportation spell would give anyone magically sensitive headaches for days, and you would have trouble missing the bright flash and deafening noise that accompanies a body's-worth of air having to get out of the way in an instant. If you could hear the fabric of space, it rang like a bell hit with a sledgehammer when that teleport happened. Light-years away there was probably some little green men confused at why their new gravity-wave-detector appears to have told them a black hole merger just happened on the surface of a habitable planet.

And through that cacophony of light and sound and gravity, there stepped a man. He was silent for only a moment, and then screamed in terror, almost equaling the sound that had come shortly before. He ran, his rationality giving out, managing to function only at the instinctive reaction of an animal that is on fire and needs to move, now.

Because it's one thing to know, intellectually, that there are planets out there where the evaporated water from lakes and oceans collects in the lower atmosphere, and somehow condenses into visible structures of suspended water droplets, which then sometimes comes crashing down to the ground. That makes sense, in the way that you can read about sex or skydiving but it can in no way compare to experiencing the real thing (and hopefully not at the same time). There's a huge difference between knowing that there are planets with precipitation, and being in the middle of a rainstorm, because your emergency teleport dropped you on the outskirts of Seattle in the middle of the wet season.

Rudapedi Yonfer is being rained on for the first time in his life, and the master magician is terrified in much the way you would be if you opened the door to your bathroom one morning and there was a cheetah sitting in your bathtub.

#my writing #mundane kaya sona

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otdiaftg · 4 months

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The King's Men - Chapter Eight

Day: Friday, January 19th Time: 6:40 PM EST

Neil pushed the brothers from mind and followed the men into the changing room. He twisted his combination into the lock on his gear locker and pulled the door open. There was a split second of unexpected resistance, then a sharp pop of something breaking. And then—blood. It exploded in his locker, triggered by the door opening, and Neil recoiled as it cascaded over everything inside. The smell of it was so thick it clogged his throat and choked him. Neil's shock only lasted for a white-hot second before panic took over. He dove at his locker, grabbing for his uniform and gear. It was too late and he knew it, but he had to try. His jersey squelched in his hands like a swollen sponge, spurting blood all over his fingers. He dropped it and scrabbled for his helmet. His fingertips grazed hard plastic but couldn't latch on before Matt grabbed him. "No," Neil said, but Matt hauled him away from his locker. "Wait!" He dug his feet in, but the tread of his shoes were soaked and slid across the ground. The blood had hit the bottom of his locker and was now spilling onto the floor in a swiftly-spreading puddle. Hanging from the top of his locker was an empty plastic bag, rigged to tear open when the door pulled too wide. It looked big enough to hold at least two gallons; it was more than big enough to destroy every single piece of gear Neil owned. "Nicky," Andrew said, "get Coach." Nicky bolted. Neil elbowed Matt as hard as he could. Matt cursed as he lost his grip on Neil. Neil ran back to his locker, skidding a little as he got closer. He had to catch himself on the neighboring locker to keep from falling. As soon as he had his balance he frantically unloaded everything piece by piece. He couldn't tell his Home and Away jerseys apart anymore. Even the padding on his armor was wrecked. Neil picked his helmet up and turned it to watch blood slide off the hard plastic face guard. "Neil?" Matt asked. Neil dropped the helmet to the pile at his feet and punched the back of his locker. His fist hit plastic instead of metal, and Neil wrenched the broken bag off its hook. When he turned to throw it Andrew caught his wrist. Neil hadn't even heard Andrew cross the room toward him. Neil stared at him and through him, heart pounding in his temples. "It's ruined," Neil said, voice ragged with an awful rage. "It's all ruined." Wymack burst into the room with Nicky on his heels. The sight of so much blood stopped him short for a moment before he strode for Neil. "Is that yours?" "Coach, my gear," Neil said. "It's—" "It's not his." Andrew let go of Neil and went back to his own locker. "He's fine." "Peroxide," Neil said. "Does Abby have any in her office?" When Wymack just looked at him, Neil started for the door to find some himself. Wymack put an arm in his way to stop him. "I need to clean my clothes before the blood sets or I won't have anything to wear tonight." "And I need you to derail that one-track fucking mind of yours for two seconds and focus on the fact that you are covered in someone or something's blood. Are you okay?" "Andrew already said I'm fine," Neil bit out. "I'm not asking Andrew," Wymack said. "I'm asking you."

Art used with permission by Sam. Thank you @02511213942!

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stargirlrchive · 11 months

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i’ve got you ✩ miguel o’hara

masterlist

cw: miguel o’hara x fem!reader, miguel fucks you against a building 😝 smut, p in v, voyeurism (i guess), silly sex? idk - wc: 1,325

notes: inspired by this tiktok/art <3

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as the cold cement pressed against your back, your teeth clanking roughly from the cold breeze. “Relájate mi amor, I’ve got you.”

Míguel’s voice dripped with amusement, your pupils blown in excitement as his warm body kept you safe against him. Your arms clung to his neck, your nails digging into his suit as he lazily rutted against you.

It was a strange feeling and it should not have excited you as much as it did. You were so scared it turned you on, a thrill zipping up your spine as you looked down to see how high the two of you were.

Your panties dampened as his hips dug into your own, “Miguel-we can get caught.”

You let out a quiet whine as he gave a particularly hard thrust against your clothed cunt. Miguel gave a lazy shrug, “This isn’t our universe, que important.”

You let out a delirious little giggle, unable to stop the soft moans that fell from your mouth as he continued to rut against you. The thought of getting caught was only riling you up even more.

You were too scared to move, in fear that you’d fall but your legs parted for him, rolling your hips into his harshly. “Fuck! Just hurry up and put it in.”

He gave out an amused chuckle, dropping one of his hands down to the waistband of your skirt to tug playfully. His hand continued to trail lower to lift the ends of your skirt. He stared at the dampened spot that had pooled on your underwear, clamping down on his bottom lip as his cock twitched in his suit.

“You sure you won’t drop me?”

His suit disintegrated from his hand before he slipped it into your panties, making quick movements as he ran his fingers through your puffy folds.

He scoffed quietly at your comment, feeling mildly offended but decided to ignore your question. “You’re so wet, cariño.”

Your hips bucked into his hand, it was with some difficulty as he purposely kept his touch light. He enjoyed that way you were squirming against him, “Mig-fuck! Stop teasing me.”

He tsked quietly, slipping his fingers out and you whined out in protest. “Thought you wanted me to put it in already?”

Your face felt warm as he repeated your words to you, “Yeah but you’re being mean.”

There was a soft pout on your lips and Miguel lurched forward, placing a lazy kiss onto your mouth. Your skirt still bunched at your hips, your legs and thighs bare as he fully caged you in.

Something tickled your thighs and as you pulled away from his mouth to look down you realized he had let his suit disintegrate from his hips down to his thighs. A quiet amused giggle fell from your mouth as you stared at his bare cock. Hard and leaking precum.

Miguel grunted quietly, “What's so funny?”

“Just-you should see how you look from my point of view.”

Another laughed ripped from your mouth and Miguel huffed quietly, “M’about to fuck you against a 20 story building and you’re laughing at me?”

“Stop being such a baby!”

Another happy laugh bubbled for your throat and Miguel couldn’t fight the smile that twitched onto his face at the sound. His face nuzzled into your neck to inhale your scent as his hands pressed against the wall to keep himself steady.

One of your hands fell between your legs, pulling your panties to the side before pressing your thumb to your clit. A sharp hiss left your mouth, “C’mon Miguel-“

“So impatient.”

He smiled against your skin, using one hand to guide his cock to your wet heat. He knocked the head of his cock against your clit a few times, his precum spreading messily against the small bud. Loud mewls left your mouth, he knew just how much you enjoyed it when he did that.

He dragged his cock between your folds a few times before he lined himself up to your entrance. Slowly sinking into you as your legs parted farther for him. Once he was deep enough he let his hand fall beside your head again, your cunt fluttering around him as your lips parted at the feeling. He was so big, it always surprised you.

When he was sunken to the hilt, your hips lazily rolled against his. Breathless little whimpers falling from your mouth as it all became so very real to you. You were 20 stories high, and Miguel practically balls deep inside of you.

Your fingers clung onto his back, eyes closed tightly as your head thumped against the cold concrete and a little “ow!” fell from your mouth.

Miguel mumbled breathlessly, “Cuidado, don’t want you getting a concussion.”

You grunted in annoyance, “Miguel, hurry up!”

His laugh rumbled against your chest and your eyes flew open to glare up at him, “Ya voy, ya voy.”

He was unable to disguise the amusement from his voice, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he finally began to move against you.

Your face nuzzled into his neck, clinging to him as his pace increased. The thought of someone poking their head out and catching you two at any moment caused an excited thrill to tingle between your legs, your slick coating his cock as he pistoned his hips in and out of you, “Miguel-f-fuck!”

You cunt tightened around him and he let out a breathless little chuckle, “You're so dirty, ya know? Letting me fuck you out in the open, bet you wanna get caught-fuck.”

You whined out loudly as you rolled your hips into his, slipping one of the fingers that was holding your underwear to the side lower to rub insistently at your clit. Miguel’s knuckles were turning white, taut and tense as his balls tightened and his hands pressed tightly against the concrete walls.

Your cunt was so warm, a harsh comparison to the cold breeze that had settled in the random universe that the two of you jumped into.

Miguel briefly lets go of the wall to raise your hips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist and the angle allowed him to sink in deeper.

You gave out a loud cry and Miguel nuzzled your face away from his neck. He pressed his mouth to yours and lazily pried your lips open as his tongue fought with yours. His hips unrelenting and over the bustling noise of the loud city you could hear the squelching of your cunt. Swallowing his cock each time and Miguel grunted loudly into your mouth. He was swallowing all the noises leaving your plump lips eagerly.

“M’gonna cum-fuck!”

You let out a loud squeal, pulling away from Miguel’s mouth to take a breath of air. His cock twitched inside of you, his orgasm blinding him and for those few seconds Miguel actually feared he’d lose his grip and send the two of you down to the floor. Your cunt milked his cock eagerly, and feeling the thick liquid paint your insides triggered your own release.

Your cunt pulsing roughly as your hips spasmed against him. His name falling from your mouth like a prayer. Both of your chest heaved roughly. Miguel pressed his face into your neck to press lazy kisses on your skin, trying to calm the two of you down.

“Can't believe we just did that.”

A nervous laugh fell from your mouth, smiling coyly up at Miguel as he slipped out of you. His hips raised enough to let your skirt fall down to cover your legs again, “Gonna steal you away for this more often.”

You were about to agree but the two of you caught onto a quiet voice coming from the side of you, muffled but still close enough to make out the words, “Um, I think there are people having sex on the side of my building.”

translations:

relájate mi amor - relax my love

que importa - what does it matter / who cares

cariño - (term of endearment) cute - idk how to translate it directly to english so yeah 👍🏼

cuidado - careful

ya voy, ya voy - there i go, there i go

#miguel o’hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara smut #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider man #spider man 2099

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kissami · 3 months

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UN ÁNGEL- Cloud strife Headcanons

sum. Need boyfriend headcanons for cloud? SAY LESS.

warning: modern cloud, oc cloud srry I love him soft, might be a little self insert because of the stuff I like but that’s all

femreader! with she/her pronouns

song of the day: igual que un ángel - Kali uchis

boyfriend Cloud who knows your order by heart at your guys’ favorite coffee shop and no matter how many times he does it, it never fails to make you blush and impressed.

Boyfriend Cloud who never fails to make you ticklish especially during intimate moments that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

Boyfriend Cloud who sometimes can’t handle all the attention and affection so he distances himself but can’t help but miss you even more.

Boyfriend Cloud who loves picking you up from university on his motorcycle to show off especially knowing that Reno would be there. He is still very bitter that Reno was your first kiss in fifth grade and not him because he was too busy helping collect Tifa’s shopkins from the grass at recess.

Boyfriend Cloud who loves going to Aerith’s flower shop because he helps her make your bouquets extra pretty just for you. #bestfriendprivileges

boyfriend Cloud who has recurring nightmares of losing you to Sepiroth. No not the “I’ll steal your girl,” kind of way. More like he murders you and Aerith at the same time. Perhaps something from a past life?

Boyfriend Cloud who loves watching studio ghibli movies with you especially ponyo and spirited away. Let’s not get started on his love for Princess Mononoke.

Boyfriend Cloud who goes with you at the bookstore for now on to carry your books because he found out that a guy put his number inside of a book after catching it for you when you accidentally dropped it from your stack pile.

Boyfriend Cloud who’s COMPLETELY and UTTERLY obsessed with you. Not the annoying obsession, but the obsession that makes your tummy in knots and the cute things he loves to do for you. Whether it’s making you lunch for school/ work, leaving cute notes on your door handles, or literally dropping everything instantly for you when you call.

Boyfriend Cloud who hid in the bathroom after you guys had…yk…and too embarrassed to come out. If only he knew you were on the bed breathless and wanting more.

Boyfriend Cloud who baby trapped you. With a cat. Her names Honey and every time there’s an argument he uses her as an excuse to visit you. “We can’t let our cat have separated household problems,she needs both of her parents so please answer the door.”

Boyfriend Cloud who had no idea him getting a lip piercing would be in the way of kissing you for it to heal correctly. He ran out of the piercing shop and only agreed to come back to get a matching eyebrow piercing with you instead.

Boyfriend Cloud who not only made you a playlist, but this mf burned a cd for you, made tifa draw a one in a million piece of art for you for the cover, has a sticker of it on his car, and even bought a necklace that had the Spotify playlist code. So whenever a person flirts with him, he’ll hold it up and say, “scan this and read the description. That’ll be my answer for you.”

Boyfriend Cloud who didn’t understand why you were so obsessed with kpop, especially BTS. Him and jungkook have beef apparently. He also buys you albums all the time and even sacrifices himself to let you use his phone to make sure you guys get tickets to concerts.

Boyfriend Cloud who WILL call your work to call off. He doesn’t care, cuddles are more important.

Boyfriend Cloud who forces you to drink water whenever you hang. You always complain about headaches and he makes sure when you’re with him you’re hydrated.

Boyfriend Cloud who is addicted to Dr.Pepper. You gave him some when you two went to watch Barbie in the summer and it’s his holy grail. “We need to head to Costco, I ran out of my pepper.”

#kissami #x reader #final fantasy 7 #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #cloudstrife #cloud strife x you #cloud x reader #ff7 cloud #final fantasy cloud #headcanon #bf headcanons #ff7 fanfic #ff7 fic #ff7 #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii #final fantasy x reader

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babyleostuff · 6 months

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THE NIGHT WE MET

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: the one where you meet a handsome stranger in the art gallery who is as beautiful as the paintings

[ pairing: idol!minghao x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2k

warnings: a couple of swear words ]

song recommendation: the night we met by lord huron

Your steps echoed through the empty hall, as you entered the last room of the building. It was too early for anyone to be rummaging through the art gallery, even for you. It seemed like the universe wanted you to be here, though. At least that's what you were telling yourself. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that school had been putting you in an emotional spiral for some time now and you wanted to be anywhere but there.

So, as usual, you ran away to the place you always knew would cheer you up.

Looking around the room filled with paintings all covered in beautiful pastel colours, depicting people who looked like they didn't have a single care in their lives, you stopped at your favourite, the biggest out of the collection. Every time you looked at it you felt a sense of peace and... carefree? You weren't sure why, but the girl on the swing looked so free, like she could do anything. Like she was truly happy.

You’d do anything to feel like she did for just a moment.

"Don't you think The Swing is a bit overrated?" You were so lost in thought that you didn't hear someone approaching you. You huffed, shaking your head. If he was going to insult the painting, why did he say anything at all? Jerk.

“I wouldn't say that,” you stated, not looking at the stranger. You could tell it was a guy and he sounded like he was around the same age as you, maybe a little older. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting under your skin, so you continued to stare at the painting.

He chuckled lightly, as if he sensed that you were annoyed, which made you dislike him even more. Why did he have to speak at all, couldn't he look at the painting and just walk away like any other normal person?

"What do you like so much about it, then?"

"And what about it bothers you so much?" You muttered. A moment of silence passed and you started to wonder if you weren't being too harsh. "I'm sorry if, um... I offended you in any way. That wasn't my intention, really," he said, and you could tell from his voice that he meant it. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. If this continued, your social interactions would drop to zero.

"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to be so rude. I'm just not in the mood," you said and turned to the stranger. You were going to smile so you wouldn't look like a total bitch, but instead of doing that, your lips twisted into an 'o' shape.

This stranger, or rather the most beautiful guy you've ever seen, was looking at you with a curious expression.

"I-I'm tired lately and it turns out I'm not very nice to other people either," you wanted to hit yourself because that was literally the stupidest thing you could have said. "And it turns out I'm not very nice to other people either"? Well done.

However, the stranger didn't look like he cared too much about what you said, he just nodded as if he totally understood what you meant. "I feel the same way sometimes," he admitted, turning his gaze towards the painting. "That's why I'm here now," he added.

You had trouble taking your eyes off his profile without looking like a total creep, but you honestly didn't think guys like that even existed. He looked perfect in every way. And it wasn't like you fell in love with every handsome guy you saw - love at first sight was overrated, but there was something about him that made you unable to take your eyes off him.

"I'm guessing you're not from around here?" You asked. For a second, surprise crossed his face and his eyebrows furrowed, and you began to wonder if maybe you shouldn't have asked. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have,” you said, and with every second he didn't say anything, you became more and more convinced that he was the one pissed now.

"No no. It’s okay" he said and looked back at you. His dark eyes, hidden behind glasses that you were sure were fake, landed on you. "It's just not often that I meet people who don't know who I am," he smiled and adjusted the sleeve of his white cardigan that had slipped off his shoulder. You gulped as your eyes landed on his sculpted arm, his white sleeveless shirt doing nothing to cover it.

"Should I know who you are then?" You asked, taking a quick breath to calm yourself down. You were sure you had never seen him in your life, though, not even on the internet. Was he some sort of influencer? Maybe a YouTuber?

He chuckled, ruffling his black hair as if you had said something funny. "God, that sounded so pretentious. No, of course you don't need to know who I am."

But now you wanted, no - needed to know who this handsome stranger was, the one who decided to talk to you, a random person in the art gallery. Although it wasn't like he had much of a choice considering you were completely alone here.

"Let's say I'm an artist."

"That doesn't tell me much. What type of artist?" You asked curiously. He looked at you, amused. "I create art on stage."

"Can't you just tell me who you are?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Now you were the one who couldn't stop from laughing. You guessed you wouldn't get more than that from him. "But it's not like Magic Mike, with you getting naked on stage and all?" Where the fuck did you get that from?

Great, it was your official self-embarrassment day. “Not that there's anything wrong with that,” you cleared your throat sheepishly.

You expected him to give you some sort of sarcastic remark, but instead his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he looked just as embarrassed as you were. "No, but I dance too."

“Ah, that's where the painted nails and earrings come from,” you pointed to his ears and he touched them as if to make sure his gold jewellery was still there. “Yeah.”

For the first time, a comfortable silence fell between you and you honestly didn't want it to end. You no longer cared whether he liked the painting or not, but you didn't want him to leave. You felt a certain comfort in his presence that you couldn't quite explain.

"I like this painting because when I look at it I feel calm. Like I don't have any worries and the world is covered in nothing but pink colours, making everything more beautiful," you said, getting lost in your thoughts again. "I wish life was sometimes just about swinging on a swing.” You felt his eyes on you, but he didn't say anything, as if he was thinking about what you just said.

"I never looked at it that way," he said, tilting his head.

“Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective,” you smiled. For some reason you couldn't stop it when he was next to you.

“I'm Xu Minghao,” he extended his hand towards you, which you shook lightly. It was a miracle that you even managed to say your name without fainting, his hand still in yours. "So assuming you're not from here, how long will you be staying in town?” You asked, finally letting go of his hand, no matter how much you wanted to keep holding it.

But then… Why did he seem to hesitate when he let go of yours, too? Your stomach seemed to do somersaults and your heart was beating twice as fast.

"I’m leaving tomorrow," he admitted, though you couldn't tell from his voice whether he was happy or sad about it. Looking at him, his thoughtful face that didn't look as content as yours when you looked at The Swing, you had a sudden urge to hug him.

He had a comforting presence, but for some reason you felt that he himself needed some comfort.

“Um, would you like to maybe,” you held out one of your headphones towards him. "We can listen to something,” you proposed. He nodded, so you walked up to him, heart beating like crazy, with the headphone still in your hand. “Do you have a specific request, Minghao?” You asked.

“Let’s listen to the last song you listened to.”

Your hands touched again as you handed him the earbud, and you could have sworn Minghao let out a nervous breath then. It turned out the wire was too short for you to keep a big distance, so you stood side by side, shoulders brushing. You unlocked your phone and played your most recent song, rewinding it to the beginning.

The night we met.

“How ironic,” you muttered, as the first rays of rising sun poured through the gallery windows. Minghao smiled gently, looking down at you, with the softest gaze anyone has ever looked at you.

You felt like the whole world stopped at that moment - it was just you, Minghao, and the paintings, which for the first time weren't the most beautiful thing in the room.

I had all and then most of you,

Some and now none of you,

Take me back to the night we met.

You wondered how long it would take you to forget Minghao and he would become just a memory of the handsome stranger, like a ghost that wouldn’t stop haunting you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do,

Haunted by the ghost of you.

“You have no idea how glad I am that I came here,” he said so quietly you thought you misheard him. "Actually, no one knows I'm here," he snorted. "My friends will kill me when I come back," Minghao shook his head. You felt like you had crossed every line of being a stranger, so you laid your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes.

When the night was full of terrors,

And your eyes were filled with tears,

When you had not touched me yet,

Oh, take me back to the night we met.

“I'm sure they'll understand,” you said, just as quietly as he did. “Everyone needs to get away for a while now and then.”

You stood like that for the next three minutes, your head on Minghao’s shoulder, his hand dangerously close to yours, connected by the cable of your headphones, staring at the painting that meant two different things to the both of you. You dragged out the moment when the song had to end, you wanted to stop this moment forever. "When do you have to go back?"

"I still have one," he looked at his watch. "two hours. Then I have to leave.” You nodded. No matter how much his words hurt you, you decided it was better to use the time you had left. "I know this may be a bit lame, but would you like to go for some tea?" You asked.

His face immediately lit up and his eyes sparkled as if you just gave a new toy to a child.

"You're reading in my mind. Of course I'd like to go," he beamed as he said it. Now he was even more handsome, if that was possible. "Let me guess," you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “You're a green tea type.” He chuckled, causing your shoulders to brush again.

"You are amazing." For a moment, there was no air in your lungs and no words in your mouth. How were you supposed to respond to something like that?

“Let's go then, Mr. Xu,” he smiled and extended his hand to you and you gladly took it.

This time, however, you didn't let it go.

Take me back to the night we met.

[...]

You opened Twitter because you knew that if you wanted to find someone, it was there. You clicked on the first video that appeared to you. "I don't understand but I love you" fancam. Interesting.

You sat up more comfortably on the bed, as the first tunes of the song started playing. So he was a singer, right? What did he mean by saying he did dancing too, though?

But with every second that the video was playing, your eyes were getting bigger and bigger.

"What the fuck?"

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings

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eetherealgoddess · 12 days

Note

Can you make a fem reader whose is a martial artist with a yan bonten but she doesn’t let them get her easily

ik it's been a while y'all but don't worry bc i will be getting through your requests!!

idk much about martial arts so I’m just gonna do my best with the fighting scene. hope you enjoy!

also, why am i more inclined to write when i’m high 😩

ꨄFight For Your Lifeꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You’ve been on the run from your childhood friends❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Fight For Your Life

The platforms of your shoes slap against the wet concrete, puddles of water splashing as you ignore the rain falling on your skin. Your bloody clothes hugging against your body uncomfortably as the street lights glow amongst the dark sky, the empty buildings sitting under as you run past with squinted eyes. Your lips are apart as you take in quick breaths, though you tried to keep the panting steady. The adrenaline running through your veins made it easier to ignore the goosebumps caused by the cold air hitting your dermis and the red liquid running down your nose.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you ran from your totaled car. It was amazing how you slipped away, not expecting the driver of the car to have died on impact. You knew exactly who sent the sheep, snarling as you remember the men you couldn’t seem to escape for long. Although you made it far enough to stay in a motel a great distance away from Japan, you still had a long way to go.

I’m so tired of this shit.

It’s frustrating having to travel from place to place, continuously spending a limited amount of money just to be free from the grasp of the yakuza. If you would’ve known that you would be abducted as an adult by your childhood friends who disappeared without any warning, you wouldn’t have become close to them in the first place. To have been so devoted to them and the rest of the gang, only for them to abandon you and reappear without warning, snatching you up and treating you as property rather than a person, murdering most of your loved ones without a care of how that could affect you. Not only is the situation painful but demeaning. How could they treat you like that? No explanation for the disappearance nor the behavior, not that you needed it. Who they are now explains everything you need to know.

Ignoring the tightness of your chest became harder as you slowed your pace, halting your movements before bending over, hands on your knees. You gripped the fabric of your pants as your eyes closed, head dropping as you struggled to steady your breathing. Your tears of frustration mix with the droplets of rain, finally lifting your body and rubbing your sleeve against your eyes, only for the moisture to return.

Your eyes widen as bright lights flash behind you before you swiftly turn your body to face the car speeding toward you. The loud engine roars as the vehicle darts down the hill through the fog. You search around your surroundings for a good hiding spot amongst the empty stores. You huff before running behind a structure closest to you. You find a dumpster, cursing as you open it and climb in, ignoring your discomfort for bacteria as you cover your nose and close yourself into the darkness, praying to not feel anything crawling on you as you rub your face with both hands, smearing the blood from your nose.

You breathe in through your nose and release from your mouth, ignoring the overwhelming stench as you listen for anyone close. The pouring rain made it difficult to hear any footsteps if someone were to walk near. You closed your eyes as you pant into your cupped hands quietly. You patiently stay in your spot for what feels like a while, planning to hide in the dumpster all night long if you have to. The phone you bought when you ran from Bonten was lost in the wreck, hidden behind the broken machinery and shattered glass so you had no way to contact anyone to help, not that you knew anyone. You also didn’t know if the police would help you anyway considering Bonten has some of them wrapped around their fingers.

The top of the dumpster is snatched open, rain pouring as the sound of your screaming covers the droplets landing on the full sacks of trash. You struggle against the hold on your wrist as you’re yanked out of the hiding place, feet meeting the ground.

“The more you struggle the harder this will be for you!” The man growled, attempting to hold you in place. When he pulls you toward him with his grip tightening, you straighten your posture before pulling your head back and slamming it against his forehead causing him to release you as he grabs his head in pain. Running on nothing but adrenaline, you dash away from the man as you ignore the throbbing ache of your head, only to run in the direction of two more men speeding towards you.

“Shit!” You hiss before turning back around.

“Get her idiot or it’ll be our asses!” One of the men exclaimed on his way toward you as he faced the original male whose face is still scrunched in pain.

Just as you were about to pass the man who attacked you, he reached for you in which you dodged before continuing to make your escape. Before you could succeed, you are snatched by the collar of your top and yanked back. You gasp as you feel the sting from the sudden pressure on your neck, though your shock doesn’t last long.

“Gotcha you bit-!” He grunts and bends over, releasing you in the process when you elbow his stomach with as much strength as you could muster, so much so you release your own throated shriek. Before you could run the next man comes forth, pulling his arm back before landing a punch on your cheek. Your face hangs to the side in reflex as your palm immediately meets your cheek, eyes wide as you wince in pain.

Before he could make another move, you use your fist to back hand the man’s face before landing a punch on his cheek with the same arm, his body wobbling back as he tries to keep balance. You shove him just as the third male comes to ambush you from the side, both of you landing painfully on the ground with you at the bottom. The puddle of water mixed with dirt and grime splashes as you thrash in his hold as he grasps your wrists and forces them next to your head, squeezing as you howl in agony.

Seeing an opening all the while your face is scrunched with fresh blood oozing down your cheek, you take the opportunity to knee the man’s midsection. His eyes widen as his grip loosens, mouth hanging open with a silent scream. You make eye contact before shoving him off of you. Before you can pick yourself up, the original man places the platform of his shoe on your stomach before pressing down hard. Your nails claw at his covered ankles as he glares down at you with a smirk.

“Oh? What is this?” You watch as the color drains from the man’s face. Your own eyes widen at the realization that you had just been caught.

Your head slowly turns to the side, your own eyes meeting two pairs of purple orbs. A certain mullet haired man tsked as he stood in place, flicking the cigarette butt from his fingers before lifting the black gun held by his other hand. A blaring shot echoed in the air, your eyelids met just in time before the red liquid could splatter in your eyes.

As a result, a weight was lifted off of your stomach as you opened your eyes, watching as the other two men had an expression of bewilderment, freezing in their spots as they watched the bloody corpse drop to the ground, pieces of the brain and skull lying all around the wet ground. You stare at the situation with wide eyes as you slowly sit up, leaning on your trembling arms as you watch both males take a step back with their hands in surrender.

“Come on boys, don’t cower on us now.” The tall man says, running his fingers through his short streaked hair, a sly smile on his face as his other hand holds the black umbrella both him and his brother stood under.

“Pathetic.” Rin states before he turns on his heel, slowly walking away from the scene, Ran follows alongside. They don’t give you another glance.

Escaping your trance, you went to jump up, only for your arms to be grabbed by the two men. You thrash as your feet lifts from the ground, your biceps slightly sliding against their wet hands as the rain continues pouring. You didn’t stop your struggle even when nearing the familiar black suv that caused your heart beat to accelerate. Sweat mixed with the droplets sliding against your forehead as the pressure in your chest became more prominent the closer you got to your entrapment. You pull your arms with all your might against the growling males’ holds, attempting to use your feet to kick them, only for them to dodge and grips tighten.

“Don’t do this.” You plead, bargaining for your freedom.

“We got no choice, lady.” The guy on your left responded.

“You have to have a wife or daughter or something, guys! Please!” Your eyes burn with moisture caused by frustration, your eyebrows furrow as you glance between the men who hold you.

“Shut up!” The guy on your right hissed. “We’re doing this to keep them safe. Your well being is worth nothing to us so just accept your fate.”

Your head hangs low as you’re dragged to the car, the tinted window rolling down as a blur of white reaches your peripheral, right before the men holding you halt in front of the vehicle. You hear footsteps before a tight grip reaches your chin, forcing you to meet golden eyes that seem to glow through the rainy night. A blonde strand hanging on the left side of his face, the rest of his black locks pulled back in a messy ponytail. His empty orbs bore into you as you seem to internally cower from the strange expression.

Your discomfort increases as time goes on, the sound of the rain hitting the pavement masking the silence as you continue to hold eye contact. The corners of his lips curve upward before you can comprehend his next move. The tight grip released on your left arm before you hear a thud against the ground. Your eyes widened as you eye the injured male, turning your gaze back to the man who gives a sheepish smile, rubbing his bruised knuckles as he chuckled.

“You really know how to make a guy angry, Y/n.” He scratched the back of his neck before looking to the side as his smile dropped. “Running off like that wasn’t cool.”

You scoff before shaking your head angrily. You couldn’t believe his deflecting. They treat you like a pet. It’s degrading and abusive. The lack of respect as close as they were before is disgusting. Before you could respond, the cocking of a gun snatched your attention away from the tiger tattooed male in front of you and towards a certain pink haired man who now stood outside of the car. The barrel of his gun aimed right at your torso, your body tightening as you lose your breath.

His scars stretch as he snarls shifting his aim quickly before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rings out, echoing throughout the empty street. Your breathing slows down as the pounding of your heart is the only sound you can hear, followed by a ringing in your ears as the final grip releases you to the ground. The water pellets fall on your face as you feel pressure on your front as you stare at the sky, a warm liquid forming under your torso as your lips hang slightly apart.

You barely hear the car doors opening as your hearing goes in and out, five figures hovering over you as they observe your figure. Crouching down closest to your face, the platinum haired male who gives you an expression of emptiness uses a hand to caress the left side of your face, thumb tracing your temple. He leans over, his warm breath connecting with your ear.

“If you won’t let me have you, death will.”

As your hearing comes back and vision clears you watch as the men with solemn gazes turn and leave your vicinity. Mikey pulls back before picking himself up and following his men. You listen as you hear footsteps fade and the car doors open and close. The engine roars before they speed away, leaving you on the wet street.

You were in slight shock considering you couldn’t believe you had just been shot. You knew they were capable of it but the thought of yourself being murdered is unsettling. You stay on the ground for a moment, relieving yourself of the panic attack you just had before you slowly sit up and eye your surroundings. Seeing nobody in the area, you look down and pull your shirt up, grabbing the busted sack that once held fake blood from your cushioned vest. Staring at the sack you took a deep breath before releasing.

This is perfect because now they think I’m dead.

Although you were surprised about the gunshot, you wore a bulletproof vest, along with the fake blood sacks since you had escaped because you knew that there was a chance you might die trying to leave them. Your hands couldn’t help the trembling as you eyed the bloody puddle under you. Seeming to escape the trance, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk in the opposite direction from where you came.

The car’s atmosphere was thick with tension and grief. Although all the men held the same stoic and zoned out expression, their emotions were going haywire with their decision to kill you. Do they regret it? No. They don’t regret it as your punishment nor as a blockage for you to be able to move on without them. Do they wish you had just listened so it wouldn’t come to this? Indeed. Kazutora wipes the stray tear as his head turns to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he leans back in his seat with crossed arms and a crossed leg. Sanzu slowly cleans the gun used to take your life, wiping in slow yet rough strokes, all the while trying to focus on everything but the memory of your body landing on the ground. Now that his anger was gone, he lacked the adrenaline he had originally.

The Haitani brothers sit next to each other in the back of the black suv, Ran smoking a cigar with a tired expression as well as Rin removing a flask from his suit’s jacket and throwing his head back for a good sip. Mikey sat in the passenger’s seat, eyeing through the windshield with nothing but an empty void filling the inside of his chest. He feels nothing and everything at the same time. You used to be so close to all of them. It was a shame but he knew that he couldn’t allow you to live without him. You chose this. This is your fault.

A sudden ringing interrupts everyone as Mikey grabs the phone and hands it to Kakucho who uses one hand to direct the wheel.

“Hello?”

“You what?!”

Everyone’s eyebrows furrow at his reaction. He lowers the phone before handing it to Mikey with a concerned expression. Mikey sets the phone on his ear as he listens to the other person.

“Boss, her body is gone. She’s nowhere to be found.” Kokonoi says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the busted sack. Using a gloved hand to pick it up before it hangs from his fingers and the remaining liquid leaks.

“I have a feeling she faked her death and has escaped.”

Mikey stares ahead with a more focused expression, his eyes slightly wider than usual as he narrows his gaze.

“Find her, now.”

You eye the two lines with wide eyes. Your hands tremble as your fingers barely hold up the test.

“I-I’m pregnant?!” You hiss. You hop from the toilet and slam open the stall door, tossing it into the trash before walking to the sink and recollecting your memory as you try to search for how this could’ve happened because you genuinely had no remembrance of any sexual encounter in the last few months.

“I-I can’t feel…” The tingling in your limbs causes them to limp as you attempt to move your body around, though hands around your wrists prevent you from budging. Legs sit in between yours as the person on top of you leans over to your ear.

“How much of a dosage did you give her this time, Sanzu?” Kazutora asks before he licks a slow trail from your neck to your ear. You squirm under him as you try to find an escape before your body slightly shuts down and you become still as your eyes become heavier.

“G-guys…” You whisper, trying to come back to reality as you feel him adjust on top of you. Your mouth hangs open in a silent grunt as you feel a firm pressure enter your vagina.

“Enough.” The blue eyed male responds while rubbing his thumb along your forehead, taking in your scrunched nosed expression as Kazutora slowly thrusts into you.

“Fuck.” He whispers as he pressed his cock against your cervix, holding it there as his hands snake to the back of your head and neck, squeezing before he pulls his hips back to repeat the same process.

You shut your eyes tight as the girth stretches you, a stinging sensation surrounding your core before your pussy engulfs his cock perfectly. The pain switched to a conflicting pleasure that your own drugged body couldn’t handle. Your head falls back as Sanzu leans over and pulls you into a heated kiss, while Kazutora holds you tightly, his head on the other side of your neck as he accelerates his pace, hips rocking in a steady rhythm purposefully aiming deep against your g-spot.

Ran watched the display to the side with his brother, enjoying the show as they patiently waited for their turn with Bonten’s signature doll. He man - spreads while sitting with his arms resting against the top of the sofa, one arm slightly behind Rin who has his arms crossed. Both brothers ignore their erections as their pants become tighter, listening to the sounds you make as well as the juices colliding.

Mikey sits in a chair, similar to a throne next to the sofa, eyeing the session with his legs spread, leaning over to where his arms rest on his legs. From this angle, you both make eye contact when Sanzu pulls back.

“P-please stop!” You whine out as tears fall, hoping for Mikey to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, the only response you get are Sanzu’s thumbs smearing your tears and groaning from Kazutora in your ear.

Suddenly, he stops his thrusting and pulls back. He sets your legs on his shoulders as he looks down at you with a glazed over expression, red covering his face along with sweat as he repositions himself before leaning over your thighs and thrusting hard. His pace accelerates once more as he brings you both closer to your release. His forehead rests on yours as he thrusts his hips rhythmically against you. His cock slides in and nearly out of your walls as the head kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

“You're taking his cock so well, sweet girl.” The pink haired male whispers against your ear before nibbling the lobe, his hand sliding on your chest towards your neck before circling his fingers around the surface and slightly squeezing. The stimulation becomes too much, the sensation overwhelming as it mixes with the effects of the drug. Your hips meet his deep thrusts as you cry out.

“So. *thrust* Fucking. *thrust* Good, baby.” Kazutora’s raspy soft spoken words meet your ear as his eyes bore into yours. Biting his lip, he watches as your hands meet his chest as his grip tightens on your legs, along with the thrusts forcing you into having a violent orgasm along with sending him into his own as he moans out your name and his hips move sloppily, riding out both of your orgasms as sweat drips from your skin.

Your hand shakily reached your mouth as you recall when they would drug you up and proceed with sexual acts against your will. You have no clue which of them would even be the father. You knew you had to figure something out but you just didn’t know what. You quickly leave the public restroom and ask to use the cashier’s phone. Once you dial the number, you set it to your ear.

“Draken? C-can you please help me?”

“Ugh, girl come here!” You sigh as you eye the mess left from the little devil.

“What is this?” You question your child, eyeing her golden eyes as you point at the red paint that spilled all over your carpet.

“U-uh, I don’t know mama.” The eight year old responds with a cheeky smile. You shake your head, irritated because of the mess but you breathe out a sigh considering the paint is washable and will be able to be cleaned.

“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna help me clean this up.” You shake your head as your daughter nods. You chuckle to yourself before stating, “And don’t try to lie to me anymore, I can see right through you.”

Your daughter shrugs before leaving to grab some of the supplies. You couldn’t believe how much she grew to look like Kazutora. It was haunting and hard to deal with at times but she had nothing to do with it so the love for your child was enough distraction from how she was created. Before you could follow and help her, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting anyone to have appeared so you ignore it.

Once the knocks stop, the ringing of your phone catches your attention. You snatch the device from your pocket and lift it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say to the unknown number.

“You have something of mine, and I’ve come to get it.” Before you could react, your windows were shattered as you crouched down and covered yourself. Immediately going into action, you run to the storage closet in the hallway to grab your child.

“Mama?” She cries out in surprise at the commotion.

“We have to go now!” You snatched her with one hand and pressed a contact with another.

“D-Draken! They broke i-!” Before you could finish, the phone was knocked out of your hand and you were forced to the ground, releasing your child in the process as she’s snatched by a person you hadn’t wanted to see.

“Awe, you really do have my eyes.” Kazutora says warmly with a smile as he holds your child in his arms, the poor girl crying in confusion and fear.

You're cuffed before you’re forced to stand up and face five of the men you never wanted to see.

“M-Mikey, please! She needs me! Don’t t-take her from me!” You yell in hopelessness, the tears falling uncontrollably as you watch Kazutora caress your daughter’s hair. The leader only stares down at you before turning on his heel and walking away, motioning for the other men to snatch you and follow.

“Wow, Y/n. You know, you really had us fooled.” Rin says as he grabs one arm. Ran stands on the other side and mimics his brother’s hold on the opposite arm.

“It’s silly really. We knew only an hour after you escaped and followed you up until this point.”

“You should be thanking the king for not killing you on the spot.” Sanzu growls with his head turned slightly back to make eye contact with you.

“On the bright side we can all be a family, now.” Kazutora beamed.

Truth be told though they would never say it out loud, they were all thankful that you hadn’t actually died. They found it humorous that you thought you could escape their radar at all. Now having been caught, you could only stare ahead, in hopes that if you comply, you could possibly come up with a plan to safely take your child and completely leave your past behind.

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ravenna-reid · 4 months

Text

Pretty Pretty Eyes

JASONTODD x FEM!VIGILANTE!READER

Summary - Jason had seen you around for months now but never managed to get to talk to you for more than a few seconds. Telling himself he had to investigate what the hell you were doing for Gotham's safety (yep, ok Jason) he makes a plan to stop you from disappearing one night. (Part of the scene inspired by the image in the middle) Enjoy!!

Warnings - Swearing and some violence, maybe like one suggestive line

Jason didn’t know why he felt this way, but he was intrigued by your reactions to everything. Or more accurately, your lack of. He was used to others narrowing their eyes at him, cussing him out, or even trying to throw a punch whenever he said something out of line. But that never happened with you. He was lucky to even get a puzzled frown and “Mm” from you. Then after that, you would disappear before he could even ask you any questions.

Slick as a whistle and as silent as a ghost. You seemed to always be where trouble followed, and when Jason got to the scene, you weren’t exactly helping the bad guys, but you weren’t exactly stopping them either. Were you a villain? A threat? Were you an ally? He didn’t know, because no matter how hard Jason tried, he could never find a trace on you either. And he’d be damned if he asked Bruce or Dick for help. It ate away at him if he was being honest.

However, tonight would be the night Jason would finally get his answers. Because he’d found you where he’d least expected to find you. On the top floor of a large building that displayed and sold art. What were you doing? He had no idea. All he knew was that he had to get you this time.

Once you’d heard his “subtle” footsteps and caught the gleam of his helmet from the corner of the room, you were on the move. Your speciality was slipping away unnoticed, and it worked every time. But Jason came prepared. Gun already raised, he shot something he’d spent weeks making in the Batcave, much to Bruce’s curiosity. A small, vibrant thing shot across the room like lightning and hit you right in the back. You stumbled, then quickly stopped to look behind you. You didn’t feel the agonising pain that came from a bullet wound. And when you looked down, you just couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Bright, neon yellow dust all over the back of your shirt. Now you had no chance of disappearing into the shadows. This man was actually ridiculous. But it was all he had since he’d run out of trackers. Much to your dismay, all you could do was shake your head at the situation and sprint.

As you threw the door closest to you open, you ran across the roof of the tall building. The cool breeze whipped against your skin. It ran through your hair as you leapt over ladders maintenance men had left behind and roof turbines. Jason followed close behind. And as he grew closer, he grabbed small metal gadgets with his gloved hand from his belt and threw them. Small explosions went off as they hit the ground, releasing thick smoke in front of you. You went to run to the side until you realised you were at the edge. Fuck.

Jason’s arm grabbed at your waist as he tried to pull you back, but you smacked him with your elbow. Using the momentum and grabbing hold of one of his arms, you then swung around behind him and swiftly uncurled the rope that was attached to your belt. Wrapping it around his legs caught Jason off guard given how quickly you moved, and soon Jason dropped down on one knee. You moved the rope up from his leg to around his neck and pulled back. But he managed to escape, grabbing the rope from your grip and tossing it off the building. Once Jason turned to you he paused, breath heavy, and waited for you to give up. Waited for you to realise he just wanted to talk. But you weren’t one to pause during a fight. “Now listen.” He said, hands raised.

Using a manoeuvre you learnt in Krav Maga many moons ago, you swiftly got the Red Hood on his back, and he had hit the ground like a tonne of bricks. Whilst he was down, you slipped one of your favourite daggers into the palm of your hand and closed the space between you two. Pinning one of his freakishly large arms down with your knee, you now had the dagger at his throat. Jason instantly came to a halt as the cool blade sat comfortably on his skin. A single jarring movement would draw blood, and all he could do was look up at you through his helmet. Both of your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths. The black mask he always saw you in covered your nose down to your chin, but Jason could see that focused glint pass through your eyes.

First the rope, now a blade at his throat?

“You have a thing for necks, huh?” He joked.

You ignored what he’d said. Like always.

Really, you were just trying to ignore the soft, musky scent that made its way to your nose…

The night went on around you as you tightened your hold on Jason. Being pinned to the ground so easily made him feel overwhelmingly agitated. Pissed off.

Impressed?

Leaning over him - both of your masked faces so close - you were about to say something (scold the living shit out of him) until you heard a click.

Your head instinctively looked down. Given you had one of his arms pinned, you didn’t think of the other one, hoping the knife to the throat and him being beneath you would be enough to restrain the Red Hood. But now as you looked down to where the sound came from, you saw one of Jason’s loaded glocks, the cool steel gently pressed against the skin on your waist. Your body stilled as a simmering anger washed over you. What a compromising position.

“And you were so close to getting away, weren’t you?” Jason murmured, a hidden smirk plastered across his face.

You dragged your eyes back to him, and although your mask was covering half of your face he could still see the foul expression you were giving him. Hell, it was as though he could feel it.

“Why won’t you just give up?” You asked, voice muffled.

Jason was stunned. It was the first time he’d heard your voice. It was warm. Smooth. So…

What the hell was he thinking?

“It’s my job to make sure this city is safe, Princess. Gotta keep track of those that are running around in masks –”

“What? You think I’m some bastard who’s conspiring with drug lords or something?” You asked cooly.

“If you’re not guilty, why do you keep running away?”

“Why do you care?”

Jason could feel your muscles tensen. The dagger that still sat at his throat shifted closer. He quickly reminded you of the gun that was still pointed to your waist.

“Easy now.” The words fell from his lips as though they were a lull.

Silence settled over you both as you stared at each other. A faint beating thrummed in your heart. Jason’s blood was rushing. You leant down even closer, and Jason swore he could feel your breath on his skin.

“You ruined my shirt.”

He smiled.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to make it up to you, aren’t I? Once you tell me who you are.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Mm.”

Then, as you moved your arm back so that your elbow could knock the black cylinder from your opened pouch, the canister dropped to the floor and rolled over beside Jason’s head before exploding. Quickly dragging your body off of him, you slipped your dagger back in its place and leapt down onto a balcony beside the building you were on. As you fled the scene, your head reeled from the events of the night.

So much for a ruthless vigilante you thought to yourself, a warm smile forcing its way onto your face.

Getting to his feet and wiping the soot like substance from his helmet, he searched for you across the rooftop. But he knew better. You were nowhere to be found. A defeated sigh left Jason as his shoulders dropped, but even with his loss, all Jason could think about were your eyes. Those pretty pretty eyes.

“Until next time.”

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x vigilante reader #jason todd angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #angst #red hood angst

249 notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 7 months

Note

4 with lando :)))

flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)

LN4 x reader

tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol

images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃

warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!

lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.

“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.

“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.

“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.

“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.

“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.

“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.

“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.

“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.

you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.

“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.

“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.

“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.

“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.

“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.

you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.

“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”

#lavenderlando #lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #blurbs #drabble #blurb #lando norris fluff #lando norris fics #f1 fics #f1 fic #request #ask #writing things #f1 fluff #jas’s spotify blurbs

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keeksandgigz · 1 month

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Chapter 1: Les Usurpateurs

Part 1 of Words are Futile Devices- A Steddie x Reader Call Me By Your Name AU

Somewhere in Northern Italy, 1983

cw: ~3k words, no smut (yet), EVERYONE IS OF AGE!!!, a lot of unnecessary description for the vibes, reader is a bit of a cunt

notes: I'm back (I think)

Despite the lack of smut in this chapter, this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

There was something of a quiet intimacy in hearing the summer sparrows in the morning. Nothing but the gentle hum and chirp buried in the ripe peach trees. Thus marking the beginning of your yearly summer stay in Italy, of doing nothing but lounge around and savor the crickets at night, lying down on the couch of the villa your mother had inherited from her great grandparents.

What you liked about your summers in Italy was that time seemed to go slower, at your leisure, spending it between the lake with your friends, the town just a short bike ride away or staying home buried in the pile of books you had brought over just to keep in your room, a bit overgrown, but unable to make it “too yours” because of the guests you’d have to concede your room to a mere four weeks after your arrival at the villa.

Every summer, your father would host literature and art history students at the villa, aspiring professors, authors, archeologists, to help with their dissertations. They’d come with their american ways, obnoxiously disturbing the peace that you had created for yourself in the idyllic world you’d surrounded yourself into. Like that was a different astral plane you’d projected into, with the same friends as always, the same views, the same places to go. A different guest you’d have to surrender your room to for ten weeks, while you were banished to the communicating room, divided only by a shared bathroom. A small twin bed, an old desk and chair, a big enough window to let a good amount of light in, so you don’t suffocate and turn into a vampire. You despised that room.

They always arrived on the first day of July, when the weather seemed to turn from needing a light pair of jeans in the evening to clothes being unbearable. If you were in your room you’d limit yourself to a long enough shirt to keep you decent for the ghosts in the villa. There were no ghosts, but Giovanna, the housekeeper, would pop in from time to time to drop off your clothes– washed, ironed and folded. They smelled like citrus.

You were reading The Count of Monte Cristo when the guest arrived. The rippling sounds of the gravel under the heavy tires of the car sounding like an alarm. You placed your book face down on the page you had been reading and ran to the window. Curious to see what the tide had brought this year. Maybe someone whose English wasn’t very good. Or some lunatic who could only stay inside because of his pollen allergy. You wondered what they would have looked like. Tall? Ugly? Obnoxious in the sense where you could hear them play shuffle and slam and bang doors and cabinets and drawers in the morning when getting ready?

The car came to a stop in front of the door, right under the window of your room. The driver’s door opened, Giuseppe, the groundskeeper of the villa went around to open the trunk. Your heart thumped as you saw the passenger door open. It was a man. He was wearing a pair of white linen shorts, a blue flouncy short sleeve button- up shirt and gold- rimmed glasses. He pushed them up as he placed two hands on his hips, quickly removing one in favor of running his hands through his hair, styled and coiffed like he had not just come off an eight- hour flight.

“You must be…” You’d heard your father say, placing a finger on his bearded chin, the name of the boy must have slipped him.

“Steve. Piacere” the boy said, in an Americanized Italian, sounding like he had a hot potato in his mouth.

“Ah! Steve, Benvenuto” your father said, bidding his welcome and shaking the boy’s hand. Your mother extended a delicate hand as well, introducing herself with a bright smile. At the same time, the opposite passenger door opened. Another boy.

This one had long, frizzy hair. His face was framed by the bangs that stuck on his forehead. He was wearing a black t- shirt of a band you’d never heard of before tucked inside a pair of cutoff denim shorts held up by a belt, a chain clinking at the boy’s side as he stepped off the car. He wouldn’t let Giuseppe take his bags, insisting he could have done it himself.

Your father followed the boy with his eyes as he carried what appeared to be a duffel bag and a beat up suitcase towards your father.

“And this must be Eddie, then” your father said, as Eddie released his suitcase to shake your father’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” the boy said, and from this new angle you could see that he sported three chunky rings on his left hand and a chain necklace around his neck. Your father saw you peeking out the window and motioned for you to come down.

“Shall we go inside? Show you around before dinner?” He motioned towards the boys as Eddie picked his stuff up once again and followed inside. You rolled your eyes. That was your cue to put on some pants and come downstairs.

Your father’s office was just on the right at the bottom of the stairs, as you hopped down the marble steps. You heard chatter.

“Oh there she is” you heard your father announce as you leaned against the doorframe of his office. You tended to dislike his theatrics “Boys, this is my daughter” the two guests turned around, reaching their hands to squeeze yours, as you firmly told them your name.

“Hey, I’m Steve,” he said, fixing his glasses with his other hand. He was soft, but his handshake was firm. Hands bigger than yours.

“You’re the archeology and history nerd” you quipped, a slight curl of your mouth followed it.

Steve didn’t seem to like the name, as he let go of your hand, mouth in a straight line. Embarrassed. Put off. You needed them to know that they weren’t welcome here.

“Hey, what’s up I’m Eddie” the other guy said. His hand was much more rougher and calloused than Steve’s, likely a guitarist.

“You’re the soon to be failed author?” you tilted your head at him,

you tilted your head at him, you heard your mother gasp, the indignation dripping from her mouth as she said your name. Eddie chuckled, a bit taken aback, but amused.

“How do you like daddy’s money, hm?” It was your turn to be indignant. You heard your father snicker behind the boy, followed by Steve. Your hand brusquely retracted from Eddie’s, as your mother poured springs of apologies on your behalf.

“She’s not like this, usually,” your mother said. Which was a lie. You were always like this. Rude, witty, sour.

You heard the disappointment in your dad’s tone “Go show them their room” he said, an intimation for you to leave.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said, before you guided them back upstairs.

Eddie huffed up the stairs. You didn’t offer to take his bags, as he seemed to not need nor want any help.

You opened the large pinewood door.

“You guys are gonna sleep in here. This is my room, but it’s gonna be yours for the rest of your stay. I’m gonna be in the next room over. Unfortunately we’ll have to share a bathroom” You could see sleep calling to them, as their eyes opened and closed slowly at the sight of a made bed.

Eddie dropped his bags and thumped on the bed, sleep immediately overtaking him.

“You have to excuse him, this is the first time he’s traveled outside of the States,” Steve said, sitting on the bed, leaning to take his shoes off.

“Nervous or what?” you asked, examining your bookcase in case you wanted to steal a book to take to your room.

“Just not as lucky as many” Steve shrugged, laying himself down on the mattress “this is his big shot. If your dad likes his stuff it’s all uphill from here” Steve groans, voice full of sleep “thanks for lending us your room, let us know when dinner is.”

And that was that. The boy fell into the arms of slumber.

And when Giovanna rang the bell to announce dinnertime, once again you peeled yourself away from The Count of Monte Cristo. You wondered if they were still sleeping.

You wandered into the bathroom and towards the door as you shot a quick look at the two sleeping bodies on the bed. Eddie was snoring. You were unsure if you should have woken them up.

You toyed with the bathroom door, swinging it between your hands. A grin decorated your face as you decided to slam it. Steve jumped awake, annoyed and scared.

“Dinner’s ready” you muttered, reaching for the handle of the door.

“I’ll pass, thanks” Steve said, shaking Eddie from his almost comatose state. The boy mumbled a semi- discernible “huh?”

“Dinner, Ed. ‘m not going, but you can feel free to” Steve said to the other, but he just turned around and sleepily muttered an “‘mgood, thanks.”

“He’s good. We’ll apologize to your mother in the morning” Steve said, laying back down, ignoring you completely.

Where’s my apology?

You were thankful for the lack of guests at dinner. That way you were able to silently eat and then slither back into your room. Back into your book. Lulled by the crickets, and the whisper of the trees in the weak evening breeze. You ended up falling asleep.

In the morning, Steve was already outside having breakfast with your parents. He looked like he had showered, but you didn’t recall the faint sound of the water running. He was wearing another pair of shorts, another flouncy shirt. Fumbling with a slice of toast, buttered with jam as he talked to your father about the morning paper.

“This is gorgeous by the way” Steve admitted, looking around “your orchard?” he looked at your mother, who was smiling proudly at the compliment.

“We grow a lot of fruit here, Giovanna makes apricot juice fresh every day” she smiled, biting into a slice of bread.

“You had a lot to say yesterday, now you’re a quiet little mouse?” your father teased, elbowing you lightly as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s okay, she apologized” Steve said, an assuring look in his eyes “she didn’t mean that stuff. She told me, it’s just her welcome wagon” he chuckled, and you felt yourself grow red. Why would he save you like that?

Eddie popped out from the door, hair in a bun, changed out of his shirt in favor for a new one.

“You should show them around some time, dear. Take them into town, maybe at the lake, I hope your father is not gonna keep them cooped up in his office for ten weeks” your mother giggled.

“Yeah, no we’d love that. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration for the book” Eddie sat down at the breakfast table, between you and Steve as he fumbled with a soft boiled egg Giovanna had to crack open for him. Embarrassment was veiled on his face.

You looked at his ringed hands, fumble with the small spoon. Did it always look so small?

“We’re not gonna start until the beginning of the week, but I might ask you to go get some supplies into town today and take these two with you. Eddie’s gonna need some nice paper for his typewriter, won’t you?” your father gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder, at which he smiled.

“Have another egg” your mother encouraged the boys. Eddie dug into the pot again, getting more confident with the way he spread the runny yolk on a slice of toast. Some of the runny egg dripped in between his fingers.

Just not as lucky as many.

Steve passed. “I know myself too well, if I have a second, I’ll just have a third and a fourth and a fifth and then I’m just gonna have to get rolled outta here” he joked. I know myself. Self- assured, cocky. You wondered what it felt like to really know yourself, to have everything figured out like he did.

You lent Steve Giuseppe’s old bike, Eddie got an old one of yours, the squeaky rusted tires alerting the two strangers’ presence. You were afraid you would have been pressured into giving one of them your own bike, seeing as you had already surrendered all of your possessions to them.

It was a pleasant day. Not too incredibly hot to be embarrassed if the two boys were to see you, face riddled with uncomfortable beads of sweat, breath heaving irregularly from the dry air of July. Instead, a nice breeze came through the mountains, as you debated on going for a swim later in the day.

That’s what you liked about your summers there. A swimsuit was always the wardrobe of choice under your summer clothes, the freedom to subsist in a plane of existence where your obligations began and ended within the span of a few miles of green grass and honeysuckle flowers.

The two boys followed you down the graveled road into town, which seemed to be deserted, families abandoning their houses in favor of driving to the beach for the weekend.

You asked them if they wanted to get a coffee, as you dismounted your bikes and parked them in front of a coffee place.

You sat outside as you sipped from your espresso cups.

“So” Steve broke the silence “What does one do around here?” you put down your book, the device you so desperately tried to ignore them with, trying to drown them out.

“Wait for the summer to end” you mumbled carelessly, going back to the words on the page.

“Ok and then in the winter you wait for the summer to start?” Eddie snickered.

“Seriously though, what do you do here the whole summer?” Steve interrupted, taking you away from your book again, as you tossed it on the table.

“I read, mostly. Play music, swim at the lake, go out” you huffed out annoyedly, reaching for the book. Eddie preceded you.

“Kafka? What happened to Monte Cristo?” he flicked through the yellowed pages.

“I finished it. How’d you know I was reading that?” you snatched the book back from his hands.

“It was on your bed before I slammed onto it. You should read something a bit more substantial,” he said “Kafka isn’t gonna teach you shit, why don’t you read Dorian Grey instead?” it annoyed you how patronizing his tone was.

“I read that last year, thanks for the help” you retorted, taking the book back from him with a roll of your eyes.

“Your dad seemed to make it abundantly clear that you need to be nice to us” Steve intervened, whining like a petulant child.

“Or what? You’ll snitch on me?” you snapped, the two boys looking at each other.

“Listen, sweetheart,” your nose curled at the nickname, “we’re not your enemies or whatever you think you’ve made us out to be. We really don’t want to be a nuisance to you” nothing about what he said seemed sincere. You rolled your eyes in response.

“Well,” Steve stood up from the metal chair with a violent noise, Eddie following suit “we’ll see you later,” as the both of them mounted their bikes and left. The creaking noises of the rusty old bikes followed in their pedaling.

They finally got the hint.

You spent the rest of your day at the lake, not really in a mood to interact with Chiara or Alessandro, two of your longtime friends. Instead, you made the slushing of the water current your friend, staring at the words on the page. Meaningless words. Kafka didn’t seem so enticing after all.

When you got home it went back on the dusty shelf. Your hand lingered on the spine of Dorian Grey for a moment. The cover was brown and worn, it was your mother’s before it became yours, your heart picked up at the words on the spine, gold lettering. You thought about what Eddie had said earlier.

You picked up Heart of Darkness instead.

tagging: @littlexdeaths, @xxbimbobunnyxx, @aphrogeneias, @rowanswriting, @stveharringtn, @impmunson, @strangerstilinski, @lavendermunson, @rebelfell, @bimbobaggins69, @cryingglightningg, @thornsnvultures, @jamdoughnutmagician, @take-everything-you-can, @eddiesxangel, @ali-r3n, @emxxblog, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @yujyujj, @gregre369, @subconsciouscollapse, @aol19, @cooljadejacksonthings, @maeneedsabreak, @eddiesguitarskills, @freak-of-hawkins, @eddiesghxst

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hwasoup · 2 months

Text

Tale As Old As Time

playlist

art credit: marbipa

hii guuyys its soup !! what a crazy week it has been. I have a class where my group is shit except for 3 ppl and i've been really excited for spring break. Talking about spring break, after this update I wont be updating until after my spring break, However that doesn't mean i might release little mini stories that take place during this chapter !! I will still be active, juuust not writing as much. spring break for me ends on March 17th so be on the lookout for an update during that week !!

for this chapter I took some actual lines and dialouge from a book and sonnet !!

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warnings: pure fluff if you're allergic to it and maybe a little smexy thoughts, and some evil planning

words: 3.3k

Chapter 5: A Second Chance

After arriving back at the castle…

Miguel is taken all the way to his room where he could rest and heal from his wounds. Y/N peeked inside his room worried but was shut out by Lyla who softly told her that Miguel is currently having his room cleaned up. Y/N nodded as she waited outside.

After what seemed to be an hour, Y/N peeked back inside with a cloth and some hot water in a bucket. She noticed how his room is tidier and much cleaner from the original state from what it was. She thought that maybe, the Beast was too embarrassed for her to enter his room in such a grave state. Lyla hopped in the room besides Y/N and led him to the bed where Miguel was laying. Everyone was huddled by the bed with worried faces as they hoped for Miguel to feel better. Miguel on the other hand was still a bit grumpy and in pain as he was licking his own wounds. Y/N with a small sigh picked up a stool and sat right beside the bed and placed the rag into the hot water. She then picked it up and squeezed it to remove any excess water. “Here, and stop licking that you’ll only infect it further...” she says softly as she approaches him. Miguel looked at her and snarled a bit, Y/N sighed, and she grabbed his arm and placed the wet rag on the wound. Miguel roared loudly in pain and yelled at her “COÑO THAT HURTS”

“Well if you didn’t move so much then It wouldn’t have hurt!”

“WELL IF YOU DIDN’T RUN AWAY, THIS WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED”

“WELL IF YOU DIDN’T FRIGHTEN ME, I WOULDN’T HAVE RAN AWAY”

Miguel opened his mouth but then stopped as she did have a point. “W-WELL, YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE TO THE WEST WING” he smirks to himself as he thinks that he got the final word. “WELL YOU SHOULD LEARN TO HOLD YOUR TEMPER!” Miguel’s smirk dropped from that statement; she also had a point too.

Miguel eventually gave up as he dropped his arm for her to treat him. He did have to admit, it felt nice being cared for by someone. He growled again as he felt the heat and sting from the wet rag go back on his arm. Y/N looked at him and softly said “sorry if it stings a bit…” Miguel simply had to hold in his growls as he felt the hot water from the rag permeate his wounds. Y/N eventually looked at him and whispered “by the way… gracias ..por salvar mi vida…” Miguel was surprised and even felt touched for her appreciation. He didn’t know what to call the emotion, but he liked it. He turned to look at her with kind eyes “you’re welcome...”

After a while, Miguel fell asleep and Y/N slowly walked out of his room along with the others who were watching their interactions. Y/N turns around and crouches a little as she hears Miles say “Thank you…we’re grateful for you helping him..”

Y/N sighs and asks “why do you all care for him so much ? He’s so…well you know

Peter was polishing Mayday a little and looked up at Y/N “well…it's because we all grew up with him, we basically looked after each other for his entire life” Y/N’s heart crumbled a little for them “But…he’s the reason why he basically cursed all of you, why stay with him?”

Jess waddled up to her and sighed “well…it's because we didn’t do anything when his mother died and when his own brother left him. It was just Me and Peter, the others eventually came in as their own parents couldn’t work in this castle anymore. You see when we knew him…he was this bright boy that thought he could do anything, but…in the end we’re still servants, we couldn’t even do anything when the King took him under his wing and molded him to be the person he is today…”

In that moment Y/N understood everything now, she understood why these people were so loyal to him. She felt pretty bad and well ultimately decided that maybe she should give Miguel a second chance..

As the days went by, Y/N constantly went to see Miguel with medicine and more hot water to clean his wounds. Everyday she would hear stories from the staff of how Miguel was and their experiences with him, Heck even Hobie gave her a funny story. She felt motivated for a strange reason to help him and maybe even get to properly know him a bit better. Y/N eventually found out what the spell was about and she remembered asking Gwen what it meant if the last petal fell. In Gwen’s words she basically said “we become dead antique looking objects” Y/N also asked Peter when she found him on what it would take to break the spell, Miles was eager to tell her but Peter stopped him by simply saying ��it's not something you should really worry about” Y/N thankfully took a hint and moved along with her day.

More days passed and Y/N started simply reading aloud to kill time

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,”

Miguel slowly stirred to Y/N’s voice and his eyes fluttered to hear her reciting a sonnet. His heart strangely softened at her voice, but he assumed it was because he appreciated her care for him during the past few days.He then heard the lines she spoke and immediately recognized it and finished the last few lines

“And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines”

Y/N stopped to look at him in awe “conoces a Shakespeare ??” she said in a slightly excited tone. Miguel moved from the left to right side of the bed to look at her, his heart slightly pounding at the sight of her “well..I had quite the expensive education” Y/N smiled at him “My favorite play is Romeo and Juliet” Miguel rolled his eyes and groaned “why am I not surprised” he said shaking his head in utter disappointment. “Como ?” Miguel chuckled and responded “All of that heartache pining, and romance, it's just-” Miguel makes a gagging noise to express how cringe he finds it.

Y/N chuckled a little and smiled. “Well, Mr. Cringe, from this assessment I can concur that you’re feeling a bit better, If you’ll excuse me, I promised Mayday that we would build a snowman” Miguel nodded as he understood and watched her walk out of his room. He lay there in confusion and wondered if he was going mad…"diablo, que hermosa” he muttered as he covered his face with his arm.

__________________________________________

An hour later

Y/N was walking outside with the adorable teacup to build a snowman. She smiled each time that Mayday pointed out little items that could be used to build. The two happily built a snowman and stole a carrot from Felipe’s stables to place as the snowman’s nose. Too bad Felipe saw them and started playing with them as well and squished the snowman. However, at a balcony high up in the castle, Miguel was watching Y/N from a distance. He softly watched her and smiled each time she laughed or smiled. He looked down at his bandaged wound and sighed as he wondered what to do. He looked beside him as Peter was paying attention to his darling daughter, hoping she wouldn't get trampled by Felipe. “Hey Peter…uhh…what do you call it when you-” Miguel gulped a little “when you feel kind of fluttery when staring at someone” Peter turned to him and smirked “is this someone, a certain woman who’s frolicking in the snow” Miguel groaned at his teasing and sighed “coño vale ok, jeez…but uhh…what do I do for her…I mean..she’s done so much for me” Peter then thinks for a bit and then smiled when thinking of something “why don’t you show her the library, trust me she’ll like it.” Miguel nodded as he took his advice and decided to show Y/N the library. A bit later during the day Miguel found Y/N inside the castle playing chess with Miles and asked her to join him for a special occasion. Y/N agreed and followed him, but immediately was tied a ribbon on her eyes “It’s a surprise and I don’t want you peeking.”

Y/N smiled and simply allowed Miguel to guide her into the greatest surprise of her life. She heard a door open and felt his large furry hands take her inside. She kept on walking until he brought her to a stop. "Can I take this ribbon off now?” Y/N asked. “Ya en un ratito” Miguel excitedly went to the windows and opened the curtains for light to come inside. Y/N could see the light seep in through the ribbon, but she still couldn’t make out what she’s looking at. “Can I take the ribbon off now ??” Miguel smiled with his toothy grin and told her “Yes, you may take off the ribbon” Y/N untied the ribbon from the back of her head and then finally looked into the room she was actually in and her jaw dropped. There were books everywhere in this giant room. “Oh my..this library…it's so...Dios Mio, it's so grand, it's wonderful !!”

Miguel smiled at her reaction, it was definitely priceless and worth it to see her cheeks rise and to see her eyes ever so slightly crinkle at the ends of her face. “I suppose it is” he responded “well…then since you like it so much then it's yours to keep” Y/N excitedly looked at him and asked “ Have you read all of these books ?” Miguel chuckles and scoffs “Not all of them, some of them are in Latin” Y/N laughs and smiles “was that a joke ? you like telling jokes now ?” Miguel turned around to a table, but then looked back at her and smiled “maybe”

—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-

It has now been around 3 months since Y/N has stayed in the castle and ever since the two of them have slowly developed a bond. They became friends, but at the same time they really weren’t. The staff noticed it and were just simply happy to be working again. There were certain instances where Miguel was a bit gruff, awkward, or just had odd behaviors, but Y/N found solutions to each one. When eating soup at the dinner table, instead of using spoons they would sip the contents of the dish from the bowl itself. When eating meat, they would use their hands, and when reading books the two must sit together and share the book.

“Who knew that this would work ?” Jess whispered. Peter nodded and smiled “I'm surprised myself, it's quite encouraging to be honest” Little Mayday who was with them looked up at her father “daddy ? what IS werking ?” Peter chuckled and looked at the little teacup “nothing to twist your little head around May, come on now we have things to do in the kitchen” Mayday nodded and hopped along with her father to the kitchen. Jess peering at the newly formed friendship smiled “don’t screw up Miguel”. She left the room to another part of the castle to attend her duties at.

During this period of friendship, Miguel had started to wear clothes instead of the rags he wore, he wanted to look more presentable to Y/N. Luckily the seamstress was willing to sew new clothes for him in his furry stature. Y/N had invited him to walk outside to finish the book they were currently reading: The Count of Monte Cristo. He eventually met up with y/n as they took a stroll outside in the wintery snow. Y/N every once in a while, would peer up at him to spot any grimaces in his face, but was met instead with a calm look. As she read, she couldn’t help but peer at him one more time, her thoughts straying away to some impurities, her thoughts slipping as she imagined Miguel’s furry chest against her own body. She blushed at her own actions and disregarded it. She didn’t want to believe she just thought of something like that. The two finally walked by a bridge as she finally read the last sentences of the book “Gone,” murmured Valentine; “adieu, my sweet Haidee—adieu, my sister!”

“Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?” said Morrel with tearful eyes.

“Darling,” replied Valentine, “has not the count just told us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words?—’Wait and hope.’”

Miguel smiled at her last words and looked at her “well that was quite the story” Y/N looked up and smiled at him. “I agree” Y/N put away the book in a bag and then smiled as she walked quickly towards Felipe, gently petting the horse and feeding him some apples that she had stored in her bag. She gestured for Miguel to come. He gulped as he looked at the horse, he didn’t want to frighten him with his beastly appearance, but the reassurance that y/n gave him was enough. He slowly approached Felipe and tried to put his hand on the horse, but Felipe nickered. The noise startled Miguel as he slightly flinched. Y/N chuckled a little and helped Miguel approach Felipe again, she wondered how he was just so sweet and kind despite his angry facade. When Miguel finally placed his hand against the horse his ears perked up and he looked up at Y/N with a toothy grin. She chuckled as she looked at him dearly, she enjoyed that his curiosity was emerging and his uncertainties as well. She handed him some bird feed and showed him how to feed birds in a quiet manner as well. Miguel looked at her as he was able to pet Felipe and successfully feed some birds. He thought how her glances were just so adorable, how she would always place a hand on him without any fear. He wanted to ignore all of these little things she did, but he simply couldn’t get over her. Her body was so petite against his, it just made his mind wander to farther places. However, his thoughts were interrupted when he realized he had birds perched all over his upper body and feeding the seeds from his hands. Y/N on the other hand was watching silently from behind a tree as she had to make terms with herself that she was finding Miguel’s true personality quite attractive. She always knew as a child that the man that she falls for would be for who he is, but she never expected this to be in THIS way. Y/N looked back quickly at Miguel and chuckled at all the birds on him, but her playfulness got to her as she started a snowball fight with him. The two in the snow played around, throwing snowballs at each other relentlessly, some bigger some smaller, and Miguel using his size as an advantage to make a giant snowball to throw at Y/N.

After a long day of just playing in the snow, the two came inside to sit by the fire to start reading yet another book. Peeking outside the room where the fireplace was located. Miles, Gwen, Lyla, Peter, Mayday, and Jess were looking at the two of them.

“Y’know…I think they like each other” “Y’know what miles, I think you’re right.”

“Shush you two do you want us to get caught.” Peter chuckled “alright Jess, just let them have their moment.”

Mayday looked up confused and babbled “whaddaya mean they like each other” Peter laughs alongside with Lyla who tells her “We’ll tell you when you’re older.”

__________________________________________

However, in the village…

Ben was having a meeting with a man in the middle of the night in his cabin. Eddie was there as well but simply sighed as he knew that this plan was horrid

“Yo usualmente no salgo del Psiquiátrico en la madrugada, but I was told this is worth my time..”

Ben smiled wickedly and placed on the table a large bag of gold coins. The man looked at the money and smiled as he picked up a coin “i’m listening”

Ben smiled “so the plan is that I am dead set on marrying Y/N, but I’m starting to believe that she needs a bit of persuasion per say..” Eddie rolls his eyes and mutters “more like being flat out rejected” Ben sneered at Eddie, and quickly used his look to silence him.

“Everyone knows that her father is a loon, he was in the tavern I believe 3-4 months ago raving over some beast in a castle?!” The man sighed “Mauricio is harmless though, he hasn’t done anything to harm the villagers to put him IN the asylum.”

Ben smacked the table “Listen, the point is that Y/N would do ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING to keep Mauricio out of the asylum” Eddie mumbled again “might marry him too” The man thinks “So you want me to throw her father into el psiquiátrico, a menos que ella se ponga de acuerdo de casarse contigo. Oh that is just despicable…” The man chuckled as he looked at the bag of money and he starts laughing menacingly “I LOVE IT”

__________________________________________

Back in the castle as the days slowly got warmer

Miguel was sitting down in his budding rose garden, the sights of spring finally peeking through the icy cold. He sat down and hummed as he enjoyed the book he was reading, flipping through the pages, enjoying each time the story escalated. Y/N sees him from a distance and approaches him at the rose garden. “What are you reading?” Miguel surprised closed his book as he cheekily responded “oh, nothing” Y/N smiled and chuckled as she sat beside him “Guinevere and Lancelot” Miguel corrected her “Actually, King Arthur and the Round Table, lots of blood, men, sword fighting and stuff.” Y/N hummed “It's still a romance” Miguel groans “Esta bien, you win” Y/n smiled and laughed a bit. Miguel smiled and looked at her with adoration in his eyes “I never thanked you, for not leaving me to be eaten by the wolves” Y/N laughed again. In the distance laughter was heard from the staff as they all chatted and teased little mayday.

“Well, it seems that they know how to have a good time” Miguel rolls his eyes “and yet every time I walk in the room laughter just dies.” Y/N smiles at the similarity that they share and lays her head on Miguel’s shoulder, shocking the man to his core as his ears flattened in embarrassment. “I get it, the villagers would say I'm a funny girl” she moves her head away to look at him “I don’t think they meant it in a nice way” Miguel’s face drooped at her words “I'm sorry you had to experience that…Your village sounds horrid, terrible people there” Y/N chuckled as she agreed with him. Miguel looked into her eyes as he could see the sun glinting against the lovely shade that adorned her face. Without hesitating he didn’t realize what he said

“Estás haciendo que todo parezca tan bonito en mis ojos... crees que algún día podria bailar contigo?”

Y/N softly smiled as she took his hand and held his, feeling the warmth radiate from his palms.

“Of course, Miguel...”

taglist:

@cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles,@xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n,

@badbishsblog, @faimmm,@keendreamnight, @texanadmirer,@stargirrls, @itzsab,@delectableworm

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel atsv

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the-froschamethyst4 · 3 months

Text

My Daddy is My Hero

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: TOOTH ROTTING fluff, slight angst, language, married couple, children, codenames,

𖤐Summary: Your daughter Iris had a project for her school and it was ‘Who is your Hero’ and picks someone close to her

————

"Mama."

Y/n heard the tiny voice of her 7 year-old daughter Iris. She smiles and turns to look at her daughter.

"Yes, baby?" Y/n asks.

"We're doing a project for school, called 'My Hero' and I decided to do daddy, can you help me?" Iris asks.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" Y/n says, wiping her hands and placing her hands on her hips walking to her daughter.

"What did daddy do?"

"For the military?" Iris nods in response. "Well, why don't I help you with your paper first, okay?"

"Okay, mama."

"Alright let me see what you got."

This was a week ago, Y/n helped Iris with her paper for hours and kept the project a secret from John.

"My Hero is my daddy, John Bravo Six Price. My daddy was part of the Military as a Captain, he is also the member of the British SAS. Sometimes my daddy is away for months, and I miss every time he leaves, but he tells me he'll come back safe and he always brings me a souvenir from his adventures." She digs in her backpack and pulls out a few things to show off.

"This is a picture of my daddy and some of his work friends, this one is Ghost and this one is Gaz." She puts them back and then grabs a few things that Price has brought back for her.

"This is a mini pyramid, when he went to Egypt. This is a tin art piece from Mexico, they traditionally have art of landscapes of them and pretty flowers. And this is stein from Germany, they usually put their drinks in it." She puts everything back in her bag.

"My daddy is currently in Russia right now and is coming back today, I am excited to see my daddy, and he is my hero."

"Wow! Thank you Iris for sharing, a round of applauds for Iris," her teacher says.

--------

At the end of the day Iris had walked outside to see her mom standing in the car rider line.

"MAMA!"

"Hi, baby," Y/n bends down kissing her daughter's temple, Y/n noticed her paper in her hands. "What's this baby?" Y/n asked.

"My paper for my hero, I got a 100% and a gold star," Iris smiles.

"That's great baby," Y/n kissed her daughter's temple again, before they walked to Y/n's car.

"Mama, is daddy coming home today?"

"Yep," Y/n says, buckling her daughter in her car seat.

----------

Once Y/n pulled into the driveway and helped her daughter out of her car seat they go inside and Y/n placed Iris's paper on the fridge, so when John comes in, he'll see it.

--------

Iris and Y/n played some board games before Price came home. Price was stuck in traffic and just wanted to go home to his family, Y/n smiled at her daughter who was still trying to understand the rules of the game.

"Honey you move 4 spaces."

"But when I play with Anna, she says I'm suppose to move 8 times."

"Why?" Y/n asked with a confused look and a slight giggle.

"Because four plus four equals eight."

"Honey, you're not adding anything. What you roll is what you roll, you rolled a four so you move four places."

"Okay, mama," Iris says with no more argument.

"Daddy has finally arrived," John says as he comes through the front door, Iris pops her head up and Y/n looks over her shoulder at her husband.

"DADDY!" Iris yells, running towards him. He drops his stuff and picks her up.

"How is my baby girl, huh?" He asks Iris kissing her cheek.

"Good," Y/n gets up off the floor and walks over to him, her hands running over his shoulders and hugging his neck.

"And how is mommy doing?" He asked in a bit of a seductive tone before kissing Y/n's lips.

"Just fine." She says to him.

"Oh daddy, look," Iris wiggled from his hold and ran to the fridge, pulling the paper off the fridge.

"What's this?" He asks her, looking at the 100% with his usual big smile and then reading 'My Hero'. "Oh...I remember doing a project like this when I was younger, my hero was Aunt," he smiles and bends down to his daughter. "Who was yours, baby?" He asks.

"Read it daddy," she giggles and hands him the paper.

"My hero is my..." Price looks at it thinking maybe he was reading it wrong. "My daddy...Captain John Bravo Six Price." He reads the papers, tears wanting to fall from his eyes but he held them, choking on some of the words.

Iris hated seeing her father so upset...The last time she's seem him upset is when her grandpa passed away. Iris took her small hand wiping her daddy's tears that did soon fall on his cheeks.

The sight melted Y/n's heart. Price's big hand cupped hers and kissed her knuckles.

"Thank you, baby," he says, pulling her into the biggest and longest hug. "This deserves to be framed," he jokes and looks at his wife who has been crying since Price started reading the paper. He pulls her into a hug as well.

----------

9:00PM

Price couldn't help but constantly re-reading the paper, he was laying in bed, Y/n was doing her nightly routine and Iris was asleep peacefully in her bed.

"John?"

"Why did she pick me?" He asked.

"Because she loves you," Y/n says, crawling on the bed.

She cups his face and kissed his lips. "Did she tell you, she was going to pick me?"

"Yes...but...she loves you...she loves the little things you bring back for her, she took one of your bucket hats to school because she missed you so much. You are her hero, Price and you always will be, I hope you know that."

----------

Price couldn't sleep, he looks at the ceiling and then at his sleeping wife next to him, he caresses her face kissing her forehead and getting out of the bed. He puts on a t-shirt and headed down the hall

He goes to the kitchen, he notices the light on in the kitchen and then seeing a little someone with a glass in her hands.

"Iris...baby, what are you doing up?" He asked.

"I can't sleep, and I was thirsty," Iris says, looking up at him, but he bends down to her level. She walks to him, his arms wrapping around her as she was still holding her glass of water.

"Come on, baby," he rubs her side and kiss her temple as she followed him back to her bedroom. He opens her bedroom door and she walks in, placing her glass on the nightstand and getting back into her bed but Price rests on her right side of her.

"Daddy."

"Yes?"

"Can you stay home, tomorrow?" Iris asked, looking at her daddy. She rolls on her side and plays with his dog tags.

"I can see," he says, placing his arm over her side rubbing her side again and patting her small leg.

Iris's eyes felt heavy, and she ended up falling asleep, Price looked to his right and looked down at his tired, sleeping daughter, he smiles kissing the top of her head.

He ends up falling asleep in Iris's bed, Y/n woke up to an empty bed and walked to her daughter's bedroom seeing a sleeping Price and Iris.

Price holding Iris and her face buried into his side. She smiles at her husband and baby girl, she walks in kissing his forehead and kissing Iris's temple.

--------

The next morning Y/n and Iris were in the kitchen and Price was still asleep in his daughter twin size bed. Iris's princess blanket draped over him.

Y/n pushed a mug of hot chocolate to Iris and Y/n stood next to Iris to help her with homework. Price had came out of his daughter's bedroom yawning and looking at his daughter and wife.

He kisses Y/n's neck and kisses Iris's forehead, he fixes himself some tea and leans over the counter watching his two girls.

Iris was writing down what Y/n was telling her, Y/n's right hand moved Iris's dirty blonde hair from her face, looking like the girl version of her father but the feminine features of her mother.

Price sees the paper on 'My Hero' on the counter and placed it back on the fridge, he kisses his daughter's temple and wife's temple before walking into the master bedroom and grabbing his phone.

He was going to fulfil his daughter's wishes and he will stay home today.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x y/n #price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price

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