#he looked a lot creepier then i wanted
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An AI Washington au?
It’s still friday over here! It still counts!
technically this was my attempt at trying warm up sketches. it didn’t work.
anyways, i posted some about my AI Wash AU but this is a scene later on then that taking place in chorus. Having just revealed he’s an AI and the only one not freaking out about it is Caboose. an hour later, they’re still bickering amongst themselves while Wash and Caboose have given up on any sort of conversation with them and have just started play Go Fish.
That is all.
#rvb#red vs blue#rvb washington#rvb caboose#ai wash au#I actually wrote this part#but i probably not going to post it yet#since i'm not sure if it will be a full fic or just a bunch of random oneshots#i tried to draw wash's robot body too#but that didn't work out#he looked a lot creepier then i wanted#maybe i shouldn't have used warframes as referances#nah robowash would look badass with an excaliber umbra frame#or volt#please ignore my ranting in the tags
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Mine All Mine
Michael doesn't have a lot of friends, nor does he want them. Now he thinks he might have found his perfect match, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away
Main Masterlist
Michael Gavey x unnamed female character
Warnings: 18+, smut, Michael Gavey being a little shit (affectionately), possessive behaviour (yk the drill here)
Words: 7k
A/n: This ended up leaning into more of a cuter side, I definitely wanna do something creepier with him at some point! Also available to read on AO3.
He gets to the room early, before the tutor has even arrived. It’s his first tutorial of the year and his first ever at Oxford. He stands straight with his head up and his hands unmoving, a picture of neutrality. He has his problem sheet in his satchel and runs through the questions in his head, not because he needs to, not because he doubts himself, but simply because he can.
He doesn’t even like maths all that much, but he’s always been good at it. He had considered doing something a little less straightforward, physics or economics, but then what would be the point in getting into Oxford to be anything less than perfect?
He knows his tutor’s name from his schedule, Stephen Breyer. He arrives only a few minutes later and they go inside. The tutorial room is small, with three of the four walls covered in bookshelves. In the centre of the room there is a table, an armchair on one side and a small sofa on the other.
Michael takes the seat closest to the door. It puts him in a slightly more direct line of sight with Stephen. It also means his tutorial partner will inevitably have to climb over his legs to sit down and the thought amuses him.
“How are you finding it so far?” Stephen asks, unpacking a thermos flask and a notebook from his bag.
“It?” Michael repeats.
Stephen pauses and looks at him, slightly bewildered. “Well, the course, the college, Oxford. All of it.”
“Right,” Michael says. He takes his time taking out a pencil and his problem sheet before placing them on the table. He sits back against the sofa and rubs his lips together in thought.
He supposes it’s been exactly as he had expected. Lectures have been fairly straightforward, Lincoln college looks the same as it had in the prospectus, and so far, most of the people seem insufferable. So many of them have no sense of urgency, no drive to truly succeed because to them, Oxford is a rite of passage rather than an earned privilege. He’s met maybe one person he’d consider worthy of his time, and even then, Oliver Quick is only a literature student. He might as well get a degree in overthinking.
Stephen is looking at him like he is still expecting an answer. Michael stares back. He’s never been one to bother with smalltalk.
“Alright then,” Stephen says, then nods to the empty place on the sofa. “Do you know if–”
The door opens and a girl walks in, closing it gently behind her. “Sorry I’m late,” she says, eyes flickering around the room and settling on the space beside Michael.
He’s seen her before, in lectures, in the dining hall, walking around the college with her little group of friends. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were all Cheltenham girls by the way they talk and dress in the stupid outfits rich girls wear to make themselves seem like normal people.
He watches her as she walks towards him, the awkward little smile she gives him before she steps over his legs.
“Sorry,” she says again, falling onto the sofa. Michael almost winces at the sudden jolt of movement and the faint scent of a sweet perfume drifting from his left. “Had some trouble finding the room.”
“You’re right on time,” Stephen says, “we haven’t started yet.”
She’s better at the smalltalk than he is. She has a constant smile on her face and a bright look in her eyes, already having plenty of humorous anecdotes to share, despite the fact it’s only their second week.
As they go through the questions on the sheet, comparing calculations and answers, Michael is horrified to find that he’s a little nervous. His throat feels dry and he can feel his heart pulsing in his chest. It’s her fault, he thinks. Everything about her is distracting, the sound of her voice, the satisfied little hum she makes when she realises she’s got another question right. Her black tights, the way her skirt rides up her thigh when she crosses her legs.
He wants to think she’s vapid, a pretty face dressed up in black boots and a denim jacket, but to his dismay, all of their answers are the same, down to every detail in their calculations.
That is until they reach the last question. It’s terribly complex and he had almost struggled with it. Almost.
He steals a quick glance at her sheet and notices their answers are different. Because she’s missed a step, he realises. He feels a smile creeping across his lips.
He proudly goes through his working out, delighted at the surprised look on her face as she goes over her own sheet.
“I got something different,” she says with a shrug.
Stephen invites her to talk through her answer. Her voice is quieter and softer than it was before, but not as defeated as he’d like.
“She has you beat there, Mr Gavey,” Stephen says.
It’s like being punched in the gut. “What?”
“Overextend yourself a little,” he explains, drawing a line through the last few calculations on his paper. “Make sure to read what the question asks of you.”
His blood is boiling and his fists are clenched. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been wrong. A dangerous impulse in the back of his mind wants to scream his throat raw and tear his paper to pieces.
Then he feels a warmth settle over his knuckles. She’s placed her hand over his.
“It’s a compliment, really,” she says to him.
He looks up at her, only more infuriated by the gentle expression on her face. But he knows better than to let anger get the better of him. It will only leave him feeling ashamed. So he forces a smile and nods. “Thank you.”
She smiles too, sweet and reassuring.
He can’t bear the humiliation. Once they’re dismissed he packs up quickly, practically storming out of the room before she even has a chance to stand up.
He spends the rest of the day in his dorm, looking over the same problem and pulling at his hair, because now his mistake seems glaringly obvious. How could he be so useless? So careless as to not even read the fucking question properly?
His room is on the second floor, overlooking the quad. There are always people around, walking between classes, sitting on the grass, their voices and the smell of cigarette smoke rising and drifting in through his window. He hates it. He hates the noise, the distraction.
But as he goes to close the open window he spots her. It’s only for a moment. She’s walking towards the library with her hands in the pocket of her jacket and her backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s not with any of her preppy friends, in fact she looks rather solemn.
He feels a slight twinge of guilt in his gut. Perhaps he had been a little unfair to her in their tutorial.
He keeps noticing her, especially at meal times and during lectures. Whenever he enters a room he finds himself searching for her, and if he cannot find her, he waits for her to appear. He plays guessing games with himself, waiting to see what outfit she’ll wear, the pretty mini skirt or a pair of faded blue baggy jeans. If she’ll be with her friends or if she’ll be alone.
He never approaches her. He waits for her to look at him, and once they’ve made eye contact she’ll smile at him.
He likes watching her, and comes to the conclusion that she is charming and polite, but not overbearing, and that’s what's so intriguing about her. She knows how to talk to people, even the most insufferable of their peers, but she’s not nearly entitled enough to truly be one of them.
It’s a Friday evening the next time they actually speak. The library tends to be quieter at this time and he has a textbook to look over before his next lecture. Only, when he goes to find the book, he discovers the last copy has been checked out a matter of minutes ago. Fucking typical.
He goes to stalk out of the library, debating whether or not he can be bothered to ask Oliver if he wants to grab a drink in The King’s Arms, when he sees her.
She’s alone, with her chin in her palm, writing in a notebook as she looks at the textbook open in front of her. He’s willing to bet that’s exactly the book he needs.
He approaches her slowly, waiting for her to look up and notice him, but she seems utterly absorbed in what she’s doing. Only when he puts a hand on the back of her chair and leans over her shoulder does she react to him.
He sees her jump when he gets too close. “Jesus Christ!” she hisses, clutching her hand over her chest.
“Sorry,” he mutters, still hovering over her. “Did I frighten you?”
She hums a laugh but composes herself quite quickly. She turns her head to look at him. “I’m guessing you want the book?” she says, her breath fluttering over his cheek.
He straightens his back so he can look down at her. “Will you have it for long? Only I think I’ll get through the reading quite quickly.”
“Oh yes of course, you’re a genius, right?” she says with a grin.
Irritation scratches under the surface of his skin, hot and restless. That’s how he usually introduces himself, but it’s the truth.
“We could just share,” she says, gesturing to the empty seat beside her, “that is, unless you don’t think I’ll be able to keep up.”
There’s something exciting about the way she holds his gaze, the hint of a smile on her lips.
She offers to go back a page so he can catch up and admittedly, he skims through, only writing down a few notes before he tells her to move on. He can find the book again if he really needs to.
He has to lean over his left arm rather significantly to read the book properly. She notices this, and pushing it closer to him, shuffling her chair over to follow. They’re close enough that he can smell her perfume again.
“None of your little friends around then?” he asks quietly, so as not to disturb the other students.
“What?”
“That group of girls,” he says, “I’ve seen you sitting with them in the dining hall.”
She brings her chin back to her palm but doesn’t look up from her notes. “They live on my floor. I don’t need to spend every waking moment with them.”
“Touchy subject?” he asks, perhaps a little too hopefully.
His heart leaps in triumph when she looks up at him. “No. I’m just not sure I’d count them as friends, necessarily.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Not my kind of people,” she says.
“Why not?”
She frowns briefly. He thinks she might scold him for being so direct, for asking so many questions, for being too intrusive. But she doesn’t.
The textbook is forgotten. She tells him about the village where she grew up, a sad little place by the sounds of it. She spent most of her schooling surrounded by the same twenty or so kids.
“For a long time, I knew there was something people didn’t like about me,” she says. “I didn’t understand why. I was never rude or cruel, I just kept my head down and did my work. The other girls told me I was a freak, the boys used to tease me, pull my hair, tear pages out of my books. Mum said people hated me because I was clever. Dad said I should stop complaining. So I did.”
He can’t help but draw a comparison to himself. He can feel it when he meets someone new, the inherent distrust, the sense that there is something inherently unlikeable about him. In a way he likes that people are unnerved by him because at least it’s something he can control. He has never been one for friends or common ground, a consequence of being the smartest person in every room.
He watches her intently as she tells him about a private school a few miles outside of her village, a proper posh place, Victorian buildings and sprawling estates. For her, it was her one chance of escape, and while her parents worked hard to make ends meet, the only way she was going to get in was with a scholarship. So she worked for it, got all A*s in her GCSEs, started at the posh school, and from there, set her sights on Oxford.
“You’re rather deceptive,” he says.
She smiles at him. “It’s not like I lied. Were you expecting a daddy’s money brat?”
“There’s enough of them about,” he says.
She huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes. “Fucking tell me about it.”
They start to make a habit of studying together, at first it’s by coincidence, and then she gives him her number so they can organise themselves more effectively. They meet at the library every Friday to share a textbook or go over problem sheets, in preparation for their lectures. They even start to meet before their tutorials together, to compare answers and make sure neither of them are left out. Sometimes they go for coffee after their classes, and branch off to chat about things that aren’t maths.
He tells her about the grammar school he went to, that most of the boys there were rugby playing morons. He tells her about his family, his mum, his dad, the family cat that’s been around longer than he has. He tells her about his summer, running numbers for his uncle’s accountancy firm.
She tells him about the posh school, that starting at a boarding school was like being thrown into a different universe. Sure, she had been the odd one out and got the odd “povo” comment, but it was the first place where she had felt like she didn’t have to be ashamed of her own intelligence. She learnt how to fit in, to the point where he can’t tell if she actually likes her preppy friends or if she just puts up with them for the sake of it.
He starts to wonder if he could consider her a friend. He likes that she’s smart and sharp, the slight air of competition when they compare notes or go through a problem together. He likes challenging her, making her second guess herself, watching the way she squirms and tries to hide that she’s flustered. Just once, he thinks it would be fun to one-up her, but of course, she never slips up, and she never makes a mistake.
On Halloween she mentions a party at Magdalene College being hosted by one of her old school friends. Of course he’s sceptical. Hanging around a bunch of stuck up posh kids, who no doubt will all be in slutty costumes and getting off on each other’s egos, isn’t exactly his idea of fun. Although, part of him is intrigued to see her in a different setting.
So he agrees to meet her outside her dorm at 10pm exactly. He doesn’t bother with fancy dress, opting for jeans and a black jumper so that he can just fade into the background.
She appears with some of her preppy friends. They’re all in pastel dresses of differing colours, matching wings strung on their backs, glitter on their cheeks, a little pack of fairies. She’s in white mini dress that floats around her thighs as she moves, more like an angel.
She introduces him enthusiastically to the girls, already giddy from their pre-drinks, pink gin and rosé. None of them seem that interested by his presence and he grunts in response.
She links her arm through his as they walk over the cobbles, through the maze of ancient buildings to the dorm where the party is being held. She talks about everything and nothing. She tells him who’s going to be there, who’s been uninvited but might show up just to stir shit, how many girls are going to be there and that they’re all going to be trying to get into Felix Catton’s Calvin Kleins.
“Are you going to get with anyone?” she asks.
He makes a sound of disgust.
“Come on, Michael, live a little!”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think– I don’t know–”
She puts her hands on his shoulders and turns him to face her. “Have you kissed anyone before?”
He swallows thickly. It’s not something he’s ever been ashamed of before, now it feels like a weight crushing down on his chest. “No,” he says, simply, determined to remain indifferent.
“Get with someone tonight!” she says excitedly, “just for the fun of it, we’ll find you someone good.”
He hates the idea, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Perhaps it seems like fun to her, but to him it seems like an impossibility, and he thinks he’d rather have the consistency of being unwanted.
The party itself is loud and sparsely lit by neon lights. He starts off on bottles of beer to ease himself into it, but seeing everyone else is doing pills and white lines, he thinks he might need something stronger to get through the night, especially when she keeps getting distracted. The angel is quite the social butterfly and insists on saying hello to everyone, even the people she’s never met.
He finds himself in a common room and reaches for a bottle of whisky and a cup when he spots her. She’s leaning against a wall, wings discarded on the floor beside her. A tall boy, wearing nothing but jeans, a pair of feathery costume wings and a horrible Carpe Diem tattoo on his forearm, has his hands on her waist. She’s smiling and giggling into his neck every time he goes in to kiss her. Of all the girls Felix could go after.
His skin feels tight. He fears if he keeps having to watch this little display he’ll retch his guts up, and yet he’s utterly hypnotised by it, the way she had her arms around his shoulders, the way her fingertips trace the base of his neck. And fuck, he’s never seen her look so beautiful.
He ends up downing the rest of the whisky straight from the bottle and most of the night becomes a blur after that. At some point he thinks he starts trying to talk to one of her pastel fairy friends. He doesn’t catch her name, and he wouldn’t care to remember it anyway. She plays with his glasses, tries them on and giggles hysterically. He thinks she must be completely off her face, considering the look of utter disgust she had given him at the start of the night.
Somewhere in the noise of the party she throws her arms around his neck and they sway clumsily to the overwhelming bass of the music. He thinks he feels her lips graze his cheek, his jaw, his neck, but where he can help it, he keeps his eyes on his angel. Felix has one of her legs around his waist and his hands halfway up her skirt.
Fuck this.
He pushes the nameless girl off him and storms over to put an end to the scene before him. He grips Felix by his shoulders to pull him off her, grabs her by the arm and drags her out of the dorm. He doesn’t look back to see if Felix protests, he’ll probably find some other throat to stick his tongue down.
She tries to shout over the music. “Where are we–”
“I’m tired,” he snaps, bringing his face in close to hers. He gets closer than he means to, pressing his nose and his forehead against hers. He’s breathing fiercely, he realises, desperate to contain the full extent of his anger, his jealousy. “I want to leave.”
She stares back at him with parted lips, and nods.
He feels better the moment they’re outside, away from the disorientation of the party. He takes deep breaths of the night air, cold and sharp in his lungs. He snatches off his glasses, runs his hands over his face and his hair to find himself drenched in sweat.
His angel tucks herself in against him, under his arm, huddling her arms around herself and shivering.
“Do you want my jumper?” he says. His voice and the words on his tongue feel strange. His limbs feel weightless as he pulls it off and helps her into it.
“Hmm, thank you,” she says dreamily, clinging onto his arm as they stumble back to Lincoln College. He burns where she touches him, her fingertips digging into his skin. He loves it, and hates that her hands were on someone else before him.
“You were getting rather cozy with Miranda,” she says.
“Who?”
“Lilac fairy costume,” she says, playfully hitting his arm. “Did you kiss her?”
His heart sinks. He presses his lips together but she doesn’t seem to pick up on his annoyance. “No,” he says with a tight jaw.
“Oh no,” she says, looking up at him with a comically sad pout.
“It’s not important,” he says.
“It’s your first kiss! Or should have been your first kiss. It’s important. Did you at least have a good time before you got tired?”
“No,” he says, “your friends are all imbeciles.”
They walk the rest of the way back to her dorm in silence. He makes sure she has her keys, holds her face between his hands and tells her to drink a whole glass of water before she falls asleep.
She leans into his touch with a sleepy smile. “Yes, yes, I will,” she whines.
The sound stirs a wanting in his stomach. Suddenly his heart is beating faster than it ever has before.
“And call me if you need anything–”
“Would you want to kiss me?” she asks.
His eyes flicker down to her lips. His hands are still cupping her cheeks. “What?”
Her eyes are wide and alert. “I just mean, I could be your first kiss, if you wanted to.” She places her hands on his wrists, tracing her fingertips over his skin, along his forearms. It’s such a simple touch, and yet he can feel it driving him slowly insane.
He imagines her hands running over the rest of his body, down his chest, his stomach, teasing over the growing hardness in his jeans.
“You’re drunk,” he whispers, terrified of how desperate his voice might sound.
She rises onto her toes, inching her face closer to his, drawing her nose over his cheek. “So?” she says, lips brushing over his skin, “I promise it’ll feel good.”
Their lips find each other in a simple movement. It’s easier than he thought it would be, following the movements of her mouth, letting his hands fall from her face and rest on her waist. He can feel her breathing, the little hums she makes as she kisses him and runs her hands through his hair.
He decides, in that moment, that she is perfect. She is bright and beautiful, passionate and kind, soft and sharp, everything he wants for himself, the only person he has ever felt a need for. That need burns through his bloodstream, goes straight to his head and makes his mind hazy. It tightens in his gut and only makes that wanting feeling in his chest feel emptier. His heart races, his trembling hands graze over the thin, silky material of her dress.
His glasses come askew. He feels her smile against his lips and it feels good. Really fucking good.
His hands clench into a firmer grip on her waist. He needs to keep her close, to touch her, feel her, know she wants this as much as he does.
Only she’s slipping away.
Her hands come away from his neck and the cold night air stings his skin in her absence. She pulls her head away, not abruptly, but that’s the pain of it. He leans forward to chase her lips but he has no choice but to let her go in the end.
She looks up at him with a vague smile. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it?”
Nice in the moment. Pure torture that he’ll have to spend the rest of the night clinging onto the memory, only able to imagine how good it felt.
After that night he cannot escape the thought of her, when he’s in his lectures, when he’s in the library, when he’s walking between classes, when he’s in the dining hall. If he’s with her he cannot help but notice every little detail about her, her clothes, her hands, the colour of her nail polish, every micro expression, every word, every laugh, every sigh.
And when he’s alone, he can’t help but picture her in that white dress, the sound of her voice, the feel of her lips. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to run his hands over every inch of her skin and make her a breathless, whining mess. When he’s in his dorm, it’s inevitable that his hand will end up dipping into his boxers, stroking himself until he spills over his knuckles with a grunt or a whisper of her name.
He’s never known himself to be so distracted.
Worst of all is the rage that comes with the wanting. He hates walking into the lecture hall to see her chatting to someone else, seeing her with her preppy friends around the college or drinking with that old school friend in the King’s Arms. None of them deserve her. None of them. Does she even realise it? How long before she loses herself, before she decides she doesn’t need him?
He knows he’s not a sentimental person. He doesn’t have a lot of friends nor does he want them. People have come in and out of his life, but this girl is different. He feels a draw to her, a hunger that he can’t satiate with his own imagination. She is everything he wants for himself, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away.
As Michaelmas terms comes to an end, the colleges and libraries are covered with garlands and wreaths. Despite the lingering worry in the back of his mind, Michael is rather happy with his collection of outcasts, though poor Oliver Quick seems rather unhappy at being a designated Norman-No Mates.
He finds it easier to get her attention as the term and the workload progresses. They’ve had tutorials and summative assignments, and she’s finally starting to struggle.
And then there was the incident about the scholarship. One of the preppy friends let slip that she wasn’t paying for her tuition fees or her accommodation, likely done out of jealousy after she’d gotten close to Felix at the Halloween party. He was there for her with a perfectly good shoulder to cry on when half the girls in her dorm started teasing her for it.
He tells her that she doesn’t have time to get distracted with parties or friends who won’t help her succeed.
He’s sitting at a table in the library, ready for one of their Friday evening study dates. She’s late but soon hurries in, pulling off the thick red scarf she has wrapped around her neck and shrugging off her denim jacket.
He has the textbook open at the right page and places a Crunchie in front of her when she sits down.
“Did you know there was a college Christmas party tonight?” Michael asks as she takes down her notes. “We’re NFI, apparently. Not fucking invited.” He’d checked his pigeonhole, and Oliver’s for good measure.
In the corner of his eye, he sees her look up from her notebook.
“As if we’d actually want to hang out with those vapid cunts,” he says, laughing to himself. He turns his head to check if she’s laughing too.
She doesn’t look very amused. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me,” she says.
He pauses, hovering his pencil over his worksheet. “You got an invitation?” he says quietly.
“Yeah,” she says, “I was chatting with some of the literature guys the other day, you know Farleigh Start–”
“What the fuck were you talking to him for?” He asks in a voice like ice.
She stares at him with wide, almost accusing eyes. “What, am I not allowed to talk to anyone besides you?”
“They’re not worth your time so stop acting like a fucking bootlicker” he hisses. “They’re all self-obsessed and cruel, and I don’t know why you’re so desperate for their approval.”
“Desperate,” she echoes.
The silence of the library is screaming at him. He has an awful feeling in his stomach, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s pushed a little too far.
It’s Halloween all over again. He can feel her slipping away, and he can’t reach out for her, can’t hold onto her and make her stay where he wants her. He curls his fists as he feels his body start to tremble.
“I guess I won’t waste any more of your precious time then,” she says sharply as she starts to pack up her things.
“No,” Michael utters. He reaches his hand up as if to stop her but she stands up, out of his reach. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She throws on her jacket, wraps her scarf around her neck and turns around, glaring down at him with sad, glassy eyes. “I need to get ready,” she says. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” Then she sweeps out of the hall with a cold rush of air and a slam of the doors.
Michael groans and lets his head fall into his hands. How had he managed to fuck up that badly?
He can’t think about the problems on the sheet in front of him, or think about the reading from the textbook. All he can picture is her in some skimpy dress, letting some sick trust fund baby put his hands all over her. It makes him want to tear his hair out.
He stays there until the evening has turned to night, until any other stragglers have left the library, to attend this stupid Christmas party or to make their own fun.
He can’t understand why she keeps trying to befriend the people who would abandon her the moment they got bored of her, the very same people who shamed her for her scholarship.
He’d never leave her, never let her feel anything less than worshipped.
When he finally packs up his bag he finds himself walking to her dorm. A few girls are leaving as he arrives at the building and he easily slips in while they’re busy chatting. He knows which floor she’s on, and then all he has to do is find her name on one of the doors… and there it is, under the number 205. Perfect.
He glances up and down the hall. It’s deathly quiet. He wonders how many students have already cleared out of their rooms, how many will be at this party, at the pub with their friends.
He can hear music on the other side of the door, a voice singing softly to a song he doesn’t know.
He brings his knuckles up and taps four times against the wood.
She seems happy when she opens the door, but her face falls when she realises it’s him.
He buries his hands in his pockets, keeps his chin down as he looks up at her. “I need to talk to you,” he says.
She sighs and purses her lips, but steps aside enough for him to come into her room.
It’s not as neat as he imagined, but it’s cosy. There are photos and posters all over the walls, clothes strewn everywhere, an opened makeup bag on the floor by the mirror, pieces of paper and used mugs on the desk. His eyes are drawn to her bed, to the colourful comforter tossed carelessly over the duvet and the pile of mismatched pillows. It smells like her perfume, and something else that is distinctly her.
A red dress hangs on the front of her wardrobe, her outfit for the party, he guesses. For now she’s dressed in her favourite pair of baggy jeans and a tank top, her hair slightly damp and her skin dewy.
She sits on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed. She doesn’t prompt him, but he knows what she wants to hear.
He stands in front of her, his knees almost touching the bed. He tries not to look at the cut of her tank top, the way it clings to her torso and teases the swell of her breasts.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “You were right, I was being unfair.”
She looks up at him, furrowing her brows and catching her lip between her teeth, like she always does when she’s thinking. It makes his stomach drop.
“You can be cruel too, you know that?” she says, “and so full of yourself, but you hold it against everyone else you meet.”
“But I’d never lie to you,” he says, “and I’ve never pretended to be someone I’m not.”
She keeps frowning. “Neither have I.”
He hums a laugh. He can’t help but reach for her, taking her chin between his fingers. She doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t question it when he gently strokes his index finger over her cheek. “Silly girl,” he says, “you care too much about what people think of you. You’re smarter than that, but you’re happy to hide it.”
Her breath hitches as tilts her head further back and lets his thumb drag over her lower lip.
“Michael,” she utters, pressing her palms against his chest, but not enough to push him away. Her hands grip at the collar of his jumper and she nudges her nose against his.
He doesn’t know where the sudden recklessness comes from. Perhaps it’s in the way she said his name, the way her eyes are gazing up at him, but every part of him feels hollow.
He leans in closer. “Why bother? Why do you want to dumb yourself down when I could just fuck you stupid?”
She leans in to kiss him and he indulges her, letting his hand settle against her cheek as they clash together in a mess of lips and tongues. It’s more frantic than the night of the Halloween party, wetter, clumsier.
She comes up onto her knees, snaking one of her hands down to the hem of his jumper.
“Have you fucked a girl before, Gavey?” she says between their kisses. He can feel her smiling.
“No,” he says, practically tearing his jumper and his shirt off, “but I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“Anyone in particular?” she says, palming over the bulge in his jeans.
“Who do you fucking think?”
His hands are on the buttons of her jeans, ripping them open, dragging them down her legs before she’s on her knees again. He slips his hand between her legs, against her clothed centre and she ruts against him like a bitch in heat.
With his other hand he grabs at her waist, impatiently pulling her tank top over her head to reveal a lacy black bra underneath. He can’t stop himself, planting firm, desperate kisses over the flesh of her chest as he undoes the clasp.
He tosses her bra aside and takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and circling his tongue over the sensitive bud. He loves how she whines for him, how she runs her fingers through his hair and pulls when it feels good.
And then her phone rings.
She sighs in frustration before she shoves Michael away and crawls over to the table by her bed.
Michael groans at the loss, wanting nothing more than to grab her and pull her back across the bed. “Who is it?” he asks, adjusting his glasses.
“Could be Farleigh, or one of the girls, I said I’d meet them before the party–”
That’s all he needs to hear. In an instant he’s on top of her, pinning her wrist to the mattress so she can’t reach her phone, legs on either side of her body as he presses her down.
She writhes underneath him, unintentionally grinding her rear into his crotch. She tries to turn her head over her shoulder, but it’s hard when she’s caged in underneath him. “Michael! What the fuck are you–”
“When are you going to get it into that pretty little head that you don’t need them?” he says, letting his lips brush against the shell of her ear. He feels her shudder, feels her heartbeat racing against his chest.
“I know I don’t need them,” she says.
“Hmm,” he says, leaning back to undo his jeans enough to free his hard and eager cock. I’m not convinced.”
He takes his time pulling her panties down her legs, kneads at her thighs and her ass, pulls her hips up and parts her legs so he can get a look at her slick, glistening cunt. He’s almost fascinated by it, drawing his thumb through her folds, noticing how she reacts to his touch, the sounds she makes, the way she fists the bedsheets when he gets close to her clit, but just enough to keep her on edge.
“I could be so good to you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder, “so fucking good, so why do you act like you don’t need me?”
“I do,” she breathes, interrupting herself with a light moan when he presses firmly against her clit. “I do need you.”
“There you go, you’re starting to get it,” he coos, circling over her most sensitive spot with the pads of his fingers. He may not have the practice but he has the knowledge, and he needs this to feel good for her.
She responds beautifully, sighing and rocking her hips against him, and she just melts when he presses the tip of his cock against her entrance.
He has to push harder than he expects, pausing when she gives a little yelp of what sounds like pain, but she assures him she’s fine.
He grabs her hip for leverage, hissing through his teeth as he pushes in deeper. She’s so tight, so wet, so warm.
“You can move,” she says, letting her head fall against her arm. “Please, I need it.”
He starts slowly, focuses on the drag of his cock through her, the way she stretches around him, but he can’t hold back for long. Once he finds a rhythm he gets a little more reckless, snapping his hips against her rear, keeping his harsh grasp on her flesh as he fucks her into the mattress.
Her moans are heavenly and obscene. She’s given up struggling but she’s trying to look at him, trying to touch him but she can’t. She calls his name and it sounds so pathetic but so endearing.
He chuckles lowly to himself. “Silly little slut, didn’t know what she was missing, did she?”
“No,” she whines. He can feel her clenching around him and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to last. “Fuck, Michael, it feels so good…”
He pulls out of her, only to turn her back and slam back in. Suddenly she’s all over him, running her hands down his torso, wrapping her arms around his neck. She has her face buried into the crook of his neck, grazing her lips, tongue and teeth over his skin.
It feels good to have her close, but he’s still not entirely satisfied.
He pulls away to hold her down again, one hand on her throat, the other on her stomach. “Mine.” he huffs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “All mine. Fucking say it.”
She places her hands over his, urging him to hold her tighter, press harder. “Yours,” she utters, “all yours.”
“Good fucking girl,” he groans, and feels her respond to his voice, cunt fluttering, back arching, another whine sounding in her throat— maybe she likes that. “My clever little girl.”
He feels her come undone around him, back arching as he lets out a breathless moan, practically squeezing him to his own release.
He pulls out and with a few strokes of his hand, paints her belly and her thighs with his spend.
She’s trembling, smiling, reaching out to touch him again, grabbing at his wrists and pulling herself up. She guides him to lay back in the bed and straddles him, tracing her finger over his lips, his jaw, along his nose to push his glasses up for him. He can hardly see through them, the lenses fogged up and smeared with sweat.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” she says.
“Yeah,” he breathes, pawing at her hips, watching his cum as it drips down her body. He can feel a sense of pride swelling in his chest, the arousal in his gut starting to tighten again.
He gasps when she drags her wet cunt over his already hardening cock. “You.. want to go again?”
She tilts her head, looking down at him with that familiar excited look in her eyes as her mouth spreads into an eager grin. “You’re adorable,” she says, tracing her fingertips over his chest, down the lines of his abs, to the trail of thin hair on his navel.
She leans down, reaching between them to take his cock in her hand, moving with agonisingly slow strokes. When he tries to protest she silences him with little more than a peck on his lips, before she trails down to his throat. “I stand by what I said, Gavey, and you’re not leaving this bed until we’ve taken that ego of yours down a notch.”
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Chocolates vs Aliens
Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!
A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??
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"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.
"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.
And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.
Just a tad...
"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.
"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.
"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.
Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."
"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.
Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".
He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)
"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.
"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.
"Eddie." Venom's voice said.
"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.
His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.
You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.
"Oh." Eddie mumbled.
He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.
"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.
'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.
"No, Eddie. Wait."
"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.
You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.
Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.
Which... brought up the question.
"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."
"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.
"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.
You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"
"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.
"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.
"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"
"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.
"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.
Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.
"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.
"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.
"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.
"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"
"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.
Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...
"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."
Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"
Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"
"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.
"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"
Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.
"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."
"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.
"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."
Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"
"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"
Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.
"How uh, far along are you?"
"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."
"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"
"Yes!" You laugh.
Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"
Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.
Nope. Not at all.
You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.
"Uh...."
Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"
"Weak." Venom mocked.
"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.
"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"
Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.
"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.
"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.
She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.
"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."
The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.
"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.
"Pff, moron."
'Parasite.'
"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"
"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."
"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.
"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"
Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.
"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"
Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.
Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.
"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.
"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.
Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.
"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.
You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.
That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.
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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.
You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.
Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.
Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.
Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.
Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.
Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.
But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...
He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!
When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.
He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.
A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!
But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.
And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.
Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...
And saw him.
Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.
As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.
Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"
You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.
"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.
You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.
That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.
He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.
"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"
You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.
You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.
You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.
By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.
You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.
But then you remembered...
The big guy.
You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.
But the only person you ever told that to was...
You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.
"How do you know..." You breathed.
His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.
"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"
You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.
So, you nodded.
"Okay."
You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.
But it's not just any man.
It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.
"You--!"
"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.
You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"
"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.
You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.
"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"
You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.
"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.
You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.
"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.
"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"
"You were worried, too!"
"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"
Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.
Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.
You took it better than he expected. Way better.
"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.
"...Eddie." you said slowly.
"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.
"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."
"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.
"Well, yeah, and--"
"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.
In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.
Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."
You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.
"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.
"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.
"Claimed me." You repeated.
"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."
"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."
"Venom!" Eddie snapped.
"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--
And now... was he saying...
"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.
"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"
The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?
Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.
"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."
"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.
Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"
You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.
"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"
"Oh, my god, that does not count--"
"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.
"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.
The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.
"Okay." You said.
All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.
"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.
Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.
Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.
When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.
But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.
"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."
"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."
"What?!" You sputter.
"You're having a little girl, by the way."
🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫
You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.
Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.
Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.
He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.
Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.
Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.
The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.
Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.
Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?
Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!
How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!
This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...
But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.
But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!
One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.
Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.
Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.
"The baby is a girl." He said.
"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.
"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."
"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.
"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"
You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...
Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.
"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."
"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."
You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.
Yeah...
Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.
#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x venom x reader#eddie brock x venom#eddie x reader#venom x eddie x reader#symbrock x reader
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imagine a yandere! florist 🌷
yandere! florist who is tired of his every day life. it is a never ending cycle
that is until . . . . . he saw YOU ♡
yandere! florist who, at first, doesn't care. he just saw you as a normal person (with unreal beauty, might i add) who just happens to always visit the bookstore in front of the flower shop he works on
yandere! florist who starts to see you frequently, and couldn't help but get curious as to why you always visit the bookstore in front of the shop.
i mean, could you at least go to HIS shop? pretty please? 😩
yandere! florist who couldn't help but feel overjoyed when you actually went to his shop. hooray for him
saying you ordered for a bouquet of ROSES. hmmm red?
i wonder who is it for ? your lover maybe? oh no that shouldn't be possible. you are his.
so when yandere! florist asked who's it for, you should answer honestly, alright? SO WHO'S IT FOR?
oh? what you've ordered was wrong? whew, you almost gave him a heart attack darling :3
it's actually WHITE ROSES, for a family member ig???
yandere! florist who prepared the bouquet for you (lmao expect his number on a seperate card inside the bouquet)
yandere! florist who told you to come anytime :> you are always welcome here 🥳
yandere! florist who starts to stalk you on the daily. :))
no problem with that right??? yeah, thought so too.
yandere! florist who figured out where you live !!!!
you can expect random flowers that are associated with "romantic love" by your door step :> you're welcome, my dearest.
oh love, it's very fun seeing you look around for whoever the flowers are from. you look so cute :3 he wanna squish you :>
yandere! florist who (finally) mustered up enough courage to actually give the flowers to you. FACE TO FACE 🙀
like omg can this even get any more creepier ROMANTIC?
yandere! florist who did his very best to pour all his affection to you :>
in short, he's proving to you that he's hubby material 🥰🥰🥰
yandere! florist who has vendetta against the librarian
yes he considers that librarian his rival when it comes to winning your love ♡
to anyone who wants to add anything in here, feel free to do so :>
yeah this is so rushed >:D anyways, i would like to thank everyone for supporting my mini writings :3 (love lots)
and btw mga dude, there will be a yandere! librarian next. ay na'spill. keme keme keme :3 see you next time guys
#yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere boyfriend x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere male#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere florist#yandere themes#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere male x reader#yandere bf#yandere x y/n#yandere headcanons#yandere hcs#yandere blurb#yandere scenarios
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A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)
Hope you enjoy!
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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.
Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.
"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"
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When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).
"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."
"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"
"Far away, I hope."
Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.
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To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.
"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.
"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.
"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."
"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.
"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."
Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Alastor."
"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"
"You're always lying. That's your thing."
"...Touché."
Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.
"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"
"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."
She perks up.
"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."
Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.
"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"
"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."
Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."
Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.
"What's so funny about that?"
"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."
Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."
"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.
"So you better watch your step, Mister."
"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."
Charlie brightens. "Really?"
"No."
The princess deflates.
He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.
The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.
She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.
...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.
In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.
Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...
Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.
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If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.
But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.
To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.
But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.
"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.
"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.
"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.
"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.
"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"
No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.
Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.
The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).
"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"
"Are you seriously ticklish?"
"No!"
In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.
"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.
"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.
Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.
That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.
"Awww!" Charlie coos.
"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.
There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.
That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.
"What was that about not being ticklish?"
His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"
Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.
"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."
"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"
Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...
For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.
But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.
"Do your worst, my dear."
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To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!
Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕
💜 - Cozy
#lee!alastor#ticklish!alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel tickles#oh deer he's ticklish#ler!charlie#hazbin hotel tickling#ticklefic#tickle fic#tickle headcanons#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel spoilers
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talk of the town - will smith
tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...
wc: 1.4k
will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister
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dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.
even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.
the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.
influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.
her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.
she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)
there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.
the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.
she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.
"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.
"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.
"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.
"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.
the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.
"ask her"
"no thats weird"
"ill ask"
"your tiktok famous huh"
she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.
"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.
"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.
she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.
"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"
"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.
"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.
dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.
"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"
"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.
oh god it was a hot topic?
"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.
"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"
"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.
"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.
hes hot
"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"
"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.
"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.
"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.
"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.
"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.
"game?" Dylan said confused.
"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.
"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.
"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.
"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.
"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.
"her names frankie by the way"
"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.
"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.
"marketing. you?"
"communications"
"your quite the communicator then" she said.
oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?
what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.
"im sorry?"
"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.
"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.
"well what do you want to be?"
"a hockey player."
"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)
"and what do you want to be"
"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"
"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.
"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.
he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.
"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.
"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.
"look for 6" will said to her.
"six what?" she said confused.
"what?" he said equally confused now
"six of what" she said cluelessly.
"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.
"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.
gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.
"you are such a flirt"
"that was painful"
"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"
"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.
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im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.
#nhl imagine#ryan leonard#gabe perreault#nhl imagines#will smith hockey#bc hockey#hockey fic#will smith x reader#gabe perreault x reader#ryan leonard x reader
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TWST Monster AU Ideas (NSFW)
>ageless and minors dni<
IDK if I'm gonna do an AU where NRC is just filled with non-humans and MC is the only human or have a completely different setting where it's basically fantasy village filled with the TWST boys but monsters. For beastmen basically just give them animal heads and like... Fantasy beastfolk. Same with mers they're basically the same but more monster features.
Either way I want thoughts on what monsters each guy would be
Riddle - Centaur- based off competitive/show horse
Ace - Satyr (maybe make shortstack for size diff)
Deuce - Rabbitfolk/half rabbitfolk? (Shortstack?)
Cater - Slime/ooze (Can do the duplication spell but not because he just splits himself)
Trey - Minotaur
Leona - Lionfolk/Leonin
Ruggie - Hyenafolk/Gnoll
Jack - Wolffolk/worgen
Azul - Octomer but big/kraken?
Jade & Floyd - Eel mer but more monsterous (more teeth and creepier)
Kalim - Harpy (parrot or bird of paradise based)
Jamil - Naga (definitely keeping the hypnotism)
Vil - Incubus ;)
Rook - Bugbear/firbolg/troll idk something big with a tail and some tusks mayhaps
Epel - fairy/pixie (even more size difference)
Idia - Ghost
Malleus - Dragon (basically the same but humanoid form is glamour and still he has lots of scales and his tail and wings and of course horns)
Lilia - Bat monster (basically giant bat with some human-like features)
Silver - Centaur (based off work/war horse)
Sebek - Lizardfolk/Drake/Dragonborn/maybe kobold? (for size difference)
Neige - Angel
Che’nya - Catfolk/Tabaxi
Dire Crowley - Crow harpy
Divus Crewel - Human? Maybe breeds monsters like monster husbandry.
Mozus Trein - Human? Maybe also a monster fucker so monster fucker mentor? Or just the friend that judges your taste.
Ashton Vargas - Chimera/Manticore (looking like Beast)
Sam - Undead? Ghoul/zombie? A friend from the other side?
Please reply or send me an ask with your thoughts!
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Hiiii, I badly need more Anthony Lockwood x reader on this app so could you do one where reader joins the agency and there are immediate sparks between her and lockwood (he's always flirting with her, he always does small things for her and he always protects her first in a mission) and one day he gets really injured trying to save her during their missions and at home she's really worried when patching him up and they end up confessing to eachother after they have a mini argument. Then they kiss and make up or makeout 😘
god yeah anon, i get what you mean, the reason im writing is literally bc i need more fanfic 😭 i have read every fucking lockwood x reader on here and ao3
if ya'll want anything written just ask :D
- lots of love, mars
everything - anthony lockwood x reader
warnings: violence, ooc, kissing, cursing
You weren’t exactly sure when it had started, this weird tension between you and Anthony Lockwood. It was an odd thing that the both of you left unspoken about, despite the numerous jokes, comments and questions from Lucy and George.
Maybe it had been when you’d first joined the agency. When he’d opened the door to see who was knocking and gone completely slack jawed at the sight of you, before collecting himself and adorning his prize-winning smirk.
“Well hello love, how may we help you?” he’d said, casually resting against the doorframe.
“Are you Lockwood of Lockwood and Co?” your cheeks had reddened from the cold and nothing else. Most definitely not because of the casual pet name he’d thrown in.
“That would indeed be me.” he nodded, easy smirk still resting on his lips. “I assume you’re here for an interview then, come on in and we’ll get you sorted.”
After you’d passed the interview with flying colours, he’d told you how much he looked forward to working with you with a wink and a charming toothy grin. Even now, your heart rate went up a considerable amount every time you saw that fucking smile.
Maybe it had been your first case, when you and Lockwood had had to hide from a very persistent Type Two and you’d dragged Lockwood into the nearest open room and shoved him into the wall. You’d pinned him there with one hand on his arm, pressing it to the wall, and the other over his mouth. Afterwards he’d tried to charm his way out of your teasing his red face.
You didn’t know when it’d started but far out, you knew that it was there and that if nothing happened soon you might just kiss him the next time he speaks.
~~~
“George, Luce, angel, we’ve got a new case.” Lockwood called from the hall, placing the phone down and smiling widely. (Damn that smile, it made your heart weak and your brain fuzzy) “We’re going as soon as possible so it’s best we get ready as fast as we can.”
And that was that. You all packed the necessities, like you always did. You all loaded into a taxi and waited patiently until you were at the clients house, like you always did. Lockwood checked with you to see if you had everything you needed, like he always did.
“George!” Lucy called from her place halfway up the stairs. “Come with me, we need to check out the drawing room you read about.” You almost missed the wink she directed your way.
Great, now you and Lockwood were alone. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Shall we?” he offered his hand and pulled you towards some of the creepier looking closed doors, not-so-discreetly pulling you behind him. Slowly he opens the furthest door, nothing happens. You open the second door, and suddenly you’re thrown against the wall.
“Y/N!” Lockwood cried, pulling his rapier out and swinging it at the ghost that’d materialised. For a bit he succeeded in pushing it back, allowing you time to reorient yourself, before he too was thrown away from the ghost, his rapier landing near his head. You groaned and hauled yourself up, grabbing your own rapier and stabbing at the ghost. It disappeared, then reappeared behind you, causing you to swing around wildly, accidentally putting yourself in the ghosts close vicinity. You felt your limbs start to lock up as you held eye contact with your doom, hoping and praying that Lucy and George had found the source and were covering it with the silver net. The ghost moved closer and closer to you, and you silently mourned all the things you never got to say.
And then, just as you’d accepted your fate, Anthony fucking Lockwood pushed you out of the way. You didn’t have time to dwell on that though, the both of you rolling in opposite directions so as to avoid the ghost swiping at you, before disappearing. You sat up and looked at Lockwood, catching his eye and sending a wobbly smile his way.
“You okay?” he asked, voice a bit strained. You nodded and asked him the same question.
“Yeah…I’m good.” he said, lying through his teeth.
“The fuck you are.” You forced your sore body to stand up so you could walk towards him and check him for injuries.
“Y/N! Lockwood!” Lucy ran towards you, halting your endeavour. “Are you two okay?”
~~~
The taxi drive home was awkward and tense. You fought a raging battle against the urge to call him out for being injured, to ask him what was wrong.
When you got home you dragged Anthony into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair.
“Tell me where the fuck you’re hurt right now or I swear I will find out what your worst fear is and make it real.” Lockwood chuckled.
“Love, I’m fine, really.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lockwood.”
Then silence and a slight guilt and still, somehow, that damned fucking tension. So you, do what any normal person would do and pull his jacket off, immediately spotting where he was injured due to the blood staining his white shirt. More silence and more guilt, that stays in the air while you wrap his cut.
“I’m sorry-” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.
“If you were sorry you’d stop throwing yourself at danger at every given opportunity. You’re so fucking reckless, all the damn time!” You didn’t mean to start berating him but now you couldn’t stop, because he did need to hear this. “Do you know how much you worry us? Do you think George and Lucy and I like seeing you get injured? Goddamn it we care so much about you. Why do you pull these stunts?”
You only now realise how close your faces are. You could feel his breath on you face.
“I don’t think you realise how deeply I care for you.” he whispered, voice husky and low. “You are...everything. I can't breathe when you're not around me and I can't think when you're near me. I would set the entire world aflame if you asked me to. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I love you so much it hurts my heart and my head and my entire being."
You didn't know what to say to respond to that. You were a mess. God maybe-
Fuck it.
His lips were soft against yours. His hair between your fingers, softer. His hands on the sides of your face, gentle. You were kissing him and he was kissing you and you were losing your mind.
"Darling, you drive me insane." he whispered against your lips, matching smiles painting both of your faces.
"I love you too, idiot."
"Of course you do."
#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood#lockwood and co#lucy carlyle#george karim#mars's fanfiction stuffs ✨
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Hello! I have a question that may be a tad uncomfortable but I don't know who could answer honestly. How do you get over class with a professor who self identifies as your mentor/father? He spilled his guts to me after class and told me how happy he was he connected to a young girl like me(Im 19 he's 59). He will be my prof for the ENTIRE year. I don't know how to feel, it wasn't flirty at all, and I actually think he sees himself in me. He's odd and off putting and stand offish. I am too, kinda. He said if shouldn't feel lonely because Im different, because I have my family, and now him (also Implied i should find god).
He's a conservative catholic with a wife and kids, I can tell he doesn't mean it in a weird way. He probably means well. But it's odd that he's acting like a mentor when I've only known him for a month.
Now, I thought this chat wouldn't affect me but he psychoanalysed me and it felt like he saw right through me while treating me like his therapist. I also think he's a lonely man who is projecting, seeing my potential and "what could've been" for himself.
How do I cope? I don't want this to affect me, but it pushed me terribly off axis. I felt pigeonholed, more than anything, and also feel bad for him.
WELP. Okay, first of all, I want to reinforce that this is NOT your fault and that it clearly creeped you out to the point where you decided to ask someone for help, all of which means that the situation is not okay and he does NOT have the right to do any of this -- whether forcing emotional intimacy on you after a very short time, suggesting that you Find Jesus and/or convert, hinting that he wants to "mentor" you, or whatever. Just because he's a conservative Catholic is no guarantee that it won't get creepier (indeed, often the total opposite) and even if it wasn't sexual or didn't feel sexual at the moment, that is... wrong. He should not have done it. He does not have the right to decide He Is Now Your Mentor and to push that connection on you. Even if it was not conscious or intentional grooming behavior, it is... squicky to say the least, showed that he was willing to push boundaries with you right away, and is certainly something that should make you cautious of any more uncontrolled or one-on-one interaction with him. So yeah. Gross. "Now you have me so you won't be lonely"??? Sorry, there is no scenario in which I can imagine that being an okay thing for a professor to say to a student. No. It may be that he just doesn't have a good sense of social boundaries or appropriate behavior, but that also doesn't mean you need to excuse it.
Next, if you can switch to another section or class so you don't have to spend the year with him, that might be worth looking into. If you can't, then obviously minimize the time you spend one-on-one (if there are office hours or if you need help with the class, maybe ask your peers or the TA if there is one, rather than him) and remember that you can tell people at your university if it continues to creep you out, not just me. There are procedures in place at most institutions to document this kind of interaction if it continues to cross a line (I don't know where you are in the world, but in the university where I work in the US, there's an office of Title IX, which deals with these kinds of issues). Older male academics smarming up to young female students and telling them they're "special" happens a lot, unfortunately, and while it doesn't always end terribly, it is something that you deservedly flagged as weird and which you should keep an eye on going forward. I'm sorry that you've experienced this and once again offer my support in navigating this year in as un-icky a way as possible. Please remember that you do not have to apologize for or excuse yourself for making choices to get out of a weird situation that clearly threw you for a loop, and you do not have to put up with this behavior if it continues or gets worse. Good luck.
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STWG daily prompt 23/9/23
prompt: summer camp
pairing/character(s): steddie, robin, dustin, will, lucas
CW: robin calls steve a whore but like. in her mind. and then a slut to his (and eddie's) face. but affectionately. they're besties.
-
"Robin, Robin!"
Robin's alone time is very rudely interrupted by a small group of pre-teens running over to her. Being a camp counsellor this summer has been fun, but she very much values her alone time by the lake. What can she say, she enjoys staring at the water and occasionally aggressively throwing pebbles into it.
So she may glare a little as she turns to look at the little terrors.
"What." She says more than asks.
Dustin, Will and Lucas are the boys standing before her, and the only one of them that doesn't wilt under her slight glare is Dustin. In fact, he lifts his head in retaliation and meets her gaze.
"We can't find Steve." He explains, and it's then that Robin notes the worry in the boys' eyes. She sighs, and fully turns away from the lake to focus on them.
"What do you mean you can't find Steve?"
"He said that he was gonna go get a change of clothes-" Lucas starts.
"And we were just gonna wait for him by the treetop course, but we wanted to get changed too-" Dustin continues.
"So we went back to the cabin and he's not there!" Will finishes.
God, this particular group has to be the weirdest group of pre-teens she's ever met. At least the rest of their 'party' aren't here, or the finishing-each-others'-thoughts thing would be a lot creepier.
"Okay, so," She starts, and gets up to start walking toward the cabins, the boys following her, "have you actually looked anywhere else before coming to me, or..?"
They stay silent at her words, and she sighs. The lack of an answer tells her everything she needs to know.
"You know he could have gone to the bathrooms? The cafeteria? One of the other cabins-"
She tops in her tracks as she cuts herself off. He wouldn't. That whore.
Before her precious lake-time, she was on an activity with some other counsellors, including none other than Eddie Munson. AKA Steve's summer camp fling. Who coincidentally also went to get a change of clothes a few minutes before Robin told Chrissy she needed a break and escaped to the lake. She bets he's also missing in action right now.
"Why don't you guys go back to the treetop course? I think I know where he is." She suggests to the kids, who immediately start protesting.
"What if he's hurt?"
"What if he needs help?"
"What if he got lost?"
She rolls her eyes at their worry. It's kind of cute, but so unnecessary. She knows exactly where Steve is (and Eddie, too).
"Don't worry. I know where he is." She says, and when that's not enough, continues, "Besides, if you run around with me you might miss the chance to go on the treetop course."
The kids run off in one direction, and she marches in the other toward the cabins.
Frankly, Steve's lucky the kids didn't think to check any of the other cabins. Especially Eddie's.
When she gets to cabin 5, she steels herself before going in. If they're doing anything nefarious, she's actually going to murder Steve. No. She'll murder Eddie for corrupting Steve. Steve never would have done something like this last summer.
"You better be decent!" She calls out as she loudly opens the door to the main room where the kids sleep. She starts toward the cabin leader's room with equally loud steps.
She just wants to give them as much time as possible to not be in a compromising position because... She does not want to see that.
"Heyyy, Robbie." Steve greets guiltily as she slowly opens the door to Eddie's room.
They're sat together on Eddie's single bed, cheeks flushed and polo shirts looking very rumpled. Eddie doesn't look guilty at all, with the wide and pleased grin on his face.
"Can't believe my alone time got cut short for this. Were you sluts planning on going back to your activities any time soon or were you just waiting for one of the kids to walk in on you?" She asks, one eyebrow raised.
Steve continues to look guilty, and Eddie snickers under his breath. How dare he.
"I'm serious! At least go into the woods behind the cabins!" She exclaims, and then shakes her head at them, "amateurs. Me and Chrissy would never."
#steddie#stobin#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#stwgdailyprompt#poor robin#she's tired of their bullshit#mywriting#dailydrabble
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Sapphires: Chapter 1
A fanfic/AU/whatever you want to call it I'm going to explore with Orca's statue! I've never really done writing like this before, so we'll see how this goes. Might try out websites like AO3 to host this on??? But I'm sticking to what I know right now. Anyways!! Here's what I've got so far.
"She was so young..."
The heavy stone doors of the Royal Hatchery scraped open. The grating noise was by design, ensuring intruders could not sneak in.
Dim blue light traced the silhouettes of two dragons at the entrance.
"I don't know why she didn't wait a couple more years." One of the dragons conveyed through
flashes and gestures, paddling forward.
"Mm." The other lazily flickered back, straining to shut the doors behind them and sealing the
room into inky darkness.
One by one, the dragons lit their bioluminescent patterns. The electric teal glow discovered dips
in the floor where clusters of eggs awaited, comfortably tucked into tidy seaweed nests. The
shells appeared as a muddied grayish-blue, but under proper lighting, they would have glimmered like droplets of brilliant amber. They were arranged by sex—males on one side of the
room, females on the other—in spiral shapes.
"Looks like they're all here." The tired SeaWing gestured, turning to leave.
"Looks like you're begging to get your teeth smashed out." The other gestured back, peeking at
each nest and counting the eggs. That was meant to be a joke, but they both knew it was hardly
far from reality. The queen was fiercely protective of her eggs. The tired SeaWing grumbled but
wearily set to work.
There was a lapse of silence. The chatty SeaWing gave small talk another shot: "... That statue
is a lot creepier now, huh." His voice was a little stiff.
The tired SeaWing did not answer.
The coral heating tubes that twisted along the walls quietly bubbled.
Hesitant at first, the chatty SeaWing drifted towards the sculpture at the center of the hatchery.
He wasn't sure why.
It had been installed less than a week ago. She had insisted it be placed here.
He brought the light from the banded patterns on his arm up to the statue, squinting at its
features. It was regal; imposingly majestic. Masterfully chiseled from empress marble;
frighteningly realistic. He angled the light further up, revealing an astute face. Various undersea
plants intricately weaved around its curving horns—the webbing that flowed down its spine and
wing membrane also followed this design.
And the eyes.
They looked just like her eyes.
He rarely saw her eyes. Partially because none of the royals really bothered with him. But her
eyes were always elsewhere. Always focused on her next masterpiece or her mother (though, in
hindsight, she had probably been focusing more on the throne her mother sat on); however, the
few times her eyes parted, he found himself both intrigued and perturbed by them. They were a
divine blue. An enchanting blue that compelled you to unlock their secrets, but a haunting blue
that would curse you if you ever found the key. A distant blue, but a blue that lingered with you
forever.
Her fathomless ocean filled those sapphire eyes.
"Done checking?" The tired SeaWing flashed, startling the chatty SeaWing. "Almost." He forced
himself to quickly regain his composure, though his even face betrayed how unnerved he was
all of the sudden. Before resuming his duties, he felt drawn to give the statue one more glance.
His eyes fell to the glittering pedestal it perched on. To the name engraved upon it.
Orca.
Couple of headcanons I worked into this (in case you were confused):
• SeaWings eggs look a little more like fish eggs (round and orange). Since deep water filters colors like red, they appear more blue here.
• SeaWings use sign language along with their bioluminescent scales to communicate.
#sapphires au#i have no idea if this is good or not#i've had this idea in my head for a while now and i just wanted to get it out there already#the au will become more clear in the next chapter 👀#wings of fire#my art#wof#orca wof#seawings#wof orca#orcas statue#seawing#seawing wof#writing#my writing#fanfic#au#wof au#wings of fire au#wof fanfic#wings of fire fanfic#wof seawing#seawings wof#orca statue#art#illustration#digital illustration#digital art#wof art#dragons
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So this is a “little” analysis of one of Loki’s big changes this season (there are a lot but I’m focusing on one)
2012 Loki was told he lacked conviction and all told that’s correct. He was wishy-washy, he changed sides. Sometimes he didn’t even seem to know where he was headed. Our TVA Loki was just the same- slacking off at the TVA, ditching the TVA for Sylvie, getting drunk on Lamentis, the whole fighting Alioth thing..? Wanting to spare He Who Remains. That man didn’t know what he was doing. “It varies from moment to moment.”
Loki now? This Loki is full of conviction and is very goal oriented. His first goal was to find Mobius and as soon as he succeeded he was ready to do whatever it took to stop He Who Remains and Mobius had to talk him into the detour of fixing his time slipping. After that his next goal was Sylvie- which I believe is related to his end goal to stop He Who Remains and save the TVA- he saw her in the future in the TVA and was hoping she knew more about what was happening.
And once that became his goal he didn’t hesitate- refused to get a drink, and stayed in total control, only stopping to comfort Mobius. And once they found Sylvie and that she didn’t know anything? Well after she left Loki gave up on her and focused on his goal of stopping the TVA from being destroyed and he stuck to that, went right back to Mobius. And onto his next goal of finding Miss Minutes.
He was all business at the Fair, more so than even Mobius. He wanted no distractions only getting momentarily startled by the Diorama and then he went right back to it. Look at how absolutely terrified he was when he first saw Victor. And the end when they found Victor and brought him back? He didn’t even hesitate with Sylvie until she spoke to them and then went right on through the time door without waiting for Mobius.
This is not a Loki who lacks conviction and changes sides. This is him drawing a line in the sand and picking his side. This is Loki becoming the character with the most conviction in the entire show? Mobius? His world was shattered, and he’s running with things as best he can but he’s cracking. Sylvie? She accomplished her goal and now seems a bit lost, she wants to be done with everything but keeps getting drawn in. Ravonna? Oh she has a goal but as we see it’s more nebulous. Rather like 2012 Loki. Miss Minutes? Same as Ravonna but creepier. B-15? She’s trying but she’s got a lot on her plate and is playing a balancing act.
Loki is absolutely focused and determined in a way we haven’t really seen before. I think there are a few reasons behind this:
1. TVA has become a home with people he cares about and who treat him as a person and not a God or a Prince or a monster
2. He is terrified of destroying the multiverse. He’s trying to change and doesn’t want to cause destruction anymore. He definitely holds himself partially responsible for what happened with He Who Remains and absolutely does not want to be responsible for the end of everything
This is a Loki who is not looking for a throne or power but might well end up in charge of the TVA
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“And I am afraid, afraid, afraid!—I am afraid of all things—even to think but I must go on my way.”
That’s one of my favorite Van Helsing lines. He may be leading the hunt, but he’s terrified. Terrified of what’s happening to Mina, that she might not be saved in time… he barely knows what the changes in her mean. They’re vampiric symptoms of her turning … but how turned is she? Is it already too late? He can’t talk to Morris or Seward or the other guys, so he can’t coordinate plans, he just has to cross his fingers and HOPE. He and Mina are out in the middle of nowhere, where nobody dares venture. Heading closer and closer towards the lair of the beast.
He’s not technically alone because Mina’s there … or is she? The hypnosis is failing, she’s not taking her usual notes, she’s sleeping during the day in a deep unwakeable sleep … she said she ate before he came back … but did she? Is she telling the truth? Or if she’s not, is it because she doesn’t want him to worry as much? Like, “No, I already ate, so I’m fine, don’t worry.” Or is the lying something creepier? Does she have the correct sense of where to go because she’s going off memory of Jonathan’s journal and is a good detective? Or is it another sense?
That uncertainty is back. And while Van Helsing isn’t technically alone, he certainly feels that way. He’s scared. He doesn’t know what to expect. Mina was doing much better after Dracula pulled back his mental ties … but it seems like she’s getting worse again. And faster.
“I tell her to sleep while I watch. But presently I forget all of watching; and when I suddenly remember that I watch, I find her lying quiet, but awake, and looking at me with so bright eyes.”
See, THAT is unnerving, and a lot of it is based in uncertainty. Is that a sign of more vampirism coming forth? Is she being compelled by Dracula to wait for him to fall asleep? Or is she just that awake because she slept all day and is just watching him? Imagine her looking at him like that, in the dark (no electric lights at all), firelight alone on her.
Van Helsing’s not a young guy and he’s been pretty taxed these last few months. It’s no wonder he keeps spacing out, and none of the other guys are there to back him up. Again, he’s alone. And Mina … who knows? He’s going to exhaust himself by forcing himself to keep all cylinders firing. But can he afford to relax at all?
And he’s not just afraid for himself? He’s afraid for Mina. And if she can still be saved (hopefully), he feels in charge of her safety.
Can you imagine this stress? It wouldn’t surprise me if he were going grey/white too, and it’s overlooked more because of his age.
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okay so I got like 3 question for ya
is wally pretty much a warlock (home) ? but he just look like a wizard?
is the reason frank joins the group is that of Eddie ?
What is wally deal with following Barnaby (did wally just want to join a group but didn't know how?)
Sweetness!
Wally's is a...complicated case. As you'll see! I'd say he shares characteristics of both, internally more of a warlock but appearance-wise he looks more wizard-esc and friendly!
Frank was a lone traveler who got tired of being alone! He would have stayed that way too, if he wasn't intent on paying back a favor to Barnaby.
THAT will be my next comic, I think! It'll also introduce Howdy, who doesn't join their group until later but had a bit to do with how Wally found Barnaby BUT -
THIS ^ is the worst way Barnaby could have described how they met. It's a lot worse/creepier than that lmao Barnaby just doesn't want anyone to look at Wals weirdly
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Helloo! Can you please write four lords falling for reader who is very shy/timid? Hope you have a great day/night! 💞
Sure thing!💖💖 I hope these are good
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The Lords Falling for a Shy and Timid Reader
Alcina Dimitrescu
-She would find your shyness adorable. The way you can’t even lift your head up to look her in the eye, with your hair falling over your face, is something that she finds endearing.
-In all honesty, Alcina likes the power she holds over you.
-She learns that it’s probably the only time where she feels true happiness and comfort. You were something so innocent in this messed up life. Alcina couldn’t stop herself from wanting more with you.
-Her daughters like to mess with your shyness, making you get all flustered and panicky. She puts them in their place immediately, where then they start to treat you more like a member of the family.
-Alcina protects you from the other lords, especially Heisenberg. She isn’t afraid to kill him if he starts to mess with you.
-However, she likes to tease you somewhat, and her daughters can find you being carried around in her arms like a baby. You are mute and all red in the face because of the action.
-She also understands your timidness and tries to keep her commanding mistress tone down as well as her vampiristically derived nature.
-Alcina can’t help but feel proud whenever you get the confidence to speak to her. Or try to, at least.
-It’s at that point when she tries to encourage you and boost your own confidence. After all, she has the patience to wait for you, and wants you to feel comfortable around her.
-Understands you like to be around the cool air, so sets up a place for you to sit out in the courtyard. After making sure her maids turned into vampire creatures are cleared out.
Donna Beneviento (and Angie)
-Donna is also quite shy and timid, so she almost falls for you right away. She looks at you and sees someone she can relate to. In fact, this is probably the most excited Donna has ever been.
-Her eagerness to get to know you makes you even more shy, even if Donna is using more action instead of words. Such as making you a lot of tea, sitting extremely close to you, or making you little gifts.
-It’s at this point when Donna realizes she’s getting a crush on you.
-Now, she seeks to make you as comfortable as possible in her little estate. Let’s start with all those creepy dolls.
-Donna’s attempt to make them less creepy for you due to your timid nature only makes them creepier. In turn, Donna feels bad seeing how scared you are and gives you a hug as an apology.
-Turns out, hugs are the one thing your shy self is capable of because you guys don’t have to look at each other and therefore making things awkward and such.
-While Donna is quieter in her actions, Angie is extremely eccentric. It gets to the point where you are so overwhelmed that Donna does something she’s never done before.
-She locks Angie away in a closet so you can get some breathing space.
-Donna also attempts to use her needle skills to make you a quilt because she’s noticed that you are a lot calmer under a thick blanket. It seems to make you more relaxed. However, giving you the gift made both of you shy.
-Also, catch her trying to shyly grab your hand or do other little cute gestures only for both of you to get so flustered that you need space to cool off.
-The garden is a big hang out spot because the flowers make both of you feel relaxed. Although Donna tries to keep her powers from affecting you because she doesn’t need you to go through any trauma.
Salvatore Moreau
-Poor Moreau only ever really wanted a friend. He’s well aware on how the others view him, and that he really is a freak of nature. So, he tries so so hard to keep you from being scared of him.
-Truth be, you were a little freaked out in the beginning.
-However, you both were awkward as he was trying to apologize for himself, and you were trying to explain that you were just a shy individual. It was at that moment that you both learned that silence is key.
-But Moreau is a hopeless romantic, and falls for you as soon as you agree to be his friend.
-It’s then that he gets all excited and starts to introduce you to all the things he likes (which isn’t a long list). However, one thing you guys have in common is movies.
-Moreau really goes out of his way to find shows that you would like because he loves to see you smile and laugh. With you being so shy and timid, it’s hard to catch every now and again.
-Once he accidentally grabbed your hand during a movie and it’s been awkward ever since.
-However, he couldn’t help but feel happy that he was able to feel your smooth skin against his own, and even happier that you still stuck around after that encounter.
-Tries to defend you from the other lords, but in the end it’s him that ends up getting teased instead of you. However, for Moreau, you not being the target is a win in his book.
-Doesn’t want you to get freaked out by his fish form, so goes above and beyond to control it and keep you comofrtable.
Karl Heisenberg
-Okay, so we all know that Karl would have tremendous amounts of fun playing with your shyness. All the teasing you could imagine would come from him, but he’s not mean about it.
-Well, not all the time, and he really tries not to be.
-Karl is really just surprised that you wanted to stick around and wanted to see how much you could take. Turns out despite all the red on your face, your flustered state, and shy mumblings, you wanted to stay by him.
-That’s really what made Karl start to fall for you, and he hated it.
-He tried to push those feelings away, but each time you stuttered while talking to him or gave him that shy smile, he found himself falling deeper into cupid’s pit. Soon, he just stopped denying it.
-Karl still teased you, but he also became extrememly protective of you. This was from everything as well. His soldats, the lycans, the other lords, Miranda, you name it and he would kill it for you.
-He also tried to watch his temper around you, knowing how timid you were. You never got into fights with him, but sometimes things just made him blow up. However, he really didn’t want to frighten you.
-Since he’s the bold one, you can catch him flirting and trying to hold your hand and stuff. It gets you all flustered which just makes him smirk.
-Catch him also trying to make you cute little sculptures out of metal because Karl can’t stop himself from wanting to see you smile. You can bet that he would be all nervous to give it to you as well.
-He also loves that you are a good listener, and don’t get riled up as easily as him. It makes him explaining things a lot more beneficial and easy.
-Boops your nose a lot to see you turn red. It makes him laugh.
#resident evil village#resident evil imagines#resident evil headcanons#resident evil village imagines#resident evil village headcanons#alcina dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu imagine#alcina dimitriscu x reader#alcina dimitrescu headcanons#donna beneviento#donna beneviento x reader#donna beneviento headcanons#donna beneviento imagine#salvatore moreau#salvatore moreau imagine#salvatore moreau x reader#salvatore moreau headcanons#karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg x reader#karl heisenberg imagine#karl heisenberg headcanons
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