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writting-stuff-sometimes · 4 months

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We should be best friends too Lando X Fem reader

Summary: Y/n is Pietra's best friend, she considers Max to be a nice guy, but who she really can't stand is Max's best friend, Lando. At Max's birthday party, Pietra asks just one thing, an easy, fun night, but with Y/N and Lando in the same room, this is almost impossible.

Warnings: Bad words and alcohol.

Word Count: 15K Notes: I suck at second parts, so I'm taking my time with the pt2 of "Playing with fire". In the meantime, here's something new. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for all your comments,

__________________________

"He's coming, isn't he?"

"Y/n, it's Max's best friend, please, please, please, no fights tonight"

"He's the one that always started them!"

"And you were amazing at going along instead of being the grownup and letting it go"

"Excuse me, who's your best friend?!"

"You, but please, just tonight, can you be extra patient with Lando?"

"I'll try"

Pietra had been dating Max for a year now, and it took four months for you to hate Lando. Almost every night you were together ended with a fight between you two. _____________________________

"Hey Mate, happy birthday!" You didn't need to turn to look at the door to recognize the voice owner. You sighed in annoyance.

"Friend of yours, I assume?" the guy standing in front of you, and whom you had been flirting with for the last hour, said with a sarcastic smile.

"Best friend" you rolled your eyes.

To keep your promise to Pietra you tried to stay away from Lando as much as possible and focus on the cute guy in front of you.

____________________________

"Let me get you a refill" Your date took the glass from your hand.

"Thanks"

"My pleasure" he winked at you and then leaned in to place a soft, quick peck on your lips. So far, the night seemed to be going better than expected, no interactions with Lando, and sex with a cute guy was coming your way.

"Isn't he a gentleman?!" His mocking voice was even more annoying.

You took a deep breath before turning around to face Lando.

"Fuck you"

"What's with the cursing? I was just making a statement, you seem to have great taste in men"

"Wish I could say the same about your date" You threw a quick glance toward the blond girl who had been all over Lando for the last 45 minutes, she had done nothing to you but you already disliked her and the childlike way she was giggling with her friends, probably talking about him.

"Ouch"

"Just move and stay away from..." you tried to walk past him but your stupid heel got caught on the carpet. Everything happened so fast. The Brit caught you mid-air, his arms around your waist as your hands fell on his torso, his black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, so your hand was against his skin.

"You ok?" You could have sworn you heard concern in his voice.

The tight grip on your waist and the feeling of his warm skin under your hand seemed to be a little too much for your alcohol-intoxicated brain to voice out a response, so you just nodded.

"If you wanted to cup a feel you could've just asked, you know you have a free pass"

And there he was again, the annoying self-centered prick.

"Please, don't flatter yourself, I would choose planking face first on the floor over this, any day." You pushed him hard, trying to shake away the feeling of his touch.

“And hurt that gorgeous face of yours?” His finger softly traced your cheek, down to your chin, but you pulled away “I would never let that happen. Also, I’ve been told my arms are nice and cozy.” He crossed his arms over his chest, making them seem even bigger.

“Too bad they are attached to a huge self-centered piece of shit like you!”

"Wow" Max's voice startled you. You had said that last phrase as the music changed from one song to another, so every person in the room had heard you, including the cute guy, who was now standing a couple steps away, staring at you.

"Y/n" the disappointed look on your best friend's face broke your heart a little.

"I'm sorry, P." You walked past Lando, took your bag, and left the flat.

A couple tears streamed down your face, falling on your cell screen as you searched for an Uber to take you home.

"Fuck!" you mouthed when the No cars Available text appeared on your screen. You closed the app and opened it again, wishing for a miracle. It was almost 2 am on a Tuesday, and getting an Uber in the middle of the suburbs was a nightmare, you walked to the end of the street, praying that from there, it would be easier to get a car, but again, nothing.

You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, trying to ease the tears, but the frustration and embarrassment were too strong.

A couple minutes later a car stopped right in front of you, from the engine sound it was a sports car, and you knew exactly who it belonged to. The driver's door opened, and you heard him walk towards you.

"Y/n" his voice was low.

"Go away" You didn't turn to look at him, your eyes were probably bloodshot from the tears, and you've had enough humiliation for one night. You opened the Uber app again to keep your sight down.

"Y/n, I'll take you home, come on" He walked to the passenger door and opened it.

"I'd rather crawl there" You answered bluntly.

Like a cruel joke, a sudden gust of wind blew against your body, and goosebumps covered your skin, it was unusually cold for July. As you walked to the threshold of the building, searching for some shelter, the bottoms of your feet reminded you of the heels you were wearing, if you dared to walk back home you might have to do it barefoot.

"Unless you're planning on going back inside, or a car has magically appear on the app..."

"How could I walk back inside there?" You cut him off "I just made a complete fool of myself because of you!" You finally turned to see him as a couple of tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. He looked down at the floor, he seemed embarrassed.

"Then please get in the car, I'll take you home...you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to" He offered you his hand.

You stared at him, he seemed honest and embarrassed. You hated yourself, the puppy eyes were actually working?

"Please, P and Max would kill me if I let you go home alone."

You sighed loudly and walked towards the car. You ignored his stretched-out hand, trying to make a statement, that you were doing it against your will.

As you got inside the car his scent hit you hard, you always claimed he used way too much cologne, but now it seemed nice, warm, almost pleasant, maybe finally being out of the cold was playing tricks on your mind.

The sound of his door shutting pulled you back from your thoughts.

When the car didn't move, you turned to look at him to find him staring back at you.

"What?" you asked in a low voice.

"The seatbelt" he answered as if it was obvious.

"Oh" you turned to pull on it as he started the car and drove away.

It was a quiet drive. From time to time, you discretely turned to look at Lando, whom you always thought was one of those annoying guys with sports cars that would find every little chance to show off, but he seemed to be a decent driver.

Your phone vibrated in your bag.

Pietra💗: Are you ok?

Y/n: Yes, I'm on my way home, I'm so sorry P 😔

Pietra 💗: Don't worry about it, Lando picked you up? He said he was going out to look for you.

Y/n: Yes 😒

Pietra 💗: Good, let me know when you get home, please don't kill him, he's truly embarrassed about how he behaved.

Y/n: Can't promise anything

"Pietra?"

"Yes" You answered without taking your eyes off the phone screen.

"Good to know I have witnesses in case I go missing" He looked at you with a mischievous grin as if you were great friends and this was an inside joke.

You turned to look at him, your face anything but friendly. Why was he acting like you were there because you were friends and not because he had been an asshole?

"Oook" He said in a low whisper and kept his attention on the road.

A few minutes later you heard a breathy laugh from the driver.

"What now?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"You look like a chihuahua"

"Excuse me?"

"You're trembling so much. Maybe you should have worn something more clothy" He stared down at your outfit, black shorts, a lacey bralette, and a matching black blazer.

"I was supposed to spend the night inside a flat"

"But you decided to throw a tantrum like a five-year-old and run out"

"It was all your fault! If you had stayed away from me, right now I would've been with..." You cut yourself off.

"With Mr. Charming?" He turned to look at you. "You just met him tonight." His tone was filled with judgment.

"Why do you care?" You turned to look at him with a raised brow. For some reason, the question threw him off balance, it was nice to be on the other end of the jokes and the messing around.

"Do you want me to care?" He turned to look at you when he stopped at a red light, your winning punch was short-lived.

"Pff, please." You were about to turn away when a sudden movement caught your attention. He turned his body towards you and his hand went behind your headrest. He stared at you deeply, and you stared back. What was he doing? He slowly moved towards you, and your breath quickened as you felt your body get warmer, why was he getting closer? Your mind screamed to move away, but your body didn't move an inch.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he was just inches away from your face.

"Here, put this on before you freeze" he whispered lowly, pulling a hoodie from behind your seat, his breath warmly caressing your blushing face. You stared at him confused.

"What?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.

"Fuck you"

"If only I had a swear jar." He placed the hoodie on your lap and put the car in movement when the light changed to green.

You contemplated throwing the hoodie back to him, but the cold was teeth chattering, so you got it on. The smell of his cologne intensified, and it felt... it felt nice. You hated how much you seemed to like it. Maybe he had changed colognes, usually, you would find it repulsive.

He turned on the radio, that stupid grin still on his face.

You were getting close to your house, a weird feeling in your chest. Was it sadness? Why would you feel sad about getting home?

Suddenly, the car turned towards a Starbucks drive-thru.

"What are you doing?"

"You're still trembling and I'm out of hoodies, maybe coffee will help you get warm"

He got to the speaker and ordered your favorite drink and a hot chocolate for him.

“How did you know?”

“That coffee gets you warm? It’s basic knowledge, I know you think I’m stupid, but I know things, you know?”

“How do you know my coffee order?”

“Oh, umm the weekend you and Pietra stayed at my house in Mónaco I ordered coffee and P told me what you liked”

“It’s been ages since that happened"

“Yeah..." A weird look on his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. He turned to look away as he approached the window to receive the order.

"Here"

You took the warm cup off his hand. Who was this person?

You held the cup close to your body, giving in to the heat.

"Thanks" You smiled back at him.

"No problem" He drove off as you took a sip from the warm, delicious liquid.

"Is it working?"

"It is, it's nice... why are you doing this?"

"I don't want you to get sick"

"Why?"

"Because being sick sucks?"

"Why are you being nice?" You insisted

"I don't get the question"

"You've never been this nice to me. You're usually picking on me and... being annoying"

"I'm not"

"Yes, you are. You're always calling me names, saying I'm spoiled, uptight, a control freak, you also mock the guys I go out with, the music I listen to, the movies I like..."

"Weeeellll, you started with the name calling"

"Me?!"

"Uuh, yes"

“When?!”

“P’s birthday party last year”

“We had only known each other for like a month back then. What could I've done to you? I didn’t even talk to you that day."

“Well, it wasn’t TO me, but it was about me.”

You stared at him confused, and he continued.

“A friend of yours asked if you liked F1 and you said hell naw, they’re just a bunch of nepo babies that only know how to spin a wheel” He tried to mimic your voice. You were about to protest but he was right.

“In my defense, that was a private conversation... and the world does not revolve around you, I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about all the drivers"

“We’ll you were at a public party, and that statement doesn't really help your case"

You stared down at the coffee cup between your hands. This was embarrassing. Was all this feud with him your fault? You could have sworn he had started it, damn! You were a hundred percent sure it was his fault.

“Why do you hate us drivers so much?”

“It’s not you, it’s the sport… my ex was a big fan, and it ended up bad with him so..."

"...the breakup wasn't my fault" you quickly added.

"I didn't think it was" He tried to cover a mocking smile with his chocolate cup.

"Yeah, right" You rolled your eyes as a faint smile sneaked from your lips.

"Well, too bad an idiot made you hate us all"

It was seriously embarrassing, you could've sworn you were over the stupid breakup with Evan, but he seemed to still find ways to ruin your life even in an indirect way.

"I ...I'm sorry"

"That's new" He joked

"Don't make me regret saying that"

"Sorry" His big smile was kind of cute.

"But really, I'm sorry I was mean, I should not have projected my breakup on you"

"Well..." He parked in front of your building and turned off the engine. "I'm sorry I was childish and tried to get you to like me by bullying you, I swear I'm out of my 6-year-old phase"

"You wanted me to like you?"

"Yeah, you're my best mate's girlfriend's best friend, so if we're going to see each other so much, we should be best friends too. Also, you're actually nice, you don't have bad taste in music..."

"And I have a gorgeous face... your words, not mine"

The curly hair bounced as he laughed at your comment, and you could swear you saw him blushing.

"And you have a really, REALLY gorgeous face"

"Thanks" You framed your face with your hands in an exaggerated flirty way. "Sooo, drinking and driving is against the law even if it's nonalcoholic, and your house is far enough for your chocolate to get cold by the time you get there, as a peace offering, do you want to come up and finish our drinks in a warmer place?

"That would be nice" He smiled taking off his seatbelt fast, as if he was already waiting for the invitation.

He opened the car door for you and walked behind you, shielding your body from the cold British air. You had been so focused on hating him that you didn`t realize how polite and funny he was. It was like meeting a completely new person.

The elevator dinged, letting you know you had arrived at your floor. As you were about to walk out Lando grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in, making you clash against his chest, almost dropping your drink. He stared into your eyes, searching for any sign that you were uncomfortable. He must've seen the fire in his eyes reflected on yours, so he leaned in to kiss your lips, and you kissed him back.

The arm that held your cup wrapped around his neck as your free hand went to make a fist with his curls, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, and his free hand went to your neck, his fingers keeping a blood-rushing grip on it.

He broke the kiss and gave a soft bite to your lower lip.

"Sorry, couldn't help it" He sheepishly smiled as his hand moved from your neck to caress your cheek. "The sexual tension was killing me"

The elevator dinged again, and you were back down in the lobby. As the door opened, a young couple got on it. A knowing smile on their faces as they said hello.

You pushed the 7th-floor button again and stepped back against Lando's chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could see the guy looking at the driver attentively.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?"

"Yes" the Brit answered shyly.

"Damn, big fan, can I take a picture?"

"Sorry mate, I'm with my lady, but I can sign something for you if you want"

"Sure" He took a piece of paper from his wallet as the girl took a pen from her bag. "Thanks so much"

"Sure, mate, thanks for understanding"

The elevator dinged on their floor.

"Don't worry about it, have a good night." The couple exited and you turned to look at Lando as the elevator continued with its journey up.

"Your lady?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It sounds good, doesn't it?" He gave a small peck on your lips.

"I'll have to think about it" The elevator dinged again, and you took his hand, pulling him towards your apartment.

"Wait! Did you do all of this just so you could get inside my pants?" He pulled his shirt together, dramatically covering his chest, as you opened the apartment door.

"You wish." You answered as you pulled him inside.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

#f1 fiction #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #max fewtrell imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando x y/n #f1 x y/n #lando norris fluff

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a-simple-gaywitch · 8 months

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Heart Full of You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer goes to pick Henry up from school for JJ, he doesn't expect to fall head-over-heels for his teacher

Warnings: Mentions of guns, I think that's it?

Word Count: 4541

Author's Note: I don't really like the ending I have here, but I'd LOVE to continue writing this universe, I have so many ideas!

“Fate shuffles the cards and we play.” ~Arthur Schopenhauer

Spencer walked through the doors of Henry and Jack’s school and headed toward the theater. JJ and Hotch had signed the boys up for the school district’s musical and had asked Spencer to pick them up. JJ and Will had their Thursday date night, and Hotch was stuck in the office. Spencer was more than happy to agree. He slipped into the auditorium and took a seat at the back, since he was still pretty early.

He saw a younger woman, probably in her early 20s, at the front of the auditorium with a clipboard and tape measure. She was presumably taking the students’ measurements for costumes while the instructor up on the stage led the children through the dance steps. The man he knew to be one of the high school teachers sat in the middle of the front row, making notes in a book.

The dance instructor clapped as the song ended. “Okay, everyone, that’s the choreo for the day. I’ll turn you over to Mr. Meadows.” She nodded to the teacher in the front row.

“Thank you Miss (Y/N). Take a water break, everyone, we’re back in five.”

A small chorus of “thank you five” was heard from the older students as the kids dispersed off the stage. The woman, Miss (Y/N) as Mr. Meadows had called her, hopped off the stage with ease and joined the younger woman who was taking a high schooler’s measurements.

“Okay, folks, let’s bring it back!” Mr. Meadows called. “Take your seats, please. I won’t keep you too much longer, I just want to go over today’s notes.” Spencer noticed the monotonous tone of his voice and the elementary schoolers’ attentions already fading. “First, I need my principles, minus Jack and Red, right at 3 tomorrow. Do not be late. Evan, that means you. We have vocal work to do with Ms. (Y/N) and I do not want to waste her time. The rest of my high school cast, 3:30. Next, principles, do your linework. The sooner you start, the easier things will be later. Finally, my junior cast, don’t forget to see Ms. (Y/N) and Ms. Addi with your grown-up before you leave. And with that, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

Henry ran over to Spencer, his overly large backpack thumping against his back. Jack walked behind him, dragging his bag behind him.

“Uncle Spencer!”

“Hey, kiddos!” Spencer said, kneeling down to catch the incoming Henry in a hug. Before he knew what was happening, Henry was dragging him towards the two women at the front of the auditorium.

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“Hey, Henry! Hi, Jack! You boys find your grownups?” the dance instructor asked him. Her clothes reminded Spencer of the teacher on that Magic School Bus show Henry liked. Her pants were covered in music notes and she wore large, dangle feather earrings.

Henry nodded. “Uh-huh! This is my Uncle Spencer!”

You looked at Spencer and smiled. “Well, while I talk to your uncle, why don’t you go let Miss Addi take your measurements for your costume?”

Once Henry bounded over to the young woman with a clipboard, Jack following close behind, Spencer said, “Uh, my name’s Spencer Reid. I’m an authorized pick-up for both Henry Lamontagne and Jack Hotchner. I’ll be bringing him home today, too.”

“Uh, Hotchner, Hotchner,” you muttered under your breath, flipping through the clipboard in your hands. “Ah, here he is. I just need your signature next to both children’s names, Mr. Reid.”

“Oh, uh, of course.�� He took the clipboard and pen from you. “So, are you new to the district? I don’t remember seeing you around before.”

“Oh, no,” you said with a laugh. “No, I’m here on a volunteer basis, technically. Been working with the theater department for six years, but I’m not on their payroll. I actually work-”

“Can we go get pizza now?” Henry asked Spencer, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Ooh, a pizza party? You must be the fun uncle,” you said.

Spencer’s face flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, s-sure, Henry. We’ll get it on the way home.”

“Bye, Miss (Y/N)!” Henry said, wildly waving his arm.

“Bye, Henry, bye Jack. I’ll see you boys on Monday.”

Spencer watched you for just a moment longer as another child and her guardian approached you.

The team was reviewing a local case. 3 women were killed, all dressed in period clothing.

“You think he’s making them look like Jack the Ripper’s victims? I mean, their throats are slashed and they’re dressed in Victorian clothing.” Morgan suggested. “And we know the victims are low-risk, victims of opportunity.”

“I don’t know,” Reid muttered, scrutinizing the crime scene photos. “Something about the clothes feels off.”

“The clothes are the key. Something about them will lead us to him,” Rossi said.

“Reid, you and Callahan look into the clothing more. Dave, you and Morgan go to the latest crime scene. JJ, you’re with me. We need to build a geological profile.” After Hotch gave the assignments, the team dispersed. Spencer and Kate Callahan stayed in the briefing room, looking over the photos.

“What if we have an expert look at the clothes?” Kate suggested. “See if anything sticks out to them? There’s a professor at the university that’s known for her dissertation on historical clothing.”

“Now, if you look at contemporary theater, you’ll notice huge differences in how typical gender roles are portrayed. Unlike the standard Golden Age piece, women are given more agency and more purpose in the story besides furthering the objective of the man. For example, West Side Story versus Hairspray. Even though both shows center on a woman, it’s Tracy’s will that drives the plot of Hairspray whereas Maria’s will does not drive West Side Story. This goes back to our discussion earlier in the semester regarding protagonists. However, we do see a shift during the Golden Age, in that women are beginning to be fleshed out as characters. Compare the women in Allegro to the women in Gypsy. As we progress through to the contemporary age, we begin to see more female-led shows take stage.” You glanced at your watch and sighed. “And that is where we will pick up next class. Please remember to read chapters 13 and 14 in your text. If you have any questions, you know where to find me.”

Your class gathered their belongings and slowly made their way out of the room. You were tucking your own belongings into your bag when you felt someone approach the desk.

“Office hours are at- Oh, hello.” When you looked up, a woman was standing in front of you, presenting an FBI badge.

“Dr. (L/N), my name is SSA Kate Callahan, and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid.” Standing behind her was a man you recognized from the school. He was the uncle Henry Lamontagne talked about all the time. “We were hoping you’d be willing to give us your professional opinion on some clothing pieces.”

“Oh, well, uh, sure. Let me just email my next class and let them know it’s canceled.”

As you pulled your laptop out from your bag, Agent Callahan asked, “Don’t you have a TA that could take over?”

You huffed a laugh. “I’m a professor in the theatre department. I’m lucky I have my own workshop and somewhat of a budget during show season.” You typed up a quick email to your next class and sent it. “I usually work in my shop instead of my office, but-”

“Wherever is most comfortable for you,” Agent Callahan said. “We have some pictures that are… well, gruesome.”

You nodded. “Well, then, to the dungeons it is.” At the concerned look the agents gave each other, you said, “My workshop is in the basement. My students affectionately christened it the dungeons a few years ago. I hope you don’t mind a few sets of stairs.”

“Lead the way,” Dr. Reid said.

Getting down to the costume shop was like a quest on its own. Not only did you have to trudge down several staircases from the classroom floors, but then you had to use your ID to take the elevator the rest of the way down. When you finally reached the basement, you dug your key hoop out of your bag and flicked through it. The key to the main portion of your shop was attached to a Phantom of the Opera keychain.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Welcome to my shop. Feel free to sit wherever you can. If there’s stuff on a chair, just set it on a workbench.” As you set your bag down at the desk in the corner, Spencer looked around the room. It could be accurately described as organized chaos. While the work benches were covered in fabrics, thread, and many other things Spencer didn’t know the names of, everywhere else was meticulously organized. Bins and drawers were labeled, and not a thing seemed out of place. Spencer looked at the dress hanging on a mannequin and couldn't think of it as anything other than a work of art. There was elaborate beading on the bodice and embroidery on the skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” you asked as Kate and Spencer got settled.

“We were hoping you could tell us about the outfits in these pictures,” Spencer said, pulling a file out from his satchel. “Fair warning, it’s not pleasant.”

You shrugged. “I grew up with a mom obsessed with crime shows and police procedurals. Pictures won’t bother me.”

Spencer handed you the file folder. “We think he’s dressing them up like Jack the Ripper’s victims.”

You hummed as you looked through the pictures. “Any idea what kind of fabric was used?”

“Why does that matter?” Kate asked.

“Well, cotton was a luxury in Victorian London,” you explained. “Most common folk wore linen or wool, because it was what they could afford. It was also common to patch up clothing with fabric found around the house rather than replace a shirt or a pair of trousers.” You grabbed a magnifier from your desk and looked closer at one of the photos.

“Do you see something?” Spencer asked as you moved to another picture.

“I’m not sure,” you said.

“Well, what is your gut telling you?” Callahan asked.

You pointed toward a small section of embroidery through the magnifier. “This stitching along the underside of the skirt. It’s on all of them.”

Kate’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a signature. Us designers like to add some sort of signature or tell into all our pieces. A secret way of letting the world know the piece is ours.” You reached across the desk and grabbed a piece of fabric. When you unfolded it, they saw it was a shirt. You held the edge of the sleeve out for the agents to see. “For example, I use a treble clef as mine. My mentor would include Mickey Mouse heads because she was a huge Disney fan. Other people just find creative ways to embroider their initials onto it in a way that just looks like an artistic choice.”

“So, if we can find out whose signature it is, it can lead us to the origin of the outfits,” Spencer said.

“I’ll call Garcia, see what she can find.” Callahan said.

“Oh, we don’t get cell service down here, you might need to go back upstairs,” you told her. She nodded and stepped out of the workshop. You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to see you again, Dr. Reid.”

“You, too,” Spencer said with a small smile. “So, this is where you actually work, huh?”

You gave a small laugh. “Yep. Start of this semester was 7 years.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks. So-”

“Reid. Hotch wants us back. Rossi and Morgan might have something. Thank you for your help, Dr. (L/N).”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

After Callahan and Reid left the costume shop, Kate said, “Okay, spill. The energy in there was really weird. Why didn’t you tell me you knew her?”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I didn’t know I knew her.” At Kate's questioning look, he explained, “I met her through my godson. She volunteers at his school and goes by her first name there.”

“Uh-huh. And the awkwardness?”

“When have you known me to not be awkward, Callahan?”

Kate hummed, but dropped it.

You were humming along to the soundtrack you had playing, measuring a drape of fabric on your dress form, pins sticking out from your mouth. You glanced from your notebook with your measurements and pattern sketch to the fabric. You pinned a piece of the cloth up when you heard a knock at the door to your shop.

“Come in,” you said, your voice muffled from the pins. You stuck them back in the pin cushion on your wrist before standing up and dusting off your pants. “Oh, Dr. Reid! How can I help you?”

“You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he said. “I uh, I wanted to stop by and tell you we caught the guy,” Spencer said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “We-we couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure you would have figured it out anyway. The BAU seems to be good at that kind of thing.”

Spencer gave a small laugh. “Yes, but your help enabled us to track him down without any more lives lost.” So, what are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m making one of Eponine’s dresses. We’re doing Les Mis this semester. I have Cosette’s dress on Cordelia over there.”

“Who?”

“Oh, sorry. The dress form. We named them after Shakespearian women. It’s just a fun little thing we do here. That’s Cordelia, this one by me is Rosalind.”

Spencer smiled. You know, maybe you could tell me more about what exactly your job is at dinner?” Before you could answer, Spencer said, “Obviously, you don’t have to, I’m not trying to force you into anything, I-”

“Spencer,” you said, holding your hand up to calm him. “I’d love to go out with you. Here-” You walked over to your desk and shuffled papers around. “Aha!” You grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “My personal number. That way we can, you know, figure out something that works with both our schedules. I’m sure yours is even crazier and more unpredictable than mine.”

The smile you gave Spencer lit a warmth in his chest that he didn’t think he would ever get tired of.

“Pretty Boy! Tonight, drinks on me.”

“Oh, uh, no thanks, Morgan.”

“No, no, no, you can’t just stay in when we finally have a Friday night off. You’re coming.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to- I mean, I don’t, but it’s not just that. I, um, I already have plans.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you all on Monday.” He grabbed his satchel and rushed out of the BAU office.

Morgan’s brow furrowed as he watched Spencer’s retreating form.

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked.

“Remember the last time Reid was this jittery and secretive?”

She sighed. “You know I do.”

“What happened last time?” Kate asked.

“Maeve,” Garcia answered, her voice just above a whisper.

“We have to find out what’s going on with him,” Derek decided.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Let’s follow him,” Garcia cut Kate off. “See where he’s going, what he’s up to.”

“That can’t be true!” Spencer laughed. “There’s no way!”

You were laughing too. “I’m serious! I stapled the sleeve of my sweater to the set piece we were building and I didn’t notice until we were ready to lift it into place! They wouldn’t let me in the wood shop after that.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling the whole night. You were funny, smart, and everything he could hope for.

“So, how did you end up working with the school district?”

“My niece,” you explained. “Her senior year, their regular choreographer went on maternity leave. The district said if they couldn’t find someone to fill the role, they would cut the play. Julia called me melting down over it, begging me to volunteer. And, you know, I’ve never been able to say no to my nieces and nephews. After that production, we found out that the choreographer was quitting to be a stay-at-home mom, so I agreed to be the regular choreographer on a volunteer basis. Then the next year, their costume connections fell through. I worked through the university to provide costumes, which is how the internship program started. This year, I’m just filling in on vocal directing while the choir director is out on medical leave. And Into the Woods is one of my favorites to sing anyway. So, what about you? How’d you end up working for the FBI?”

While Spencer told you about going to college at 12 and meeting Gideon, Morgan, Garcia, and JJ were sitting at a nearby table, hiding behind menus.

“Who is she?” Garcia asked, trying to get a better look at you. Your back was to their table.

“I don’t know. Never seen her before.”

JJ squinted. “Something about her seems familiar.”

Before they could do more digging, a waiter came over to take their orders. When the waiter left, Spencer’s table was empty.

“Where did they-”

Spencer walked up to their table, arms crossed against his chest. “Really, guys? Did you think you were being discreet?”

“Kid, look-”

“You were being all secretive, we were worried about you!” Garcia cut in.

Spencer sighed and dropped his arms. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I just- We’re all so in each other’s business, and this is so new I-”

“You wanted to keep it to yourself,” JJ said. “We get it. Looks like she’s coming back from the bathroom. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“But-”

“Come on, Pen. I’m sure he’ll tell us all about it on Monday. Right, Spence?”

Spencer smiled. “Sure, Jayje.”

Phone calls with your family always stressed you out. It wasn’t that you had issues with your family, it was just that they always seemed to be up in your business. And that held true for your monthly family dinner.

“(Y/N/N), I’m telling you, you’d get along great with this guy,” your older sister, Maria, said. You were over at her house for dinner, your parents and other two siblings video-calling from their respective locations. “I know you feel like ‘the universe and fate will align’ and introduce you to your soulmate or some shit, but that’s not really how the world works.”

You sighed. “Maria-”

“Come on, you haven’t dated anyone since college!”

“Because I haven’t had any interest. Liz, back me up here,” you said to your younger sister, who was feeding her twin toddlers.

“What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind. Can we just change the subject, please? Tommy, how’s school going?” you asked your younger brother, the youngest in the family. You could tell he was only half paying attention from his dorm room. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

“Maria’s right, sweetheart,” your mother said. “How will you ever meet someone without putting yourself out there?”

“Ma-”

“I mean, you’re not getting any younger-”

“I have a boyfriend, okay, Ma? I don’t need your help!”

Your family fell silent.

“You have a boyfriend?” Liz was the first to speak. “What’s his name? Where did you meet? How long have you been together? How-”

“Elizabeth, let her breathe!” your father said with a laugh. “We’re happy for you, pumpkin. Tell us about him. At your pace, of course.”

You smiled and told them about Spencer. Only after promising to bring him to the next real family dinner did they relent and change the subject, pestering your little brother about his college classes.

You and Spencer were a damn near perfect match. After that first date, the two of you barely went a day without calling or texting each other. When he was in town and not across the country on a case, he would bring you lunch. You’d frequently stay over at each others’ apartments. Months into your relationship, you knew each other better than yourselves.

Which is why, when you didn’t answer your phone on a Saturday afternoon when the team got back from a case, Spencer was concerned. He made his way to your apartment and fished the spare key you’d given him out of his pocket. He pushed your door open.

“(Y/N)? Love?” He walked into your apartment, which was unusually messy. Scraps of fabric were littered around the room, and music was blasting from your home office. “(Y/N)?”

You came rushing out of your kitchen, your hair a wild mess and your oversized pajama top drooping from your shoulder. You skidded to a halt.

“Spencer! What are you doing here?”

“We just got in from the case. I tried calling-”

“You did?”

“-to see if you wanted to grab dinner.” You pulled your phone from your sweatpants pocket and saw the 3 missed calls from Spencer. “Are you okay? What’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You sighed. “I haven’t. I’ve been working nonstop. I need to make the mask for the Wolf, the Witch's coat, and Enjolras and the other revolutionary’s waistcoats, and my sister asked me to make a dress for her coworker’s daughter’s quinceanera and-”

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Breathe.” He cupped your face in his hands. “You need to stop working yourself so hard,” he said, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Says the man who overworked himself so much he developed chronic migraines.” At his raised eyebrow, you said, “Sorry.”

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you let me help you out a bit? Give me instructions, I’m a quick learner.”

You reached up and pulled his hands from your face. “Spencer. As much as I absolutely treasure and adore you, the thought of you seeing the absolute disaster that is my home workshop right now is literally the most terrifying thing I can imagine. More terrifying than you meeting my family. Which, by the way, my mom is insistent that you come to Thanksgiving this year.” You yawned and leaned your head against his chest.

“We can talk about that later.” He kissed the top of your head. “How about now, into bed? You’re dead on your feet, love.” When you only nodded, Spencer led you to your bedroom.

After getting you settled in your bed, Spencer went to stand up. You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Stay,” you mumbled, tugging him towards your bed.

The next morning, Spencer walked into the round-table room late.

“Well, look who’s wearing the same clothes,” Derek said. “Fun night?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Hotch looked over Reid before saying, “As I was saying, Indianapolis needs us to write up a consult. Garcia is passing around the case file.”

Spencer was filling out paperwork at his desk when his phone started ringing. “Dr. Spencer Reid.” He froze as he heard the person on the other end of the line. “Oh- oh my god. Yeah, yeah, no, I’ll be right there. Uh, thank you.” He slammed the phone down and started gathering his belongings.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” JJ asked, watching Spencer cram a folder into his satchel.

“(Y/N)’s at the police station.”

You were walking home from the fabric supply store when a young man stopped you. He couldn’t have been older than 20. He pulled a gun and pointed it at you.

“Give me your purse,” he said. You saw the way his hand was wavering.

You straightened up. “No.”

“You-you can’t say no! I-I have a gun!”

You just blinked at the man- practically a boy. Then you kicked him in the groin, causing him to drop the gun as his hands flew to cup his injury. You pressed your foot on top of the gun, preventing him from picking it back up, then you dialed the police.

They brought you to the station to give a statement. You were sitting next to one of the detective’s desks when Spencer ran in.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay? What happened?”

The detective nodded at you and gestured toward where Reid had come from, indicating you were free to go.

You shrugged at Spencer. “Some punk-ass kid tried to mug me. Had a gun and everything.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, I knew he wasn’t gonna go through with it.”

“How could you possibly have known that?”

“Spence, I’m from Philly. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to mug me at gunpoint.”

His eyes went wide as saucers. “That doesn’t make it better!”

You smiled and kissed Spencer’s cheek before taking his hand. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I love you.” Your smile widened as Spencer’s face started to pale. “I mean, uh-”

“I love you too, Spence. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Okay, closing night,” Mr. Meadows said, addressing the students, all in their brightly colored costumes. “I’m incredibly proud of all of you for making it this far. This is our last show, you’ve all done great so far. Go out there and give them one last show to remember. Now, before we get in places, Ms. (Y/N) is going to lead you through a vocal warm-up.”

“Thanks, Mr. Meadows,” you said, taking your spot in front of the group. “Okay, guys, you know the drill. Repeat after me, then all together.” You took a deep breath before leading, “To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock, in a pestilential prison with a lifelong lock, awaiting the sensation of a short sharp shock from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block.”

After the cast ran through their warm-up, you said, “I’m so proud of all of you. Go out there and break legs. I’ll see you all after at intermission.” You waved before slipping from backstage, making your way to the lobby.

It wasn’t often that you got to just sit and enjoy the hard work your students put in, but one of your interns was staying backstage in case of any costume emergencies. You spotted Spencer in the crowd and wove through everyone to get to him. With him were Henry’s parents, Jack’s father and aunt, as well as the rest of the BAU team.

“Hey,” Spencer said, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick kiss. “Glad you could join us.”

“Me, too,” you said as you slowly made your way into the auditorium to find your seats. “It’s gonna be nice to just enjoy the show for once.”

As the show began, you felt Spencer looking at you.

"What?" you whispered.

"Nothing. The costumes are beautiful. You're an artist."

Your cheeks flushed at his words. You took his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder.

Like Cinderella and her prince, Spencer was your happily ever after.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #bau

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die-pink-maus · 1 month

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Some MORE Canon/Not So Canon König 💋Headcanons💋

(NSFW Included • MDNI)

AN: AGAIN, these are just my thoughts and opinions of what I imagine König would be like IRL. I have once again divided everything up into sections and there is a whole section dedicated to more NSFW headcanons, so PLEASE…MDNI this is for the grownups! There is great mention of the words “wife”, “girlfriend” and some GN terms such as “you” or “your”. I am mainly writing this from the perspective of a woman. I’ve also included an IRL photo inspo to help get those imaginative juices flowing 🤭

IRL Inspo: @Fabientietjen on Insta/Tiktok

Likes, Reblogs, & Positive Comments Are Greatly Appreciated 🫶🏼

Enjoy! 💋

🪖Personality/Physical Appearance🪖

♡ TATTED. Definitely covered in tattoos, has the “my body is a temple so why not decorate it” mindset. All of his pieces are super unique to him and his experiences. Would more than likely get tattoos of his cats and his wife or GF so they’re always with him, especially when he is deployed.

♡ Very direct and to the point, but doesn’t necessarily always mean it in a mean or condescending way, he’s just very blunt. A lot of the time it’s more funny than anything else.

♡ Listens to Austrian and German folk music while he cooks, boisterously singing along with a gigantic goofy grin on his face, and a kitchen towel draped over his broad shoulder. It reminds him of being a child, and cooking with his mom back home.

♡ Hunter gatherer type of man. Owns a home in rural Austria where he is able to grow and harvest his own crops and hunt game. Probably owns a couple of animals on his small farm as well, but not for food, they’re like his family.

♡ Has a bit of a love hate relationship with his birthday. Doesn’t mind celebrating, as he is very grateful to be alive, but also just isn’t really one for all the attention that usually comes with birthdays. He’s more than content with staying in, ordering takeout and having some alone time with you 😜

♡ Loves dressing like he’s from the early 1900s. In his defence, it’s suits the fuck outta him, and reeeeally adds to that gentlemanly, timeless charm he has 🤭

♡ Will start pointless debates over almost ANYTHING simply because he enjoys watching people get frustrated. He thinks that shit is hilarious and will often play devils advocate just to get a rise out of someone 😂

♡ Hyperfixated on all things comics. Has been collecting comic books since he was a teen and has developed quite the collection.

♡ Big steak and potatoes kinda guy. Loves meat in general and probably isn’t afraid of eating the more undesirable parts of the animal, such as liver and gizzards.

♡ Huge on hygiene. Considering he’s spent quite a bit of time in some not so clean situations while being out in the fields on missions, being clean is something he’s become quite obsessed with now that he’s retired. More than likely because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his time in the military.

💗As a Boyfriend/Husband & Dad💗

♡ Adores taking you shopping, especially for lingerie. Will sometimes even request a private shopping session at your favourite boutique lingerie store so he can have you model a few pieces for him without interruption 😜

♡ Death stares at ANY MAN who even dares to look your way. He knows he has a bombshell on his arm, and there are many men who would kill to be in his position, but you’re his. He makes sure everyone is well aware of that.

♡ More than likely the type to opt for a small intimate proposal as opposed to something public and flashy. Would probably whisk his fiancé to be away to a beautiful tropical island, and propose to her during a lovely private dinner on the beach.

♡ Loves planning romantic vacations and getaways chalk full of excursions and activities he knows you’ll love.

♡ “I saw this at the mall on the way home and it made me think of you” type of man. He remembers practically everything about you.

♡ Teaches you how to shoot and takes you to the gun range at least once a month so you know how to protect yourself in case he ever needs to be away.

♡ Trains you in hand to hand combat, which involves a lot of roughhousing that usually leads to well…you know 🤭

♡ Tells you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have a woman like you on a daily basis.

♡ Was the most attentive husband on earth when you got pregnant. Ensured you had everything you needed at all times, would constantly massage your feet, and came to every doctors appointment you had.

♡ Absolutely obsessed with your pregnant belly. Hushed words of adoration in German as he kisses your cheek and rubs your belly.

♡ Would often speak to the baby while she was still in your tummy. “Hallo Baby Mädchen, es ist deine Vater König…I can’t wait to meet you meine Prinzessin” 🥹

♡ Has always wanted a daughter, and when you two finally have one, that little girl became the centre of his entire universe. Names her after his mother, her grandmother.

♡ Is the best Girl Dad™️ on the planet. From playing dress up and letting her practice her makeup skills on him, to tea parties that involve him wearing a princess tiara, there’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

♡ Your little girl loves to cook with her father. He will hold her in his arms on his hip as he cooks, allowing her to sample everything in the process.

♡ Loves taking family photos with his beautiful girls and your pets! His office at the base was full of framed photos of all of you, and he always caries a photo of you and your daughter with him at all times.

😈Behind Closed Doors…😈

♡ Last time we talked about how he fucks you, but what about how he makes love to you? Both are equally as intense to be honest 🤭

♡ When König makes love to you, it’s almost as if the whole world stands still, and you and him are the only people on earth…bodies moving in perfect rhythm and harmony with one another 🥲

♡ He takes his time with you, long intimate full body massages with sensual aromatic oils, feeds you chocolate covered strawberries from his lips, drizzles honey all over your body and practically licks you from head to toe, nipping and sucking at those delicious sweet spots of yours.

♡ The foreplay is excruciatingly euphoric. Soft, slow, gentle kisses along your neck and over your chest. Licking and pinching your nipples as you moan beneath him, the bulge beneath his sweat pants purposefully teasing your sopping cunt through your panties as he grinds against it before pulling them off. His tongue gently lapping at your folds and your clit from behind as he gently squeezes your ass cheeks.

♡ No part of you is off limits for him. His tongue darts into your tight hole as his thumb draws mind numbingly pleasurable circles over your swollen clit. Two fingers from his other hand slipping into your puckered hole.

♡ Loves watching your gorgeous full lips wrap themselves around the thick tip of his cock, his large fingers gently running through your hair as whimpers, moans and sweet praises escape him. “You’re so good for me.” “Mein Gott you look incredible sucking my cock.”

♡ He loves when you’re on top, practically mesmerized at the sight of your curvaceous naked body hovering above him, large perky tits bouncing up and down as you slowly ride his huge cock 🤤

♡ His large hands guiding your hips as he looks up at you, arousal dripping from his icy blue gaze mirroring the arousal in yours.

♡ He does, however, tend to get a lil too excited. You drive him absolutely crazy. Eventually he flips you over, throwing both your legs over his shoulders as he rests on his knees and begins slamming into you, repeatedly grazing your cervix with the tip of his cock as you practically scream his name. “Cum for me, Schatz, I want you to cum all over this cock.”

♡ As usual he always makes sure you cum first, but he can’t help but cum inside you. Your insatiably tight, wet walls clenching around his girth, milking every drop of cum from his aching balls 😩

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leonardcohenofficial · 7 months

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vinyl + turntable basic info / general tips

while i am by no means a real audiophile or vinyl expert here are some tips that have worked for me over my almost two decades of collecting!

turntables + speakers

do not buy suitcase players. i cannot overstate this enough. do not buy suitcase players. the all-in-one players are generally cheaper, but there isn't enough support from the platter because they are smaller than 12 inch LPs. this can lead to shitty sound quality, the needle can fall out of the groove, and you can actually break your records. save up and pay a little more and get a proper turntable

there is a lot of debate about belt vs. direct drive turntables (belt drive turntables use a belt to spin the turntable while direct drive turntables have the motor directly under the platter) and which is better. very generally speaking if you want better sound quality, belt drive is the way to go; if you want a player that's a little easier to use that's also a little more durable, direct drive is a better option (most DJ turntables are also direct drive, as a side note)

i currently have three turntables and they are all audio-technica, which is a well respected brand (especially for beginners)—i have an AT-LP60X ($149) which is a belt driven player, as well as two AT-LP120XUSB ($349 each) which i use for practicing DJing/selecting. i also have a stanton M.203 mixer (insane to me that it's listed for $350 on amazon, i paid eighty bucks for mine on ebay), audio-technica ATH-M20x headphones (they were a gift but are listed for $49 on amazon) and a set of edifier R1280DB bluetooth speakers ($149). the speakers are hooked up directly into my mixer, but because both the speakers and the AT-LP60X are bluetooth, i can also play records on that turntable too

change your needle! general rule of thumb is to replace your needle every thousand hours of listening; for the average person if you change it once a year you should be good, i'm on the cautious side and change them every six months

i really like my setup; it's on the cheaper side when it comes to "grownup" gear but true audiophiles would probably scoff at my basics. regardless of what you end up getting, a decent turntable that doesn't have the speakers built in that fits within your budget and a good set of speaker or headphones is all you need

buying records

any time that you can, i recommend buying vinyl directly from the artist! whether it's through bandcamp their website or at a show i think it's better to buy direct when you can (and often times it's cheaper than buying through a third party)

when you can, buy local. not only is it good to support independently owned shops, developing a relationship with local music people is great and if they're good they'll start to know you/your tastes. it also allows you to get good at crate digging, because you never know what you're going to find in a dollar section

utilize listening stations if the store has them! people can be pretty fast and loose with grading used records, so it's better to listen to it and see if the audio quality corresponds with the price (i don't always buy mint/nearly mint records and can tolerate a fair amount of noise but not if i'm being ripped off lmfao)

look things up on discogs to see if you're getting ripped off. not only is discogs great for keeping track of your collection (also you can friend me here!), the online marketplace is great for checking average sale prices for a given release. also handy for seeing how rare a release is!

buying records on discogs can be a crapshoot, ebay even more so. read seller's reviews; if there's feedback that they generally grade conservatively, that's a good thing

i have such a large collection that maintaining a record of what i have is really necessary; discogs is really fantastic for this. you can even scan barcodes on specific releases to find them through the discogs app! it's super handy for me as sometimes i forget that i have certain albums already and end up buying multiple copies and having to get rid of them (i need to get better at cataloguing immediately after i get new stuff, i currently have about forty five records i still need to add lmfao)

storing + maintaining records

keep your records clean! get a good cleaning kit and have microfiber cloths on hand to keep your vinyl as dust free as possible. also use those storage sleeves, it makes a different in keeping your records cleaner longer

a general rule of vinyl storage that i learned from the owner of the shop that i've been going to since i was nine years old is to store them in less than 70 degrees F environments with less than 70% humidity (funnily enough this is apparently the same rule for cigars)

i recommend those ikea square storage bookcases, as they're generally study, aren't too expensive, are pretty easy to put together, and hold a lot of records (do not store your records in milk crates long term)

actually listen to your records! there are very few releases i keep sealed for the sake of keeping them in mint condition. vinyl can be a very expensive habit (800+ records later i am living proof lol) but it's no fun to keep them sitting around. have fun collecting and play your music!

#vinyl #music #records #sorry this took a minute ben lmfao #also folks are welcome to share / please feel free to friend me on discogs!

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bella-goths-wife · 21 days

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“Soft” moments with yandere velvette

Warnings: abusive dynamic, power imbalance, mentions of readers death, mentions of drug use, more a look into pets past, mentions of breakdown

“Pet” velvette called out with an irritated tone as she stormed down the hall to your room “you better have a good fucking excuse for being late”

She threw your door open but is stopped in her tracks at the sight of you.

You were curled up into a ball in the corner of your room with your hands covering your ears and your face planted firmly between your pulled up knees.

She observed your clearly panicked state more carefully and took on the sight of the bruising around your neck and the small burn markings on your wrists. You had clearly just undergone one of voxs less intense punishments, but still enough to send you into one of your episodes.

“Are you seriously crying again” velvette asks with a sigh as she walks over to your curled up figure “always bloody crying, messes up your makeup every time and that’s some good quality shit I picked for you”

You remained quiet and all velvette could hear from you was your hysterical sobs. She rolled her eyes and gripped your chin to make you meet her eyes before slapping you across the cheek with less intensity then usual but still enough to leave your cheek stinging.

“Snap out of it” velvette demands harshly “you look fucking ridiculous”

As you try and pull yourself together and stop the crying, the hand that she had just smacked you with comes to cradle your other cheek with a certain gentleness that only came from velvette after she inflicts pain.

Desperate for any connection or comfort, you unwillingly lean into her hand like a dog who wants you to be pet. And she provides as she traces the musical markings embedded on your cheek with her thumb and you lean into the warmth of her palm.

“Get up” she commands with a less harsh tone, but still a command all the same “you can’t work looking like this, you look fucking pathetic”

You nod and like a dog, you hop to your feet as she guides you to the bed and sits you down. She then goes to your desk and opens the draw that contains all the makeup she bought you when you first started working for the Vs, she had claimed that you had to look the part even when alone.

She brings some products to the bed and sits cross legged across from you as she readies them. She gives you a silent command to sit and face her.

The position made you reminisce of when you would sit across from a friend when you were younger and gossip about the boys and girls from school. The entire situation felt quite childlike as velvette begins to apply concealer to your bruised throat and face, like how your friends would apply makeup on each other and pretend to be grownups.

Velvette looks at the markings around your throat that had come with your demonic form with distaste, she always found them a somewhat grim reminder of your death. She also noticed the irritated skin around it that had come from your constant rubbing of the area before putting concealer on it.

“I’ve told you to stop bloody rubbing your neck” velvette exclaims with a sigh “it’s already an eye saw, you don’t need to go and make it more noticeable”

“Sorry” is all you replied as you felt her smoothing the concealer into your skin

Velvette eyes you for a moment with a suspicious gaze. She knew that you rubbed the skin around your throat constantly because of the looks it gained you from your coworkers, but she doubted that it was the only reason.

“Do the models talk about your marks” velvette asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to test you “do they make comments”

You look up in some kind of shock that velvette was capable of showing concern, even if it was phrased casually.

“Sometimes” you say with a nod as you feel velvette moving on to a different part of your makeup process, you suppress a flinch when the brush makes contact with your bruised eye

“What do they say?” Velvette asks curiously as she begins to apply your eye makeup

“Just stuff about my death, they ask weird questions about it” you admit with a grimace

“What kind of questions?” Velvette asks with a raised brow

“They ask if I can take my head off, or if I can twist it round like a dolls head” you admit with a sigh “or they just make comments of how unattractive it looks”

“They shouldn’t say anything to you about looks, you beat them all when your having a good day” velvette scoffs out and you blink in shock at the unexpected compliment, but she quickly backtracks “plus they all shoot up to stay skinny, that or they’ve had so much plastic surgery that they could go on a recycling bin to advertise”

You flinch unknowingly at the mention of drugs, but velvette clocks on to it and decides that she’s been too sweet for too long and needs to remind you of your place as a pet.

“No offence darling” she says with a sickly sweet condescension “I know you were a bit of a junkie when you were alive-“

“I wasn’t a junkie” you cut her off quickly and her mocking smile falters for a moment as she glares at you “I only did drugs at parties or raves-“

“And it got you and your friends killed” velvette interrupts with a mocking smile “sounds like classics junkie behaviour to me”

“No-“ you go to speak but your cut off

“Non junkies don’t get their heads taken clean off and end up in hell” velvette states firmly with a smirk “but you did, and that makes you a junkie sweetheart”

You silently glare at her but a metaphorical tug on the leash makes you stop as her glare reminds you that you hold no power in this relationship.

“All done” velvette states with a gleeful smile as she pulls you up to the mirror to reveal to your bruises covered up and makeup reapplied better then ever “I wasn’t given much to work with, but I always end up making you look like a masterpiece”

She lets go of you and makes her way to your door before turning to you.

“Now hurry up and get ready for work, you’re already late” Velvette states with an annoyed scoff

You nod as you go to grab your stuff before velvettes voice stops you.

“And darling” she says to you with a smirk “put one of your collars on, no one wants to be depressed by your little markings”

You just sigh and nod as she leaves.

You obey and grab a collar that you think she’ll approve of, one with her colour scheme and a golden V at the front.

It only served to remind you that you’ll always be a puppy either seeking comfort or an escape from her wrathful ownership.

Tag list

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @perkypeony @buttercupfangirl @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @hazbinhotelxreader @sparkleyfishies

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lovebugism · 8 months

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Bugggggg, my dear! I need to know what happens when Eddie climbs through that window with Gareth sisterrr!!!

thanks for being so patient while i wrote a part two! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie sneaks into his best friend's step-sister's bedroom, stealthy like a ninja tw for allusions to smut (2.7k, find part one here)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie shows up at your house at eleven, even though you told him to be there at midnight.

He couldn’t wait the extra hour to see you. It felt like it was eons away — a whole lot more than just sixty minutes. After dealing all day in ninety-degree heat, he was aching to rest his tired bones next to yours. His thoughts of you weren’t even sinful — which isn’t something he can say very often.

The way he yearned for you was innocent, palpable, and suffocating. Like honey or the summer sun. It was something sticky and sweet, nostalgic and boyish.

It’s why he parks three houses down, just like you asked him to, and why he scales the trellis of your bedroom window with all the finesse of a dog on roller skates.

You left your light on for him like you promised— a glowing yellow let he climbs towards. Your window is open, too. Eddie gets all twisted up in your lace curtains when he finally reaches the second story. His ankle gets caught in the pane. He catches himself before he tumbles to the ground entirely, his palms melting into your carpeted floor.

Half-stuck in your window, Eddie’s wide eyes flit around your bedroom. You’re nowhere to be found, but some upbeat pop song plays on the radio on the dresser beside a shut door — the bathroom, maybe.

“You are the dancing, young and sweet, only seventeen!” Your voice is muffled as you sing along to the words. You sound like sunshine in the middle of a cool summer night.

With the knowledge that he didn’t make a complete fool of himself in front of you or anybody else, he crawls the rest of the way in and stands in the middle of your pretty pink bedroom.

It’s as girly as you are, filled with everything grownups convince children they’re supposed to hate when they get older — teddy bears, dolls, and other heart-sharped trinkets. Everything’s frilly and pale pink, delicate like you.

The door clicks open. Eddie’s eyes widen when you and a warm steam comes spilling out. The smell of roses and vanilla twirls out just like you do. Clad only in a too big Fleetwood Mac t-shirt, and with wet hair dripping down your back, you sing into your hair brush.

“You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life—” You cut yourself off when you realize Eddie’s standing in the middle of your bedroom. You don’t scream, but you feel sort of like your heart has stopped as your hand flies to your mouth. “Oh, my god!”

“Sorry!” the boy apologizes through his laughter, palms spread out ahead of him in surrender. “I’m— I’m sorry. I should’ve… I should’ve knocked.”

You’re still a bit too frightened to laugh at his joke. You bring your palm from your mouth to your racing heart and exhale a sigh of relief. “You weren’t supposed to be here until midnight.”

Eddie beams when you rush to turn down your music, only because you aren’t looking at him to see it. Instead of telling you he couldn’t wait that long to see you, he jokes, “Oh, is it not twelve yet? My watch must be an hour fast.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to tell time, Eighty-Six,” you tease with a bright grin.

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his curly bangs. His own smile curls at his pink lips at your harsh joke. It comes from a too-pretty face for him to take offense to it.

He wraps you in his arms when you walk over to him. His palms spread along your hips as your arms wrap around his neck. He tries not to shiver when your fingers trace the wild curls at the base of his neck.

“Well, that’s not very nice of you, now is it, princess?” he asks in the same sarcastic tone.

“Or maybe you just really wanted to see me?” you follow up with an innocuous shrug and a hopeful glint in your eye.

Eddie scoffs. “That is very presumptuous of you, sweetheart.”

“It’s only presumptuous if I’m wrong— which I know I’m not, so…”

“You sound very sure of yourself,” he quips with narrowed eyes.

You meet his look with a grin. “‘Cause I can read you like a book, Eddie Munson.”

You rise on the tips of your toes, pressing yourself further into him with the intent to taste his lips. He stops you before you get the chance.

His chin jerks back, though it’s not exactly intentional. With your chest more intently pushed against his own, he can feel much more of you than he’s used to. Your stiff nipples are crushed between both of your bodies. His brain short-circuits accordingly.

Eddie covers it up with a mischievous smile. “No bra?”

“It’s your fault,” you pout, not swayed by his teasing.

“Is it?”

You nod, wide-eyed like you’re all innocent. “You got here too early. I was gonna put on makeup and a pretty dress for you and everything…”

Though Eddie’s heart swells at the thought, he shakes his head in response. The bridge of his nose scrunches as his hands rise from your waist. His palms are warm along your blushing cheeks.

“I like you better like this,” he confesses quietly.

“Really?” you ask with pinched brows.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I love your glitter and skirts and your… everything, but… I don’t know. I think you look pretty like this, too.”

Your chest warms so suddenly, you think your heart might be melting.

No one’s ever said anything like that to you before — not that you weren’t pretty, but that you were still pretty even when you aren’t trying to be.

A heavy feeling swells behind your ribcage that makes you feel like crying.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me, you know?” you joke with a halfhearted laugh. “I’m already obsessed with you.”

His own chuckle spills from his pink mouth. “I’m being serious.”

“If you wanted a blowjob, you coulda just said—”

Your grin is wide and mischievous, full of candor, as your hands leave his neck and fall to the silver buckle of his leather belt. The giddy smile fades when his fingers curl around your wrists to stop you.

Eddie’s eyes fly open wide. His mouth falls softly agape, as though surprised by your forwardness, though he knows he should be used to it now. He stammers. “We don’t— I mean, we don’t have to—”

You step back like you’ve burned him. Your features flood in a similar horror. “Oh, sorry— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures with a soft laugh to quell your worry. He chases you when you part from him and takes your wringing hands in his larger ones. “I know most guys sneaking into a girl’s room usually want one thing, so… It’s kinda my fault, actually.”

“And you don’t… You don’t want that?” you question with a furrow to your brow.

“No, I do! Trust me. I do, I just…” he trails off with a sigh. His chin tilts to his chest as he peers at you from beneath his lashes. There’s a twinkle in the deep chocolate of his eye. “I’d rather it be more romantic than, you know— than this.”

His hand motions somewhere beside him. You figure he’s referring to the scuff marks his sneakers left on your lace curtains.

You smile sheepishly as his wide palms engulf your own. “I wanna take things slow with you and… treat you right and everything…”

“That is very old-fashioned of you, Eddie Munson,” you croon lowly as you lean back into him. Your hands entwine when your chests push together all over again. His long fingers slot between yours as the tip of your nose traces the bridge of his.

“Maybe…” he hums in a sigh, the breath of it fanning over your chin. It smells like cigarettes and spearmint gum. “But also, if I’m gonna fuck you, I don’t want us to have to be quiet, you know?”

His eyes narrow with a mischievous squint when you part from him. You meet his smirk with a beam.

“Like I said… Such a gentleman.”

You go in for a kiss, and this time he lets you.

It’s much deeper than the one you shared behind the 7/11, but still just as pure. It’s full of honey and sunshine — your floral perfume and his muskier cologne — your candied breath and his nicotine-coated one. It’s filled with the innocence leftover from your lingering girlhood and his boyhood, both of which you’ve yet to grow out of.

It makes his mouth taste that much sweeter. It makes his lips that much softer. It makes you want to kiss the breath from his lungs, and it makes him want to swallow you whole.

—————

A breeze billows through the open window you forgot to close the night before.

It smells like freshly cut grass and early morning dew and vaguely like teenage boy. It feels like silk as it rolls across your bed, though it’s cold enough to make you rouse.

You feel the weight of Eddie Munson on your ribcage before you open your eyes to see him.

Your gaze is slow to clear, heavy with honey. You find the wild-haired boy snoozing on your stomach — long lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, face smushed into your t-shirt, pink mouth agape to exhale soft snores against your ribs. The sight of him like this makes you feel a bit like you’re dreaming.

The two of you settled into bed some hours after midnight, equally fatigued after an intense bout of nonstop conversation. You’d been sharing a single pillow then, and trying very hard not to kiss him.

“Wake me up before sunrise, will you?” he’d told you as his eyes drifted closed.

Your brows pinched together. “For what?”

“So I can leave before everyone in your house knows I’m here,” the boy scoffed in a tired laugh. “Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, you know?”

You didn’t know what he meant by that. But rather than ask him, your brain shouted its own understanding at you — a blinking neon sign that was virtually unmissable.

He must not want to be seen with me, the voice tells you. Maybe this isn’t as serious as I was hoping it’d be. Maybe we just have the night together, and maybe I have to be grateful I got it at all.

As though he could read your mind, a half-asleep Eddie Munson patched together your breaking heart without trying. “Don’t want your parents to think I’m just trying to get in your pants or somethin’… Also I’m pretty Gareth would kill me if he knew I spent the night here.”

He exhales a weary chuckle, and you force yourself to do the same.

It was never about you, but rather about the lingering implication that looked rather daunting from afar.

The town freak sneaks into the bedroom of the local princess, and it’s certainly not to slay some sleeping dragon. It was a headline waiting to happen. No one would believe you if you told them Eddie was more interested in the stories behind each of your stuffies than he was in what your body looked like under your clothes.

You drifted off alongside him, expecting at least one of you to rouse before the sun came up. You quickly found that waking up from the best night’s sleep of your life was practically impossible. And with the way Eddie slumbers so soundly against your stomach, you figure he must be a lot of the same.

A smile quirks the corners of your lips as you look down at the sleeping boy. It’s too filled with exhaustion to be evident, but the sentiment is there and swirling like burning embers in your chest.

Eddie rises and falls with each of your even breaths. His heavier ones are sighed in time with yours. He’s heavy like a weighted blanket. You hardly notice the burden of him now, but you’d feel the lack of him if he were gone.

Ornery umber curls fall over his face, sticking to his cheek and his mouth. You reach down to sweep them away with a gentle hand, jerking back when Eddie huffs and shifts against you.

“Shit. Sorry,” you apologize in a whisper. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

The boy sighs deeply through his nose and smushes his face back into your stomach. Still half-asleep, he slurs, “’S okay. Keep doing that. It felt good.”

You exhale a breathy laugh and return your hand to his hair. Your fingers dance through the curls at the crown of his head as you massage his scalp. You feel the warmth of his sigh when it fans against you, and you smile.

“Sorry for not waking you up,” you confess in your second apology of the morning.

Eddie’s breath jerks suddenly. You think it must be his drowsy laughter. “‘M sorry for using you like a pillow all night.”

“I kinda liked that, actually,” you admit with a scrunched nose and distant smile.

The boy lifts his cheek from your stomach and replaces it with his chin. He grins at you — plush, pink, and heavy like syrup. His chocolate eyes are a lot of the same. They’re swollen with sleep but twinkling with early morning adoration nonetheless.

“And I’m glad you didn’t wake me up, so… I guess we’re even then, huh?”

He rises with a grunt. The mattress shifts under his weight as he leans his lankier body against yours. He props himself on the forearms he lays on either side of your head. His nose nudges against the tip of yours. You’re moments away from tilting your chin and pressing your mouth against his, morning breath and all, but a knock at your door throws a wrench in your plans.

“Mom wants to know if you want pancakes,” Gareth calls from the other side of the entrance.

“Yes, please!” you singsong in response.

You’d be an idiot to turn them down. Gareth’s mom makes the best breakfast this side of Indiana has ever seen. You figure you’ll have to find a way to smuggle some to Eddie before he leaves, so his lips will taste like your favorite food when you kiss him goodbye. Maybe that’ll hold you over until you can sneak him in again—

“What about you, Eddie?” Gareth calls again with a knowing inflection in his muffled voice.

It makes the both of you freeze.

Eddie hardens like a rock on top of you, and not in the way that you’re used to.

His eyes widen as he looks down at you, finding nothing but your own look of gaping horror. You shake your head at him — a silent plea to stay silent — even though you know that Gareth is somehow aware of his best friend’s company.

Eddie’s brain short circuits, and the words spill out before he can stop them. “Uh… Nope! I’m— I’m good.”

“Suit yourself…”

The boy’s footsteps recede down the hallway.

Eddie exhales an embarrassed groan as his head falls to your shoulder. He tucks himself into the nook of your neck with the intent to hide there. His soft, untamed curls tickle the skin of your chin and jaw.

Despite your own lingering mortification, your hands curl under his arms and sprawl along his shoulder blades — keeping him intently pressed against you. “How did he…?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie laughs against your skin before you can finish the question. His face finds yours again, and he shrugs. “I mean… I guess I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought when I climbed through your window.”

“Really?” you hum. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“It was your curtains. They were trying to kill me, princess, I swear.”

“Well… At least, now we don’t have to worry about telling him,” you reason, even though your voice trembles.

Eddie’s grin wavers just the same. “Yeah, let’s hope he doesn’t punch me over pancakes and orange juice or something today.”

Your head tilts to your shoulder as you smile up at him. Your hands fall from his shoulders to cup his jaw. “I’d patch you up,” you promise quietly as you pull him down for a kiss.

Eddie gravitates toward you like he was made to do it. His mouth falls agape to accept your own before he realizes. You taste like flowers and early morning and the rest of his life.

A punch in the face would be worth it if he meant he got to taste you forever.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #bug's summer fic fest!

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westerburg-daycare · 1 year

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oh no Veronica ate the Lego D:

GOD DAMN IT

Wait wait no GUYS STOP THAT'S A GROWNUP WORD YOU CAN'T SAY THAT

(don't worry Veronica is ok 👍👍👍 no more LEGOs around her though only MegaBlox)

#heathers #heathers au #heathers: the musical #ask #anonymous #grownup words #veronica heathers #veronica sawyer #legos #megablox

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 1 year

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changeling steve whose fae abilities activate early bc of the upside down, which surprises him bc he had no idea he wasn't human

usually changelings are a little weird, but don't become like Full Fae until they come of age, somewhere around 20, but sometimes if their life is in danger or they're otherwise under a great deal of stress, they can Blossom early

steve's never been a little weird. in fact, he's always been good at being Very Normal, always exactly what everyone expects him to be, exactly what everyone wants him to be. when he's young, his parents want a quiet boy they can show off at dinner parties, so steve dutifully bends his personality into shape, polite and good enough at the piano to play something for the grownups and let them coo over him (never too good or too polite, because his parents want him to be a little boy who'll grow into a Man's Man, and that means not liking music too much and climbing trees without getting dirty and pulling on girls pigtails)

when he gets to high school, his parents want him to join sports teams, so he bends his personality again and doesn't think about how easy it is for him to gain the muscle mass and dexterity required, because he must just have some kind of natural talent for it. the team has its own expectations of him: they want a King, someone who's good with girls and likes to kick down at the unpopular masses, so he does that too, picks up on everyone's insecurities the easiest out of all his followers, always seems to know exactly how to twist his words to make his victims feel the worst

then he meets nancy, and it's the first time he's not sure exactly what someone wants from him. sometimes he wonders if she even knows what she wants him to be. he still does his best though, because that's what he does, bending and twisting into the perfect boyfriend, sweet, attentive, a little roguish just to keep the edge on. and for a while it works, even after barb and the demogorgon and the nailbat in his trunk that doesn't fit any of the people he's supposed to be and sometimes makes him itch so much he feels like his skins going to crawl off

but then it's the next halloween, and nancy calls him bullshit and he knows she's right. doesn't know how to not be bullshit though, no ones ever wanted that from him. he could try though, for her, he thinks, if that's what she wants, so he shows up at her house a few days later with a bouquet, only to find dustin henderson demanding he take out his bat again

and later, in the junkyard, while the kids are in the bus yelling and steve's been knocked on his back by a demodog, bat out of reach as he frantically pushes at the heavy weight of the monster on top of him, he curses how weak and useless his stupid human hands are. if he was more like the demodogs, with their gnarled claws and copious amounts of teeth, he'd have no problem winning this fight. and as he thinks it, as he deliriously and desperately wishes he had some kind of natural defense against creatures like this, something changes inside him. it feels like someone's injected pop rocks into his bloodstream, and they seem to collect in his hands, where they're still uselessly scratching at the demodogs tough hide

except, they're not uselessly scratching anymore. now they're carving into the thing like butter, because his nails have gone from blunt and fragile to something long and hard like steel, and the tendons in his hands have shifted and strengthened to be much more effective at cutting through meat. he has claws now. actual, literal claws, a lot like the ones the demodogs have, although his are sort of glowing and shimmering from within like he's full of fireflies. it would explain the buzzing in his veins. but he can't think about that now, has to get this thing off of him, has to protect the kids, has to live another day

and at the same time, across town in a little trailer, the only two witches in hawkins have just gotten hit with a blast of released magical energy that's so strong it sends them physically reeling. eddie actually falls on his ass. wayne helps him up while the kid asks what the hell that was, and honestly wayne isn't absolutely sure himself. doesn't feel human, even if the mortal panic it's laced with feels very human indeed, and it takes him a while to place that fizzy feeling as fae magic. a Blossoming.

so he explains to eddie about changelings, cuffs him good-naturedly around the head when the kid immediately relates it to his nerd game (he does this every time wayne teaches him something new about magic), and explains a little more about fae in general. he's told eddie about them before, but fae tend to keep to themselves, so there's been no real need to explain more than basic etiquette and safety measures eddie should take if he ever came across a fairy in the wild

now though, he explains, he thinks eddie should reach out. that Blossom was early, panicked, which means there's some kid out there about eddie's age who's going through magical puberty into an entirely new species directly after some kind of terrible ptsd-inducing event. so he tells eddie to keep an eye out for them at school, because magical folk gotta stick together, and eddie agrees, because they do, and frankly yeah that sounds like a terrible thing to go through alone and confused

so imagine his dismay when king steve shows up to school the week after, clearly beat to shit and looking confused as hell when the things he reaches for end up in his hand without him actually grabbing them

reaching out might be a little harder than eddie expected. but, cursing himself a little for being too good a person to leave even king steve in the dark like that, he does it anyway.

#and yeah obviously they fall in love #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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fairydrowning · 7 months

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"The summer ended. Day by day, and taking its time, the summer ended. The noises in the street began to change, diminish, voices became fewer, the music sparse. Daily, blocks and blocks of children were spirited away. Grownups retreated from the streets, into the houses. Adolescents moved from the sidewalk to the stoop to the hallway to the stairs, and rooftops were abandoned. Such trees as there were allowed their leaves to fall – they fell unnoticed – seeming to promise, not without bitterness, to endure another year. At night, from a distance, the parks and playgrounds seemed inhabited by fireflies, and the night came sooner, inched in closer, fell with a greater weight. The sound of the alarm clock conquered the sound of the tambourine, the houses put on their winter faces. The houses stared down a bitter landscape, seeming, not without bitterness, to have resolved to endure another year."

– James Baldwin, Just Above My Head

#ik im not posting much here and it's all because of my academics #trying my best to make a normal routine again after summers so hope for best #i actually wanna make a huge post to say byee to summers but didn't get much time so whenever i get some time I'll definitely do that haha #dark academia #light academia #excerpts #fragments #poetry #spilled thoughts #words #romanticism #summers

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schmergo · 1 month

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I’m gonna turn 32 in nearly a month and I personally like being in my 30s a lot. I am not self-conscious or concerned with this. I look 30something, I feel 30something, and I am totally cool with this. I don’t feel like 32 is old or past prime (heck, I’m not even old enough to run for President) and I am even more excited to turn 33 in 2025, the age that hobbits traditionally come of age.

I think a lot of the doom and gloom posts about being in your 30s are overblown at best and a load of hogwash at worst and it makes me sad to see my younger friends feel nervous about hitting that 30 year milestone.

Your body does not instantly fall apart the second you blow out your birthday candles. You don’t immediately lose interest in doing anything you thought was fun in your 20s. (Hint: if you do, that’s called depression).

But I do have one warning for you if you’re a young person swiftly approaching 30, one sign of aging that I never hear anyone talking about but that was, for me, the harbinger of coming decrepitude.

One day, you may look at Captain von Trapp, as portrayed by Christopher Plummer in The Sound of Music (1965) and go, “Okay, hmmm, I kinda get what Maria sees in him,” when you know for a fact you once saw him as “old” when you were younger. That’s the point of no return. That’s the crucial transition point from “hip youth” to “grownup.”

Then one day, you may realize that Christopher Plummer was the same age as many of your friends when he made that movie. (He was 35.) And that’s the moment you’ve fully crossed the bridge into maturity. The sooner you process that, the more you’ll enjoy the rest of your 30s. Bon voyage!

#millennial #Gen z #aging #sound of music #musicals

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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I'm in Control Part 3 (Steddie X Reader)

A/N: Im such a whore for these 2 <3

Warnings: Steddie relationship and all that that implies ( I regret nothing) Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie (I'm drooling) , Reader does get harassed but our boys save the day <3

Word Count: 3041

“The convention is Saturday in Vegas. Eddie and Steve, you guys will be with Y/N here and she can show you the ropes. Y/N, I’m bringing some of the other ladies as well. Later on, you and I are going to go scouting for some talent, ok? Nothing new.”

You nod as you smile. “You boys won’t get much sleep depending on when you wrap on Friday.”

“Eh, we’re kind of used to it by now.” Steve grins at you as he sighs. “Just grateful to be a part of all this.”

“Speaking of not getting much sleep…”, TJ spins around in his chair. “Your date with Malcolm? Yay? Nay? Wedding bells?”

“Calm down. It was one date.”, you giggle as you collect some things from your desk and stand.

“Oh, come on. We’re all grownups here. Was the sex at least mind-blowing?”

You look at your boss before glancing over at your clients. Their eyes were full of hope, waiting on pins and needles for your answer. You lightly swat at TJ’s arm as you exit the office.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

################

“Mmmm… I don’t morning well.”, Eddie climbed into the backseat and immediately rested his head against the window, folding his arms as he closed his eyes.

You scooted towards the middle as Steve squished in beside you. Leaning over the backseat, you grab a blanket you brought and tenderly throw it over you and Eddie’s legs.

His eyes briefly open as he looks down before turning to smile at you. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“Alright lady and gentlemen, hopefully we won’t hit too much traffic. Y/N, I’m sorry, honey. I have everything piled in the front seat and trunk. Are you ok back there?”

“Yeah, TJ. I’m fine.”

Once you guys were on the road, Eddie was completely knocked out.

“Wow. It didn’t take him long, did it?”

“He really doesn’t do mornings. Being a porn star, musician, and all-around nerd, his active hours are usually after 8pm.”, Steve chuckles.

“Nerd?”

“Oh, yeah. Mr. Munson here is a huge fan of D & D and most things fantasy.”

That makes you genuinely smile. “What about you? Are you a nerd to?”

“No ma’am. I was definitely a jock guy in high school. I mean… I liked Star Wars. That was fun.”

“Star Wars is good. I’m kind of more of a Star Trek girl though.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You’ve never watched Star Trek?”

“I don’t know what that is.”, Steve laughs at your shocked expression. “What else do you like?”

“I love music and dancing. Um, I don’t really know to be honest. I grew up in a small, tightly wound community. Their definition of fun was vastly different. Everything I got into didn’t start till I moved out here except…”

“Except…porn?”, he asks.

“I remember once, when I was a kid, my brother got caught with a porno magazine under his bed. My mom flipped out and called our church pastor. We rushed him down so he could be “cleansed of his sins”. It just never made sense to me. Sex is supposed to be beautiful and fun. How can it be so bad?”

“You’re a fascinating woman, Y/N.” Your eyes lock on his as you both grin.

Halfway into the trip, you found your eyes getting extremely heavy. Your head lazily fell on Steve’s shoulder as you drifted off to sleep.

#############

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to one of these conventions before.”, you smile at the boys as you finish setting up the booth for your agency.

“Technically, I have been to a convention but it wasn’t like this.” Eddie quickly rose from the chair he was sitting in and gestured for one of the actresses who had just come back from freshening up to take the seat.

“Oh? Was it one of those nerdy conventions Steve was telling me you were into?”

The metal head playfully squints at his friend. “Traitor.”

“Hey, you fell asleep. We filled the time with conversation on the ride up here. Stay awake next time and then maybe you can participate.”, Steve grins.

You reach over and pat Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s ok. I like that you’re a bit of a geek. I’ll finally have someone to talk nerdy with.”

“Y/N!”

“TJ!”

“Look at all my beautiful people. I love it. Are you ready to come find some talent?” His smile widens when you nod, grabbing your clipboard. “Everyone else, stay here and look gorgeous. Gentlemen, if you could keep an eye on these ladies. We’ve never had a problem before but people can be a bit to…grabby.”

You and your boss walk the floor for hours, finding a few people he would like to sign. While TJ was talking to the stars, you were mingling with the managers. Managers brought talent to agency for a finder’s fee so you knew you guys would have a higher chance of getting more signs if they brought their stars to you.

When you two make your way back to your area, everyone seems to be having a good time. The girls were talking to some fans while Eddie and Steve were mingling with other male porn stars needing advice.

“My family has no idea I do this but I’m glad I’m able to send my mom money every week to help the bills.”, the young man hangs his head.

“Do you do it just for the money?”, Eddie’s voice is full of compassion as he speaks.

“Not really. I like… I like the job. I find it exciting.”

“Well, then you have nothing to be ashamed of, man. As long as you enjoy it then fuck everyone else.”

The boy giggles at him. “Do your parents know what you do?”

“Pfft, my dad would actually have to care first.”, Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, mine can’t even watch porn where he is.” Eddie’s smile falls a bit before he continues. “But my uncle knows and he doesn’t really care. He told me the same thing I told you.”

“Hey, baby.” You extend your arms out to the boy talking to the guys.

His eyes light up when he notices you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you off your feet. “Y/N! I was hoping I’d see you.”

“TJ would kill me if I didn’t come with him to these things.”

“She’s right I would.” Your boss smiles at the young man. “Y/N, take the guys and grab some lunch. I’ll wait here with the other ladies and we’ll go when you get back.”

“Ok.” You tenderly cup the boy’s face as you grin up at him. “Remember. You are amazing.”

##############

“How do you know that kid we were talking to? Or do you just know everyone?”, Steve stabs his fork into the Styrofoam container in front of him.

“I’ve known Avery since he first got here a couple of years ago.”, you cover your mouth as you talk. “He was wondering around the convention with these wide dough eyes. He looked so terrified. I showed him around and answered his questions. He’s a good kid.”

When you looked up from your food you noticed they were both smiling at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just really sweet. It’s adorable.”, Eddie’s grin widens before he puts the beer bottle in front of him to his lips.

“Like I said, this industry has a way and a reputation. I want everyone to be comfortable.”

Your phone on the table comes to life as it vibrates next your plate. You glance over at the it before pushing end. You know when you look back at them, they had read the name on the screen.

I’m in control.

“So your date with Malcolm went well, huh? You never told us how that ended.”, Steve leaned back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Must have ended rather well if he’s calling her phone while she’s out of town.”, Eddie closed his container, moving it to the side and out of his way.

“To be fair, Mr. Munson, that’s none of your business. What I do with my private time is none of my client’s concerns.”

“She’s absolutely right, Steve.” You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm. “Now, I’m going to ask a question and please tell me if I’m crossing a client/ agent boundary here, Princess. Do you usually let clients finger you while you watch your other client get head?”

Eddie leaned back in his chair, smiling in triumph as your jaw clenched in frustration.

“What I do with my private time away from you both has nothing to do with either of you and you have no right to be upset. I can fuck whoever I want especially since you’re allowed to get your shitty blow job and both of you are allowed to kiss on anyone you please.”

Steve turns to Eddie delivering a joking glare. “Traitor.”

“What did I do?”

“You told her I hated the way that girl sucked my dick.”

“Was I wrong?”

“Missing the point!”, their heads turn back to you as you shout at them. “It’s not fair.” You abruptly stand from your chair and start to leave them before stopping yourself, charging back toward the table. “What the fuck am I even saying? Fuck whoever you want. I don’t care. We,” you gesture between the three of you. “We are nothing except client and agent. This is a business relationship.”

Steve’s smile grows as he turns to Eddie who smiles back. “I notice she keeps preaching the client agent thing but has yet to answer your question.”

I’m in control AND I’m fucking angry.

“You know what, Daddy.” You watch with contempt as he straightens up at the name. “I’ll answer his fucking question. No, Sir. I don’t usually let things like that happen. I fucked up but that’s ok because that’s the last time that it will. Especially since I found a man who can satisfy my needs way better than I’m sure either of you can.”

Eddie watches your rant with amused eyes as Steve’s slowly start to fill with annoyance. You lean against the table on your palms, alternating your gaze between their own. “Oh, boys and trust me. Malcolm can sat-is-fy.” You overdramatically roll your eyes to the back of your head as you bite your lip. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

##############

“TJ, today was exhausting. Can’t we just relax?”, Eddie asks with a sigh as he pulls the Metallica shirt over his head.

“Tomorrow, guys. I promise. This is a big party that the host of the convention throws on that Saturday and a lot of important eyes will be there. Speaking of,” he looks them both up and down, “are you sure you don’t want to change?”

Steve and Eddie had changed out of their tight, revealing wardrobe they were wearing that day into more loose fitting, comfortable clothes. A small knock on the door gets your bosses attention. “That’ll be Y/N.”

The guys listen to you and him exchange some words before he leads you further into the room. “See, gentlemen. This is how you should look.”

Their jaws dropped when they saw you in your little black spaghetti strap dress that cut off just above your knees. Your hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and the heels that you had on made you a couple of inches taller.

Eddie was the first to regain his composure. “I don’t think a dress like that would fit me.”

You smile as your eyes flick to Steve’s waiting for him to say something. He casually exhaled before leaning back on his elbows from his place on the bed. “Well, definitely fitting for a party full of porn stars.”

Your head tilted to the side. “I sent a picture of it to Malcolm and he said I looked gorgeous.”

“And he was right.” TJ grinned as he threw on his jacket. “Ugh, fine! Come on then.”

###########

The bass in the ballroom of the hotel room beats loudly against the walls. You survey your surroundings from your spot at the bar as you take a sip from your glass.

“Hey there, sexy.”

Not even hiding your disgust, you cringe as you turn to see the man addressing you. You recognized him from other films. He was a popular choice to star in most roles due to his conventional good looks but his personality was absolute garbage and you hated talking to him every time you had to.

“Hey Jack.”

“You’re here alone again? I will never understand how someone like you comes to these things without a date.”

“Maybe that’s because I can have fun without having someone attached to me.”

He chuckles as he chugs back the drink that was handed to him. “I think it’s because you have a crush on me.”

You scoff as you leave the bar trying to distance yourself from him. To your dismay, he follows you. “Come on, Y/N. I’m single. You’re single. It doesn’t even have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“You’re disgusting.” You shove him away, power walking in the opposite direction hoping to find your 6’3 muscle bound boss.

Jack grips your wrist and tugs you against the wall, pressing his entire body into you. “You play this game with me all the time, Y/N. I know you want me. Everyone does.”

“Trust me, Jack. I don’t. Now get off me.”

A wicked smile crosses his face as he leans down to try and kiss you. You kick his shin and move around him bumping straight into Eddie. Steve comes from the side and pushes Jack against the wall, holding him by his collar.

“When someone says no, the answer is no. If you ever touch her again, my friend here and I will make you regret it. Do you understand me?”

“Hey. I was just—”

“I said do you understand me?!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ.”

“Good. Now get out of my sight.”, he lets him go, tossing him away.

“Are you okay?”, Eddie asks as his eyes scan you over.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” They both smile as the he adjusts the strap that had slid down on your dress.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but we’re tired. I don’t care what TJ says.” Steve sighs as he grabs Eddie’s arm. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hug your arms as they disappear suddenly feeling extremely cold and alone.

I’m in control.

“Hey!” Your heels smack against the tile as you run after them. “Hey, um, do you guys want to, um, order a pizza or something? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.

They glance at each other before turning to you.

“We could eat.”

##########################

You cover your mouth full of pizza as you laugh at a story the boys had just told. “Eddie, I had no idea you could play the guitar. I mean Steve mentioned you were a musician but he didn’t say what you played.”

“Oh yeah, Sweetheart. When we get back home, I’ll show you.” Eddie strums his fingers over invisible strings.

“What about you?”, you point at Steve.

“God no. I don’t even know popular music let alone how to play it. You?”

“I’m not that cool, unfortunately.”

“I think you’re pretty cool.” Eddie grins at you before your phone vibrates.

“Hey TJ.”

“Where the hell are you? And where are my stars?”

“I am upstairs getting ready for bed. As for Steve and Eddie, I have no idea where they are.”

“You’re their agent, Y/N.”

“It’s a party! Jesus. I’m sure they both found some pretty girls and are having fun. Do the same!” You chuckle as you hang up your phone and throw it against the sofa chair near the window. “What?! Why are you staring at me again?”

“Sheesh, calm down.” Steve grins as he holds up his hands. “You just always find ways to surprise us. That’s all.”

“Why do you talk like that? Like you’re one person?”

He turns to Eddie. “Are you not surprised?”

“I’m very surprised she didn’t play her agent card and rat us out.”

You tilt your head and turn away from them as you whisper loud enough for them to hear. “They aren’t answering the question…Yeah I noticed that.” You raise your eyebrows at them. “See? It’s fucking annoying, isn’t it?”

“You spend enough time with someone you get to know them pretty well. Remember, we told we grew up together, spent time together in and after high school, and now we work together in a business that requires you to be vulnerable.”

“That’s ironic.”, you respond to Steve with only mild sarcasm. When they both look at you with confusion, you explain. “Since I’ve met you, I think the only time you’ve been vulnerable is on the drive up here. If you were being more open you would have told me you how you felt about me and Malcolm from the start instead of throwing your little tantrums.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss I’m-the-agent.”, Eddie sits up on the bed giving you more attention. “If you weren’t attracted or didn’t at least feel something for us, you would have told me to fuck off at that party just like you did with that douchebag downstairs.”

“Did you fuck him?” Steve gruff tone froze you both.

“Who Jack? God no—”

“No. Malcolm. Did you fuck him?” You and the man stare each other down, waiting for the other to concede.

“It doesn’t matt—” Steve’s arm shot out, reaching for your throat before pulling your lips to his. There was a tenderness behind it that you weren’t prepared for but desperately wanted more of.

His mouth hovered over yours as he pulled away. Your throat moved under his grasp as you swallowed. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

“No.”, you breathed out.

“No what?”

I’m in control. I’m in control. I want him to kiss me again. No! Shit. I’m in control. His lips tasted so good. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. No! I’m in control. I’m—

“No, Daddy.”

###########

@gracieluvthemoon @e-munson666 @luna-munson83

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